Teach your children to read

9 Fun and Easy Tips

With the abundance of information out there, it can seem like there is no clear answer about how to teach a child to read. As a busy parent, you may not have time to wade through all of the conflicting opinions.

That’s why we’re here to help! There are some key elements when it comes to teaching kids to read, so we’ve rounded up nine effective tips to help you boost your child’s reading skills and confidence.

These tips are simple, fit into your lifestyle, and help build foundational reading skills while having fun!

Tips For How To Teach A Child To Read

1) Focus On Letter Sounds Over Letter Names

We used to learn that “b” stands for “ball.” But when you say the word ball, it sounds different than saying the letter B on its own. That can be a strange concept for a young child to wrap their head around!

Instead of focusing on letter names, we recommend teaching them the sounds associated with each letter of the alphabet. For example, you could explain that B makes the /b/ sound (pronounced just like it sounds when you say the word ball aloud).

Once they firmly establish a link between a handful of letters and their sounds, children can begin to sound out short words. Knowing the sounds for B, T, and A allows a child to sound out both bat and tab.

As the number of links between letters and sounds grows, so will the number of words your child can sound out!

Now, does this mean that if your child already began learning by matching formal alphabet letter names with words, they won’t learn to match sounds and letters or learn how to read? Of course not!

We simply recommend this process as a learning method that can help some kids with the jump from letter sounds to words.

2) Begin With Uppercase Letters

Practicing how to make letters is way easier when they all look unique! This is why we teach uppercase letters to children who aren’t in formal schooling yet.

Even though lowercase letters are the most common format for letters (if you open a book at any page, the majority of the letters will be lowercase), uppercase letters are easier to distinguish from one another and, therefore, easier to identify.

Think about it –– “b” and “d” look an awful lot alike! But “B” and “D” are much easier to distinguish. Starting with uppercase letters, then, will help your child to grasp the basics of letter identification and, subsequently, reading.

To help your child learn uppercase letters, we find that engaging their sense of physical touch can be especially useful. If you want to try this, you might consider buying textured paper, like sandpaper, and cutting out the shapes of uppercase letters.

Ask your child to put their hands behind their back, and then place the letter in their hands. They can use their sense of touch to guess what letter they’re holding! You can play the same game with magnetic letters.

3) Incorporate Phonics

Research has demonstrated that kids with a strong background in phonics (the relationship between sounds and symbols) tend to become stronger readers in the long-run.

A phonetic approach to reading shows a child how to go letter by letter — sound by sound — blending the sounds as you go in order to read words that the child (or adult) has not yet memorized.

Once kids develop a level of automatization, they can sound out words almost instantly and only need to employ decoding with longer words. Phonics is best taught explicitly, sequentially, and systematically — which is the method HOMER uses.

If you’re looking for support helping your child learn phonics, our HOMER Learn & Grow app might be exactly what you need! With a proven reading pathway for your child, HOMER makes learning fun!

4) Balance Phonics And Sight Words

Sight words are also an important part of teaching your child how to read. These are common words that are usually not spelled the way they sound and can’t be decoded (sounded out).

Because we don’t want to undo the work your child has done to learn phonics, sight words should be memorized. But keep in mind that learning sight words can be challenging for many young children.

So, if you want to give your child a good start on their reading journey, it’s best to spend the majority of your time developing and reinforcing the information and skills needed to sound out words.

5) Talk A Lot

Even though talking is usually thought of as a speech-only skill, that’s not true. Your child is like a sponge. They’re absorbing everything, all the time, including the words you say (and the ones you wish they hadn’t heard)!

Talking with your child frequently and engaging their listening and storytelling skills can increase their vocabulary.

It can also help them form sentences, become familiar with new words and how they are used, as well as learn how to use context clues when someone is speaking about something they may not know a lot about.

All of these skills are extremely helpful for your child on their reading journey, and talking gives you both an opportunity to share and create moments you’ll treasure forever!

6) Keep It Light

Reading is about having fun and exploring the world (real and imaginary) through text, pictures, and illustrations. When it comes to reading, it’s better for your child to be relaxed and focused on what they’re learning than squeezing in a stressful session after a long day.

We’re about halfway through the list and want to give a gentle reminder that your child shouldn’t feel any pressure when it comes to reading — and neither should you!

Although consistency is always helpful, we recommend focusing on quality over quantity. Fifteen minutes might sound like a short amount of time, but studies have shown that 15 minutes a day of HOMER’s reading pathway can increase early reading scores by 74%!

It may also take some time to find out exactly what will keep your child interested and engaged in learning. That’s OK! If it’s not fun, lighthearted, and enjoyable for you and your child, then shake it off and try something new.

7) Practice Shared Reading

While you read with your child, consider asking them to repeat words or sentences back to you every now and then while you follow along with your finger.

There’s no need to stop your reading time completely if your child struggles with a particular word. An encouraging reminder of what the word means or how it’s pronounced is plenty!

Another option is to split reading aloud time with your child. For emerging readers, you can read one line and then ask them to read the next. For older children, reading one page and letting them read the next page is beneficial.

Doing this helps your child feel capable and confident, which is important for encouraging them to read well and consistently!

This technique also gets your child more acquainted with the natural flow of reading. While they look at the pictures and listen happily to the story, they’ll begin to focus on the words they are reading and engage more with the book in front of them.

Rereading books can also be helpful. It allows children to develop a deeper understanding of the words in a text, make familiar words into “known” words that are then incorporated into their vocabulary, and form a connection with the story.

We wholeheartedly recommend rereading!

8) Play Word Games

Getting your child involved in reading doesn’t have to be about just books. Word games can be a great way to engage your child’s skills without reading a whole story at once.

One of our favorite reading games only requires a stack of Post-It notes and a bunched-up sock. For this activity, write sight words or words your child can sound out onto separate Post-It notes. Then stick the notes to the wall.

Your child can then stand in front of the Post-Its with the bunched-up sock in their hands. You say one of the words and your child throws the sock-ball at the Post-It note that matches!

9) Read With Unconventional Materials

In the same way that word games can help your child learn how to read, so can encouraging your child to read without actually using books!

If you’re interested in doing this, consider using PlayDoh, clay, paint, or indoor-safe sand to form and shape letters or words.

Another option is to fill a large pot with magnetic letters. For emerging learners, suggest that they pull a letter from the pot and try to name the sound it makes. For slightly older learners, see if they can name a word that begins with the same sound, or grab a collection of letters that come together to form a word.

As your child becomes more proficient, you can scale these activities to make them a little more advanced. And remember to have fun with it!

Reading Comes With Time And Practice

Overall, we want to leave you with this: there is no single answer to how to teach a child to read. What works for your neighbor’s child may not work for yours –– and that’s perfectly OK!

Patience, practicing a little every day, and emphasizing activities that let your child enjoy reading are the things we encourage most. Reading is about fun, exploration, and learning!

And if you ever need a bit of support, we’re here for you! At HOMER, we’re your learning partner. Start your child’s reading journey with confidence with our personalized program plus expert tips and learning resources.

Author

Online Phonics Program - Teach Your Child to Read™ Phonics Reading Program / 5 Minutes A Day

A Simple Phonics Reading Program for You and Your Child

Over the years, educators have experimented with a variety of ways to teach children to read, but none of them has offered the rate of success that phonics does, which is why many school systems have reverted back to systematic, phonics-based methods. But some haven't! Science tells us that phonics is the best way to teach children to read, so why not make sure your child learns to read with phonics?
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Compare Online Reading Programs*

Teach your child to read in 5 minutes a day.

