Marija i Slavuj Putovanje po mjesečini *** Marija and the Nightingale A Moonlight Journey Napisala / Written by Angela J. Kecojevic Ilustrovala / Illustrated by Natasha Hutchinson
Acknowledgements Writing this book for the Marija Kotri Foundation has been a very special moment in my life. Creating a story that would incorporate the essence of Marija: her dreams, her style – everything that made her so beautiful, was an unforgettable experience. I am honoured that the Foundation asked me to write this book. This could not have been done without the support from my amazing family and friends, whom I thank from the bottom of my heart. Special thanks must go the following: my husband Alex – for reading and translating the many questions that flipped between the Kotri family and myself! Your patience was A star! To my children, who played with Marija growing up – thank you for your support and for reading, especially Anouska. Thank you for your creative guidance! To the fantastic Sam Pope and Kersti Wolsey for their editorial guidance, and for making sure those commas landed in the right place! Couldn’t have done it without you! To the staff at d’Overbroecks College (especially Wendy, Helen and Jane) for their support with this project. Marija always dreamt of visiting Oxford, and I know she would have loved this choice. And of course, a very special mention must go to Natasha Hutchinson, our super-talented illustrator. Finding an artist who could take the manuscript and bring the ideas and scenes to life was no easy challenge. Natasha is only thirteen years old, yet her talent is exceptional. She took on board the suggestions of the school art team, worked through school art lessons, and produced illustrations Marija would have adored. We are all very proud of her! Here are a few words from our amazing illustrator… ‘Hello. My name is Natasha Hutchinson, a Year 9 student at d’Overbroeck’s, and I illustrated this incredible book. When I got asked to do this project I was thrilled but didn’t know what to expect, but now I know this was an amazing experience and one I will never forget. I could never have even dreamed of my drawings being in a real life book! This was quite different from what I was used to doing, but I loved the challenge of creating
Riječ autora Pisanje ove knjige za Fondaciju Marija Kotri predstavlja poseban trenutak u mom životu. Stvaranje priče o nesvakidašnjoj ljepoti Marijinog bića bilo je nezaboravno iskustvo. Bila sam počastvovana kada me je Fondacija pozvala da napišem ovu knjigu, a ona ne bi mogla nastati bez pomoći Marijine porodice i njihovih prijatelja, kojima se zahvaljujem iz dubine srca. Posebnu zahvalnost dugujem mom suprugu Aleksi koji je čitao i prevodio mnoga pitanja koja su se otvarala između porodice Kotri i mene – njegovo strpljenje je jedinstveno! Zahvalnost dugujem i mojoj djeci, koja su se igrala sa Marijom dok su odrastala, a posebno Anuški – hvala vam na podršci i iščitavanju priče. Hvala vam na kreativnim savjetima! Zahvaljujem se i Sam Poeu i Kersti Wolsey na uredničkim sugestijama i što su se potrudili da se svi oni zarezi nađu na pravom mjestu! Ne bih mogla uraditi ovo bez njih! Hvala i osoblju d’Overbroecks koledža (posebno Vendi, Helen i Džejn) na podršci – Marija je uvijek maštala o posjeti Oksfordu i znam da bi joj se dopao ovaj izbor. I, naravno, posebno moram pomenuti Natashu Hutchinson, našu talentovanu ilustratorku. Veliki je izazov bio pronaći umjetnika koji će prihvatiti rukopis i oživjeti ideje i scene iz njega. Nataša ima samo trinaest godina, ali njen talenat je izvanredan. Ona je uvažila sugestije njene umjetničke grupe, pohađajući nastavu umjetnosti u školi, i zaista stvorila ilustracije koje bi Marija obožavala. Svi smo ponosni na nju! Navodim i nekoliko rečenica naše zadivljujuće ilustratorke: Zdravo. Zovem se Nataša Hatčinson. Učenik sam devetog razreda u školi d’Overbreks i ilustrovala sam ovu nevjerovatnu knjigu. Kada su me pozvali da učestvujem u ovom projektu, bila sam uzbuđena i nijesam znala šta da očekujem, ali sada znam da je ovo jedno izvanredno iskustvo koje nikada neću zaboraviti. Nijesam ni sanjala da će moji crteži postati dio stvarne knjige! Ovo se razlikovalo od svega što sam do tada radila, ali bio je izazov da stvorim
and drawing up the incredible images of this story and it has inspired me into what I can create now.’ I hope this story brings happiness and fond memories to all those who knew Marija. She was a shining, talented star who touched the lives of all of those she met. She will be forever missed, forever in our hearts. Angela J. Kecojevic
i iscrtam slike iz ove nevjerovatne priče, a ona me je i inspirisala da stvaram nove radove. Nadam se da će ova priča donijeti sreću i draga sjećanja svima onima koji su poznavali Mariju. Ona je bila blistava zvijezda čiji je sjaj osvijetlio život svih onih koje je poznavala. Nedostaje..., i zauvijek će nedostajati... Zauvijek će živjeti u našim srcima. Anđela Dž. Kecojević
Marija – forever beautiful, forever in our hearts.
Marija – vječno lijepa, vječno u našim srcima.
10 The river runs wild; raindrops fall in a whisper. The Nightingale swoops over mountains and lakes As free as the wind, as light as first snow – With hope for forever, a song for the world. The city lights up like a firefly ball; Turrets and chimneys rise high in the sky, Mighty glass buildings, narrow streets full of chatter. Sing, little bird, sing the Forever song. Loving, tender, happy, and free The Nightingale sends down his sweet, golden trill A song rich with hope A song full of joy Sing to us forever – the Forever song.
11 Rijeka divlje teče; kišne kapi utapaju se uz šapat. Slavuj nadlijeće preko planina i jezera, slobodan poput vjetra, lagan poput prvog snijega – s nadom za vječno, s pjesmom za svijet. Grad počinje da svjetluca kao žarulja svica. Kule i dimnjaci dižu se ka nebu. Moćna staklena zdanja, uske uličice pune žamora… Pjevaj, ptico mala, pjevaj Vječnu pjesmu. Mio, nježan, srećan i slobodan, slavuj zemlji šalje svoje slatko zlatno ushićenje – pjesmu punu nade, pjesmu punu radosti… Pjevaj nam zauvijek – Vječnu pjesmu.
12 Chapter I Discovery Soft brown feathers shifted in the undergrowth. The Nightingale tried to fly but couldn’t lift his wings. The eagle had come from nowhere, slamming into him like a blazing torpedo. The monstrous shadow had risen above him and plucked him from the sky. The Nightingale shivered. If only he could fly. Nothing mattered more than the thrill of the wind as it whooshed beneath his wings and lifted him up into the air. He loved to skim over the mountain tops, then swoop down low and dip his wings into the icy streams that ran from North to South. Salmon would flip their plump bodies high above the water as he raced alongside them. He had been happy. Carefree. Living. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The Nightingale pressed closer into the undergrowth. Was the eagle back, ready for another attack? He tried again to lift his wings, wincing as pain struck the underside of his feathers. It was impossible to move. If only he could find somewhere warm where he could dig out a morsel of food to rebuild his strength. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The ground trembled; the Nightingale shifted deeper into the bush. It wasn’t the gentle press of fox paws sleeking through the woodland. Nor was it the swoop of an owl, hungry for a snack. This was a thud and a giggle, not a whoop and attack. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The Nightingale tilted his head curiously. These were the sounds of heavy winter boots running through the park.
