We often visit relatives in the countryside on weekends. And so, one day, a good acquaintance of ours asked us to give her mother a ride.
The elderly woman was returning home, and it was on our way. Of course, we gladly agreed.
We were scheduled to leave early in the morning, and around six o’clock, Mrs. Evelyn Anderson, along with her daughter, was already sitting on a bench by the entrance. The retiree looked elegant. She was wearing a gray coat and a smart blue beret, which accentuated the color of her eyes.
– Good day, I feel so awkward imposing on you. I hope I am not disrupting your plans too much.
– Not at all, not at all, please do not worry. It is on our way. We will get there quickly, in a couple of hours. It would have taken you twice as long by bus.
– Thank you so much for helping me out like this, the woman said joyfully, took off her lovely beret, looked in a small mirror, and gently tidied her hair.
After driving for about an hour, we decided to take a shortcut and turned off the main road. Tall hills flashed past the windows, and a grove turned green ahead.
Looking at the familiar landscape, Mrs. Anderson smiled:
– Oh, it has been so long since I have traveled this road. Everything has changed so much.
– What exactly has changed? I asked in surprise. We are here often; everything seems to be exactly as it was.
– I am talking about other times, the woman replied with nostalgia. Now the hills have become completely overgrown; you can walk on them as if they were a forest. But before, the slopes were bare. Not just trees—there was not even grass on them. Only small stones. Oh, and those little stones were sharp. Like shards of glass. I remember once sliding down that embankment. What a state I was in! My arms and legs were covered in blood.
– Goodness! Why did you climb the hill?
Sensing my genuine interest, the retiree brightened up and happily began her story.
Evelyn was born and had lived her entire life in the village. Her father worked as a driver for the director of the state farm, and her mother worked as an accountant. Evelyn was their long-awaited only child. Thus, they adored her, protected her, sheltered her, and spoiled her. They dreamed that after getting a good education, their daughter would stay in the city and meet a promising man. But life decided otherwise.
When Evelyn was in the ninth grade, Victor Johnson fell madly in love with her. The boy was only a year older, and the young people quickly became friends. Victor constantly walked Evelyn home, making her laugh with tall tales along the way. Where he learned so many funny stories was unclear. He probably made them up himself.
Evelyn’s caring parents naturally did not like this friendship. Her admirer came from a large family, and they lived very modestly. Perhaps that is why Evelyn initially did not take the simple country boy’s courtship seriously.
But one day, everything changed.
During one holiday, the village kids grew bored and decided to walk to Pronkin’s Hill. This tall hill, covered with a stony embankment, was several miles from the village. No one remembered why it was called that anymore. Evelyn, whose birthday it happened to be, went along with everyone.
The ascent up the narrow, winding path turned out to be a difficult matter. Evelyn moved cautiously, trying not to look down. But suddenly, her foot slipped, the stones loudly rustled, and the girl fell onto the prickly slope. She tried to hold on with her hands, but it was all useless. The sharp gray stones slid down with her. She screamed in fear, while Victor tried to help. Slowly sliding down after Evelyn, the brave boy finally grabbed her hand. Then, gathering his strength, he pulled his friend back up. The children’s clothes were torn, and their knees and hands were bloody.
Before Evelyn could catch her breath, Victor slid down the embankment again.
– Victor, what are you doing, climb up! Victor, where are you going? the company, terrified to death, shrieked.
Fortunately, everything worked out. Victor safely climbed back onto the path, clutching something in his hand.
– Do not worry, I am fine. Evelyn, how are you?
– If you do not count the fright and the scratches, everything is fine, the girl answered quietly, looking at Victor in surprise. Why did you go back down?
– I spilled the beads. They accidentally broke. It is a pity I did not gather all of them, the boy said sadly and finally opened his fist. In his hand lay large blue beads. A few more pieces remained in his pocket, on the broken thread. The jewelry was very simple, and inexpensive. But Victor was from a poor family. And even for such a purchase, the boy had to save up.
– And what kind of beads are these? Where did you get them? Evelyn asked, surprised.
– I bought them for you as a birthday present, the boy replied with a sigh. Well, what is done is done. The main thing is that we ourselves are safe.
Of course, Victor was upset. He had saved money for a long time. His parents would give him a small change for the school cafeteria, and he kept putting it aside. He dreamed of how happy he would make Evelyn.
– Victor, give them here. I will thread them all back onto a string and will wear them happily, the touched girl said.
– Evelyn, I will definitely buy you new ones. But just a little later.
– No, you do not need to. I want these beads. They are the most precious to me. If there are not enough beads, then it will be a bracelet. Thank you for the gift!
Stubborn Evelyn did gather the beads. They were reduced by almost half, but that was not important. Victor began to walk her home even more often. Her parents became seriously worried, but they did not forbid the young people from seeing each other. They hoped that after finishing school and going to study in the city, Evelyn would forget about the poor country boy.
But the friendship did not stop. Evelyn often came home on weekends, and Victor was always waiting for her. Then he was called up for military service, and the girl was left alone. She did not even have time to see him off. She came to the village from her studies, and the new recruits had already been taken away.
Only then did she realize how much this strange friendship meant to her. And why does life work this way? They did not speak of love, they never kissed, they did not promise each other anything. But now, such longing! And it was unknown what Victor thought. “He probably decided that my parents did not let me say goodbye to him.”
But, fortunately, Victor was not offended. Two weeks later, a happy Evelyn held a letter in her hands.
“Hello, my sweet little bead. Everything is well with me. I think of you and miss you. Do you remember when we went to the regional sports rally and took pictures there? Well, I brought those photos with me. I look at them and dream of our future.”
The girl teared up with joy. She reread the cherished lines and ran to write a reply. The sincere romantic correspondence lasted for a full two years. And in every letter, Victor called her his little bead. This tender word became a kind of code word for them, reminding them of their adventures on the hill.
Returning from the army, Victor proposed to her. Her parents, of course, were upset, they sighed and grumbled. But what could they do—the young couple was in love. So, they did not interfere. Moreover, they were soon convinced that their daughter had made a good choice. The smart and hardworking young man proved himself to be the best mechanic at the state farm.
And Victor’s character was wonderful. He never argued with his wife. And if he did drink, it was not often. And he always apologized: “Forgive me, my dear little bead, I am guilty, I had a drink with the boys.” Evelyn smiled and said, “Lie down, have a rest, darling. You will be as good as new tomorrow.”
– And so, we lived without troubles, and raised two daughters, the elderly woman finished her story. Only Victor is no longer with us. Now I am a widow; the children are in the city. I live alone in the village. It is true, I have not traveled this road for a long time. When I saw Pronkin’s Hill, I almost cried.
– But you are a lucky woman nonetheless, I told her as we said goodbye.
– I will not argue. That is true. And my youngest grandson looks very much like Victor. He is my joy in my old age, the woman replied with a smile, and while adjusting her scarf, she unbuttoned her coat. That is when I saw the beads, large ones, of a gentle blue shade.
– Tell me, are those the beads?
– Not quite. Victor gave me these beads later. But the first little beads are kept at home, in a jewelry box.
My heart immediately felt warmer from such a story. Mrs. Anderson offered us to come in for tea. But our relatives were waiting for us, and we drove on. We promised the woman to stop by on the way back to see Victor’s original beads.
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