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What was it? Sleep, wake, wraith? Yes, do not care! Oksanka! Go to her, knock on the window, even a word to hear, even look in the eyes.
Hastily he fumbled his pants, lying on the floor, tangling in his trouser legs and sleeves, pulled on jeans and a shirt, and rushed to the door.
Op-pa.

Grandma, as if she hadn’t been asleep before midnight, was busy in the kitchen, cutting off the way to an inconspicuous exit.
– Going to her? – Glancing at

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her grandson, she asked.
– To her.
– stubbornly jerked his chin Dimon.
He rightly expected discontent, prohibitions, even swearing in his address and was not going to give up.
It will leave anyway, no one will keep him, but grandma suddenly nodded calmly.
– Go.
Wait just a bit.
The teapot is about to boil, I will water the broth on the walkway.
And then the nights are already cold steel, do not get cold b you.
Waiting for much more serious problems, Dimka, without arguing, sank into a chair.
Better to wait fifteen minutes than.
Grandmother cleverly scurried about the kitchen, mixing at the bottom of a large tea glass of the slave contents of a different type of jars with her alone.
The boiling water poured, the fresh, slightly harsh aroma of unfamiliar herbs swam across the kitchen.
– Done, granddaughters.
Hold on
Dimka did not hesitate to grab onto the handle of an old silver cup holder, hastily drank and burned himself.

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– Do not rush.
Until the morning a lot.
– Grandma without a smile looked at Dimona.
– It is necessary to slowly drink.
Otherwise there will be no sense.
Nodding, Dimka slowly began to sip hot drink.
The taste was unusual, but not nasty, but the body was really poured on affectionate and some sort of calming warmth.
It calmed down in a strange way, pushed aside the exhausting tread of the last days, and it seemed already normal not to run somewhere it was not known why, but just lie down and forget, give at least a few hours rest to the exhausted nerves.
Dimon threw his eyes on a grandmother, who had been filled with a sudden guess.
– blunt the awl in the ass? – She smiled a little.
– Well, sort of.
– Dimon shrugged.
– It’s a decoction, huh? So that’s right, mother talked about you? Sorceress are you? – No, Dimushka.
– Grandma shook her head.
– In herbs I understand – this is true.
In other people, I feel the real power.
I know how to use it.
I know a lot.
But I myself can not.
My mother could, yes.
And with me a sorceress, as from a child’s shovel scoop.
They seem to be similar, but how many do you like with a scoop? So am I: make weeds, whisper something a little.
And so seriously – no.
– It’s a pity.
– Sadly smiled Dimon.
– Would help me to return Oksanku.
– You need help in another now.
– Seriously looked at him grandmother.
“Give me your pot, see what the blades of grass will show.”
– On, finish drinking.
– Grandma, turning the glass in front of her eyes, set it in front of Dimka.
– That’s because.
And not prisushivala anything, but as holds! – What about? – I did not understand Dimon.
“You have to leave, boy, that’s what.”
– sigh grandmother.
– Well, do not wait here.
She doesn’t need you.
At home you will feel better.
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