13 Prvo poglavlje Otkriće Mekana kafenkasta pera obrušila su se u šiblje. Slavuj je pokušao da poleti, ali nije mogao. Orao se pojavio niotkud, nasrćući poput užarenog torpeda: bolan, smrtonosan i munjevit. Grozna se sjenka nadvila nad slavujem i strgnula ga s neba. Zadrhtao je. Kada bi samo mogao da leti. Jedino što je želio bilo je da kroz svoja krila osjeti šum vjetra koji bi ga digao u nebo. Volio je da jedri nad planinskim vrhovima, a onda da okomito zaroni i utopi krila u ledene potoke koji su sa sjevera tekli prema jugu. Lososi bi se bacali iznad vode i uvijali svoja punačka tijela dok bi on jurio kraj njih. Bio je srećan. Bezbrižan. Živ. Tup. Tup. Tup. Slavuj se zavukao dublje u žbun. Da li se to orao vratio, spreman za drugi napad? Pokušao je još jednom da podigne krila, ali se trgnuo od oštrog bola. Bilo je nemoguće pomjeriti se. Kada bi samo bio na nekom toplom mjestu, na kojem bi mogao da pronađe zalogaj hrane i povrati snagu. Tup. Tup. Tup. Tlo je podrhtavalo, i slavuj se zavuče dublje u žbun. Nije to bio onaj nježni pritisak lisičijih šapa što se prikradaju kroz šumu, niti je to bilo kidisanje sove, gladne sitnog zalogaja. To je bilo neko zapljuskivanje, prskanje, a ne poklič i napad. Tup. Tup. Tup. Slavuj je radoznalo osluškivao. Čuo je zvuk teških zimskih čizama koje su jurišale parkom.
14 The sound of fun and happiness, not of hunting. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. It was a family: a mum, a dad, and two young children, enjoying an afternoon in the sunshine. The Nightingale opened his beak to sing. If they could hear him, then maybe they could help. He tried to push out a golden note, but there was nothing. He closed his eyes and imagined he could fly again. He imagined the smell of the wind: of pine trees and winter leaves drifting in the cool air. He imagined the taste of dark, juicy berries sliding down his parched throat, and the sweet, golden nectar from the honeysuckle flower. But nothing helped. There was only silence. The little bird sighed. His voice was gone. He sank back into the bracken to save his energy. Maybe the sun would come out and warm his feathers. How he would love its brilliant rays to bury deep into his wings. It had been a cold few months, one of the coldest winters the people of Nikšić had ever recalled. The wind had cast a sharp nip, far worse than anyone had expected. The surrounding black mountains had been covered with a blanket of snow. Red-roofed houses glimmered with white sparkles, turning the town into a city of ice. Then came the rain, turning the winter wonderland into slush and chaos. The villagers had pulled together, clearing the roads, and feeding the cattle – making sure everyone was looked after. Wood was chopped, and furnaces fired; cooking pots simmered with hot, bubbling stews; families joined together, something the people of Nikšić did best. Finally, the ice city had begun to thaw. The sun challenged the snow and won, giving the children of Nikšić a chance to play. Christmas had passed in a flurry of magic and excitement; presents were unwrapped, Santa Claus arrived amidst Christmas trees and baubles. Everyone had enjoyed the festive season. And now Spring was almost here, and everyone was preparing
15 Zvuk razonode i sreće, a ne zvuk lova. Tup. Tup. Tup. Bila je to neka porodica: mama, tata i dvoje djece. Uživali su u popodnevnom suncu… Slavuj je otvorio kljun ne bi li zapjevao. Kad bi ga mogli čuti, možda bi mu pomogli. Svom snagom pokušavao je da iz grla istisne neku zlatnu notu, ali nije mu se dalo. Zatvorio je oči i zamislio da leti. Zamislio je šum vjetra, miris borovog drveća i žutog lišća koje nosi hladni zrak. Zamislio je ukus tamnih, sočnih bobica koje klize njegovim suvim grlom, a onda i slatki zlatni nektar cvijeta „Orlovi nokti“. Ali ništa se nije dešavalo. Sve oko njega bilo je tiho. Uzdahnuo je. Njegov glas je nestao. Utonuo je ponovo u žbun ne bi li sačuvao malo energije. Možda će se sunce pojaviti i ugrijati mu krila. Koliko želi da osjeti njegovu toplinu, da pusti da se sunčevi blistavi zraci zavuku duboko pod perje. Prošlo je nekoliko hladnih mjeseci. To je bila jedna od najhladnijih zima koju su stanovnici Nikšića zapamtili. Vjetar je prevukao po zemlji mraz, mnogo oštriji nego što je iko očekivao. Planine okolo grada bile su odjenute debelim bijelim pokrivačem. Po crvenim krovovima blistali su snijeg i inje – Nikšić se bješe pretvorio u neki ledeni grad. Onda je došla kiša i od zimskog carstva stvorila bljuzgavicu i haos. Stanovnici grada udruženo su čistili ulice i dopremali hranu do udaljenih domaćinstava – trudili su se da svi budu zbrinuti. Drva za ogrijev bila su iscijepana, peći su svuda gorjele; u šerpama su se krčkale čorbe; porodice su se okupljale; Nikšićani su dobro znali kako provesti hladnu zimu. Konačno je ledeni grad počeo da se topi. Sunce je nekada moralo izazvati snijeg, pa je i pobjedilo, a nikšićkoj djeci donijelo nove prilike za igru. Božić je prošao u naletu magije i uzbuđenja; odmotani su pokloni; Djeda Mraz se pojavljivao među božićnim jelkama i njihovim ukrasima. Svi su uživali u veselom prazniku. Proljeće samo što nije stiglo i svi su se pripremali
16 for warmer times. Watching over Nikšić, like a king over his subjects, was Mount Trebjesa. Rocky slopes boasted sweet-smelling pinecones. The air was fresh, the view from the top breathtaking – a gift fit for any king! During the warm summer months, families took picnics, blankets and racket games up to the top of the mountain. Yet in the winter, the ice set firm on the pathways, making it too treacherous to try. Today was the first time that Marija and her family had managed to make the climb in more than a month. Marija, dressed in ripped jeans and a black trilby, slammed her racket against the shuttlecock. ‘Come on, Dad. At least try and hit it! I told you I was better than you!’ Dad raised his eyebrows and thrashed at the target. ‘Sure? I seem to remember teaching you!’ Marija laughed and returned the shot with ease, her cheeks bright with excitement. ‘Two more points and I win!’ She unzipped her yellow raincoat, crouched, and then fixed her eyes firmly on the challenge. ‘I’m not going to lose, Dad.’ ‘Sure?’ Dad hit the target hard, sending the shuttlecock hurtling near the bushes. ‘Sorry, Marija.’ Marija skidded over the grass and recovered it. ‘Got it!’ Her brother, Matija, clapped his hands excitedly. ‘I want to play! I want to play!’ Mum pulled him into a bear hug, yanking a red woollen hat over his ears. ‘Keep this on, and the Ice Queen won’t gift you a cold!’ She tweaked his nose, trying not to laugh when the young boy pushed the hat back off. ‘Don’t want to!’ he said, stamping his feet. ‘Not cold.’ ‘Grandma spent a long time knitting this,’ said Mum gently. ‘It’ll make her happy. Isn’t that right, Marija?’ Marija, poised to tackle the next volley, glanced at her brother. ‘I wish my hat was as nice as yours,’ she said kindly. ‘I would never take it off.’ If anyone could make Matija listen, it was Marija. ‘OK, Marija,’ said Matija, pulling the hat back over his ears and running after the shuttlecock. ‘If it makes Grandma happy.’
