Chapter 7. Continuation 2
Of course, I am fascinated by the city tour, but the imaginary variety of sights quickly bores me. Almost every corner here belongs to the Mormon sect. Mormon Church, Mormon Park, Mormon Hospital, City Library with the same prefix in the name on the facade. All of this is open to ordinary mortals, but the constant invisible division into two classes is worse than in India with their casts. I wasn't in India, but I considered one Hindu-hustler as my friend for a while. That's what he told me.
This isn't the first time Dean has been in Salt Lake City, dashingly steering the streets and trickyly telling us almost every building that can even be remotely considered significant or interesting. He either has an eidetic memory or he once lived in Salt Lake, one of two.
Senior Winchester still speaks only to me, clearly putting "Michael" in every sentence. Sam is sitting in the back. He's silent and pretending he can't hear us, but he's obediently turning his head around and looking at every memorable flowerbed and garbage can his brother talks about. It's as if Sam is waiting for something, and whenever we drive down a new street and return to the centre, there's a shadow in his eyes that he's trying his best to hide.
- Dean, I risk interrupting the tour guide in the middle of a story about a history museum. Naturally, everything else in this city doesn't matter about the Mormons' stories. - Could we go somewhere else?
I look at Sam in the rearview mirror to see how he reacts. Sam turns away from the window and listens to our conversation.
- And where would you like to go, Michael? - Dean asks right away.
Oh, my God, are you kidding me? Damn Winchesters, how the hell do I know what the hell is going on in this town and where are we supposed to go now?
Perhaps there are some other unusual places here?
Sam is fidgeting on the seat and looking at Dean from me.
- Unusual places, - Dean pulls, smiling cunningly. - Somehow nothing is remembered. - We stop at the traffic lights, and he turns back. - And you, Sammy, don't remember where you can stop in Salt Lake City? Or in the neighborhood.
- No, - Sam mumbles and turns his head toward the window again.
A smile on Dena's face disappears instantly.
- Let's just drive around, see if we can find something. - I say.
If they dragged me into their strange game of silence, I'll try to perform my role as well as possible.
Dean looks at me, thinking about something, and then shrugs his shoulders. Waiting for the right traffic light to sound, he turns right at the intersection to leave the historic centre.
- Well, Michael, if that's what you want," he agreed, emphasizing my name.
Apparently, we're going out of town. Again to some witches, werewolves and sorcerers? I'd be afraid by now, but Sam's eyes are wide open when we pass a sign, and it's confusing to me. But the younger brother still doesn't say anything. All right, then. But at least he stopped being indifferently stupid out the window.
November 2, 16.40
Admiration!
No, not like that.
Delight!!!!!
This is the day! I'm sitting on the rocks near an artificial waterfall in the park... until I tell you which one, and I look at the building from which we left ten minutes ago. It's... no, I'd better write it all in order.
We left the Mormon City for the suburbs and ran off to a different place. It wasn't clear to me, but Dean was watching the signs clearly and checking the map all forty minutes of our trip.
We seem to have arrived. Dean hid the map. Just where we came from, I didn't understand a thing. At the entrance gate in the middle of the road, a simple arch without any fence or fence, the inscription "Thanksgiving Point" was placed in a semicircle on top. Thanksgiving Point? I thought we were going to a dog shelter.
But it wasn't a shelter. In front of us there was a huge area of well-groomed asphalt paths, buried in greenery and late autumn flowers. Dean left his car in the parking lot, and Sam had been sticking out at the stand with a map of the place for a long time. There were strange signs like "farm", "garden of waterfalls", "restored landscapes".
Zoo?
A wildlife sanctuary?
Some kind of...pontoon park?
Can it just be that unusual in glades with figured bushes to make a decent hook around the country for this? After all, it was obvious that we drove here in the end.
I was wondering, while Dean was buying us entrance tickets. Sam was winding up circles at the entrance, muttering something under his nose.
Yeah, it turned out to be a park in the first place. But when we got inside, Sam must have forgotten that he didn't care and developed such a speed in the alley that I didn't even have time to look around. Dean and I were almost running after him, wrapping up some strange signs. Finally, I figured out where we were going in such a hurry. To the huge dark building marked on the map and embedded in the flowerbed signs as a museum complex.