Read online “Teach Your Children”, Ivan Faber – Litres

Part 1

Chapter 1

The house, devastated by the lack of movement, was clearing up at dawn. Here and there, through the uncurtained edges of the windows, the sun was breaking through. For some of the inhabitants of this combination of rooms, the dissipation of darkness meant only one thing - the beginning of a new day.

What should be the reaction of the owner when the dog's barking and frantic sounds, which are the result of their violent activity, make him open his eyelids, because the dream is already gone. If he had not been familiar with his pets, at first there would have been an attempt to calm them down, to separate them from each other, in order to somehow prolong the peace that had been interrupted. Alas and ah, this algorithm of actions has long outlived its usefulness, and the owner had no other choice but to get out of a deep bed.

The man sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his stubble-covered face, as if getting rid of the remnants of sleep. The digital clock on the stool to the right of the bed showed six in the morning. Glancing at them, the man finally rose to his feet, dissolving into the darkness of the room.

He went through the corridor and turned left into the second door. Turning on the light with a movement of his hand, the man faced his own reflection in a dirty, stained mirror. In front of him, leaning with one hand on the sink, with the other on the wall near the mirror, stood a gloomy, thirty-year-old man. He saw in front of him a face that had not been shaved for about three weeks, deep green eyes that gave off red irritation, thick eyebrows above them, medium-length dark hair that curled in places.

The man examined his own appearance for a long time, apparently somewhat surprised by it, then repeatedly washed himself, performed the necessary manipulations with the toothbrush, and, having undressed, climbed into the shower cabin.

He took a shower extremely passively - the whole procedure consisted in alternating changes in the temperature of the water - first very cold, then extremely hot. However, the man himself, not at all reacting to the changes, stood rooted to the spot.

After twenty minutes of a contrast shower, he left the booth, wrapped himself in a long towel that hung on the pipes, and was about to leave the bathroom, when he once again crossed paths with his own reflection. Reacting instantly, the man went to the sink, took out shaving foam, applied it, and with a few movements of a dangerous razor, quickly, like a barber, deprived himself of excess facial hair. After washing up and looking at the renewed features in the mirror, the man left the bathroom. Lay is quiet.

A corridor from the bathroom led from the bedroom to the kitchen, connected to a wide hall. However, the man preferred to return to the bedroom. Opposite the bed, against the far wall, was a closet with randomly packed things. The man feverishly, accelerating at a pace, began to look for something among the clothes on the topmost shelf. Then he stopped abruptly, apparently finding what he needed. To the touch, he was pleased with the find, but because of the darkness in the room, he still did not understand whether he had found it. Looking at some kind of rope, he nevertheless decided to turn on the light. It turned out to be an old, gnawed leather leash. But the man suddenly threw him on the floor, into a corner, and continued to fumble around in things. A minute later, judging by his slight smile, having found what he needed, he took out another leash from a pile of things, much thicker and rougher than the previous one. After examining the object, finding no flaws on it, the man threw it on the bed, after which he began to dress. Pulling on discreet jeans and a shirt torn in places, the man hooked his hand on the leash and left the room.

On the way to the hallway, at the end of the corridor, right in front of the room, a man stumbled over his slobbery, gnawed slippers. Having picked it up, the man walked a few more steps and found his pair, next to which, on its side, lay a beautiful female white bull terrier.

- Good morning. He greeted his dog grimly.

Without waiting for an answer, he patted the bitch on the side. She immediately cheered up from the touch of the owner, ran through the hall to the exit of the house.

The man followed her with his eyes and went through the darkness to the fireplace, where another black-and-white creature was sitting on a light rug. Noticing the approaching figure of the owner, the dog whined softly.

- Did you really think I would believe that Ty was chewing on my slippers? the man asked and slapped his second bull terrier with a pair of slates. The dog whimpered even harder. - Let's go.

The man fastened the leash on the dog's iron collar and led the pet to the exit of the house. In front of the door, the owner unhooked a leather jacket and put it on.

This man's name is Tom, Thomas Poulson. He is thirty years old. He was born in the fifty-ninth year, in northern Canada.

On this warm morning, and on the calendar it was the fourteenth of September, Tom left the house so early for the first time in a month. For the past two weeks, he'd regularly come home drunk, leaving the front door open so the dogs could walk themselves. It's all about the onset of not exactly the long-awaited, but very suitable, finally official vacation.

Thomas is a police officer, or rather a detective. His whole role, as he himself would say, was to identify the sequence of the crime, find evidence, catch those who broke the law and find out their motives. But in fact, this person was engaged in a much larger amount of work. Maybe I'm in a hurry, and perhaps it's worth talking about this guy's childhood so that you understand which path this person chose, or at least try to understand.

As mentioned, Tom was born in the sixties, in the northwest of Canada, somewhere in the Yukon. Thomas was the only child in the family, but he did not have a family, as such. The boy never saw his father, and even more so did not know, his mother, Ophelia Poulson, a girl with Slavic roots, was on drugs. In essence, her son was left to himself all his childhood. Until the age of five, the mother tried to deal with Tom, albeit not so successfully, but at least somehow, until the substances took over her, because of which, a year later, she left her son forever.

They lived in a small, almost empty house on the outskirts of the town of Whitehorse, in a dirty area where it was disgusting for any self-respecting person to be. The contingent of the population of these quarters were drug addicts, prostitutes, all sorts of freaks, hooligans, and so on. Even the people of the proletariat tried to avoid being here. Tom didn't know what his mother's job was, but as an adult, he began to guess, albeit with disgust, that youth, without giving her any chance for an education and a normal life, forced the girl to endure various bastards who wanted fifteen dollars or a divorced syringe. poppy to tear it off in the toilet of the nearest bar or in the front seat of your car. Tom could not give another explanation of where she found money and drugs from. The boy remained alone from day to day, while his mother left in the evenings and came back during the day, or even did not return at all for more than a day. But, it should be noted that Ofelia really tried to devote time to her son. Thomas learned to walk, talk and read in time. Oddly enough, he remembered his mother's diligence, with which she taught him the first steps, letters and sounds, then reading by syllables. But around the age of four, when his mother was in a bad mood, apparently caused by problems with money or drugs, the boy tried not to stick out of his corner, where he dragged and kept all the children's books and toys bought by Ofelia, since at these moments, the mother seemed to lose her head. Catching her eyes then, the boy undoubtedly experienced all the cruelty and baseness of a creature who, with a cursory glance, wants to see only the cherished dose that will temporarily save the poor drug addict from the incipient derilium. And this feeling of unfair resentment, despite such a young age, Tom kept somewhere deep in his soul. He knew him very well, but would never want to know him.

And now, already at a conscious age, from the age of four or five, when his only hobby was small books with easy-to-read type and simple phrases for children, Tom remained alone with himself day after day. He ate once a day, because Ofelia practically did not appear in the house, only once dropping in to leave her son lunch or breakfast. Tom always fell asleep alone. Every day the mother's mood, and by the way, her state of mind worsened, which led to constant groundless tantrums, a whole range of negative emotions, which naturally poured out on the child. Tom remembered very well Ophelia's spontaneous beatings when she came home only to hurt her son. After that, she always locked herself in the bathroom, shouted something very loudly, constantly broke it, and then bought new mirrors hanging over the washbasin. Meanwhile, a little boy sat under the bed and looked at the stains from his own tears on the dirty, dusty floor.

