The Magic Cheese. Юстасия Тарасава

to an end.

         “I bet you’ve never slept over-r the stove, we’ve got a great sleeping place made ther-re,” purred Curdfritter.

         “No. What’s it like?” asked Vovka.

         “A city per-rson doesn’t know what he dr-rinks or eats; he lives too far-r away fr-rom fields,” grumbled Curdfritter. “Cheese-eater’s made your feather-bed and br-rought you a night-light.”

         “Have you got electricity?” Vovka was surprised. He hadn’t seen any wires, sockets or electric devices.

         “What tr-ree in the city?”

         “E-lect-ri-ci-ty. Turn the switch on – you’ll get light, turn it off and it’s dark again. Also there are different electric devices – a TV, a cooker, a fridge and a cassette recorder.”

         “All these slices-devices the humans use, here a piece of rotten wood will do.” The cat grinned and hung the piece of wood on the wall. Indeed, there was faint light in the room, as if a night-lamp was on.

         “I wonder, what keeps it hanging on the wall? How is it fastened?” thought Vovka. “Poor Mama, she is so worried by now. If I could only make a call…” Thinking like that, he fell asleep.

         At the same time the following things were happening in the kitchen where Vovka had been making tea not long ago. Mama came home from her work and saw the table carefully laid, biscuits in the biscuit-dish and a bar of chocolate. Cheese slices on the plate were not dry yet and the kettle was warm, so Mama guessed that Vovka had just left. It was strange though that there was no note. A long time ago they had agreed that if Vovka wanted to go somewhere, he would leave a note to tell where he went and when he would come back. For example – ”Went to Ljoshka to play, will be home at six.” Or “Went to the hairdresser’s at the corner.” But today there was no note. Maybe, he was taking out the garbage. No, he must be with Ljoshka. But Ljoshka and his mother had been gone! Maybe, he went to Pavlik. Well, of course he went there, because Pavlik couldn’t come to Vovka himself. Pavlik was a very good, kind and intelligent boy; he was Vovka’s best friend. But he couldn’t come to Vovka, because he wasn’t able to walk and used a wheel-chair. And it was difficult to drive a wheel-chair along the corridor and to the elevator. So, usually Vovka would come to Pavlusha and not the other way round. Having thought about that, Vovka’s Mama sighed with relief. Pavlik had got a wonderful mother and the boys were not to be worried about.