17 za toplije dane. Iznad Nikšića, poput nekog kralja koji budno bdi nad svojim podanicima, dizala se Trebjesa. Njene stjenovite padine obilovale su mirisnim borovim šišarkama. Zrak je bio svjež. Od pogleda s vrha zastajao je dah – bio je to dar dostojan svakog kralja! Tokom toplih ljetnih mjeseci, porodice bi organizovale piknike, nosile sa sobom prostirke i rekete za igru. Ali zimi je led čvrsto stezao staze, pa nije bilo lako popeti se na vrh. Danas su Marija i njena porodica, prvi put nakon više mjeseci, uspjeli da se popnu do vrha Trebjese. Marija, u iscijepanim farmerkama i s crnim kačketom, udarila je reketom lopticu. „Hajde, tata. Pokušaj makar da je udariš! Rekla sam ti da sam bolja od tebe u ovome!“ Tata je podigao obrve i zamahnuo reketom. „Jesi li sigurna? Čini mi se da si zaboravila kako sam te ja ovome učio!“ Marija se nasmijala i lagano vratila udarac, obrazi su joj blistali od uzbuđenja. „Još dva poena i moja je pobjeda!“ Otkopčala je svoj žuti mantil, napravila čučanj i ustremila pogled ka izazovu. „Ne namjeravam da izgubim, tata!“ „Jesi li sigurna?“ Njen tata snažno je udario loptu, a ona je odletjela duboko u žbunje. „Izvini, Marija!“ Marija je skliznula niz travu i dohvatila lopticu. „Imam je.“ Njen mali brat Matija s uzbuđenjem je aplaudirao. „Hoću i ja da igram! Hoću i ja da igram!“ Mama ga je čvrsto prigrlila i navukla crvenu vunenu kapu preko njegovih ušiju. „Drži ovo na glavi, Matija, pa te Ledena kraljica neće darivati zimom!“ Štipnula ga je za nosić i jedva se suzdržala da se glasno ne nasmije kada je dječak ponovo skinuo kapu. „Ne želim je!“, reče Matija i lupnu nogom. „Nije hladno.“ „A baka je toliko vremena potrošila pletući ti kapu“, odgovori nježno njegova mama. „Bila bi srećna da je nosiš, zar ne, Marija?“ Marija baci pogled na brata, s rukom spremnom da uđe u koštac sa sljedećom loptom. „Voljela bih da je moja kapa lijepa kao tvoja“, reče ona umilno. „Nikada je ne bih skinula.“ Ako je iko mogao da natjera Matiju da posluša, bila je to Marija. „U redu, Marija“, odgovorio je Matija, te navukao kapu preko ušiju i pojurio za lopticom. „Ako će se baka radovati...“
20 Marija and her brother loved spending time with their family. Grandma showed them how to milk cows and grow vegetables. Carrots, potatoes, and peas filled every inch of her garden. They would sit beneath the grape vines on sunny afternoons, telling stories and drinking home-made juice. On the other side of Nikšić lived their other grandma and grandad. Grandpa would tease Marija about the latest fashions or the crazy new songs she listened to on the radio. Grandma would take them to the park and push Matija on the swings, before all heading home to steaming bowls of stew and fresh-baked bread. These were precious times. Treasured times. Times that Marija and her brother loved the best. ‘Come on, Dad,’ Marija giggled as the shuttlecock flipped straight into the undergrowth. ‘You have to try harder!’ She ran over and reached into the bushes, hesitating as her fingers brushed against brown speckled feathers and a cream velvet undercoat. Two black eyes gazed back up at her. ‘Oh!’ Marija pulled the branches apart to get a better look at the fluffy bundle in front of her. ‘Hey, little one. What are you doing here?’ ‘Hurry, Marija!’ shouted Matija impatiently, running up behind her. ‘I want to play.’ ‘Marija?’ asked Mum. ‘What is it?’ ‘Just a second.’ Marija had never been this close to a wild bird before. It was trembling, but at least it wasn’t trying to get away. Mum knelt on the grass beside her. ‘It looks like a nightingale.’ ‘I think it’s hurt,’ Marija said, running her fingers over the bird’s trembling feathers. ‘It’s barely moving.’ ‘Nature has its own way of healing,’ said Dad gently. ‘Look at the way he’s trying to sing. Only male Nightingales have that ability.’ ‘We can’t just leave him here,’ wailed Marija. ‘He’ll be scared, alone.’ ‘Do you remember all those times you tumbled and hurt yourself?’ asked
21 Marija i njen brat voljeli su da provode vrijeme sa porodicom. Baka im je pokazivala kako da muzu krave i uzgajaju povrće. Šagarepa, krompir i grašak popunjavali su svaki komadić njenog vrta. Pekla im je ukusne čokoladne kolačiće i punila im čaše zlatnim sokom od jabuka. Ljetnja popodneva provodili su sa njom upijajući priče o njenoj mladosti. Na drugom kraju grada živjeli su druga baka i djed. Djed je zadirkivao Mariju šalama o posljednjoj modi ili novim luckastim pjesmama koje je slušala na svom telefonu. Baka je voljela da unuke odvede u park i ljulja Matiju na ljuljašci. Kada bi se vratili kući, prekrili bi sto svježim pečenim hljebom i činijama iz kojih se pušila čorba. To su bili dragocjeni trenuci. Neprocjenjivi trenuci. Trenuci koje su Marija i njen brat najviše voljeli. „Hajde, tata“, Marija se zasmijala glasno kada je loptica ponovo skliznula u žbun. „Moraš više da se potrudiš!“ Marija je potrčala prema žbunu, ispružila ruku da dohvati lopticu i neodlučno se povukla kada su njeni prsti, umjesto na lopticu, naišli na mekano perje. Ispod nježnog kafenkastog paperja krila su se dva crna oka koja su sa strahom gledala u nju. „Oh!“ Marija je razgrnula grane žbuna ne bi li bolje vidjela pernati smotuljak pred sobom. „Hej, maleni. Šta ti radiš ovdje?“ „Požuri, Marija!“, vikao je Matija nestrpljivo trčeći za njom. „Hoću da se igram.“ „Marija, šta je to?”, upitala je njena mama prilazeći joj. „Samo trenutak.“ Nikada ranije nije bila tako blizu divlje ptice. Ptičica je drthala, ali nije pokušavala da pobjegne. Mama je kleknula u travu kraj Marije. „Izgleda kao slavuj!“ „Mislim da je povrijeđen“, rekla je Marija prelazeći prstima preko drhtavih leđa ptičice. „Jedva da se pomjera.“ „Priroda posjeduje svoje načine kako da zaliječi rane,“ rekao je nježno Marijin tata dok je stajao iznad nje. „Pogledaj samo kako pokušava da zacvrkuće. Samo muški slavuji mogu da pjevaju.“ „Ne možemo ga ostaviti ovdje“, molila je Marija. „Plašiće se, sam. Možda je izgubio glas.“ „A da li se ti sjećaš svih tvojih padova i povređivanja?“, pitala je
22 Mum. ‘You didn’t stay down long! The bird will be fine, Marija. Maybe he had a slight fall.’ Marija frowned. ‘Maybe. Look how small he is.’ ‘Mum’s right, sweetheart,’ said Dad, pulling her up from the ground. ‘The nightingale will be OK. Come on, it’s time to go.’ When Marija set her mind to something, she didn’t budge easily. ‘Can we come back tomorrow?’ ‘Of course,’ said Dad. ‘Now, who wants hot chocolate?’ Matija jumped around excitedly, his hat falling to the ground. ‘Me! Me! Me!’ Marija glanced back at the bush as her family headed off down the hill. ‘I’ll be back, little Nightingale. I promise.’
