Anya didn’t even notice when new tenants moved into the apartment of old Baba Katya, who had passed away. She simply bumped into them one morning on the landing. She was locking her door when the neighboring one opened: first a man appeared, followed by a little boy with an enormous backpack hanging off his shoulders. First grader, Anya thought and decided to say hello. For as long as she could remember, that was the custom in their building — everyone greeted each other. Not just on this landing, but throughout the whole house. One building, one courtyard; everyone knew everyone else.
“Hello,” Anya smiled at the boy, who peered at her from under his brows. A little sparrow, she thought involuntarily.
“Hello,” the man replied.
“Are you the new tenants?” Anya immediately felt silly — it was obvious who they were — but she wanted to keep the conversation going. Her neighbor didn’t seem in the mood to chat; he answered curtly:
“Yes,” and then turned to the boy, “Sanya, let’s go faster or we’ll be late.”
Anya watched them go. Something about them troubled her; it felt as if the man and the child weren’t really together, almost strangers to each other.
Anya, it’s none of your business, she told herself. Who knows what’s going on with them… No, what nonsense am I thinking? The child goes to school; surely they’ve checked all the documents…
Autumn dragged on with rain and cold wind. Anya occasionally saw her neighbors in the mornings. Always the same:
“Hello. Hi, Sanya.”
Only the father replied.
Once, she called Sanya “Sashenka,” and the boy’s upper lip quivered; his father hugged him close and, without looking at Anya, said quietly:
“Sanya. And he doesn’t speak.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Anya stammered. The whole day at work she replayed the moment in her head. Maybe his mother used to call him Sashenka? And he doesn’t speak… poor child…
One dreary autumn evening, the doorbell tore Anya away from her TV series. She had made herself some pancakes, opened a jar of strawberry jam, settled comfortably on the couch, and had just lifted a pancake to her mouth when the bell rang. With regret, she put the pancake aside. Behind the door stood her neighbor, looking worried.
“Excuse me…”
“Anna…”
“What?” the man didn’t understand.
“My name is Anna,” she clarified.
“Oh, right… sorry, Anna, do you happen to have a thermometer? I think Sanya has a fever, and ours broke…”
He kept talking, but Anya was already rushing to the medicine cabinet.
“Come in,” she called. She grabbed the thermometer and, just in case, some fever medicine. When she turned back, she saw him looking at the stack of pancakes. Probably hasn’t even had time to eat. And when would he cook? Anya put a few pancakes aside for herself and handed the rest to him. He looked embarrassed.
“Take them, quickly. The best medicine is pancakes. And here’s some jam. Let’s go take care of the patient,” Anya commanded. The man smiled, and Anya noticed he was quite handsome.
Sanya still looked at Anya askance. But since Dad was there, it was okay to trust this strange lady. The fever wasn’t high, but Anya advised calling the doctor anyway.
The man nodded in agreement:
“Tomorrow I’ll call from work…”
“From work?” Anya was surprised. “Who’s going to stay with the child? Who’s going to open the door for the doctor?”
“He’s used to it… I have to work. Sanya’s grown-up. He’ll manage.”
Anya was firm:
“No. What’s your patronymic?”
“Sergey…”
“All right, Sergey. No. If you’re not worried about leaving your son alone, then I’ll worry myself sick! I won’t have it.”
“Anna, I understand what you mean. But we have no grandmothers, aunts, no relatives. And the ones we have live far away. I have to work. Sanya…”
“Sergey, wait,” Anya interrupted. “Think about it: a pediatrician will come tomorrow and find a small sick child alone at home. How do you think she’ll react? Here’s what we’ll do — I’ll swap shifts and stay with Sasha tomorrow.”
“You’ll have to work a night shift after?” Sergey asked quietly.
“That’s none of your concern,” Anya cut him off. “Tomorrow at eight I’ll be at your place.”
That’s how Sanya’s sick week flew by. He still didn’t speak but listened with interest to Aunt Anya. He adored her pancakes and cutlets. At first he was shy, then he really dug in. For the first time, Anya’s eyes burned with tears watching him eat. Suddenly she stroked the boy’s head: My little sparrow. He froze, his eyes filled with tears, and then he suddenly burst into sobs. Anya got scared:
“What’s wrong, what’s wrong, my little one? Don’t cry…”
Sanya recovered. In the mornings, the neighbors still occasionally met on the landing. Now with smiles. Only Sanya remained silent. And so they lived until winter. One day, Anya returned home from work with heavy grocery bags, scolding herself for buying too much. Sanya was taking out the trash; he saw Aunt Anya and silently tugged at one of the bags.
“Sanya, it’s heavier than you are,” Anya said with pleasure at his offer to help. But he stubbornly pulled the bag to himself.
“All right,” Anya gave in. “But if you get tired, stop and rest.”
Surprisingly, Sanya carried the bag without trouble. It was Anya who lagged behind, again berating her foolishness.