The Poulson family's dilapidated one-story house consisted of a connected kitchen with a living room, and two bedrooms, one of which was a children's room, which was located in the farthest corner of the house. The other room was the mother's room, closest to the exit, where Ofelia often brought her clients and colleagues. Every year, the understanding of responsibility on Tom's mother decreased, to the point that she simply forgot about her own son, completely plunging into drug addiction. What she didn't depend on. And Tom watched it all. He saw the cruelty of people, saw them as wild, scary, angry, and simply locked himself in his room, and if given the opportunity, he ran away from home.

When it got really boring, Tom went out to a gloomy, gray alley. The boy loved to play with homeless kittens, and often dragged them home while his mother was away. He loved to play with them, take care of their fur, wash them, iron them with a comb. Tom liked the way the kittens purred, and, noticing that these sounds were the cat's reaction to pleasant sensations, he tried to make the animals feel good. He shared his breakfast with them, because, to some extent, having got used to it, he no longer felt the feeling of hunger, and considered it his duty to feed his little friends. Watching them, he was childishly happy, did not scold them if they crap, tried to clean up after them, because he knew that cats should only go to one place. But one day, probably one of the most memorable days for a child, a mother came to Tom's house with another prostitute, who brought two, possibly clients. The boy, having heard the sound of a key in the lock, hastily began to hide the kittens under the covers of his own bed, with the hope that no one would enter his room. Quietly hiding near the closed door, he began to listen to the conversations of adults. Tom heard the men's voices drawn out, some words poorly pronounced, the whore laughing disgustingly, and only a single sound was not heard from the mother.

– Where is he? – Asked the first rough voice. A prostitute's laughter was heard, but, apparently, without waiting for an answer, the voice said: - Should I repeat it again?

In a moment there was heard, as it turned out, a slap in the face.

“She has a son,” the whore sneered.

- No, don't touch it! - It was already screaming mother.

- Sit. - I heard an angry, but calm, confident voice of another man.

Then came the sounds of fuss, struggle, squeals of the mother and another woman. After a minute everything calmed down, but suddenly laughter broke out, and at the same time someone stamped their feet towards the boy's room. Terrified, Tom flew from the door to the bed.

The door was thrown open. Before the boy appeared a huge, bald and at the same time bearded man, with a big belly. His eyes burned terribly, and a rough grin was visible through the thickets of bristles on a disgusting muzzle. Dressed in wide black pants, boots on his feet, his body was hidden behind a dark-colored T-shirt with torn sleeves, over which is a leather vest. The man's arms, thick and hairy, were covered in tattoos: women, knives, skulls.

Entering the dimly lit nursery, the man first glanced around before noticing Thomas.

“Here comes the boy,” the guest whispered in a vile voice.

Loudly thumping his boots on the floor, he covered the distance from the door to the bed and came close to Tom, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, shifting the kittens under the covers behind him.

- Come here, you brat.

The man grabbed the child by the dark hair and yanked him hard, causing him to fall off the bed. Then, lifting the boy by the collar of his shirt, he dragged him out of the room into the hall. Tom endured. Coming out of the corridor into the room, the man threw the boy to the sofa, right at the mother's feet. She, bursting into tears, with bruises on her face, grabbed Tom and hugged him tightly, bursting into tears even harder and louder. Thomas looked around: next to his mother sat a terrible woman, with all her unfriendly appearance pointing to the blackness of her own soul. She smoked, from time to time looking at the boy, then at Ophelia, then at another character whose presence Thomas had forgotten - at the curtained window, in a dark corner of the hall, sat a man dressed in what looked like a business suit. The style of his clothes was acquired as a result of the diffusion of classic, office fashion and biker culture. A thin, flabby face, deep-set eyes, not long, but far from short, graying hair separated his crown, hanging down on either side of an open, wrinkled forehead. He was about forty-five to fifty years old. The man looked very neat and clean, in contrast to the fat man who apparently worked for him.

- What are we going to do, Ofi? - Asked the same voice that ordered the mother to sit. “We can deprive you of your son at any moment, you understand that.

“I know, I know…” the mother whispered through her tears. I will return everything!

Tom did not understand anything, except for one thing - they were in danger. But he was so used to enduring an inadequate mother that in this situation he was more than calm. By the way, he practically did not hug Ophelia, only symbolically taking her hands when she clung to him after freeing herself from the hands of a fat man.

– What do you mean return? The old man rose from his chair in anger. “I don’t believe that you managed to spend everything!”

– I don’t have anything now, I told you why… – Mother sobbed through every word.

- Search the house! – ordered the old man to his kingpin.

The fat man started to turn everything upside down. Although, in fact, the house was empty, but at the same time it was possible to hide something in it among various garbage and rags. The biker rummaged everywhere - in the kitchen cabinets and on the shelves in the hall, tore the pillows on the sofas and armchairs, rummaged along the walls. When he began to turn over the bed in his mother's room, Tom was seized with fear - he was afraid for the kittens.

Finding nothing, the biker returned to his master and simply shrugged.

– And in his room? The old man pointed to the boy.

At that moment, Tom felt his mother tremble.

– Now. - The biker answered sullenly and disappeared into the corridor.

As soon as he was out of sight, Tom escaped from his mother's arms and ran after the fat man. However, the person who was sitting in the corner of the room caught up with the six-year-old child in an instant and grabbed his neck tightly. Ophelia, only realizing that her son had escaped from her arms, jumped up after him, but the woman sitting next to her jumped up and slapped her back in her place.

“Sit down,” she said menacingly.

Silently huddled in the sofa, the mother watched Tom groaning, writhing in pain, and the man in the suit stood straight and looked towards the corridor, waiting for his mercenary.

– Leave him, please!

The man, distracted from the corridor, turned around half a turn and looked out of the corner of his eye, first at Ophelia, then at the prisoner of his own hand.

- Shut your filthy mouth and don't pretend that he cares about you and ever did!

A few days later the fat man came out of Tom's room holding what looked like a box, a black case. Thomas glanced at him briefly - the bald man smiled mockingly, noticing the boy's gaze on him, then went up to the old man and, having opened it, handed him the find. Its owner, having examined the inner cavity of the box, nodded to his worker and threw Tom back to his mother:

- This is not all, but only for your good. We'll be back on Monday for the rest.

Ofelia nodded, grabbing her son in her arms and holding her tight.

The strangers are gone. The mother held her son in her arms for a long time, swaying from side to side. Tom hadn't seen her so alive in a long time. Only after twenty or thirty minutes did she let the boy go. Tom looked at her fascinated, and then asked:

- Who was that?

Ophelia, wiping her cheeks from salt water, was silent at first, not daring to say anything, but, thinking about the answer, she only squeezed out:

– These are bad people, Thomas. But not as bad as your mom.

At that moment, Ophelia burst into tears once again as she grabbed the boy.

- How I love you, my little one.

Tom saw her now so unprotected and so beautiful - thin, fair-haired, with large eyes sparkling with tears. He couldn't remember the last time his mother told him of her love, when she hugged him so tenderly. And the little man could not understand what was happening - who were these people, what did mother do, that she was beaten right at home, why this particular situation aroused such tenderness in mother, and why she had never been so kind to him.

Suddenly, Tom burst into an incredible scale of resentment that he pushed his mother away from him, angrily looking at her, sitting next to him, on the floor, all in tears, perplexed by his son's act:

– My boy, what happened? The streaks of mascara divided her cheeks into several parts.

