The Second Crown

CHAPTER 1. GRANDPA’S STORY

CHAPTER 1. GRANDPA’S STORY

A scorching summer in a small village seemed tailor-made for children’s games and adventures. Early every morning, Alex—a skinny boy with tousled, light-blond hair—would dash out through the gate to meet a whole g**g of neighborhood kids. Their close-knit group—Michael, Sam, Emily, and Mary—roamed noisily around the area, all waiting for Alex to show up so the day’s wild escapades could begin.

Their first stop was an abandoned playground. On a narrow strip of asphalt, they played a makeshift game of “tag-on-the-paths,” where everyone had to run without stepping off the asphalt while dodging the person who was “it.” Alex was a born sprinter: he could change direction in a flash and vanish before his pursuer had time to blink. Sam would grumble incessantly, “It’s impossible to catch him!” while Mary, riding up on her bicycle, smiled in admiration as she tried to tag Alex herself.

This summer felt different to Alex. He was now nine and had noticed he could sometimes guess his friends’ moves before they made them. Something in his mind would nudge him about where Michael would run or how Emily might swing her arm. He tried to keep this uncanny awareness hidden—he didn’t want to stand out—but he could tell something unusual was going on inside him.

By midday, when the sun was high, the children would seek out shade. Alex would perch on a rickety bench, listening to the pounding of his heart. His parents had left for another city on business, leaving him to spend the summer with his grandparents—a freedom city kids rarely tasted. In the village, you could run around barefoot all day without strict rules.

Then the day brought new diversions: a game near the well, where Michael dreamed of becoming a star baseball player, Sam bragged about his karate, and Emily talked of traveling the world. Alex, meanwhile, steered every conversation toward the stars. He loved science programs and his grandfather’s magazines and could chat about red giants and Alpha Centauri. His friends teased him: “Our cosmonaut hasn’t even seen America yet, but he’s already reaching for the stars!” Yet despite the friendly ribbing, they listened with genuine curiosity.

Mary in particular would stay close when Alex gazed at the sky. With a sly grin, she would ask,“Okay, so how long would it take to get to your galaxies?”Alex would quote some astronomical figure, only making her smile widen. Sometimes Emily would interject,“Sam, bring our dreamer back down to Earth! He’s flown clean into space again!”But Sam would just wave a hand, knowing full well that Alex wasn’t merely a fantasist but a bright and capable boy.

By noon, when the heat became truly oppressive, they switched to a game they called “Card Suits.” Imagining four sectors on the ground—spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs—they would flick a stick forward with their toes and try to sprint away before the “guard” caught them with that same stick. Silly as it was, the game was thrilling. Alex won often, guessing exactly where the stick would land, but he tried hard not to look too skilled.

When Alex “tripped” yet again, sending the others into fits of laughter, Mary shook her head.“Is our genius deciding to go easy on us now?”He waved her off playfully.“My satellites must be out of alignment!”They all burst out laughing, but someone pointed out that no one had seen Alex’s grandfather for a while. Before they could finish talking, a raspy call echoed from the direction of the house. Alex felt a small jolt of nerves—Grandpa rarely called him away in the middle of a game for no reason.“Be right back!” he shouted to his friends, then darted toward the house.

Frank stood on the porch, clutching an old felt hat in one hand. Alex noticed a warm glow in his grandfather’s eyes—and something deeper lurking underneath. He trotted over, still panting from the run.“Come on,” Grandpa said simply, nodding toward the door.

Inside, it smelled of freshly baked bread and wood. In the dimly lit living room, a kerosene lamp flickered faintly. Alex sat down on a creaky chair, watching Grandpa set the hat on the table’s edge, looking thoughtful.“Remember how I told you, ‘There’s something special about our family that mustn’t be forgotten’?” the old man asked quietly.Alex nodded, his heart skipping a beat. He knew that, like his grandfather, he had two cowlicks, but he couldn’t imagine what was so serious about that.“There’s something you need to understand about yourself,” Grandpa went on. “Pay attention to what you’re capable of. It may be more important than you realize.”

Saying this, Grandpa fell silent and turned away, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say more. Alex felt a tingling anxiety, suspecting it had to do with his father. He asked, “When are you going to tell me about my dad?”“Oh, your father…” Grandpa lapsed into silence again. “We’ll talk about it later,” he finally said.“All right, whatever you say,” Alex replied, stepping back onto the porch. A cool breeze hit his face, and he wondered, Why all the secrecy?

At sunset, the sky glowed with pink and orange hues. Alex wanted to return to the g**g but felt a strange weariness. Just then Mary appeared around the corner of the house with her bicycle.“Hey, where’d you run off to? We’ve been waiting forever!” she called out.Alex smiled apologetically. “Grandpa wanted to talk… We had a bit of a conversation. But I think it’s too late to run around now—and my head’s spinning.”Mary frowned but didn’t pry. In the village, everyone knew Alex’s grandfather had his share of secrets.