23 mama. „Nije ti dugo trebalo da ustaneš! Slavuj će biti dobro. Možda je samo nezgodno pao.“ Marija se namrštila. „Možda. Pogledajte kako je mali.“ „Mama je u pravu, dušo“, dodao je tata nježno, podižući Mariju sa zemlje. „Slavuju će biti dobro. Hajdemo, vrijeme je da krenemo.“ Marija se lako ne predaje kada se namjeri na nešto. „Možemo li da se vratimo sjutra?“ „Naravno“, rekao je tata. „A sada, ko želi toplu čokoladu?“ Matija je uzbuđeno skakutao oko njih, a kapa mu je neprestano padala sa glave. „Ja! Ja! Ja!“ Marija je bacila još jedan pogled na žbun kada je njena porodica pred njom krenula niz brdo. „Vratiću se ja, slavuju mali“, prošaputala je. „Obećavam.“
26 Chapter II Rescue Marija put down her pencil. Hours had passed since they’d returned from Mount Trebjesa. Her fingers were smudged black, and the paper in front of her was a mash of scribblings. There was an hour until teatime and she needed to finish this before tomorrow. Why couldn’t she draw what she was supposed to? Mrs Popovic, the school art teacher, was renowned for setting challenging projects. This week’s homework was no different. Marija was passionate about art, the way she was about everything. She loved sketching, painting, photography – anything that involved using her imagination. So why was she stuck on the simple theme of ‘Life’? Marija groaned and rested back in her seat. Her thoughts wandered up to the top of the mountain where the little nightingale would be sitting, cold and alone in the bush. What if a rat or fox had stumbled across him? What if he was starving – if he hadn’t eaten for days? The ‘what ifs’ grew bigger and more worrying until she couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Mrs Popovic says creativity doesn’t vanish,’ she muttered, jumping up and pulling on her raincoat and boots. ‘It stumbles, takes strange paths … but it’s always there, tucked deep in our minds. And it’s up to us to find it.’ She grabbed hold of an old shoebox and tucked the leftovers of her lunchtime sandwich inside. ‘Mum? I’ll be back before tea,’ she called out cheerfully. ‘I have to go and check something.’ ‘OK,’ replied Mum. ‘Don’t be late.’ Marija clicked the front door shut behind her. The sun had already vanished, and black clouds were threatening the dark blue sky. She hated storms, especially when they attacked the town, sending silver lightening forks into the walls of the old castle situated on the far side of Nikšić.
27 Drugo poglavlje Spasavanje Marija je spustila olovku. Sati su prošli otkad su se vratili sa Trebjese. Prsti su joj bili umrljani mastilom, a na papiru pred njom bila je samo nesređena gomila šara. Do večere je ostalo još pola sata, a ona je morala da završi zadatak za sjutra. Zbog čega nije mogla da nacrta ono što se od nje očekivalo? Gospođa Popović, nastavnica likovnog, bila je poznata po tome što je djeci zadavala izazovne projekte, pa je takav slučaj bio i sa domaćim zadatkom za tu nedjelju. Marija je strastveno voljela umjetnost, a jednako je bila strastvena prema svemu što je činilo život. Voljela je da crta, da slika, fotografiše – voljela je sve što je uključivalo maštu. Pa, zbog čega onda nije mogla nacrtati nešto – na jednostavnu temu „Život“? Marija je uzdahnula i bacila se u naslon svoje stolice. Misli su joj lutale ka onom žbunu u kojem je mali slavuj još uvijek šćućuren, ozebao i sam. Šta ako na njega nabasa neki pacov ili lisica? Šta ako je gladan? Ovo „šta ako“ bivalo je sve brojnije i sve više je uznemiravalo Mariju. „Gospođa Popović kaže da kreativnost ne nestaje“, promrmljala je, skočivši sa stolice i navlačeći svoje čizme i mantil. „Posrće, kreće čudnim putevima…, ali uvijek je tu, duboko u nama. A na tebi je da odgonetneš u čemu je problem.“ Zgrabila je neku staru kutiju od Matijinih cipela i u nju ubacila ostatke sendviča koji joj je majka spremila za užinu. „Mama! Vratiću se prije večere“, doviknula je veselo. „Moram da izađem i da nešto provjerim.“ „U redu“, odgovorila je mama. „Nemoj ostati do kasno.“ Marija je pažljivo zatvorila vrata za sobom. Sunce je već bilo zašlo, a crni oblaci prijeteći su pokrili nekada plavo nebo. Mrzjela je oluje, posebno zbog načina na koji su napadale grâd, šaljući srebrne račve munja po zidovima starog bedema.
