Читать книгу The Door - Диана Невидаль - Страница 8

– Stomp your feet to knock the snow off.

The phrase came out too harsh. The tone did not match the content at all, but there was nothing Agatha could do about it.

– Change of clothes now.

The next phrase was said only when mother and son, reddened by the cold wind, made their way to the changing room.

Mark only let out a sullen «uh-huh» in reply. Once he was in full readiness to go to class, he headed right towards the door to the hall without a word.

– Go.

Agatha said it in his back, but as if he went because she told him to, not because he was out of control.

Automatically, the young woman began to gather and roll up her son’s clothes, and meanwhile tears began to gather in her eyes unabashedly.

No, you can’t. There are too many people around, you don’t want to spoil children’s mood before class. And I don’t want to draw too much attention either.

There were indeed still a few kids in the locker room, mostly with their mothers. Some13 had even just arrived, at the risk of being late for the warm-up.

Agatha packed her clothes and shoes into bags and went out into the hall. Fortunately, no one was here now, and this saved the girl from being torn from inside by her tears.

She fell on the seat, her head fell on her hand, and then the tears from her eyes fell into her palm. But most importantly, her heart. It had held on all the way here, and now it too had fallen. It had even rather fallen out and rolled somewhere under the radiator.

He did it out of spite. On purpose.

Agatha gave herself a full thirty seconds of weakness. Then she inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again. Fingers pressed her eyes to stop the salty flow, wiped surroundings.

Just in time – the locker room door opened and someone’s mother headed to the exit.

He knew this cup was my favourite. My cup. He deliberately wanted to hurt me. He could have reached for any cup, but he broke mine.

As soon as the front door began to close, the tears made another foray. This time Agatha could no longer afford this, so she carefully began to regain her breath again.

Well, he wanted to hurt me, and he did. Everybody does. Sooner or later. To one person or another.

Inhale. Exhale.14 Inhale.

There are no people who have never encountered the cruelty in themselves. Only people who lie outrageously to others and to themselves can convince you otherwise. The question is what we do about it.

Even many adults do not know how to manage their anger. It has to be taught. Again, the question is how to teach it properly.

Breathe out. Breathe in. In. In. In.

We’re quite lucky, in fact. Lucky it was a cup.

My favourite bloody cup!

A nasty lump of irrational resentment stirred in the back of her throat again and began to creep up.

But a cup nonetheless. Could have been someone’s head in the kindergarten. Could have been a stray puppy. Could have been a wounded pigeon.