Tom still couldn't explain to himself why he pushed her away then. What thought in his head made the child reject the only person close to him in his little universe?

He remembered how he turned away from her and ran to his room. And Tom will never forget the next moment.

He saw strangled kittens on his own bed that he had hidden. The lifeless bodies lay motionless, as if frozen. Thomas remembered this encounter very well, his first encounter with death. Before, he did not even suspect that any life can be interrupted, but when he touched the quickly cooled bodies of small pets, he realized that this was also possible. When Thomas replayed this memory in subsequent moments, he clearly remembered that he was afraid of how the mother or that fat man would start to beat the kittens, hurt them, but he could not even think about the possibility of a forced end of their life. And at that moment the boy was standing over the bed with dead kittens lying on it, shedding a tear for a second, he felt hatred for the first time. The tears immediately disappeared, and pure hatred appeared, a desire to inflict similar pain and suffering on those who deserve it, those who do the same evil, arguing with impunity that they will not get anything for it. He could not interrupt this hatred with tears, as ordinary children do. For the first time, Thomas felt someone else's pain, ceasing to be a child so early.

The strangest thing Tom thought was that at that moment, being a little man, he did not think about the cause of death of the kittens, why they were killed. At that moment, he realized that human cruelty is a spontaneous, unmotivated phenomenon, inherent in absolutely everyone except himself.

The silence was interrupted by the mother knocking softly on the door.

- May I? she asked quietly.

Without waiting for an answer, Ofelia entered the room. The boy stood silently in front of the bed.

“Lord,” the mother commented on what she saw and wrapped the kittens in the blanket on which they lay.

She wrapped herself around the mesmerized boy, then took his cheeks in her hands and directed Tom's gaze into her own deep green eyes.

“Listen to me, dear,” she whispered nervously, afraid to cry again. - Your mother did a lot of bad and evil things, for which she will pay for her whole life. There is nothing terrible in this, this is the world - you do evil and it comes back to you. I don't want you to repeat all my mistakes, I don't want you to grow up like this. She hugged Thomas tightly. - Today I will call Uncle Roma, and you will go to rest with him. And mom will work at this time, trying to make your life better and better, - she began to cry again, from time to time hiding her eyes in different directions. “Promise me that you will be a good boy, that you will not do evil things, that you will not hurt others.

Her last sentence was accompanied by a temporary shaking of her son in order to bring his evil state back to normal.

“I promise,” Tom said in a barely audible voice.

- That's good, my little one. Ophelia squeezed her son tightly again. And the kittens need to be buried.

– What does it mean... to bury? Tom repeated.

- When someone dies, it is customary to bury him - to allow the soul to merge with the earth, and to erect a monument or tombstone over the buried - so that people close to the deceased can come and mourn, that is, remember and mourn the deceased. Hold on and follow me.

Thomas held out his hands and Ofelia placed the blanket-wrapped kittens on them. The mother left the room and went to the closet. Tom followed her. She took out only a shovel from a dilapidated dark room.

- Let's bury them in the backyard.

Tom walked, holding the dead, to another exit that led to the rest of the plot of their house. The territory was fenced first with a rusty mesh fence, and behind it with thorny bushes. The house was located next to one of the outflows of the local river, and there were no neighboring houses behind it, closer to the shore.

Their backyard was empty, except for an old broken swing that Tom never rode, and a young maple tree, strangely growing straight up without spreading its branches to the sides.

“I think under the tree they will have somewhere to calm down,” said the mother, took off her sweater and began to dig. - And you, in order not to waste time in vain, count how many times I drip the earth.

This occupation distracted Tom from thoughts attracted to death, and he began to count how many times the mother touched the earth's surface with a shovel.

When the mother finished, Thomas said:

- 24 shovels.

- Well done. Put them in the hole.

Tom carefully placed the coverlet in the dug out place and walked away. Ofelia took up the shovel. As soon as she touched, Tom noticed her teary eyes.

“One… Two… Three…” Mother counted each shovel in a trembling voice.

The boy could not stand it and ran into the house.

Chapter 2

After that very day, Thomas' life changed dramatically. Imagine what a child can experience after such a close acquaintance with real fear, human evil and death at the same time? Your imagination may be prone to panic in a child at the slightest hint of the experience, childhood fear, obsession, but I assure you, that day changed Thomas' life in a completely different direction.

On the same day, Ophelia called her brother, Roman Burtred, told him about everything that was happening so that he would help her or at least take her nephew away for a while. Roman, a formidable and quick-tempered man, instantly refused her this very help, but agreed to take the boy, whom he saw only twice in his life - at the time of the boy's birth, and on one of the Christmas holidays, when Tom was three years old. At that moment, Roman was in Canada on his own business, and decided to stop by in Whitehorse, where he grew up with his cousin.

Roman did not know how things were with his sister throughout his life, and never sought to be interested, because her way of life confused him all the time, and when he found out where she settled with her son, he told her only one thing, after which stopped calling or writing at all: “If the boy needs help, let me know.”

The next night, Thomas did not sleep well, waking up several times from all kinds of noise, which, according to his mother soothing him, was only part of his sleep. The mind of the child, full of melancholy, with difficulty resisted the experiences, and from that very moment, Tom generally lost his chances for healthy sleep. Throughout his conscious life, he recalled that since that time there had not been a single night where he could fully enjoy the rest from the moments of the experience. And that night was the most painful.

The mother stayed at home, and after checking her son's room several times, she went to him to be near him. The boy constantly pushed back the blanket, unable to endure the heat that attacked him. Several times he woke up and pressed himself with all his strength into his mother. Then Ofelia would give him a sip of unhot tea with honey, and for an hour and a half the boy would fall asleep. This did not last long, and at regular intervals Tom began to turn back and forth again, running away from his own fears in his sleep, and eventually waking up in a sweat.

In the morning, when the autumn wind made itself felt, howling in the drafts of the house, the boy's temperature subsided, and his mother decided to leave Thomas alone to cook breakfast. The clock was about seven in the morning.

Entering the kitchen, Ophelia remembered that at the moment there was no food to prepare something to eat, and then, after rummaging through her own things and finding a couple of tens of dollars, she changed clothes to get to the nearest store. Just before leaving, as Ophelia was putting on her boots, there was a knock on the door.

The girl started.

She got up in front of the door and hesitantly reached for the key inserted into the keyhole. A moment later, there was another knock on the door, a rough male voice accompanied this knock:

- Ophelia, open it.

Recognizing her brother's intonation in him, the girl immediately turned the key feverishly and opened the door for Roman.

A man of medium height with broad shoulders stood in front of her. To some extent, he resembled an Italian - thick black short hair, a large nose, dark skin, many wrinkles on a sullen face.

– Roma! cried Ophelia, and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. In a fit of joy, she almost attacked her brother, but something stopped her. She flickered, immediately beginning to correct her own appearance, styling and straightening her blond hair, wiping her eyes, brushing off her clothes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect so quickly…”

“I understand,” the brother said.

He was dressed like a tramp - an old shabby leather jacket, wide trousers held at the waist only by a thick belt, huge boots like those worn by lumberjacks.

- May I come in? Roman asked the stunned sister, who, dumbfounded, would have stood on the threshold.

- Yes, of course, come in.

She opened a passage in front of him, and as soon as Roman entered, she overtook him, not allowing him to fully see the entire “interior”.

- Listen, I'm a little tidied up here ...

