Just recently, a childhood friend of mine told me a strange story that is hard to believe. But since Stepan is a serious man and does not like to talk, I believed in his story. We are village people and we have no time to engage in nonsense, let alone chatter. Here is his story.
I sat on the bank of a small forest river and watched the float. Something didn't bite at all. I've been sitting for two hours and more than one bite. Where are all the fish? Where did you hide? Maybe the weather is to blame? I got up leaving the float alone, deciding to warm up. After walking a little along the shore, I noticed a small hole in the ground. -It's someone's nora, I thought. Coming closer and scattering old, dry branches, I saw that this was not a hole, it was a hole in the ground with a diameter of two or three meters. “Well, okay,” I thought, “I'll see it later.
I sat down in my seat again and stared at the float thinking about something.
Someone quietly touched me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw the old man. He stood and smiled, a kind old man. In his hand he held a branch from a dried tree, the end of which rested against my shoulder.
- What son, does not bite?
“Yes, he doesn't want something today,” I answered him.
- Have you tried on grasshoppers? We used to catch grasshoppers.
Promotional video:
- When is it before? - I ask
- For a long time. I haven't caught it for two hundred or three hundred years, - replies the grandfather.
- How much? - I chuckled, - Well, you give me a grandfather. Master you lie.
- So you think I'm lying? In old age, he called me a liar. Not good. But I live in a world where time is completely different.
“I’m talking, dreamer,” I muttered and turned away.
After a couple of seconds I wanted to tell him something else, but my grandfather was gone. As it fell through the ground. - Some strange old man, - I thought.
- Son, help me, - I heard the old man's voice from the side of the hole.
So, I think, my grandfather fell on my head, he doesn't let me go fishing. But still he went to see what happened to him there.
I came to the sinkhole. Grandfather was not visible.
- Son, - I heard the voice of my grandfather sounding from the pit, - help to get out of here. Give me a hand.
- What did grandfather fail? You have to be more careful. And if I was not there, I would have sat in this pit.
An old man's hand was peeping out of the pit.
- Well, will you give your hand no? - the old man puffs.
I went over and took his hand. The hand was icy as if it was lying in the refrigerator.
“Why are my hands so cold, I’m going to die,” I smiled and pulled her.
- Well no. It's too early for me, but it's time for you, - the old man answers, pulling my hand.
I flew down, and in a second I was lying at the bottom of the pit.
- He doesn't like my hands, - the old man says menacingly, - Now you will have the same.
I looked around. It was four meters to the surface. A black passage ran to the side under the ground. An old man stood next to me, looking at me angrily.
- What are you grandfather? - I shouted to him, - How will we get out of here now? Are you crazy?
- Well, I have no need to get out of here. I live here. I do not like it when they call me a liar.
- Well, excuse me, grandfather, I didn't think that you would be so offended, - I say to him, but inside myself everything is driving me down with horror. I directly felt the power of the old man over me with my liver.
- Do you want to live with me, a hundred years, - asks the grandfather.
“No, no, what are you, what a hundred years,” I tell him in all seriousness. Let go of me, grandfather. Sorry if I offended you.
- So you don't believe that I'm seven hundred years old
- I believe. Now I believe. Well, please let me go,”I said in a pleading voice.
- Consider that you are lucky, - says the grandfather, - I want to sleep. I'm tired. Yes, and I'm used to it alone. And with you it hurts too much noise. I will let you go if you give your word not to tell anyone about what I saw.
- I give you my word. Nobody.
- Okay, get out. I'm going to take a nap. Will you come out yourself?
- I'll get out of course, - I perked up, - Listen, grandfather, why is the air here so thick as jelly?
- It's not air. This is the time here, - the old man whispered and disappeared into the darkness of the underground passage.
I began to climb up, clinging to the protruding roots and stones. On the third or fourth attempt, with great difficulty, I nevertheless found myself on the surface and had already begun to stand up, when suddenly … I again found myself at the bottom of this failure … - Not that, - I groaned. From the darkness came the giggle of the old man.
- You let me go, - I shouted into the darkness, - What do you want?
- And can you still come with me? - was heard from the darkness.
- No, I won't go, - I shouted, - You have your own life, I have my own.
- Let's go, - the old man's voice sounded angrily.
How I got to the surface, I no longer remember. I only remember how I ran away from the river, forgetting both the rod and the backpack on the bank.
I come home dirty as hell, the earth is under my shirt, and my wife is in a panic. And swears and cries and laughs. It turns out that a day has passed since I went fishing. I spent only ten minutes in this pit, and here a day passed. Not lying means the old man. Indeed, in this failure, time passes differently.
I never went to that place again. It's scary to meet with that grandfather again. I asked the village fishermen about that failure. “There’s no failure there,” they say. Well there is no way. I calmed down a bit, of course, but I still won't go to that place. I'd rather get along little by little in my time. I got used to my time.