28 If she hurried, she could make it to the top of the mountain and back before the rain came. Fifteen minutes later, out of breath and nervous, she finally reached the top. She ran across to the bush and pushed the leaves apart. Please be here, little bird. Please be OK. Two small eyes beamed up at her. Marija sighed with relief. ‘My little Nightingale,’ she whispered. ‘I knew you’d still be here.’ She pulled a scrap of ham from the box and dangled it above his beak. ‘Mum made us lunch.’ The Nightingale devoured the treat as Marija sat back and watched. Since she’d stumbled across the nest this morning, she’d been unable to concentrate on anything else. The Nightingale had fluttered into her heart and made his own warm nest inside. ‘What's your story, little bird? How come you’re alone?’ The Nightingale pecked greedily at the ground. Marija smiled and emptied out the last piece of bread and ham. ‘More?’ Peck. Peck. Peck. Marija giggled as the little bird ate every morsel. ‘Now, I need to take you home.’ The next step was going to be difficult as Marija wondered how to pick the bird up. ‘If I lift you like this,’ she said, scooping her hands gently beneath him, ‘then it might … just … work.’ She kept her hand light on his back as she lowered him into the cardboard box. ‘There we go,’ she said happily as the Nightingale nuzzled against her hand. ‘We’re going home to the best family in the world.’
29 Ako bude požurila, vratiće se prije nego kiša počne. Petnaest minuta kasnije, bez daha i uznemirena, stigla je do vrha Trebjese. Potrčala je prema žbunu i razgrnula je lišće. Molim te da budeš ovdje, ptico mala. Molim te da budeš dobro. Dva mala oka zasvjetlucala su prema njoj. Marija je uzdahnula s olakšanjem. „Moj mali slavuj“, prošaputala je Marija. „Znala sam da ćeš biti ovdje.“ Izvadila je komadić svježeg hljeba iz kutije i zanjihala ga iznad kljuna ptice. „Mama nam je napravila ručak.“ Slavuj je dar pohlepno gutao, dok je Marija sjedjela sa strane i posmatrala ga. Otkad je tog jutra nabasala na njegovo maleno sklonište, Marija se nije mogla koncentrisati ni na jednu drugu stvar. Slavuj je dolepršao usred njenog srca i u njemu stvorio novo toplo gnijezdo. „A šta se tebi desilo, ptico mala? Zbog čega si sam?“ Slavuj je kljucnuo u tlo pred sobom. Marija se nasmijala i prosula posljednje komadiće hljeba iz kutije. „Hoćeš li još?“ Kljuc. Kljuc. Kljuc. Marija se glasno zasmijala, pošto je ptičica pojela svaki komadić. „U redu. A sada je vrijeme da te vodim kući.“ Sljedeći korak biće težak. Marija se pitala kako da podigne ptičicu. „Ako te podignem ovako“, rekla je, nježno zahvatajući šakama pticu, „možda... ću... uspjeti...“ Pridržavala ga je jednom rukom preko leđa, polako ga spuštajući u kartonsku kutiju. „Uspjeli smo“, rekla je Marija ponosno. „Idemo kući, kod najbolje porodice na svijetu.“
32 Chapter III Sweet Treats Marija clicked the front door shut, making sure the box stayed hidden behind her back. She was home. With a bird. A soft warm Nightingale who needed her help. Excitement and nervousness flooded through her. ‘Marija?’ ‘Be there in a minute, Dad,’ she called out, hoping she sounded normal. No one could know she had brought the Nightingale home. Not yet, anyway. Matija appeared in front of her wearing a dinosaur jumper. ‘Marija play with me?’ ‘Not now, Matija,’ said Marija gently. ‘Later, OK?’ The young boy’s eyes widened as he peeked behind her back. ‘What’s that?’ Marija ruffled his hair, letting raindrops splatter his rosy cheeks. ‘Maybe I’ll show you later. Let me get changed, then I’ll come and read you a book.’ ‘OK,’ he said skipping away. ‘Byeeeeee.’ Marija slipped into her bedroom and closed the door. She opened the box and peered inside. ‘How are you, little one?’ The Nightingale nudged her hand, his feathers warm and soft. Marija sighed happily. If only her friends were here. They would laugh and tell her she was crazy for keeping a bird at home. Yet like her, they loved nature and wildlife. She knew they would have done the exact same thing. *** Marija had no idea how she managed to stay calm throughout dinner. Mum said she had a chance to visit France with
33 Treće poglavlje Slatka gozba Marija je pažljivo zatvorila vrata, vodeći računa da kutija ostane skrivena iza njenih leđa. Bila je kod svoje kuće. Sa pticom. Mekanim, toplim slavujem kome je bila potrebna njena pomoć. Cijelo njeno tijelo obuzeli su uzbuđenje i nemir. „Marija?“ „Dolazim za minut, tata“, doviknula je, nadajući se da zvuči uobičajeno. Niko ne smije da zna da je kući donijela slavuja. Barem ne zasada. Matija se pojavio pred njom u džemperu sa dinosaurima. „Marija, igraj se sa mnom?“ „Ne sada, Matija“, odgovorila je Marija nježno. „Poslije, važi?“ Oči malog dječaka širom su se otvorile kada je primijetio kutiju za Marijinim leđima. „Šta je to?“ Marija ga je počeškala po kosi, puštajući da kapi kiše s njenog mantila poprskaju njegove rumene obraze. „Možda ću ti pokazati kasnije. Pusti me da se prvo presvučem, a onda ću da se vratim i čitam ti knjigu.“ „U redu. Zdraaavo!“ Matija se nasmijao i otrčao. Marija je hitro ušla u svoju sobu i zatvorila vrata. Otvorila je kutiju i zavirila unutra. „Kako si, maleni?“ Slavuj je malčice izvio vrat, krila su mu bila topla i mekana. Marija je uzdahnula sa olakšanjem. Da su samo njeni drugari tu. Smijali bi joj se i rekli joj da je poludjela što je donijela kući pticu da se stara o njoj. Ali, poput nje, svi njeni prijatelji voljeli su prirodu i životinje. Znala je da bi i oni postupili isto. *** Marija nije znala kako joj je uspjelo da ostane mirna tokom večere. Mama je pomenula kako ima priliku da posjeti Francusku sa
34 the dance group she belonged to. Folk dancing on the streets of Paris would be magical! Paris. Marija turned the thought over and over in her head, hoping that if she conjured it up enough, she would be magically whisked away to the most romantic city on earth. She would savour the Parisian side streets where elegant ladies sat in fashionable cafés and tasted freshly baked croissants; Frenchmen, wearing berets and brown cord jackets, would throw boules across a gravelled pit. And then there was Disneyland, a place full of fun and laughter. They would ride on rollercoasters and whizz around on colourful carousels. ‘Marija?’ Mum interrupted her thoughts. ‘More bread?' ‘Sorry – I was thinking,’ said Marija, taking a soft bread roll. ‘Can’t I come to Paris, too?’ Mum smiled. ‘I thought London was top of your list? You’ve always wanted to go there.’ ‘I want to go to Paris and London,’ said Marija. ‘They both sound amazing.’ ‘Don’t forget you’re going to be an international explorer one day,’ teased Dad. ‘You will travel around the world and see everything. Maybe I can come with you?’ Marija rolled her eyes. ‘You can’t, Dad. You’ll be too old.’ ‘Really?’ Dad said, trying hard not to laugh. ‘And how old is old? Couldn’t you fit me into your rucksack?’ Marija giggled and poured herself a glass of milk. ‘I don’t think so. My bag will be too full!’ ‘Paris! Paris! Paris’ shrieked Matija. ‘I want to go to Paris.’ More than once, Marija opened her mouth to tell them her secret, but she knew they would tell her she shouldn’t have gone up the mountain alone. Then they would tell her to take the Nightingale outside. Where nature really belonged. Tomorrow. She would tell them tomorrow. Once the Nightingale had settled into his new habitat, then she would introduce him to the rest of her family, and they would love him too.