- Where's the boy? Roman ignored his sister's explanations.

"Well, he's sleeping at his place," replied Ophelia, rubbing her neck and smiling wickedly.

Roman walked around his sister and began to walk around the house, looking where the light did not fall. He looked at everything haughtily, with contempt. Ofelia understood that his arrival would be accompanied by discontent and grumbling.

Going into the kitchen and not finding anything to eat, the brother looked at his sister, and seeing nothing in her but the foolish smile of a child who was taken by surprise, went to the corridor leading to the children's room. Ophelia followed him.

Slightly opening the door, she showed Roman Tom's room, where he saw his nephew's bed and for the first time, vividly, smiled. It should be said that this man very rarely smiled, but this smile was worth a lot, since there was little that really pleased him.

After looking a little, Roman took his sister's hand and closed the door with her own:

– Are you going somewhere? he asked, noticing that his sister was dressed for the weather.

“Yes, I just wanted to go get breakfast for Tom…” she replied, looking down.

“Let’s go,” Roman said in a barely audible voice, “let’s drive to the city. - Suddenly, the brother abruptly stopped his sister: - Just take a shower, wash yourself, I beg you. You look quite stale.

Ofelia barely nodded and went to the bathroom, while Roman left the house and got into the rented Jeep.

Landing in the driver's seat, he took out a cigarette and immediately lit it. Looked around. An empty street filled with rubbish characteristic of October. On both sides of the alley were far from well-to-do houses and trailers that looked like them. There were garbage cans filled to the brim. Broken asphalt and in some places a missing curb added horror to this backwater, depriving the area of ​​​​hope for the attention of city services.

Somewhere at the end of the street appeared a dark-skinned man in a huge amount of things - hunched over, barely moving his legs, he was walking in an unknown direction, his eyes fixed on his foot. Roman recognized the poor fellow doomed to a terrible habit and immediately spat out the window. Puffing further on his cigarette, he reluctantly looked around the area, now and then closing his eyes from fatigue.

When the cigarette was finished, Ophelia came out of the house - a faded girl with modest steps approached the driver's window.

“Get in,” said Roman, starting the car.

She walked around the car and barely coped with the hard-to-open door handle. Then, seating herself convulsively, she looked inquiringly at Roman.

“For starters, let’s just drive,” her brother warned, driving onto the asphalt cracking under the wheels of the SUV.

Their exit from the street was accompanied by a cold breeze and blues playing on the radio, which prompted Ofelia to start a conversation. Roman was silent.

– How are things at home? she asked in a trembling voice, not yet accustomed to the company of a loved one.

“I don’t think you are really interested in my life, but mothers,” at that moment Roman turned his gaze to his sister, “it’s very hard. She had a stroke last week, I took her to the clinic on time. She is now under observation.

“I'm so sorry…” Ophelia managed after a moment's pause.

- Lies! Roman abruptly stopped the car. Then he clung to the collar of his sister's jacket, she sank into a chair in fear. “If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t be gone with your… that…”0005

He released her and slowly drove the car on. Turning off the radio, the brother took out a cigarette and lit it again.

- You had everything. And how many mistakes have you made? If I knew how you live now, I would have taken Tom away from you long ago.

– So why didn’t you take him?! Ophelia snapped angrily, reflecting on her brother's reproaches. “Where were you all this time while I was forced to work as a whore?!

- Because I was hoping that you would have the conscience to get, if not yourself, then at least your son, out of this shit. And yesterday you called me, saying that Tom was in danger. And let me guess, whose fault is he now suffering?

Roman nodded at the outback surrounding them.

– Is this what you wanted all your life? Does he deserve this?!

Ofelia looked up - they were surrounded by an unsteady ghetto, with no signs of a happy life. The abode of dirt, dust, suffering that the slums bring to already dependent people who are now forever doomed to while away their lives here, in the only area where you can still find a roof for next to nothing.

She felt disgusting. Disgusting from her own appearance, disgusting from where she took her family, her little man, whom she left only in order to give a chance to a better life than the one to which she herself came. And contrary to her own intentions, she realized where she had led Tom, where she herself had come during her own journey into the world of pleasure, ease of existence and impunity of consumption. Freshly applied mascara was diluted with girlish tears and, together with salt water, flowed down thin, pale cheeks, interrupting its path at the chin.

Read online “Teach Your Children”, Ivan Faber – Litres, page 2

But this was not a child's cry of a girl faced with the difficulties of life. These tears concealed an evil, very evil disappointment, coupled with self-torture for her own illusions, which Ophelia built and nurtured while she existed here.

They drove in silence for twenty minutes. Roman did not stop smoking, but the girl buried her eyes in her thin legs and did not raise her eyes. Driving past a lone gas station that poked sideways into a bridge over a local river, Roman turned sharply towards the pumps. Stopping, he warned:

- I'm out for cigarettes, would you like something?

She was silent. Without waiting for an answer, the brother slammed the car door. Inserting the gun into the gas tank, he went to the shop where the cash register was located.

Ofelia looked up and looked around. Behind the station, a ravine began abruptly, the steep bank of which led to a gradually receding river. For the next two hundred meters from the bridge, nothing and no one could be seen along the street.

But suddenly, from the other side, there was a loud noise of cars and a screech, similar to the sounds performed by drunk people. After a while, two cars crowded with young people drove up to the gas station.

A noisy company of drunken and not entirely adequate young people, accompanied by loud music, stopped right at the gas station parking lots. Getting out of the cars, the guys, not without noise, went to the place where Roman had just left. Looking into the faces of the newcomers, Ofelia greedily sought out a face whose appearance was not without suffering, but would still give her joy, however, noticing third-party reptiles, the girl pressed herself even more into the car seat, forgetting about her original intentions to see acquaintances in this campaign. A few glances from this pack nevertheless reached the girl, which Ophelia noticed, who tried in every way to hide her eyes.

About ten people slowly, in a drunken gait, were drawn to the store near the gas station. The cash desk was inside, and as soon as the youth almost came close to the entrance, Roman came out of the door with a usual, unfriendly grimace, and, looking around at the whole company that arrived, passed through it dry, despite some provocative moments.

After waiting for the supply of petrol to run out, he got into the car. Noticing a slightly different, especially sad mood of his sister, Roman instantly suggested that this sadness was caused by local ragamuffins.

– Did they do something to you?

Ofelia sobbed softly, holding back her tears, but answered that they were the remnants of their previous conversation.

– No, everything is fine, I just think about your words..

– And what did you think? Roman asked, continuing to press.

Nervous, biting her lips and playing with her cheekbones, the girl turned away from her brother to the window and only said softly:

– Let's go.

A few moments later, Ofelia asked her brother for a cigarette. Roman silently tossed a half-empty packet from his pocket into her lap. She also found a lighter there.

“I must be a very bad mother, because I allow myself not to think about Tom in the first place,” she began, sticking her hand out the window, trying to catch the wind.

Roman was silent, letting his sister take the lead.

- You remember how we lived as kids, carefree, without being distracted by nonsense and other possible problems, the existence of which they simply did not know at that time. Up to ten years, both yours and mine.

- You lived like this.

- Oh, yes, you're right. Probably all these words are about me.

It slowly but strongly inhaled, draining the cigarette by almost a centimeter.

