Michael’s Ark. Alex Nuller

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      “Camel”, Mike said, “I didn’t quite understand everything you said. Can I just call you “Dreamer”?

      The camel put all four of his hooves in front of himself, put his head on them and thought for a moment.

      “On one hand”, Camel began, “addressing me as ‘Dreamer’ smacks of a certain familiarity3. On the other hand, if one wishes to remain in a home and to make a favourable impression4, it won’t do to be too fastidious5 in such matters. Hence, I have no objection to you calling me ‘Dreamer’, young man”.

      Mike was beginning to understand some of what Camel was saying.

      “And I’m Mike!” Mike said. “You can call me Mike.”

      “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mike”, Dreamer said, “however, allow me to observe that the use of nicknames is somewhat questionable in a formal relationship6”.

      “You don’t need to be questionable with me”, Mike said. “I’m still a kid”.

      “Very well”, Camel said. “We shall refer to each other on intimate terms, even though such forms of address presuppose an amicable relationship7 between the parties involved”.

      “There’s no need for us to be amicable either. We can be friends instead”, Mike said. “We’re all friends here in this house. Let’s be friends!”

      Camel considered this briefly. “I am afraid that you’re not taking my meaning precisely, young man.

      “However, although a proposal such as yours may be somewhat premature8, it is nonetheless quite gratifying9 for a lonely camel. Therefore”, Camel said, raising his head to Mike, “I am pleased to accept it. And allow me to mark the commencement¹¹ of our friendship by referring to you as ‘my young friend’”.

      “You can call me that, if you want to,” Mike said. “It’s okay with me”.

      Mike took Camel in his arms and sat him on the sofa.

      “Dreamer,” said Mike, “why do you talk so funny?”

      “And what is it that you find humorous about my speech, my young friend?” Camel asked.

      “Well, it’s not easy to understand what you say. Can you say things a little simpler?”

      Once again Camel stopped to think this over.

      “I shall try,” he said, “but I can’t promise”.

      Mike wanted to know as much as he could about his new acquaintance.

      “Where do you come from, Dreamer?” Mike asked.

      “I come from Africa, from the desert”.

      “And what did you do there?”

      “I once worked in a caravan as a camel.”

      “And what kind of work did you do as a camel?”

      “I busted my hump carrying lots of heavy things across the desert”, Camel said.

      “And where did you learn to talk like that?”

      “I subsequently studied for a long time and completed the curriculum in applied linguistics10 at the University of Alexandria11, where I graduated with a first.”

      “With a first what?” Mike asked.

      “First honours,” Camel said patiently. “Summa cum laude12.”

      “Ah!” Mike said. “So you went to summer school.”

      “My young friend”, Camel said, “it is no simple thing to conduct a conversation with you, given your primitive command of the language. Furthermore, I am quite tired from my journey. Would you happen to have some saksaul sprigs for your new friend?”

      “What’s six-all?” Mike asked.

      “Not six-all, saksaul”, the camel corrected. “It is a plant of the Amaranthaceae family, a shrub or small tree with forked branches and segmented shoots, which camels use for food.”

      Mike thought about this and said:

      “It sounds like you’re hungry, Dreamer. But we only have one tree in the house, and that’s the Christmas tree, and you can’t eat that now. There are ornaments on it. And we don’t have any saksaul, either.”

      “Perhaps you have some camel thorn in the house?” asked Camel.

      “No”, Mike said sadly. “We only have thorns on the cactus”.

      “Very well”, Camel sighed. “Bring on the cactus. One must adapt one’s self to a new environment”, as Darwin13 said.

      Chapter 3. How Camel Met Moosie

      One morning Mike started off on a walk, while Camel stayed home. Camel fussed around the room, pacing back and forth, and just couldn’t get comfortable. Sometimes he stopped, sat down on the rug, stretched out his hooves in front of himself and laid his head on them. Then he would stretch out one hoof from the bunch, scratch behind his ear, sigh deeply, grunt and let out a sustained “Hmmmmmmm…pf!” And after Camel let out his fifth “hmpf!” and scratched himself behind his ear for the third time, a rustling noise came from behind the arm chair. A large plaid throw blanket moved on the floor and Moosie popped out from underneath. He had just woken up and he was trying to scratch his nose with his short little СКАЧАТЬ