Dandelion wine: a story

Buy a set of books at a 20% discount! Voltaire A. Bradbury - not uncle, not cousin, but, no doubt, publisher and friend It was a quiet early morning, and the town, still shrouded in darkness, restless. Summer was in the air, and the wind was blowing like summer, and everything around was breathing slowly and measuredly. It was enough to get out of bed and look out the window to see: this is the beginning of a real free life, the first morning of summer. Twelve-year-old Douglas Spaulding, having just woken up, happily indulged in the leisurely flow of a summer morning. He lay in a vaulted room on the third floor, feeling how the tallest tower in the town, soaring high above the June breeze, filled him with immeasurable force. In the evening, as the elms, oaks, and maples merged into a solid mass, he looked around the swaying dark sea like a beacon. And now ... "Oh, you!" Douglas whispered. There was a whole summer ahead, many days, many numbers on the calendar. And he imagined his hands wandering in all directions, like the god Shiva from books about long journeys, plucking unripe apples, peaches, night-black plums from the trees. As he plunges into the woods, in the bushes, into the river. How he will be comforted by the cold behind the frost-covered ice house. And how happy he would be to roast in his grandmother's kitchen with many chickens ... And now the usual thing awaited him. Once a week he was allowed to spend the night not in the house next door, with his father, mother and younger brother Tom, but to climb the dark spiral staircase here, to his grandfather's tower, and sleep in this house among sorcerers and ghosts to wake up at dawn. milk bottles have not yet rang in the streets, and start your cherished sorcery. He stood in the dark in front of the open window, took a deep breath and blew hard. The streetlights went out instantly, like candles on a chocolate birthday cake. He blew again and again, and the stars began to disappear in the sky. Douglas smiled. Then he pointed. Here and there. And now here and there ... Yellow rectangles cut through the street shrouded in the morning haze - people turned on the lights in the houses. And for countless miles, countless windows lit up. - Everyone yawn! Everyone get up! Downstairs, a large house awoke to life. - Grandpa, take your teeth out of the glass! Douglas waited, giving his grandfather time. - Grandma and great-grandmother, fry pancakes! A light draft carried the warm spirit of fried dough through the corridors, and all its temporary occupants, aunts, uncles, cousins, who had gathered for the summer, stirred in the rooms of the house. - Old People Street, wake up! Miss Helen Loomis, Colonel Friley, Mrs. Bentley! Cough, get up, take your pills, don't hesitate! Mr. Jonas, harness the horse, take out your van and bagpipe! On the other side of the ravine that crashed into the town, gloomy mansions opened their dragon eyes. Soon two grandmothers will take to the streets in the morning with their electric Green Car, waving their hands to each dog they meet. "Mr. Tridden, come on, run to the tram depot!" And soon a tram will float along the cobbled streets, scattering hot blue sparks over itself. "John Gaff and Charlie Woodman, are you ready?" Douglas asked in a whisper as he turned to Children's Street. - Ready? "It's baseballs soaked in the thick grass on the overgrown lawns, the rope swings hanging motionless from the trees." "Mom, Dad, Tom, wake up!" The alarm clocks rang softly. Lunko rang his watch at the town hall. As if from the wave of Douglas's hand, birds chirped from the trees with chirping. And he, conducting his orchestra, pointed to the eastern sky. And the sun appeared over the horizon. Douglas folded his arms across his chest and smiled like a real miracle worker. Well, he thought. - It was enough for me to order - and everyone picked up, everyone ran. Summer will be wonderful. " And he finally clicked his fingers to the town. The doors of the houses opened abruptly - people went outside. The summer of 1928 began.