The red-haired clown. A novel. Elena Fedorova

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СКАЧАТЬ gleaming copper of the polished pipes. She had curls at the temples. Her eyes were hidden behind black velvet lashes. And there was a boy beside her. O-oo-oh…” Lele closed her eyes. “The image of this boy still excites my imagination. He was not a child but a three-year-old angel with plump rosy cheeks and large, as cherries, eyes. He was also dressed in something lacy. Having seen this sugary family, I froze,” she paused, showing in what position she stopped on the sidewalk. Charles and Simone exchanged glances, thinking about their angel from the boarding house.

      “I was standing and looking at the sugary family, and people around me were shouting: “Benosh, Benosh, Benosh!” Lele continued enthusiastically in a mysterious voice.

      “Benosh, I repeated, having decided to call my baby this name. You, Charles, got the name.”

      Lele smiled, thinking that for the first time she was calmly talking about the child she never had. Though, she has the grown-up Benosh and not very grown-up Simone, who are taking Bebe and her to visit a rich uncle.

      “You know, Lele, I am that same sugary three-year-old boy, whom you saw,” Charles said.

      “You?” she waved away. “It cannot be true.”

      “Lele, Charles Benosh is my real name,” Charles smiled. “Benosh is the last name of my parents.”

      Lele turned pale, pressed into the seat, and retreated into herself.

      “We appreciate jokes, son,” Bebe said.

      “But we never made a fool of anyone.”

      “He is not fooling you,” Simone exclaimed.

      “There is a portrait of little Charles and Natalie Benosh, dressed in white lacy clothes, in our house. Lele described them very accurately. On that day, about which Lele was telling, the Benosh family was driving from the artist Baudelaire, who was painting a portrait of Natalie at the request of my father.”

      “Really?” having hopefully looked at Simone, Lele asked.

      “Yes, yes, Lele, having given Charles the name Benosh, you gave him back his last name,” Simone said. “If you named him differently, we would have never found him. Thank you, dear Lele.”

      Lele began to wave at her and dropped her head on her knees. Bebe ran his hand over her back.

      “Well, now we have a new number the clown bursts into tears. It will not work this way. We still have to entertain the respectable public in the evening. Brace up, pull yourself together.”

      “Tonight, we will not let you go,” Simone said. “We have kidnapped you to invite for dinner with the best people.”

      “No, no,” Lele roused herself. “I will not stay for any dinner.”

      “You will stay,” Simone said forcefully, “because the best people are you, Bebe, my uncle Schwartz, Madame La Rouge, and Charles. Today is our day. It is the day of happiness, the day of dreams and hopes. You have long wanted to escape from the circus and to go traveling around the world,” Lele nodded.

      “So, Marie, consider that your journey has already begun.”

      “Oh, my soul, you know my name,” Lele said, having pressed her palm to her chest.

      “Yes,” Simone smiled. “Now I will always call you Marie. And you Michael.”

      Bebe grunted, rubbed his nose, smiled, and said:

      “You are able to move even the most insensitive ones, Mademoiselle Simone.”

      “You are not insensitive,” having gently looked at him, Simone said. “You are the best people, who can give away their warmth, kindness, and tenderness, sent down to us from heaven.”

      “Freely you received, freely give”, Lele said. “Give, grant, gift others.”

      “The person who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the person who sows generously will also reap generously”,1

      Bebe smiled, continuing to rub his nose to hide confusion and tears.

      “We never chased wealth, we were content with what we had.”

      “The one who loves money will never be satisfied with money, he who loves wealth will never be satisfied with his income. This also is futile!”2

      “Lele said, having winked Charles.”

      “Thank you, my dear Marie and Michael,” he said. “Your wise lessons helped me become a good person.”

      “Goodbye, the red-haired clown. Hello, Charles Benosh,” Simone said. The carriage stopped near the house with white columns. Charles helped the ladies to go down. The porter opened the door to a new life, full of unexpected events and new experiences…

      Charlottenberg

      The town of Charlottenberg is a little miracle at the end of the world. A few dozen houses are nestling on a huge cliff, which is being hit by the roaring waves of the cold ocean. From time to time, white chunks of iceberg are drifting along the horizon. The northern strict beauty of the pale nature is fascinating. Its dullness, unsightliness, inconspicuous, discreetness, and homeliness contain the unprecedented power of charm. It is impossible to look away.

      “Oh, my heart is filled with trembling joy!” Simone whispers, having sat next to a strange flower that looked like coral pyramids, connected by arrow-shaped green stems. Like a red light, it sticks out of the ground, having moved apart from the snow melted in the sun. It was a smooth gray-brown circle, within which there was a flower, reminiscent of the arena of the circus. Charles smiles skeptically:

      “The circus… the arena…” it seemed it was long ago, in the past life. And it has been only one year. Only one year. One year. The whole year. The year of Simone and him, which began in the house-castle with columns and many servants dressed in golden liveries…

      Lele and Bebe sat at the table with confused and wondering faces. Seeing them like that was a big surprise for Charles, although, he also did not behave like always. Along with clownish clothes, he took off his clownish mask, became thoughtful and serious. Having sat down at a large dining table, served with expensive dishes, Charles projected to his childhood. Pictures of the past rose so vividly in his mind that Charles was surprised:

      “Why hasn’t this happened before?” and he answered himself: “Probably, that’s because the situation was not like this, was not appropriate. The dozing consciousness inside her could not awake. There were people, who could not lift the veil of the past, light the floodlights, illuminate the stage, where the action was taking place. The past came to life. Charles saw Natalie Benosh, dressed in a simple dress, like all the servants usually wore. Why does she need this attire? So no one could recognize her as the wife of the head of the secret society. Natalie floats through the rooms, like a shadow. Edward Benosh, dressed equally modestly, stops her, kisses her hand, whispers something, and apologizes. Natalie smiles sadly and disappears. A heavy curtain covering the door, behind which Natalie has disappeared, is rocking slightly.”

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