There was a vivid memory of once ajussi Jo said a word that the twenty-fourth of August for him is connected with the day of his mother's death, and therefore he would like to pay tribute to the deceased and visit her grave. Little girl perfectly remembered the moment when her own mother gladly responded to the request of a neighbour, and in the morning of that date she woke her daughter as early as possible, so that they could make all the necessary preparations - first they had a quick breakfast, and then they began to dressing.
- Listen, Delia, - mother said cheerfully, trying on daughter a new sundress in front of the mirror. - This year, for your birthday, dad and I will prepare an unusual present for you. I'm sure, that will appeal to you.
- What kind of present, mommy? - asked the girl, who was already impatient to leave the home.
- The one you don't even know about, - mysteriously mother smiled and immediately changed the subject. - Look at yourself in the mirror, dearie! Você é incrivelmente incrível! - she exclaimed in Portuguese.
Delia obediently stared at her reflection. Indeed, the sundress was her face - light, in coffee with pink colours, with short sleeves and embroidery in the form of a rose on the chest. White openwork ribbon encircling the waist gave the whole figure of the baby girl a touching fragility. Delia couldn't take her eyes off the mirror, and a slight blush broke out on her cheeks. Mother, who stood behind her, smiled sweetly.
- Here, take it, - she suddenly thrust a bunch of forget-me-nots into the girl's hands.
- Why? I didn't... - tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Delia asked in an uncomprehending tone.
- Don't argue with me, - woman raised an eyebrow. - We are going to the burial grounds, you forgot?
At the word "the burial grounds" the girl lost heart for a moment and her face turned slightly pale, but after a second her good mood returned - she remembered that they would not go alone, but accompanied by ajussi Jo.
- What should I do with it, mommy? - she asked, looking at the bunch of flowers.
- You'll have to put them on the grave of Jo's late mom... - mother began to explain.
- What's that got to do? - her daughter interrupted somewhat harshly.
Woman was taken aback for a moment - it seemed that she would never get used to the fact that her daughter, like all children, asks adults tricky questions. However, she immediately pulled herself together and smiled good-naturedly at the baby.
- When you lay flowers, - she began, - then in the next world, the souls of your grandma and grandpa will be with the soul of Jo's mother for all eternity to protect her and take care of her well-being.
Having finished the speech, the mother, without waiting for an answer, put her hand on daughter's shoulder and led her to the exit. Delia obediently walked ahead, trying not to drop the forget-me-nots from the hands. Her mother followed her, adjusting her already perfectly fitted hat as she went. So they reached the home's entrance door, climbed the porch and found themselves on the street. Delia looked back, but mommy silently pushed her forward. They left the gate and walked along the fence that surrounded their site. When she reached neighbour's wicket, mother stopped and pressed the bell.
At that very moment, the barking of Buffalo - he-dog of ajussi Jo, reached Delia's ears. Baby girl heard him jumping around the yard and throwing himself at the fence, as if trying to climb over it. She knew well that the dog would not touch her, but she still had some fear of Buffalo, so Delia involuntarily stood behind her mother and, covering her face with a bunch, pulled her little head into her shoulders. Mother, sensing her daughter's fear, soothingly stroked her thick black hair.
After a few minutes of waiting, the wicket opened, and ran out into the street with a fussy step the tall and slender young man in a strict black suit, white shirt and jacquard tie. His face had a slightly frightened and even guilty expression - no one could understand why.
- Ajussi Jo! - not hiding her joy, Delia screamed and jumping out from behind her mother.
Man glanced at the girl, as if in disbelief, then glanced at her mother, then quickly grabbed the handle of the wicket - Buffalo was already preparing to jump out after his owner. The heavy wooden door slammed shut in front of the dog's nose, and ajussi Jo, taking the keys from his jacket pocket, began to lock the wicket. Delia silently watched the dexterous movements of the man's somewhat nervous hands. When he finally mastered the lock, the girl suddenly had an unbearable desire for him to take her in his arms, and with the thought of this, she approached him and stretched out her hands, but Jo suddenly drew back from the girl.
- Sorry madam, - he called to her mother, - what made you wait!
Delia, frozen in one place with a bouquet of forget-me-nots in her hands, didn't know how should she be. She was somewhat offended by the fact that ajussi Jo, in relation to her, pretended to be untouchable, as if she were not a person, but some annoying insect. It didn't occur to her that this detachment was due to societal norms that a man should not show interest in little girls - at least in terms of physical contacts, as for simple, oral communication, there was not a single unambiguous answer to this question.
Meanwhile, ajussi Jo put the wicket's keys in his pocket and, turning to the mother and daughter, nodded amiably to them, as if he had just remembered their existence. Delia did not return his greeting, but her mother laughed and offered her hand to the neighbor. Baby girl was a little touched by the way ajussi Jo cordially greeted her mommy, but she never knew if it was just politeness or something else. In any case, she had no reason to be offended, because it was her own fault that she rushed headlong to meet him.
For a second she thought of her dad, who, if he happened to be a witness to this spectacle, would certainly have attacked ajussi Jo with his fists. A chill ran down her back, but Delia was immediately ashamed of her thoughts, considering them bad omens. In addition, she, being the faithful descendant of her family, never allowed herself - at least she tried - to think badly about her father. Delia believed that daddy would never fight over trifles, especially with his neighbour.
