Kindness and generosity. Part one.

The first silence enveloped them and now, they had no way back. Their friendship grew stronger and weaker. And none of them knew what to do next. And only when a small, green bird flew past their window and shared with its song, Adelard said, "I love her, but I don't know anything about her. But just the thought that she lives in this city makes me too happy. So my life makes sense. And I don't think I need to leave. I can't leave her."

"Is this your first love?" Arthur asked and got up from his chair. Now, he began to pace the room back and forth, as if he had to solve a difficult problem and at the same time condemn the man in love.

The sparkle in Adelard's eyes was brighter than the sun's rays. And this foreshadowed only one thing, namely, hope.

He answered bluntly and clearly, "Yes."

"You're just impossible."

"Why?"

"You've never been in love."

"Do you think this is weird?"

"No. Simple, although yes, it's very strange."

"So you can tell Suzanne I'm not going anywhere."

"What? Well, yes. Of course. I knew you weren't coming." Still thinking about something, Arthur said with a smile, "Thank you for your time. I think it's time for me to leave."

"You're coming for dinner, right?"

"Yes, of course. So I have to go. I need to buy a new suit for such an important day. I can't appear in your house in these clothes that smell like train and road."

“I smell of soap and fat, but you smell of the world,” Adelard whispered thoughtfully, leaving his words out of Arthur's ears.

"See you tonight."

"Until the evening."

Through fatigue and headache, Adelard slowly began to fall asleep right on the table, surrounded by papers with numbers. And the right hand lightly touched the square soap in the perfect golden color package. It seemed like it was real gold.

The dream lasted only a few minutes and when he opened his eyes in horror, he saw the gazes in front of him.

All his family members, who left him, looked at him with a smile. And only the photograph of his father did not smile. And only his father looked at him slightly viciously.

Closing his eyes, he laid his head on the table and whispered, "I need to see a doctor."

Turning on the desk lamp, he glanced at the clock and then at the stack of papers.

For the first time, he thought about what he wants in this life. And for the first time, he envisioned a completely different life. But these performances disappeared the moment his secretary entered the office.

In a dark red suit, the young man Theo said, "Monsieur, you have to go home. I'll do anything."

"Yes. I'm leaving now."

"What?"

He stood up lazily and smiled through his headache.

Clutching his jacket, he said, "Thanks for today."

"Are you all right, monsieur?" Theo asked fearfully.

"Yes, of course."

In the dark corners of the small town, where the rats built their kingdom, covering himself from the raindrops, the young guy slowly walked forward. His face was contorted with wounds and there was anger in his gaze that could destroy everything around him.

Breathing heavily, he felt nothing but a terrible hunger, which had managed to form a hole in his stomach. Spasms and nervous tremors of his arms and legs made him growl slightly, as if he was a wild animal.

And when the pain all over his body became unbearable, he stopped in front of a brick wall, which was soaked in blood and something else. Hearing his heart beating, he covered his ears with his hands and, opening his mouth, made a strange sound. He had run out of tears a long time ago. He will never be able to cry and laugh again either. He knew that this world had turned him into a walking dead man. And no one could save him anymore.

Accepting his fate, he sat right down on the ground, on the dirty asphalt and surprising the rats, he laid his head on the broken brick. Looking at a row of beautiful houses, which seemed to him something fabulous and magical, he also wanted to remember good times from his life, but nothing came to his mind.

Feeling the soft touch of a rat on his cheeks, he closed his eyes and felt his soul surrender. He could feel the lightness of his body and, most importantly, that he no longer experienced terrible pain.

Slowly but surely, closing his eyes, he held his breath and knew that these were the last moments of his life. It was all over.

Quick steps that beat out a certain rhythm brought him back to his senses. And at the same time the pain and disappointment returned to his soul again.

He was ready for the next blows of fate, because he knew that whoever goes in his direction will certainly hurt him.

Two huge eyes, surrounded by white, which was more visible than the black color of the iris, looked at the legs, which walked like this someone was dancing.

