William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I. Aik Iskandaryan

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      William was looking at all that as he stood rooted to the spot. He felt completely out of place. And no wonder: he was wearing threadbare jeans, old shoes, and a sweater with a white collar sticking from underneath. William thought that he and his clothes really stood out from this background. Feeling at loss, he made a step back and at the same time someone he couldn’t see bumped into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. The clash ended with the sound of broken dishes.

      «Hey, pal!» a female voice said. «Are you going to stand here all day?»

      Barely managing to stay on his feet, William turned around and saw a young woman standing before him. Her clothes bore the same symbol like that on the porter’s.

      Judging by her clothes, she was a waitress here.

      «I’m sorry, ma’am!» William apologized and bent down to collect broken pieces from the floor. «How clumsy of me. I’ll clean it up at once!»

      For a few moments, the waitress watched him with interest, then she asked:

      «What are you doing?»

      Her look told William that he was doing something improper.

      «It’s my fault,» he said. «And I want to help you, ma’am!»

      «Ma’am?» the waitress asked with a smile. «Where are you from, buddy?»

      «I live here, in London,» William got up.

      «And have you ever been in taverns before?»

      «Er…» he blushed. «No… it’s my first time here.»

      The waitress curiously watched him for another moment, then said:

      «Alright, alright! I’ll clean it myself!»

      Then she took a green feather out of her hair, waved it and said:

      «Returno!»

      His eyes wide, William watched the plate pieces soar up into the air from the floor and glue back together. Moreover, the spilled soup splashed into the plate and settled in there smoothly. And then a couple of spoons and a jug flew up, made a circle and settled on the tray in her hand.

      After performing all that, the girl turned to him:

      «Still here? Better sit over there,» she pointed at a table by the wall. «It’s vacant. Somebody will tend to you soon.»

      After a bit, William came round, looked here and there and slowly walked to the table she pointed at. He was seriously considering the fact that it was just a dream. Then somebody all but slammed a thick book on the table in front of him.

      This made William jump up. He looked at the book, which resembled a volume on the world history. He could make out green letters on the cover that read «Menu’.

      «Good day, young sir!» somebody said.

      William looked up and saw a tall thin blond man with large hands. One of his hands was tapping the table next to the menu. William thought that if the owner of this hand wished so, he could easily cover the menu with his palm.

      «Look,» William finally broke the silence. «Where am I?»

      «You are at the «Well-Fed Wiz…» the waiter’s voice broke off as if his mouth suddenly became dry.

      He wasn’t even looking at the visitor, but he suddenly froze, then slowly turned his gaze on William sitting at the table.

      «Sir,» the boy asked. «Are you alright?»

      «I cannot believe my letters…» the waiter whispered slowly, his eyes round with surprise.

      Even though the waiter said this phrase almost under his breath, William managed to hear it. Hear it, but not understand it.

      «Sorry, what?»

      But the waiter didn’t seem to be even listening.

      «Yes! That voice… I cannot be mistaken…» he continued muttering, giving William an even more intent look.

      «What are you talking about?» William said, confused.

      «What is your name?» the waiter disregarded William’s words again.

      «William! What does it have to do…»

      «And your full name?» he interrupted.

      «Hoggart! William Hoggart. Listen, what does my name have to do with it? Can you explain to me where I…»

      «A liiiiie!» the waiter suddenly yelled, slamming his other hand into the table.

      William jumped up in fear again.

      «Green Monogram! This cannot be!» the waiter continued yelling desperately. «No, I simply refuse to believe it, sir!» His eyes bore into William, as if trying to find something in him.

      «What can’t be?!» William asked angrily.

      «But… your last name…» the waiter’s voice dropped to a whisper. «It is different!»

      «Different?» William repeated.

      He felt as if he was going to go mad if nobody explained to him what was happening. And WHAT WAS THIS PLACE he was at?!

      «Is the name Calhoun familiar to you?» the waiter was persistent. «Calhoun? Perhaps you have heard the name Calhoun before?»

      «Look, sir! Stop acting so odd! I don’t know the name Cal…» Now it was William’s turn to trail off.

      The waiter leaned towards him so close that the boy felt the man’s uneven breath on his face.

      «Why did you fall silent?! You have heard this name before, have you not?» he asked, peering into one William’s eye, then another one.

      «Did you say – Calhoun?»

      «Yes. That is what I said. Calhoun,» said the crazy waiter, patiently, but barely holding himself, as he kept peering into William’s eyes.

      «I don’t know anyone with this name, sir…»

      «Green Monogram!» the waiter shrieked as he straightened up. «Mailmages are never wrong! They… they simply cannot be!»

      «Mail… who? Listen, sir, you didn’t even give me a chance to finish!» continued William, not restraining himself any longer. «I wanted to say that I don’t know anyone with the name Calhoun, but it seems familiar.»

      In an instant, the waiter was in a dangerous proximity to his nose again. William even had to throw his head back a bit.

      «Where?! Where have you heard it?» the waiter continued.

      «Well… you may not believe me, but I have a feather with an inscription «Calhoun’…»

      «A feather!» the waiter cried out СКАЧАТЬ