After shaking hands, the adults headed down the road to the burial grounds. Delia, slightly offended by the fact that no one paid any attention to her, tightened her grip on the bunch of forget-me-nots in her hand and followed them. Ajussi Jo walked slowly, shifting his legs gracefully and hardly looking around, which is why his whole appearance seemed to tell those around him that he was in sorrow and that the fun of worldly fuss did not extend to him.
Delia's mother, on the other hand, moved quickly and energetically, gesticulating vividly and slightly swaying her rounded hips, hidden under the black fabric of a silk dress. She did not seem to feel any remorse for her frivolous behavior, inappropriate at such a solemn hour. It seemed that the fact that they were on their way to the last asylum for the dead was just an occasion for a heart-to-heart conversation for her.
The subject of conversation between adults was, as it was not difficult to guess, the person of ajussi Jo himself - all the way, mom constantly turned to him with some thoughtless questions, to which the man answered with great willingness. The sound of his voice gave Delia an unexpected warm feeling towards him. There was something about him that no other man she knew had - neither her old father, whom she had known since childhood, nor any of his acquaintances. Maybe it was ajussi Jo's touching feigned impotence, or maybe it was his boyish shyness - from his appearance it was possible to conclude that he seemed to be embarrassed to reveal his true self in front of those around him.
Ajussi Jo talked to her mother on topics that were boring for little Delia, but nevertheless she listened to him with interest, although she did not understand their meaning.
- Why did you choose such an unprestigious profession? - the woman asked him almost playfully
- After the death of my mother, - the man answered with some sadness, - I needed to pay off her debts. I had to sell almost all of her things, and this was the only income at that evil days.
He sighed. When looking at his face, it became clear that for him it was really the hardest times.
- You did not answer me, - the girl's mother said impatiently, walking quickly beside him.
- Sorry, - he answered softly, stammering. - I don't really want to talk about this topic.
- To me you can open your whole soul as it is, - his interlocutor answered with a smile.
- Well, - ajussi Jo's face seemed to light up. - The fact is that I am a professional procrastinator - in other words, an very lazy person.
Delia couldn't help but chuckle as she followed her adult companions. Perhaps it was bad manners, but she just couldn't help laughing - the word "lazy" was too much to match with ajussi Jo's personality, with his knowledge and manners. Hearing her chuckle, the adults stopped and looked around. The mother carefully looked at her daughter, in her eyes there was bewilderment, mixed with not yet obvious, but still anger. Her daughter felt uncomfortable and smiled guiltily.
- Dearie! - mother said sternly. - You can't laugh at other people's shortcomings - everyone has them. And, of course, you have no less of them than anyone else.
Delia lowered her eyes. Ajussi Jo realized that something had to be done to ease the awkwardness. He gave the girl a friendly wink and turned to her mother.
- It's okay, madam, - he said in a conciliatory tone, - do not reproach the child for the fact that adult conversations are funny to him. You yourself, probably, behaved in the same way in your youth. It will pass with age.
This speech by ajussi Jo had its effect on Delia's mother, who, after a few moments of hesitation, nodded her head emphatically.
- Well, mister Thurlow, - she said. - Let it be your way.
The girl saw how difficult it really was for her mother to take this step, but she did not begin to feel compassion for her -she was much more touched by ajussi Jo's willingness to do something for her, the little and trusting daughter of a pharmaceutist. On her face, in addition to reciprocal gratitude, a gentle smile appeared, and she looked at the man with her large innocent eyes. Ajussi Jo didn't seem to notice - he just turned and continued on his way to the burial grounds.
- All my adult life I tried to delay the moment, - he continued the dialogue, - when I have to start working for a living. When I was younger, I lamented that society was not able to easily give benefits to everyone and everyone, - At these words, he sighed. - But, as you understand, the cornucopia is just a utopian symbol, and therefore, with a heavy heart, I had to agree with the foundations of our imperfect world.
- Curious, - Delia's mother said thoughtfully, - so are you satisfied with your profession? I know she don't make a lot of money.
- It's not so much about the money, - said ajussi Jo. - I went down the path of a culturologist solely because, so as not to spend a lot of time at work.
- You want to say that even this job exhausts all your strength? - his interlocutor frowned.
- I believe that a person should not live only by labour. I hated the idea of becoming some kind of salesclerk or steward - because others will treat you not as an individual, but only as a screw in a social
structure. Such work deprives me of the possibility of self-expression, and my nature does not accept this.
- I would not say that I am satisfied with your outlook on life, - woman said with hidden contempt. - I wonder how your late mother felt about this?
- She wasn't happy with it either, - bowed his head ajussi Jo. - She constantly lamented, seeing how I wasted her money to no purpose. I understood how hard it was for her, because she had to earn a living and my upbringing alone...
- Did you consider yourself not a good son? - Delia's mother interrupted him unexpectedly.
- Hard to give answer, - man shrugged. - I never claimed to be an outstanding person. Parents tend to idealize their children, but the child wants to be himself first and foremost, and I was no exception.
- Oh, those children... - thoughtfully said his interlocutor.
After these words, Delia's mother gave her daughter a look of regret and pity for a moment.