- But anyway, then we, still being children, gradually left our native nest, acquiring third-party acquaintances, friends and girlfriends. I acquired new interests, desires, fears... I tried to be a good girl, but as long as I was still in contact with my mother. After the first kisses, I no longer worried about her, or my future, or the house. In addition, this whore, whose example has infected our entire generation. The boys wanted to have Monroe, and the girls wanted to have them the way they wanted to have her.

Another puff.

- And now, only at the cost of suffering, I began to understand what happened in those lost ten years, when I gradually turned from a mother's daughter into a cheap prostitute, without noticing it myself. Tell me, Rom, how can I trace this transformation myself, how can I interrupt it? Can a person, approaching the abyss, rely on himself? After all, I did not notice how I was drowning. She looked at her brother with a very painful look, sincerely hoping that he would give her an answer.

Roman was silent, not knowing or even thinking what to answer.

- We are taught all our lives. They teach everything except how to be alone. And you know what's the scariest thing?

The brother shrugged his shoulders.

- The worst thing is that I don't know how to explain this to Tom. If it wasn't for my stupidity, I wouldn't have let him come into this world at all...

– What do you mean? Roman frowned.

- You saw that company, you looked at them with contempt, disgust, understanding what these bastards are capable of when they are pressed against the wall. You know what I'm capable of when I don't have enough heroin. But tell me, who's to blame for what we've become?

Roman carefully looked into his sister's eyes, which inspired only an interrogative intonation, without a drop of justification.

- But if my son becomes the same, I will blame myself, because I know that I could fix it.

- Now you understand your mother. - Strictly said Ophelia brother, borrowing a cigarette from her.

- I don't understand why our mothers took such risks by bringing us here to this hell.

- She hoped that we would not disappoint them.

Are you hinting at me? Look, every time I get disappointed, and not only in myself, when I let another bastard shove me inside me. Are you really still trying to convey to me that I am a disappointment in my mother's eyes? Ophelia started screaming.

Roman ignored her question.

- I asked you to come pick up Tom. Please,” Ophelia took her brother by the hand, “try to teach him loneliness.

Then the brother abruptly turned to the side of the road:

– Did you decide to get rid of your son with my help?

Tears welled up in Ophelia's eyes again. Holding back her sobs, she chaotically felt his hands.

- Look, I'm not...

- No, listen, I won't let you back away from your own child. I came here, I agreed to help, but I will never justify you to him. He has a chance, like each of us, and all your nonsense, which, perhaps, makes you think that you are not to blame, it costs nothing, and I will tell you that only Human! You can shield yourself in front of yourself as much as you like, but ...

Roman stopped at that moment. Something inside him snapped, and he fell silent. The anger quickly disappeared from his face. He slowly got out of the car and, leaning back against the door, went down to the ground.

Ophelia's trembling voice was heard from the car:

– Roma, I'm a drug addict! What kind of mother am I, what are his chances, what are you talking about? Do you wish him the same that shines every child who grew up in this shit? I'm not saying this because I'm trying to get rid of him, but because I'm trying to rid my son of me ...

She slowly got out of the jeep, walked around the hood and sat down next to him. Pressing her brother's hand tightly against her, she began to explain with even greater pressure of tears:

“You can't even imagine how much I hate myself for all the evil that I have already done to my boy! I don't want him to continue to suffer from a nonentity like me. Depending on me, he will not have a chance to live a normal life, especially now, in the situation that I am in. I beg you, at least for his sake, take him, take him so that he can forget everything that he experienced with me, please, Rom!

He nervously exhaled smoke from cigarettes, looking somewhere far off the street, watching the cloudy sky landscape, for a long time not daring to say anything to his sister.

- Good.

Ofelia lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his deep brown eyes.

– Are you serious?..

– Yes.

“Thank you so much,” Ofi whispered back.

- One condition. Do not rush to answer. - Roman, barely blinking, looked at his sister: - I think this will be the best solution if you never appear before his eyes again in your life.

Ophelia, being slightly shocked, did not understand what her brother was leading to.

- You will never again remind him of your existence, you will never again stand in his way, you will never appear at the threshold of his house. Never get close to him.

Roman spoke menacingly, emphasizing every word, making his nephew's mother think.

- I think this is the only possible chance for a normal life for him, and I think you think so too. Think about it.

Ignoring his sister's slightly weakened embrace, he yanked his arm out without any problems, got up, opened the door and got into the car. Ophelia looked to the side where her brother's eyes had just been, not understanding what she was agreeing to, trying to repeat these conditions in her head over and over again.

– Are you going to sit like this? I think that Tom will wake up soon, and we should hurry to his breakfast.

The girl slowly, leaning on her hands, as if in severe dizziness, got up from the ground, walked around the car, feeling the surface of its cold metal with every step. Every moment she came to her senses, but this ultimatum that Roman brought out struck her to the core, where she felt the kinship of the boy she had almost lost.

In fact, over the next half hour, Ophelia relived the most memorable scenes of her life since the appearance of this black-haired miracle over and over again.

She remembered how, being in a very long relationship, if it could be called a relationship, with Tom's father, Peter Rockhold, who became her strongest love, who ruined her, she, young and full of desire to live, despite all a range of tested means of changing consciousness, realized that she was pregnant, made a vow to herself to stop being a victim of high and pleasure. How she admired herself, looking through her tummy filled with life every day. Ophelia contemptuously surveyed the shame that had already taken root quite firmly in her and Peter's house, and yet she hoped that with the appearance of the boy everything would change. She tried to correct her own way of life, and she succeeded, but the bastard, whom she endured so much, pulled her to the bottom, from which, having sobered up, she fled in horror to hell.

Ofelia recalled how, a day after giving birth, she was put out on a windy street with her child, and, holding the baby in her arms, carried him for several kilometers to her home, where she was expected, in the company of the same drug addicts and the parish, "prince".

Without a doubt, the girl's memory also showed those moments that she did not remember before, and would not want to remember, since they did not evoke anything but disgust and anger at herself. She recalled how, facing her own growing up boy whore and drug addict, she looked for only money at home, completely ignoring its existence. And only at the moment Ophelia saw his then look, his bewilderment, misunderstanding of what was happening, but “mommy loves me, and I love mommy”.

As soon as Roman got out of the car to the market, leaving his sister, at her request, alone with him. She howled in hatred at her own reflection, scratching herself, biting her cheeks hard, tearing her hair out.

Chapter 3

The collar was meant only for Demetrius, or as his owner, Dee, called him for short. Tianna, on the other hand, had a calm and passive character, and Tom never limited this girl to a leash.

The street was practically immobilized, with the exception of single cars carrying their owners to the workplace.

Tom dragged Dee out of his own yard onto the sidewalk, where the restless dog immediately began sniffing competitive scents, but in reality, all the local dogs didn't want to mess with him. Tianna wagged her short tail around and around the owner, and when Thomas stopped, wondering where to go, the girl looked inquiringly at him with her tender eyes.

– What, to the park or to the river? - Tom asked Tianna, and nodded at Dee: - He doesn't care, stomp wherever you want, we'll follow you.

Tianna sat down on the pavement, frantically looking around, and after a while her eyes landed on Morning Street, not far from which there was a park.

“Lead,” Thomas said, pulling Demetrius away from the trash can.

Tom liked it here. He moved into his current home about three years ago, right after moving to a new lot. He liked the silence around here. This area is rich, culturally saturated, even oversaturated, if we talk about the accessibility of urban features.

Tom looked down at his feet, tugging at the dog from time to time. The strong figure of Demetrius tried to resist even stronger jerks of the leash, but the owner did not leave a chance for the dog to shit on local paths:

- Be patient, we are already at the crossroads.

