“Marisha! It’s him! I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s our boy!” Roman stepped towards her. “He survived a terrible accident, he was badly hurt. But it’s him. Look into his eyes. Look closely.”
Marina approached, trembling. Every step was an effort. She was afraid. Afraid to believe and find out it was a lie. Afraid to touch him and have the boy disappear like smoke.
She came close. Very close. And looked directly into Misha’s eyes. The boy was crying softly, waiting. Waiting for his mother to recognize him. For his mother to take him back. Even like this. Even broken.
“You… Are you allergic to shrimp?” Marina suddenly said in a trembling voice. “Since I was a kid. I accidentally ate some at a party once and felt so sick we had to rush to the hospital.”
“Yes,” Misha confirmed. “And you were afraid of the dark?” she continued. “You slept with the light on until you were seven. You said there was a monster under the bed.” “Yes, until Dad bought that astronaut night light.”
“And the song? The song I used to sing to you before bed. Do you remember?” Misha started to hum quietly. Off-key. But it was the song. A lullaby Marina had made up when he was a baby.
A silly little song about stars and dreams, but it was just theirs. Marina collapsed. She literally fell to her knees on the wet garage floor and pulled her son into such a tight hug that Misha almost lost his balance.
“My son! My boy! My baby!” she cried, kissing his disfigured face, ignoring the scars, the dirt, everything. “You’re alive! Thank God, you’re alive!” Roman joined the hug.
All three of them there, on the cold garage floor, crying and laughing, unable to believe it was real. Aunt Masha, the housekeeper, watched from the doorway, her hands covering her mouth, crying too. She, who had hung up when the boy called.
She, who had cursed at him, thinking it was pranksters. The guilt would haunt her for the rest of her life. After a long time, they calmed down enough to go inside.
Marina wouldn’t let go of Misha, holding his hand tightly, as if the boy would disappear if she let go for even a second. “Let’s get you a bath. And some food. You need to eat, you’re so thin, son!” she chattered on, planning everything.
“And we’ll call the doctor, Dr. Igor, he’ll come here, and tomorrow we’ll go to the clinic for all the tests.” “Marisha, calm down, let the boy breathe.” Roman smiled. It was his first real smile in six months.
Misha took the longest bath of his life. He stood under the hot water until his skin wrinkled. It felt like he was washing away six months of dirt, pain, and neglect. When he got out, fresh clothes were waiting on the bed.
Marina had kept everything that belonged to her son; she couldn’t give anything away. Every item, every toy, every drawing remained untouched in his room. But the clothes were too big. Misha had lost so much weight, he seemed to be swimming in his own clothes.
He came down to the living room, limping, leaning on his crutch. “There are a lot of stairs in the house, a lot. It will be difficult.” “We’ll redo everything, son. We’ll install ramps, convert a room on the ground floor, whatever you need.”
Roman was already planning. Money wasn’t an issue, never had been. The three of them sat on the sofa. Aunt Masha brought food, lots of food. But Misha could only eat a little; his stomach had shrunk from prolonged starvation.
“Tell us, son, tell us everything from the beginning,” Marina asked, holding his hand. “What happened that day?” Misha took a deep breath. It would be painful to tell, but they needed to, they deserved to know.
“The field trip was to the zoo. We were so excited, everyone was singing on the bus, taking pictures, playing.” He began, his eyes lost in memory. “I was sitting with Petya, you remember him? My best friend…”
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