35 plesnom grupom čiji je član bila. Folklorni ples na ulicama Pariza bio bi magičan! Pariz. Marija je više puta ponovila to ime, nadajući se ako ga dovoljno snažno prizove, da će je nešto magično zamahnuti ka tom najromantičnijem gradu na svijetu. Uživaće u pariskim uličicama, u kojima elegantne dame sjede u mondenskim kafićima i jedu svježe kroasane, dok Francuzi sa beretkama i u kafenim somotskim jaknama boćaju na šljunkovitim terenima. U mislima se nađe u Diznilendu, mjestu sa puno razonode i smijeha. Voziće se na svih 360 rolerkostera i vrtjeti na šarenim karuselima. „Marija“, mama je prekinula njene sanjarije – „hoćeš li još hljeba?“. „Izvini – zamislila sam se“, reče Marija prihvatajući parče toplog hljeba. „Mogu li i ja putovati za Pariz?“ „Pariz! Pariz! Pariz!“, uzvikivao je Matija. „Hoću da idem u Pariz.“ Mama se nasmijala. „Mislila sam da je London prvi na tvojoj listi? Uvijek si željela da pođeš tamo.“ „Želim da obiđem i Pariz i London“, rekla je Marija. „I jedan i drugi grad djeluju zadivljujuće.“ „Nemoj da zaboraviš da ćeš ti jednog dana biti međunarodni istraživač“, rekao je tata. „Putovaćeš širom svijeta i sve ćeš vidjeti. Možda i ja mogu da pođem s tobom?“ Marija je zavrtjela očima. „Ne možeš, tata. Bićeš suviše star.“ „Stvarno?“ odgovorio je njen tata, pokušavajući da se ne nasmije. „A šta to znači biti star? Zar me ne bi mogla utrpati u tvoj ruksak?“ Marija se zasmijala i usula sebi šolju mlijeka. „Ja ne mislim tako. Moja torba biće puna!“ „Pariz! Pariz! Pariz!“, vikao je Matija. „Hoću da idem Pariz.“ Nekolika puta Marija je kretala da im oda svoju tajnu, ali znala je šta će oni reći – da nije trebalo da ide sama na Trebjesu. A onda bi joj rekli da slavuja iznese napolje. Jer njegovo mjesto je u prirodi. Sjutra. Sjutra ću im sve reći. Kada se slavuj navikne na svoje novo mjesto stanovanja, predstaviće ga svojoj porodici, a onda će ga svi oni voljeti baš kao što ga ona voli.
36 Finally, once they had finished a dessert of pancakes, she managed to slip away to her bedroom. She gently pulled the shoebox out from beneath her bed. ‘Hungry?’ asked Marija as the little bird stared up at her. She pulled a bunch of juicy grapes from her pocket, along with a half-eaten bread roll. The Nightingale studied them curiously, before pecking into the red fleshy skins. ‘You were hungry,’ said Marija, wondering how much food one small bird could eat. ‘Now, let’s figure out why you can’t fly.’ She ran her fingers along his wings, taking care not to press too hard. There wasn’t any visible sign of injury, and his feathers weren’t torn or damaged. Maybe he had fallen, just as Mum had said. Marija wrapped a woollen scarf around his body to help keep him warm, and then pulled the lid back over the box, making sure he had enough air to breathe. ‘Rest is what you need,’ said Marija firmly. ‘Then you will be able to fly again, hopefully first thing in the morning!’ Now that the bird was safe and fed, Marija began to relax. With her pencil on the page, she started to draw. Her fingers darted skilfully across the paper, shading and etching – outlining the body of a nightingale. She made the eyes small and dark like blueberries; then she created rust-coloured feathers that skimmed its back like a fall of autumn leaves. She shaded in a dappled grey belly, followed by a dark beak splattered with orange and yellow. A beautiful, golden nightingale. Early evening quickly turned to late night. Marija yawned. She was tired, but triumphant. The ‘Life’ project was her best work yet.
37 Kada su na kraju pojeli palačinke koje su dobili za desert, Marija se iskrala i otrčala u svoju sobu. Čučnula je i lagano izvukla kutiju koja se nalazila ispod kreveta. „Jesi li gladan?“ Iz džepa je izvukla šaku sočnog grožđa i napola pojedenu kiflu. Slavuj je radoznalo pogledao grožđe i onda počeo da kljuca njegovu crvenu sočnu koricu. „Bio si gladan“, rekla je Marija i zapitala se koliko hrane može da pojede jedna toliko mala ptica. „A sada da vidimo zbog čega ne možeš da letiš.“ Prešla je prstićima po njegovim krilima, vodeći računa da ga ne povrijedi. Nije mogla uočiti trag ozljede, a perje mu nije bilo iščupano ili uništeno. Možda je pao i ošamutio se, baš kao što je mama rekla. Marija je pažljivo obmotala pticu mekanim vunenim šalom, a onda ponovo navukla poklopac kutije, vodeći računa o otvoru za vazduh. „Odmor je sve što ti je potrebno“, rekla je Marija odlučno. „A onda ćeš ustati i ponovo letjeti, možda već sjutra ujutru!“ Kada je ptica bila nahranjena i na sigurnom, Marija se opustila. Spustila je olovku na papir i počela da crta. Njeni prsti vješto su skakutali po papiru, sjenčili i označavali ivice – ocrtavajući tijelo slavuja. Nacrtala je male tamne oči, poput borovnica, onda dodala perje boje rđe, koje je klizilo niz tijelo ptice poput kiše jesenjeg lišća. Zasjenčila je tufnasti sivi stomak, a uslijedio je i mračni kljun poprskan narandžastim i žutim mrljama. Divni, zlatni slavuj. Rano veče brzo je potonulo u mrak. Marija se naslonila, bila je umorna, ali osjećala se kao pobjednica. To je bio njen najbolji rad do sada. „Život“ je bio ispred nje.