Tianna politely walked ahead of the couple's inseparable leash, leading them to their favorite walking territory. Tom loved her for her character, because she reminded him of himself. He is also a loner, like this bitch, who in her entire life has not let a single male approach her, moreover, not a single male who tried to take possession of her, or at least get to know her, did not leave after this meeting whole. She is a dark horse, remaining safe on the sidelines only as long as her own interests are not affected.

Tyanna's relationship with Demetrius was more brotherly than friendly, due to the fact that Dee got to Thomas's house much later than Ti. Demetrius, at the age of two months, was handed over to Tom by the guys from the department where he used to work, while Tianna was found by him in an old wasteland - a thin and starving puppy was looking for owners. The phone on the collar did not answer, and the eight-nine-month-old girl settled side by side with a lone cop. The first month of their life together was extremely difficult for both. Tom, as always, worked overtime, leaving the girl at home alone, but in the end, Tianna learned to be independent, namely, to open the refrigerator and pantry, as well as a window for timely walking. Strangely, she never got lost. After the appearance of a small competitor for attention, the three-year-old Tianna snapped now with him, then with Tom, but later got used to her younger brother, gradually teaching him her own skills. However, she never taught him to have iron patience and control his own behavior. Dee was very naughty, and even now he is not able to restrain the desire to gnaw or spoil something.

Gradually the streets filled with people, and already towards the seventh hour, when Tom and his company almost crossed Morning Street, the crowd rushed to the city center. Squeezing through this thicket, Thomas grinned as the people walking towards him looked at his companions with frightened eyes. However, no matter how much it brought pleasure to Tom, he tried to bypass the territories of the accumulation of a large number of people. He became uncomfortable with the feeling of his own gloating over those who were afraid of his dogs. And although Tianna never attacked people, only growled when unfamiliar children approached her too close or, moreover, began to become impudent and cling to her, Tom was in any case responsible for walking a potentially dangerous animal without a leash and a muzzle.

Slightly indulging his own selfishness, Tom turned across the traffic jam on the street. He caught fearful and dissatisfied glances from passers-by and car drivers, but this was by no means new to him.

After another half a kilometer, Tom finally reached the park. After walking through the alley to the sector of walks with animals, Tom launched the dogs into the stadium and closed the gate behind him.

When little Thomas woke up, an unknown man was standing near the door with his hands folded in front of him. He stood and smiled. Tom did not recognize the man and immediately pressed himself into the blanket, looking for his mother along the way. He never found Ophelia, which caused the boy to panic even more.

– Hush, hush, Tommy! The man began to soothe him, opening his hands in front of him. - It's me, Uncle Roma, don't you recognize me?

Thomas moved away from the man in fear, deep into the bed until he fell off it.

- Careful!

The man took Tom by the arms and quickly lifted him from the floor to the bed.

– Hey, listen, you don't have to worry, your mom is in the kitchen making breakfast. If you want, can we go to her?

Tom silently climbed off the bed and, heading for the door, quickly walked around the man.

The radio was playing. Once in the corridor, Tom smelled an appetizing smell. At the same time, the boy noticed that the floor in the hallway was clean and it was okay to walk barefoot. Going a little further into the hall, Tom recognized the smell of fried chicken. In the kitchen, he saw his mother fussing over the stove, and in the hall - complete order. No trace of yesterday's mess. At the moment when Tom remembered yesterday's situation, he felt so bad that he almost sat down on the floor with a strong breath, but strong hands grabbed him and put him back.

– What are you doing? the same man asked.

- What happened, Tom? The mother heard her son's loud breath and immediately rushed over.

“Everything… good, good,” Tom mumbled.

- Are you afraid of your uncle? Ophelia hugged her son and looked first at him, then at Roman with her unusually shining eyes.

Tom was corrected again - mother is so happy, she forgot everything that happened yesterday? Ophelia was smiling unusually, it frightened Tom.

- No, what should he be afraid of, he's such a strong guy, - said Roman.

Tom remembered that yesterday his mother was going to call Uncle Roma so that he would come for him.

– Will you pick me up? the boy addressed directly to Roman.

Ophelia's face changed radically, her smile and radiance disappeared in an instant, she looked inquiringly at her brother.

- My good one. She took Tom's hands. “I will have to leave, and there is no one to leave you here with, and I won’t be able to take you with me. You will live a little with Uncle Roma, you will go to America, the city of Brillings, to his home, and after a while I will fly in and pick you up.

Thomas looked at his mother and then at Roman with a serious look.

- All right, Mom.

He came close to Ophelia and grabbed her shoulders. Tears welled up in the girl's eyes, the line of her lips was struck by a gentle curvature seasoned with grief:

- Go wash your face, and then come to the table, I have prepared chicken and potatoes for you.

It's been a long time since a full breakfast was served in this house. Ophelia busied herself over the table with trembling hands. She did her best by neatly spreading a light-colored tablecloth, laying out a modest service for three people, mixing it all with plates of fried chicken, baked potatoes, vegetable salad and fruit.

Thomas sat on a chair on top of a pillow, barely compared to the rest of those present, and greedily ate everything that his mother put on his plate. Waving his fork, the boy completely forgot about his uncle and the planned departure, and in order to develop his possible anxiety, Roman began to speak:

- Tommy, I'm sure we'll become friends. - He said this with an unusual smile, and Ofelia noticed in him a serious embarrassment, apparently because Roman was not familiar with the upbringing of children. “Do you know where Brillings is?”

“No,” Thomas said without interest.

– This is a small town in the northern United States… You see, I live in another country, and we will fly there by plane, so we still have a lot of time to get to know each other seriously.

- How is it - in a more serious way? the boy asked, popping a fork with a large potato into his mouth.

Ofelia smiled, looking away, and then glanced sideways at her brother. He was speechless from the question asked, moving a fork over a plate, gasping for air, not finding the right words:

– Well… you know… more seriously… um… not childish…

– How childish? interrupted Tom.

- Well... um. - Roman looked at his sister inquiringly, waiting for auxiliary signs, but she only smiled, giving him the opportunity to get to know this difficult little man on his own. – You know, Tom, we will be like adults. Seriously means grown-up. And since you and I are men, everything will be doubly serious with us. After all, you are already a big guy, it's time to teach you how to be an adult, you probably want to become one so much, right?

"I don't know, I don't think so," said Tom, chewing on the chicken.

Roman's eyes widened at such a sharp answer, moving them from the boy to the table.

“And he knows how to humiliate like an adult,” he said to Ophelia after a short pause.

“Let's finish our meal,” Ophelia got up from the table and went to the refrigerator. And those who finish everything will get ice cream!

But contrary to expectations, Thomas did not show any desire to try dessert, but only jumped down from a high chair, took a plate, took it to the sink and carefully placed it inside.

– Mom, thanks, can I go for a walk outside?

Ophelia, amazed by her own son, stood stock still, unable to say a word. Her conscience once again destroyed the girl herself, and this happened in a really cruel way - the voice in Ophelia's head dictated to her continuous abuse for the fact that she, so irresponsible and bad, unreliable and frivolous, got such a smart and clean boy, with a bright head. An angelic child with green eyes stood in front of her, and looked with those eyes so faithfully, so trustingly, that the girl could not help but burst into tears.

- What happened, mother? Thomas ran up to Ophelia and took her cheeks in his small hands. The girl, in turn, sobbing, tightly clasped her son in her arms, bending her head to his small shoulder.