They ate dinner quietly in the cozy kitchen. Grandma ladled out soup, watching her grandson with kind concern. Grandpa occasionally gave Alex a thoughtful glance, as if wondering whether he had any questions yet. But the boy couldn’t work up the courage to ask. After dinner, he slipped into the yard, where twilight had already settled, and absently dipped his hands into the well water.

Suddenly, there was a rustling beyond the fence. It turned out to be Emily, searching for a runaway chicken.“Hey, cosmonaut,” she teased, “practicing for finding alien life?”“No, I was just about to go to bed,” Alex admitted with a lopsided smile.She shrugged and disappeared, leaving him feeling that everyone else was going about an ordinary life—everyone but him. Heading back to the house, Alex noticed his grandfather watching him from the porch, as if silently warning him not to rush into his questions. The boy just smiled and went to set up his bed in the living room, sensing something both immense and fragile lingering in the family’s past.

That night, Alex lay awake for a long time. The clock ticked; Grandma quietly rattled dishes; Grandpa shuffled across the floor, coughing softly through the wall. Alex kept expecting Grandpa to call him again, but the house gradually stilled, and sleep finally took him.

In his dream, Alex stood by a tall building in the middle of an endless field, everything around him blanketed in white, as if dusted with snow. In the distance, he could see a figure—a fair-haired, stately man. Alex felt certain it was his father. He wanted to call out, but no words came; his feet felt rooted to the ground. No voice could be heard, only a silent gesture: Follow me…

Waking in the early morning, Alex felt his heart pounding. Dreams of his father brought both a deep longing and a persistent curiosity. All he knew was that his father had “gone away,” but the adults never went into detail. At dawn, Alex stepped out onto the porch and sat on the wooden step, wrapping his arms around his knees. One day, I’ll ask Grandpa directly, he thought.

Grandma came out to fetch water, gently patted her grandson’s head, and said nothing. That was how things were in their household: the most important matters were only hinted at, as though everyone was afraid of stirring up an old wound.

Day arrived. Grandma was kneading dough for flatbreads, Grandpa was busy with his tools, and Alex decided to look for his friends. Sam and Michael were setting up an “obstacle course” with boards and crates, competing to see who could get through fastest. Spotting Alex, they cheered up immediately.

“Here’s our champion! C’mon, Alex, show us what you’ve got!”

He laughed and helped them haul the boards around. Soon Emily showed up—she was usually tasked with the riskiest challenges—and a bit later Mary arrived, smiling at Alex again. He caught her gaze, and a warm feeling stirred inside him. He wanted to forget Grandpa’s riddles and just have fun, but thoughts of his family still lingered.

When Alex remembered he had promised to help Grandpa fix the gate, he headed home. Grandpa was already fitting a new hinge. Seeing his grandson, he quietly asked,“Help me out, Alex? Hand me that can of nails.”

While Grandpa hammered away, an unspoken question hung between them. Alex wanted to ask about his father again but didn’t dare, and the old man wasn’t in a hurry to speak either. When the work was done, Grandpa straightened up, wiped his brow, and said,“We all carry secrets within us. If you handle them wisely, there’s nothing to fear. In time, everything falls into place.”

His words sounded reassuring, and Alex smiled. Noticing his grandson eyeing his hat, Grandpa tipped its brim playfully and let out a friendly little chuckle, then went off in silence to wash his hands.

“Come eat lunch!” came the ringing voice of Lucy—Alex’s grandmother.

After lunch, Alex headed to the river with the others, who were planning to swim. The water was cool and gentle, and invisible birdsong echoed from the banks. Michael, Sam, and Emily splashed around, flicking droplets at each other, while Mary carefully waded in, smiling at Alex. He dove under, savoring the sense of weightlessness and a brief oblivion. Yet a thought about Grandpa’s words still flickered in the back of his mind.

As they were about to leave, Mary asked quietly,“You seem a bit lost in thought today. Everything all right?”

Alex nodded with a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” although he knew “fine” wasn’t the exact word for how he felt. But in the company of children, it was easy to hide his worries behind laughter and games.

The day was winding down by sunset. Sunbeams slid toward the horizon, painting the sky above the village house in coppery hues. Barefoot, covered in dust and dandelion fluff, Alex dashed around the yard—until Grandpa called him again.

The old man was standing by the crooked railing, turning his hat in his hands. His face looked rigid, as though carved from wood, but kindness shone in his eyes. Alex ran over, holding his breath—what was it this time?

“Two crowns…” Grandpa began quietly. “Be careful with ‘the system.’ If someone like us—someone with two crowns—sets out to do something big, they might face strong resistance.” He touched his grandson’s hair. “When you’re older, you’ll understand what makes you special. But take care—things aren’t that simple, my boy.”