38 Chapter IV Feathered guest Getting to sleep was impossible. Every few minutes, Marija would check if the bird was moving, breathing. Each time she talked softly, making sure not to scare him. She chatted about her friends. About Anja’s new dog and Milica’s trip to the dentist. She even mentioned the new clothes shop that was opening next week. ‘I need boots – oh, and a hat!’ Marija whispered excitedly. ‘I want one with a purple trim, just like the one Demi Lovato wears.’ The little bird fluttered his wings and nudged closer to Marija’s hand. ‘Everyone loves Demi,’ she continued. ‘She’s the best singer in the world. One day, I will go and see her in concert!’ Marija waited until the Nightingale closed his eyes, smiling at the gentle rise and fall of his velvet chest. She lay back on her bed and eventually fell asleep. It had been a long and exciting day. She dreamt of storm clouds billowing across an angry grey sea. She was captain of a pirate ship, dressed in a gold-buttoned blazer with a skull-printed bandana tied around her head. Matija was her faithful crew, small yet fierce. Together they yanked up the sails and rode the sea like they were riding a herd of wild stallions – two explorers discovering the world. Black mountains rose up ahead of them, treacherous pathways bursting with monsters and dragons. Matija was brave and tried to fight them all, anything to help his sister. They travelled to places far, far away, eating strange foods and visiting dust-filled cities where people spoke rich, exotic languages. Dreams promised adventures. Dreams promised forever. ***
39 Četvrto poglavlje Pernati gost Nije bilo moguće zaspati. Marija je provirivala da provjeri da li ptica diše, da li se kreće. Sve vrijeme je govorila tiho, vodeći računa da je ne uplaši. Pričala joj je o njenim drugarima. O Anjinom novom psu, kako je Milica išla kod zubara. Pomenula je čak da se otvara nova prodavnica odjeće sljedeće nedjelje u centru grada. „Trebaju mi čizme – oh, i kapa!“, prošaputala je Marija uzbuđeno. „Želim kapu sa purpurnim obodom, baš kao što je ona koju nosi Demi Lovato.“ Ptičica je zalepršala krilima i privila se uz Marijinu šaku. „Svi vole Demi“, nastavila je. „Ona je najbolja pjevačica na svijetu. Jednog dana ću poći na njen koncert!“ Marija je čekala dok ptičica zatvori oči, smijući se laganom podizanju i spuštanju njenih plišanih grudi. Onda je i sama legla i ubrzo zaspala. Bio je to dug i uzbudljiv dan. Sanjala je kako se olujni oblaci nadvijaju nad ljutim sivim morem. Bila je kapetan nekog gusarskog broda, odjevena u blejzer sa zlatnim dugmadima, a oko glave je imala zavezanu bandanu sa naslikanim lobanjama. Matija je bio sva njena posada, bio je mali, ali neumoljiv. Zajedno su podigli jedra i jedrili morima poput divljih pastuva: dva istraživača koja otkrivaju svijet. Planine su se dizale pred njima, pune raznih čudovišta, možda čak i zmajeva. Matija je bio hrabar i pokušao je da ih sve nadjača – sve bi uradio da pomogne sestri. Putovali su u daleka mjesta, daleka, daleka, hranili se čudnom hranom i posjećivali prašnjave gradove, čiji stanovnici su govorili nekim bogatim, egzotičnim jezicima. Snovi su obećavali avanturu. Snovi su obećavali zauvijek. ***
42 Whilst Marija slept, the little bird began to stir. He hopped out of the box and across the wooden floor to see more of this new world. Tonight, he would begin his own great adventure. There was no blue sky or soft, green grass in here. There were no trees or puddles, not even a pond or a stream. Nature’s green cloak had been replaced with different colours and shapes. A multi-coloured blanket, a white cupboard, and a piano made up this home. There were pictures on the walls: clever lines, and cool images. Matija’s dinosaur book lay on a table beside his sister’s black trilby; a butterfly chime tinged in the breeze. It was so different from the forest. Being far from his family felt strange. They would miss him, the way he missed them. They would remember the night flights spent swooping over sunlit lakes, before heading up towards the mountaintops. They would remember building nests as the elders went in search of food. Then there were the sunny, carefree days when they had sucked the juice from wild strawberries growing ragged over the mountains. Each memory was precious and wrapped in love, and for the first time, the little bird felt sad. They were meant to be together forever. If only he could see them again. He hopped forward. One hop, two. Three hops, four. His body didn’t ache as much as before, and somehow, his wings felt lighter. Almost healed. The wind rattled the window, inviting him to come and fly – to taste freedom one more time. Warmth, however, begged him to stay, to rest and rebuild his strength. The Nightingale trembled. He wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, Marija’s bedroom window blew open, sending the art book cascading to the floor. The pages lifted and scattered like leaves. Sketches of buildings, fruits, and animals lay strewn across the floor. The Nightingale hid beneath the bed and watched, his heart racing. There were so many wonderful pictures, each oozing with life and energy. Places Marija must have dreamt of. If only they could see them together. It would be the best adventure ever.
43 Dok je Marija spavala, slavuj je počeo da se komeša. Iskočio je iz kutije, preskakutao preko drvenog poda ne bi li video nešto više od ovog novog svijeta. Noćas će i on početi sopstvenu veliku avanturu. Nije bilo plavog neba, niti mekane zelene trave. Nije bilo drveća, niti jezeraca, čak ni potoka, ni barica. Zeleni plašt prirode zamijenjen je drugačijim bojama i oblicima. Umjesto toga, pozdravili su ga jedno šareno ćebe, bijela vitrina, gomila šarene odjeće i jedan klavir. Zidove su krasile slike jarkih boja, sa jasnim linijama i prijatnim likovima. Matijina knjiga sa dinosaurusima bila je na stolu pored Marijinog crnog kačketa. Zvončići u obliku leptira visili su nad prozorom i treperili na povjetarcu. Ovaj svijet se veoma razlikovao od šume. Bilo je čudno biti daleko od porodice. Nedostajeće mu, baš kao što će i on nedostajati njima. Sjetiće se zajedničkih letova – kako su zaranjali zrakom do površine suncem obasjanih jezera, a onda se ustremljivali ka vragolastim vrhovima planina. Sjetiće se vremena kada su gradili gnijezda, dok su stariji tragali za hranom. A bilo je, onda, i sunčanih i bezbrižnih dana kada su sisali sok iz divljih jagoda koje su raštrkano rasle po obodima planina. Svako sjećanje bilo je dragocjeno i obavijeno ljubavlju, pa se mala ptica po prvi put rastužila. Zamišljala je kako će zauvijek biti zajedno. Kada bi ih samo još jednom mogla vidjeti. Poskočila je naprijed. Jedan skok, dva. Pa treći, pa četvrti. Tijelo je nije boljelo kao prije, a nekako su joj se i krila učinila lakšim. Bila je skoro izliječena. Staklo na prozoru zazvečalo je na vjetru, pozivajući slavuja da mu priđe i poleti – da još jednom osjeti slobodu.Toplina, pak, vukla ga je da ostane, da se odmori, da sakupi snagu. Zadrthao je. Nije znao šta da radi. Iznenada prozor na Marijinoj spavaćoj sobi širom se otvorio, pa je vjetar oborio na pod blok sa crtežima. Podizao je i razbacivao njegove stranice poput jesenjeg lišća. Crteži građevina, voća i životinja bili su razbacani po podu. Slavuj se sakrio ispod kreveta i posmatrao, njegovo malo srce snažno je kucalo. Toliko je bilo čarobnih slika iz kojih su zračili život i energija. Marija sigurno sanja ova mjesta. Kada bi samo mogli zajedno da ih posjete. To bi bila najbolja avantura na svijetu.
