When they asked the moon: “What is your name?” She answered: “The Moon, but everyone calls me Lou.”
True, in this way she was presented only to those people whom she liked. For everyone else, the girl was just Alina. The usual boring Alina from an ordinary boring family. Her parents almost never quarreled, and if this happened, they quickly put up. In the evenings at dinner, they did not bother with the phones but enthusiastically discussed the past day. On weekends, the family tried to get out somewhere and take a long walk with Chanterelle. The parents of the moon were happy and constantly smiled at each other during these walks, like newlyweds.
Dad, however, sometimes went on business trips, but rare and short. And therefore, there was no thought, for example, that he would never return and now Lou would have to cope with his mother himself. In addition, he often called on Skype, and when he couldn’t succeed, he still found a moment to write to his mother and Lou about how he misses and loves them. In general, he didn’t let his daughter feel like an abandoned, forgotten child. Mom generally worked at home. In addition, she loved to do housework and cook, and after school, Lou always had a delicious lunch.
Perfect family. Like from an advertisement for some juice. It was even embarrassing for classmates and, of course, there was nothing to tell them.
Sometimes Lou imagined that her parents used to have other families and somewhere, perhaps, her half-sister lives. But no, dad and mom always went through life together, starting from first grade.
What if the moon itself is receiving? But dad’s blonde hair and mother’s round face and large gray eyes, unfortunately, said the opposite.
Everything would be fine, but a bunch of books read convinced the moon that miracles do not happen with such ordinary happy children. The owl will not fly from Hogwarts, the godmother will not give crystal slippers, and the book will not become a portal to the country of fairy tales. The moon is doomed to a boring childhood.
The Lou family lived in a three-room apartment in a new building. Just think, the house was younger than her! So, no ghosts. And in general, ghosts avoid high-rise buildings. Everyone knows that. Any terrible stories begin with the family moving to a mysterious old abandoned house. And they moved to an ordinary brand new apartment. And even my mother’s joyful “You can choose the color of the walls in your room!” It did not make the moon happy.
Once Lou remembered the attic. But when I went up to the top floor and looked at the attic hatch, I found a large castle.
There was still a tiny hope for a basement in which mom and dad bought a pantry, but it turned out to be so disgustingly clean and bright that Lou couldn’t even find the smallest spider, and I couldn’t even dream of running rats. During her teen years, Lou saw living rats only in a pet store when she went for dog biscuits for Chanterelle.
Her classmate, Vika, was exceptional. She did not know her father, and everyone in the class liked to speculate on who he might turn out to be - a spy, a super-agent or even a killer on the run! Vika was raised by his stepfather - a strange, huge uncle with a thick beard and a sullen look.
Several times he came to school for matinees along with Vikina’s mother and clearly felt at ease. Everyone in the class was afraid of him. Once Vika showed up with a black eye, and the classroom asked for a long time how she got along with her stepfather if he would offend her if they had their own “secrets”. Vika turned pale, blushed and tried not to betray that when they all, after class, were playing catch-up in the corridor, the most beautiful boy accidentally hit her with a door. Then she still could not stand it and gave up, and for a week she was teased by a sneak.
Oh, yes - Vika was exceptional. She always got into trouble, and she was known and discussed even in other classes.
And who spoke of the moon? Nobody. And her name was also quite ordinary. Lou knew a few more girls with the same name - "Alina."
Somehow she could not stand it and complained to Artair.
Uncle was a photographer. He was twenty-three years old, he graduated from the university and often stayed with them, “while he was looking for a normal job,” as my grandmother put it. Mom even put at his disposal a coffee table in the living room. Rather, his uncle occupied it himself. Usually, he edited a photo on a laptop or drew on a graphics tablet while his mother knocked on the computer keys.
Arthur - that was his real name - always admired the inspiringly working mother: “Look at you - and your hands itch too, do something!”
Mom and Uncle Arthur were very similar. Both are blond, tall and thin, with gray eyes and wide smiles. True, my mother’s face was round, and that of my uncle was sharp, so he seemed trickier, although, in fact, he was carefree, simple and even absent-minded.
Mom chuckled, not looking up from the computer monitor, and asked:
- Admit it, you just got a mom with questions about work and marriage?
“Let me just find a girl with whom I wouldn’t get bored in a week, and I’ll immediately get rid of mom,” answered Arthur.
- And now what bothers you? - Mom asked.
“As I imagine my lonely rented apartment - even a backwater child,” Arthur grunted.
Mom crooked - she did not like such jokes.
“But I'd rather tolerate Mommy,” said Arthur. “And how can she prove that the photographer is also a profession?”
“Less distract on social networks and work more,” my mother threw, without taking her eyes off the monitor.
“Therefore, here I am, O Lord of pajamas and computers, who never leaves home,” Arthur teased his mother.
- I'm out! - Mum answered displeasedly, crossing her legs in pajama pants.
She began to get angry that her brother was distracting her from work.