And when the black, sparkling shoes stopped right in front of his face, he closed his eyes and was ready for the most terrible pain.

"Are you okay?"

Yes, it was the softest, most affectionate voice he had ever heard. And hearing this voice, he thought that he had already died. Therefore, he continued to lie with his eyes closed.

"Do you need help?" the voice asked again and this time, the young man realized that he was not dead.

Carefully raising his head and seeing in front of him a bright face surrounded by kindness and mercy, the unfortunate young man wanted to answer, but could not say anything. All he could do was just look up at a face that looked a little scared.

Adelard, bending over to the suffering person, with a smooth movement of his hand drove away the rats, and said, "Are you feeling bad? Do you want to eat?"

All the poor young man was thinking about was hunger.

"Get up. It's dirty and damp in here. Come on," Adelard said, helping him to his feet.

Life seemed to him not so terrible, and feeling strong hands on his back, the young man knew that the man who lifted him to his feet was his savior.

He did not have the strength to look at Adelard, who continued to hold him by the hand. He walked and looked only at the sparkling shoes, which suddenly stopped in front of the beautiful carriage.

"Monsieur, who is this?" an elderly voice was heard.

"He needs help. Help me."

"Monsieur, are you sure you want to let him into the house?"

"Just help me."

And when he found himself in the carriage, on a soft seat, surrounded by wealth and various aromas, the unfortunate young man was able to lift his eyes and look into the face of his savior.

Adelard, looking at him with a smile and excitement, said, "My name is Adelard."

The young man was not immediately able to collect his thoughts and say his name. He was lost and did not know what was happening to him. After all, until now, he thought that he has died. And now he is heading somewhere where his suffering will end.

"Are you hurt?" Adelard asked, noticing the blood on his hands and face.

And only now the young man was able to answer, "My name is Gaspard."

Hearing the pain in his trembling voice, Adelard whispered, "Be quiet. Don't say anything."

Unable to breathe, think, look, a young man named Gaspard simply fell headfirst, face down on Adelard's shoes.

"Hurry! Francois!" Adelard shouted to the coachman and the snow-white horses quickened their pace.

Warmth and silence were a strong power that could bring a person back to consciousness. Having covered a short distance from the kingdom of rats to the most beautiful place where only angels could dwell, Gaspard opened his eyes and saw a kind old face in front of him.

"I think he'll be fine," Nicholas said, placing his too warm hand on his forehead.

"André, please bring something to eat. No, you need milk first. Right, a warm glass of milk."

André silently returned to the kitchen and reached for a carafe of milk. André has been working in this house as a chef for many years, from the moment Adelard became a young man. And before that, his father worked in this house, while he studied culinary masterpieces. And now, over the years, he has witnessed kindness and understanding. And every time Adelard brought with him a needy vagrant, he silently walked into the kitchen and warmed milk. Each time, he experienced one thing - anxiety. After all, some of these unfortunate people, sometimes, took valuable things with them and left the young Monsieur in slight bewilderment.

"Who is he? Where did you find him?" Nicholas asked, looking at the boy who looked too sick.

"He was lying under a bridge. Surrounded by rats. Look at his wounds. If you don't mind, maybe you can call the doctor?"

"You think this is a good idea? Do you remember what happened when you brought that old man home? He stole your father's portrait and some more of your jewelry."

"I couldn't just leave him. What if he died? Nicholas, please call Monsieur Fabian."

With horror on his face, Nicholas left Adelard, with the stranger alone, in a room where there was only one bed.

“You saved me. You saved me,” Gaspard said with difficulty. Grasping Adelard's hand, he squeezed his hand and kept repeating the same thing over and over.

"Calm down. The doctor is coming soon."

“Adelard, here's the milk,” André said, holding out the glass. “You can't leave him for the night. You know what can happen,” he whispered, looking at the boy in dismay.

"I couldn't pass by."

"Don't you understand anything?"

“André, you can go,” Adelard said, slightly nervously.