Bathtime Stories. Tamara Gilfanova

Bathtime Stories

      Tamara Gilfanova

      Illustrator Anna Zh

      Translator Ludmila Starikova

      © Tamara Gilfanova, 2018

      © Anna Zh, illustrations, 2018

      © Ludmila Starikova, translation, 2018

      ISBN 978-5-4493-4286-7

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Bathtime stories Adventures in a bathroom

      By Tamara Gilfanova

      Illustrated by Anna Zhandarovich

      To my beloved sons, who keep me busy all day long.

      To Arthur, Marat and Rolan. T.G.

      © Original story by Tamara Gilfanova, 2018

      © Original art by Anna Zhandarovich, 2018

      Translated into English by Ludmila Starikova, 2018

      The Whale

      Two brothers were sitting in a bathtub.

      Two brothers were sitting in a bathtub. White foam hills rose above the water; everything around looked white. The bath seemed like the Arctic Ocean, complete with ice and snow.

      “Hello, Arthuuuuuur!” howled a blue whale, “Hello, Marat!”

      “Hello, whale!” joyfully exclaimed Arthur.

      Marat was still a baby, so he only spoke his own version of the baby language. But he understood English and Whalish very well.

      “Looly-whully,” Marat greeted the whale.

      “How did you get here?!” Arthur asked the whale. “I thought the whales are migrating South during winters!”

      Arthur loved sea animals and knew a lot about them.

      “Yeaaaah, that is true. My friends are gooooooone, and I took too long to pack my suitcase and was late,” responded the whale.

      “Whoa! I had no idea that the whales have suitcases!” said Arthur, surprised.

      “Whoa-moa,” added Marat.

      Although he was still a baby, he was quite sure that the whales do not have suitcases.

      “Whoa! I had no idea that the whales have suitcases!” said Arthur, surprised.

      “Yes, you are right! But people throw a lot of things into the ocean. I found a suitcase and decided to keep it,” – responded the whale. “I collected seashells and pretty pebbles to give as presents to my friends, sea turtles and dolphins. They never travel so far north. But I hesitated and missed my whale group’s departure. How will I find the way south now?!” asked the whale, sadly.

      “Ooooooh,” Marat howled in Whalish.

      “Yes! We can help you!” confirmed Arthur, who was a serious boy, never afraid of challenging tasks. He had a kind heart; he could never leave a whale in need of help.

      The whale swam all over the tub and realized with horror that he was not in the ocean, but in a giant fish tank! How did he get here? Nobody knew.

      Just then an excellent idea came to Marat’s head.

      “Goody-goody,” he said to his brother.

      “Exactly,” agreed Arthur, “Why didn’t I think of it myself! We need to call the pelican.”

      Arthur picked the pelican by the handle on his back, got a full beak of water and poured it onto the floor, sonorously, like a waterfall.

      The boys did not like the pelican. He always helped their mom wash their heads. The pelican was a watering can; he got a full beak of water and poured it right onto your head. Sometimes the water got into the eyes and ears. The boys just hated it! But the pelican was a good guy, with a broad beak-long smile. He would happily help the whale swim back into the ocean! Arthur picked the pelican by the handle on his back, got a full beak of water and poured it onto the floor, sonorously, like a waterfall. The water splashed in all directions! Marat started a storm in the meanwhile. He splashed with arms and legs as hard, as he could, making giant waves, which loudly splashed over the bathtub. The whale sprayed a fountain into the ceiling with joy.

      “Holy Molly, can’t look away for a second! You’re about to flood the house!” said mom.

      “Marat’s idea,” Arthur admitted, honestly.

      Mom swam away to get a bucket and a rug out of a cabinet.