Rita shook her head, “it’ll never happen. There are lots of women who have some abortions, and they’re able to have children afterwards, and everything’s all right with them.”
“There’re lots of women who have only one, and they have loads of problems afterwards.”
“No,” persisted Rita. “It won’t happen to me. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t you feel a bit of sorry for him?” Lika asked.
Rita bowed without a word.
“He is alive! He’s got the heart and it beats! He feels everything you feel. He feels your pain as well, and it hurts him not to be wanted. Probably, he can hear your thoughts about what you’re going to do with him. And if he loves you… and I’m sure he does… will you betray his love and murder him?” she finished in whisper.
“Do you mean I’m a murderer?” Rita could not help crying. She burst into tears with her head in her hands.
Lika got frightened of her friend’s reaction. “I shouldn’t have said all that,” she thought but was not going to change her mind about it. She wanted to give her a hug and comfort her but the friend pushed her away and said that murderers are not worth of embracing them. Lika sat opposite Rita and waited patiently till she would calm down. Rita was blubbering so hard that made Lika’s heart tear with empathy and inability to help; tears flowed from her eyes.
“Poor Rita! She seems to have a nervous breakdown. I shouldn’t have said that…. Even without that, she’s at the verge of panic and exhaustion. Why did I say that? Why? I really made it worse instead of helping. Oh, Goodness, stupid me! What if she does something to herself?” Lika got really frightened and embarrassed because she did not know how to behave in such a situation.
“Rita, forgive me, please. I’m being such a fool! I should’ve thought before I said that. I shouldn’t have said anything except the words of support… But I really want to help… I don’t know how to do this… May be, you’d better talk to a professional? A psychologist?” suddenly suggested Lika, “You’d feel better, psychologically better.”
Rita kept weeping but her sobbing became quieter. Lika sat near for some time wrapped in doubts of whether she could leave Rita alone. It was the telephone call from Aunt Ann that solved the problem. Aunt Ann phoned her to find out how the things were. She did not want her to feel lonely. At the end, she asked Lika to buy some bread for dinner. Lika said goodbye to her friend. Rita did not say anything in response but continued to sob and swallow her tears, so Lika left her alone.
“I hope she won’t do anything to herself! Oh, my Goodness, I hope she’ll be all right!” Lika prayed on her way back home, “I guess there’s not much I can do to help her. She’s most likely to do what she’s planned. Coco’s been right. Might it be the best thing to happen?”
Heavy thoughts did not leave Lika, and she even walked past the shop and only at the porch she remembered her aunt’s request. Sighing, she turned and walked back. Continuing to ponder over the situation, the girl got to the shop, bought a loaf of bread and went home again. Thoughts in her head were confused, they ran across one another, exhausted her, but there was no solution. She was on the verge of despair.
Chapter 9
Did Coco come from future?
At home Lika ate pies and, without even having cleaned the table, she went to her room and lay down on the bed. She was going to get some sleep, because the thoughts about Rita, how to help her, had completely exhausted her. “I must call her,” the girl thought and dialed Rita’s number. Rita did not answer. Lika listened to the beeps until the line got disconnected automatically. “Why isn’t she answering?” She began to worry, “She doesn’t want to? But what if she’s done something to herself? Oh, why did I leave her? I should’ve stayed until she didn’t calm down! What’s now? Should I go to her again?”
“I’m sure she’s all right,” opening the door with her paw and squeezing her fluffy head through the crack, said Coco.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
“She merely doesn’t want to talk to you after all that you’ve told her. It’s easy to check – send her a message and she’ll answer.”
Lika hastily began to press the buttons of her cheap Nokia. A reply did not keep her waiting.
“She says she’s all right. She just wants to be left alone and asks not to disturb her.”
“That’s just what I told you!” Coco solemnly uttered aloud.
“Look, Coco,” Lika got inspired, “How come you know everything? How come you can talk? Why haven’t you talked to me before – you’ve been here for ages?
“So many questions at once,” Coco sat opposite the bed, stretched forward its hinder paw and began to lick it.
“I sometimes wonder how one can be so smart and so ill-mannered at the same time,” Lika sighed. “I’m talking to you, and you’re washing your paw – it’s not polite.”
“Common,” replied the cat going on with her occupation. “We’ve known each other for ages! What are these conventionalities for? We’re almost blood. After all, it didn’t use to confuse you to walk naked in my presence.”
Lika blushed; it was true. She tried to comfort herself by the idea that she had not known that Coco could talk.
“Oh, right!” the cat drawled with simulated offence. “Why should you keep up appearances with dumb things?”
Lika blushed even more not knowing how else she could explain herself.
“Oh, come on, I’m just kidding,” the cat said cheerfully and even stopped licking its paw.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl still said.
As for Coco, it stretched forward the other hinder paw and began licking it.
“Will you tell me?” Lika asked gingerly.
“A tale? I don’t think I will. Not now at least. Let’s make it last thing at night. I know a large variety of wonderful tales. Which ones do you like, ancient or modern, Russian, oriental, European? I’ve got some Brazilian.” The cat pattered.
“Well, no, Coco,” Lika smiled. The more Coco tried to get off the subject, the more Lika wanted to get the answers to her questions.
“Well then… not Brazilian… may be Japanese?” Coco suggested.
“I don’t want a tale. I want your story. Where did you come from?”
“Lika, you’re old enough to know where cats come from. Should I tell you about the birds and the bees?”
Instead of the answer, Lika threw the small pillow, which she usually slept on, at Coco. The cat jumped aside and seemed to sneeze.
“It’s so ill-mannered to throw pillows at someone you’re talking to,” The cat said having copied Lika’s recent intonation and headed for the door.
“Coco, please!” the girl exclaimed. By the moment, she had jumped from the bed and having reached the door in two leaps shut it.
“You leave me no choice,” Coco sighed, “So make yourself comfortable and get ready to listen. A long time ago,” The cat began telling in a low voice, “In the year of three thousand eight hundred and five a pretty kitten was born…”
“Wait,” Lika cut across it; “In the year of three thousand eight hundred and five?” she thought the cat started telling her a tale. “Coco, you’ve promised to tell me a true story, not a tale!”
“But this is a true story!” Coco declared in its usual tone. I was truly born in the year of three thousand eight hundred and five!”
“I can