His tone carried no threats, yet Alex felt a chill inside. He wanted to ask exactly what he should be wary of, but Grandpa only sighed.“You’ll understand yourself when the time comes.”

With that, he gently tapped the back of Alex’s head, as if to reassure him. A swirl of emotions rose in the boy—trust and an unsteady sense of unease. Grandpa said nothing else, only grumbled softly:

“Come on, your grandma’s calling us to dinner.”

Inside, the air was thick with the aroma of dill soup and fresh pies. At the table, Alex kept casting questioning glances at Grandpa, but the old man ate in silence. Grandma glanced at them both with faint concern, sensing there was a topic hanging in the air that no one dared speak aloud—but she was generally quiet, busy with her tasks, emanating a warmth and care that was hard to miss.

When dinner was over, Alex stepped back onto the porch and gazed at the evening sky for a long while. His mind was crowded with questions: Why did Grandpa talk about a second crown? What did it have to do with his father? Deep inside, Alex had a feeling that this “gift” would either help him one day or become a heavy burden. But for now, there were far more questions than answers.

Night fell, and Alex lay down on the couch in the living room. The lamp in there had burned out long ago, and according to Grandpa, it wasn’t easy to buy a new one—he hated going into town. In the other rooms, only kerosene lamps and candles glimmered, their dancing shadows lending an even greater sense of mystery.

He listened to the floorboards creak under Grandpa’s steps in the next room and the muffled sounds of Grandma settling in for the night. Outside, the village night had its own life: maybe foxes were crying somewhere, or maybe it was something else entirely. Sometimes Alex imagined it was the voices of forest spirits. Grandpa’s words about the two crowns kept turning over in his mind.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sleep, but the image of Grandpa touching his hair rose behind his eyelids—both frightening and strangely magnetic. Alex pictured how, in ages past, people with two crowns might have seen the invisible or foretold the future. But perhaps it was all just his imagination.

About thirty minutes later, the boy dozed off. He dreamed he was sitting under a huge tree while his grandfather stood nearby, saying, “You have a second crown because…”—but then a gust of wind swept in, drowning out the words. A whistling sound arose all around, turning into a steady roar, and Alex woke in a cold sweat. He glanced around the dark room, where the faint glow of a lamp and a soft smell of smoke came from the kitchen. Everything seemed normal, yet the dream left him with a lingering unease. He lay back down, thinking, “It seems there really is something unusual about me,” before drifting off again.

Morning light burst into the living room through the curtains, and Alex stretched, feeling rested. Out in the yard, his grandfather was busy with tools, apparently repairing the shed. The boy washed his face with well water and breathed in the scent of early day: slightly damp grass, the warmth of wood, and the freshness of the wind.

“Good morning,” the boy greeted him.

The old man nodded without turning around. A shadow flickered across the field—maybe a squirrel, maybe a hare. They stood there in silence together, a silence that held something unspoken yet important. At last, the grandfather said quietly:

“They’ll be here today.”

Alex understood: his parents were coming to take him back to the city. His heart sank with disappointment—he’d have to leave without learning everything he wanted to know. Sensing his unease, the grandfather added:

“Come again. This is your home. And don’t go blabbing about what I told you—not everyone will understand.”

Alex nodded. “Of course.”

By noon, his parents’ old car appeared on the dusty road. Grandmother wiped her hands on her apron; Grandfather adjusted his hat. Alex stood there with his backpack, torn between the joy of seeing his family and the sadness of leaving so suddenly.

His mother rushed over to hug him, peppering him with questions. His stepfather pulled out gifts for the old folks. Alex tried to smile, but he could feel he was no longer the same boy who had arrived at the start of summer.

“Come on, hop in,” his parents urged. “We want to make good time before dark.”

Alex looked back at his grandfather, who stood by the gate. In Frank’s eyes, he could see both concern and a gentle pride. The boy ran over and pressed himself against his grandfather, taking in the smell of tobacco and hay.

The old man said hoarsely, “Hang in there in the city. And remember our talks. The door here is always open.”

Alex nodded, barely holding back the lump in his throat. His grandmother stroked his hair and whispered for him to come back soon. The car started moving, gravel crunching under the wheels. Alex managed one last backward glance: his grandfather stood motionless, watching them go with a long, silent gaze that seemed to say, “Your journey begins…”

As the car picked up speed, the farmhouse shrank into a tiny speck among the fields. Alex pressed his forehead to the window, watching the grasses sway. He now knew something most people never even suspect. The thought of his “two crowns” was lodged firmly in his soul, like a seed waiting to sprout. When the road turned and the house finally vanished from view, the boy felt a quiet certainty that he would return, to learn all he hadn’t had time to ask. And from that moment on, the world would never be the same for him.