Spring. The time of year when everything comes to life and renovates: nature, body, thoughts, and feelings. All insults and failures are forgotten in spring. In spring you begin to believe that if you start all over again, you’ll succeed. And right next to me there was a man who knew how to make me feel young, strong, and beautiful.
Ten days of spring passed as it was lived all in one day. The spring air intoxicated me and forced my whole body to work for the sake of love. The streets, all covered in snowy-pink petals from flowering fruit trees, delighted Mike. Perhaps there, in Alaska, it was also very beautiful, but with some other kind of beauty. I would know for sure when I go there.
My English lessons had achieved great results. My American friend was knocked dead with my success. After all, only two months had passed since our last meeting. Then we couldn’t do without a dictionary at all, and now we used it only occasionally. He tried to speak in short sentences slowly and distinctly. I tried to combine the familiar words in the meaningful sentences. We were happy as children when we managed to understand each other.
He told me a lot about himself and his life. He had three brothers: Ken, Don, and Ron. The latter two were twins. Mike was the oldest in his family. When the older boys were nine and seven, and the twins were only four, their mother died after an epidemic of hepatitis. In those days this terrible disease was fatal, or maybe, because of frequent childbirth she was weak or maybe it was God’s will. But out of nine cases she was the only one to die. Mike’s mother was only thirty-four.
Mike told me that he did not remember much of that period of his life. He just recollected that his mother’s skin was very yellow, and he was very sorry for her. Once he hid behind the wooden barn and prayed, asking God to take him, Mike, instead.
“My goodness but you were only nine!” I exclaimed, unable to understand how such a little boy was willing to sacrifice his life.
“I felt sorry for my mom, my dad and especially my brothers. How would they grow up without a mother!”
“Didn’t you feel sorry for yourself?” I couldn’t stop wondering at such willingness in a nine-year-old kid to do this heroic deed.
“I wasn’t thinking about myself. Anyway, I also couldn’t imagine my life without my mom.”
It was the last time Mike prayed. No one knew what was going on in his small but selfless head. Everyone was busy with adult stuff. His father’s grief. His mother’s funeral.
Mike’s father was left all alone with four madcaps on his hands. We can only guess how hard it was, and how he was able to raise the kids. Grandparents on both sides helped at first, but later on he got a well-paid job in Alaska, and they left, all five, to conquer the cold far north. Listening to this story, I realized that I loved that self-sacrificing boy. I loved this man who was that boy, and I would try to do my best to return a faith in God to this man.
The visit was short. When he was leaving, Mike said, “It was strange to realize, but when I arrived home last time, I felt that I really missed you. I came back to check my feelings for you now. You can be sure I’ll be back in autumn. I’ll be back.”
This time, I believed him.