Roman looked at this, realizing what had touched his sister so much. But he did not believe these tears, as he still doubted Ophelia's consent to his proposal. He leaned back in his chair and slowly rolled his eyes, taking in more and more air in his mouth. It was really hard - he took away his son from his sister, but he didn’t care about his sister, but it was the boy who worried Roman a lot. From the moment of their separation, a major fuss with documentation will begin, Ofelia will have to give up her own parental rights in favor of Roman's guardianship, moreover, Roman himself thought of playing a court situation where he would take away his nephew with the help of a judge. Without a doubt, it would have been much more effective and reliable, but he had prepared this plan at the time of the change in Ophelia's mood, only when she abandoned the actions planned with her brother. Since he almost did not believe in his sister, Roman did not hope to see her yet, and would not be surprised if he knew that she had died in some brothel from an overdose or brutal rape.

He hated his sister. I hated her for her nasty and cunning character, for her stupid childish adventurism, for her short-sightedness. Moreover, he blamed his foster mother for spoiling his sister so much.

His parents died during a fire in their home, the only survivor among his large family was Roma. The only one who agreed to the responsibility of the guardian was the mother's sister, Lana Poulson, who on the day of the tragedy took her nephew. She herself divorced her third husband a long time ago, leaving her daughter, little Ofi, and could not leave Roma alone to the mercy of fate.

Lana herself was a pretty smart woman who managed to build a big business with some clothing brand. They lived very well, not knowing the need and not denying themselves anything. Naturally, Lana was always traveling to parties, resorts, business trips and the like, and the children were left to their own devices. There was only a housewife hired by Lana, who at the very beginning tried to educate Ophelia, however, having not found any means of controlling the girl as a result of her growing up, she performed only formal household duties. Lana almost did not take care of her children, thus raising her own daughter as a stupid victim of youth depravity, with a lack of any wisdom and understanding of life. Roman was saved from all the temptations provided only by longing and bitterness in his soul from the experienced losses. Staying in his attic, the guy spent time reading books, along the way watching how his sister was corrupted. Entering and successfully graduating from the University of Montana Law School, he moved to the States, leaving his foster mother and sister in Canada.

A few years after his move, the mother had a strong manifestation of a long-disturbing neurosis. The business was eventually taken from her by her own colleagues, leaving Lana bankrupt. At the time of the ruin, Ophelia was nineteen, Roman was twenty-seven. As soon as he learned about the changes that had taken place, he immediately appeared in Whitehorse, finding his sister a drug addict indifferent to the life of his mother, and Lana herself - a regular "client" of the local neuropsychiatric hospital. Taking his mother with him, Roman sent Ophelia to hell and did not want to see her again. Subsequently, he came to his sister twice - when she was left alone after giving birth, and on Thomas's third birthday, around Christmas.

- Let's go. Ophelia took her dressed-up son by the hand and led him to the exit. - If it's cold on the plane, ask your uncle for a blanket - I put it in your backpack.

Tom silently nodded, staring at his mother with attentive eyes. Only in his memories did he realize that at that moment his mother was very nervous.

Out on the porch, they found themselves under a rainy September evening.

“Boy, go run to the car,” Roman said supporting Tom. This door is very heavy, only adults can open it. Come on, try it.

Putting his hand on the car, the boy began to pull the door handle. She gave in, and squeezing into the gap, the boy opened it completely and climbed into the front seat.

– Maybe…

– It’s okay, Roman interrupted his sister. - I'm careful.

Closing the door behind his nephew, he left himself alone with his sister. The rain intensified, and Ophelia's hair quickly sagged under the weight of the water. She was silent for a long time, leaning her hand against the car window and peering, watching Tom. He, in turn, looked at his mother.

Roman silently watched this with a quiet pause. Then, still taking pity on his sister, he began:

- I think we will succeed. - He broke off. - Umm.. I'm sure we'll succeed.

“I think so too,” Ophelia said, tilting her head to the glass.

- This is cruel, I understand, but you said yourself that you want to save him. That's... very responsible, I'm actually impressed by your determination.

Ophelia remained silent with her eyes closed.

– Of course, we are a little late about school, but don't worry, I'll think of something. Although this adult guy hardly needed the first of September. Roman paused again. You know, he's special. Of course, I'm not a kid, but Tom .. he impressed me. He is not like other children.

The rain had already soaked them both through, forcing them to hurry up with farewell, but they stood silent.

Ofelia finally looked up from the glass, waved goodbye to Tom, turned to the house, and, despite her brother, threw out a quick "Thank you."

Roman silently followed her with his eyes, and even when the door of the house closed, he still looked in this direction. The farewell was harder than he expected.

- Well, boy, you and I have one more unfinished business, - Roma said, quickly jumping into the driver's seat, - we will not go to the airport right away, but I assure you, tomorrow we will already be at my house. Now we will go to the hotel, where we will spend the night, and in the morning we will fly to America. How do you like this plan?

In communication with the child, this person completely changed. He clumsily managed to stop his own rudeness, become friendlier and choose understandable words.

On the whole, Tom was unusually indifferent to what lay ahead of him. For some reason, he quickly got used to Roman, lost interest in the upcoming separation from his mother, explaining this in her own words - “mother works”. He sat silently, his eyes fixed on the windshield.

"I don't care," he said wistfully.

Roman put his arm around the boy's shoulders:

– Don't worry, you'll see each other soon. I am very sorry that it happened, but this is life - you should not stop, you need to live on. Look, I promise you, we'll be good friends.

He had an unusually beautiful smile, and Tom, looking into his deep eyes, smiled involuntarily in response.

- I will teach you to hunt, fish, play musical instruments, we will read the best books with you, build huts and tree houses, bake pizza, roast bread over a fire. We will do so much with you! The main condition is not to be sad, because I don't like it when my nephew is sad, I start to be sad myself, and then I become sad like a panda. Indeed, his uncle was funny in portraying a sad panda.

- But pandas are big and strong.

- So what? Yes, of course, it's good to be big and strong, but pandas only eat bamboo! Yes, dry, damn it, bamboo, and nothing more! I don't want that, I want meat, potatoes, pizza after all! I'd like to be... damn... who would I want to be? What animal laughs?

He twisted his puzzled face again, ringing laughter was heard in the car again.

- Elephants maybe?

- Elephants? Hmm, that’s right, they’re laughing like that,” and Roman made a sound that partly resembled an elephant’s roar. - I would also have a trunk, such a long, long nose, like theirs, I would steer with it!

Thomas laughed so hard that tears came out of his eyes.

Roman felt small and carefree again next to this child. It was an unusual feeling. He realized that he was again behaving like a petty mischief-maker when he tried to make his nephew laugh. Priceless feeling.

After reaching Baker Avenue, they went to a small cafe where they bought a couple of large hot dogs.

“Hey, you got more sausage,” Roman frowned, pointing to his own bun. - Let's change?

- Nope, - Thomas was sarcastic.

They were driving through the city, and Thomas's interest in what was happening had long been freed up due to such a large number of interesting phenomena for the child's eyes. Cars, traffic lights, burning windows in large houses, different people on the sidewalks. An endless stream of questions poured into Roman's ears, to which he himself tried to give the most understandable answer for the child. Finally, the trip ended when my uncle pulled the car to a stop in front of a tall, beautiful building with a large clock on the top floors

“Wow,” Tom drawled as he looked around the hotel.

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