46 Chapter V Friendship The next morning, when Marija woke up, she noticed her bedroom window was ajar. She dived straight under her bed, the Nightingale the only thing on her mind. But as she lifted the bed sheets, all she saw was an empty box. The little bird had gone. Marija’s heart sank. She moved to the window and stared out at the clear blue sky. There, on the latch, was a single brown feather. ‘I hope you’re OK, little bird,’ she whispered. ‘And that I will see you again.’ I shall miss you, Nightingale. Marija brushed her hair and tried to forget about the bird. She needed a different plan. Something else to do. And with the town sports centre about to open a new Olympic-sized swimming pool, Marija was already thinking of tomorrow. She and her friends couldn’t wait to go. In the winter, nobody ventured out to Lake Krupac because it was too cold. But now, with the new pool almost ready, the people of Nikšić would be able to swim all year round. Marija slung her bag onto her shoulder, shouted goodbye to her parents, and headed off into town. She was meeting her friends and they had much to catch up on. ‘Paris?’ shrieked Teodora as they grabbed a table in the local café. ‘How can we go? More importantly, when can we go?’ ‘Let’s make a promise to go as soon as we can,’ said Marija. ‘There will be so many things to see!’ ‘The Eiffel Tower,’ said Anja. ‘Everyone has to go to the top and look out over France.’ Milica smiled as she made a tower out of milkshake straws. ‘Sounds fun. Especially if we get to eat snails!’ Marija clutched her stomach and groaned. ‘Not me. They belong on the ground, not on the table.’
47 Peto poglavlje Prijateljstvo Kada se probudila sljedećeg jutra, Marija je primijetila da je prozor njene spavaće sobe širom otvoren. Odmah je pogledala ispod kreveta – podigla je mekani vuneni šal i suočila se sa praznom kutijom. Mala ptica je otišla. Marija je osjetila bol u srcu. Stala je kraj prozora i zagledala se u vedro plavo nebo. Na rezi prozora zaustavilo se samo jedno kafeno pero. „Nadam se da si dobro, ptico mala, i da ću te ponovo vidjeti”, šaputala je. Nedostajaćeš mi, slavuju. Marija se očešljala i pokušavala je da zaboravi pticu. Bio joj je potreban drugi plan. Trebalo je da radi nešto drugo. Pošto se otvarao novi sportski centar, sa velikim olimpijskim bazenom, Marija je mislila na sjutra. Ona i njeni prijatelji bili su nestrpljivi da ga što prije posjete. Zimi niko nije išao do jezera Krupac, jer je bilo suviše hladno. Ali uskoro, pošto je novi bazen bio gotovo spreman, stanovnici Nikšića moći će da uživaju u plivanju tokom cijele godine. Marija je prebacila torbu preko ramena, glasno pozdravila roditelje i krenula prema centru grada. Trebalo je da se sretne sa prijateljima. Toliko toga su imali jedni drugima da ispričaju. „Pariz?“, uzviknula je Teodora kada su ugrabile sto u lokalnom kafiću. „Kako ćemo putovati? A što je važnije, kada krećemo?“ „Obećajmo da ćemo krenuti što prije budemo mogle“, rekla je Marija. „Toliko toga ćemo imati da vidimo!“ „Ajfelovu kulu“, rekla je Anja. „Svi moraju da se popnu na vrh i da odozgo pogledaju Francusku.“ Milica se smiješila dok je od slamki iz milkšejka pravila kulu. „Zvuči zabavno. Posebno ako budemo imale priliku da jedemo puževe!“ Marija se zgrozila i uhvatila za stomak. „Ali neću ja. Puževi treba da budu na zemlji, oni ne pripadaju stolu.“
48 ‘I agree with Marija,’ said Anja. ‘We could ride bikes along the Seine. Talk in French. Laugh in French –’ ‘Dream in French,’ interrupted Milica. ‘Think about it. Where else in the world could be so exciting?’ ‘London,’ said Marija, draining the bottom of her strawberry milkshake. ‘It’s the heart of fashion, music and dance.’ ‘OK,’ said Teodora excitedly. ‘Apart from London, then. How about New York? Barcelona?’ Yes! Yes! Yes! The girls wanted to go everywhere but coming up with a shortlist wasn’t easy. Each place was filled with adventure, history, and excitement. The world was out there waiting for them.
49 „Slažem se sa Marijom“, rekla je Anja. „Možemo da vozimo bicikle duž Sene. Da govorimo francuski. Da se smijemo na francuski način...“ „Da sanjamo na francuskom“, prekinula ju je Milica. „Razmislite o tome. Koje bi drugo mjesto na svijetu moglo da bude uzbudljivije?“ „London“, rekla je Marija, ispijajući svoj milkšejk sa jagodama. „To je srce mode, muzike i plesa.“ „OK“, rekla je Teodora uzbuđeno. „A, osim Londona, šta mislite o Njujorku? Barseloni?“ Da! Da! Da! Djevojčice su svuda željele da pođu, ali nije bilo lako napraviti izbor. Svako mjesto bilo je ispunjeno istorijom i nudilo razne avanture. Svijet je bio tamo vani i čekao na njih.
50 Chapter VI Parisian Dreams That night, Marija picked up her pencil and began to draw the Eiffel Tower. Dark pencil strokes created a tall metal frame, a splash of colour filled in the French flag swaying at the top. Her eyes drifted shut as the dreamy smells of Paris floated over her… The school bus arrived in the heart of Paris. Marija and her friends stepped off, just outside of the famous Notre Dame Cathedral. Golden statues adorned its majestic doorway, guarding it with their heavenly smiles. The Seine was a bustle of river boats and barges; tour guides sold trips to the Eiffel Tower, Disneyland, and the Moulin Rouge. Paris was full of life, exactly how the girls imagined. ‘Come on!’ shouted Marija running down a side alley towards a market place full of bright paintings and crafts. Milica hurried to keep up. ‘Where are we going?’ The girls were excited and didn’t know what to stop and look at first. ‘The Eiffel Tower!’ ‘The Champs-Élysées?’ ‘Louvre? ‘I need to buy a hat,’ called Marija. ‘A purple hat.’ ‘Demi … Demi Lovato,’ sang the girls as they skipped over the cobbles. ‘Maria wants a Lovato hat!’ Honey-coated nuts were being tossed on a burner, golden popcorn sprang around inside a glass machine. Ice creams, of every flavour, were sold in caramel cones with small French flags planted into the tops. Paris smelt, and looked, delicious. The girls dug deep into their pockets and bought as much as they could. When they could eat no more, they moved on to shopping. Colourful hats, jackets and clothes adorned dozens of rails and baskets. Parisian fashion was all around them. Anja twirled around with a pink feather scarf wrapped loose