“Oh, Sanya, you’re my hero,” she finally sighed. “And heroes deserve a reward. Wait.” Anya pulled out a chocolate bar she had bought and handed it to him. The boy’s eyes lit up and he… smiled. It was the best reward for Anya. But she hadn’t even taken off her boots when the doorbell rang. Sergey stood there holding the same chocolate bar.
“Anna, you’re spoiling Sanya.”
“Are you serious?” Anya suddenly got angry. “For your information, this chocolate bar is a hero’s reward!”
“A reward? For a hero?” Sergey looked at her, puzzled.
“Go ahead, lift that bag! Heavy? Now imagine how Sanya managed to carry it. And he offered his help himself.”
“On his own? Did he… talk?” There was so much hope in Sergey’s eyes that Anya felt uncomfortable.
“No… he just came up and took the bag.” Sergey’s eyes dimmed. “Sergey, don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
“Thank you,” he answered, sounding lost, and left her apartment.
Anya’s birthday came at the end of November. After receiving congratulations and bouquets at work, she walked home in high spirits. A woman was coming out of the entrance, holding Sanya’s hand. His school backpack hung behind him. Late for school, Anya thought.
“Hello. Hi, Sanya,” she greeted them. “Where’s your dad?”
“That’s what I’d like to know — where’s his dad,” the woman replied reproachfully.
“Excuse me, who are you?”
“I’m his teacher… His father always picked Sasha up on time, but today he didn’t come and doesn’t answer his phone. What am I supposed to do, take him to my place? And the child doesn’t speak… I’ve told his father many times to transfer him to a special school…”
Anya didn’t like the teacher.
“You know what… Sasha will stay with me for now.”
“Are you sure?” the teacher asked, though it was clear she was glad to be rid of the burden.
“Sanya, I don’t have kids, so change into your PE clothes. Good thing you have them with you. We’ll eat now and have tea with cake. Do you like cake? Me too. Tomorrow’s a day off. Got homework? We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Asking questions and sometimes answering herself, Anya kept talking to Sanya. Sometimes he looked at her intently, even nodded a couple of times. Anya rejoiced — small steps toward a big victory.
When the boy fell asleep, Anya took his phone. It had only one contact saved: DAD. Anya copied it into her phone. She called several times — the subscriber was out of range. She sent a text that Sanya was with her. Anxiety for Sergey gripped her. God, let everything be all right!
In the morning, her phone rang. It was Sergey.
“Sergey!” Anya nearly screamed. “Where are you?” She was so worried she didn’t notice she switched to “you.”
“Anna,” Sergey’s voice was strained, “I’m in the hospital…”
“What? What happened?” Anya lowered her voice; Sanya was sleeping.
“A car drove onto the sidewalk… Anna, please… Sanya…”
“Don’t worry, get well. Which hospital are you in? Sanya will stay with me.”
“Thank you… Just don’t tell him I’m sick… He still hasn’t recovered from his mom’s death…”
Anya felt faint. How much had this child endured? How could she help him?
She told Sanya his dad had a lot of work and was far away for now. Sergey called his son, spoke to him, but Sanya only listened.
Anya took two weeks off. She took Sanya to school and picked him up. She walked with him. Played. They cooked together. And Sanya smiled more often, sometimes even laughed. Anya told Sergey about all this when she visited him in the hospital. He began to look at his neighbor differently.
“And we also bought Christmas ornaments with Sasha. He picked them himself. Sergey, you should have seen how excited he was.”
“Anya, thank you. I don’t know how I would have managed without you.” Sergey hugged her and she froze.
“You would have managed,” she replied, looking into his eyes. They both understood — this was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.
“Sanya, Daddy will come in two days,” Anya and Sanya were scrubbing the apartment. “He’ll come and see everything spotless. We’ll also go shopping; your fridge is empty.”
Winter is treacherous. Sometimes it dumps snow, sometimes it turns into a skating rink. Anya slipped and fell. Her vision went black for a moment, and then her consciousness was pierced by Sanya’s cry:
“Mom! Mom!” Sanya fell to his knees beside her and tried to help her up. He sobbed, repeating over and over:
“Mom! Mom!”
Anya, feeling the pain in her leg, tried to sit up. A passerby helped her:
“Sasha, my little one, Sasha,” Anya cried, kissing the boy.
Fortunately, it was only a bad sprain. But they couldn’t meet Sergey as planned. Anya decided not to tell him Sanya had started speaking. And the boy chattered nonstop, as if pouring out all the words he hadn’t said for so long.
Anya persuaded Sanya to surprise his dad.
Sanya opened the door for his father himself. Anya’s leg still hurt.
Sergey crouched in front of his son, hugged him, and suddenly—
“Papa…”
Sergey couldn’t believe it:
“What? Say it again…”
“Papa… Papa, hi…”
“Sanya!” the father shouted, lifting and spinning him. Sanya squealed and laughed. Anya watched, wiping away tears. Sergey stopped, hugged his son close, looked at Anya:
“Thank you…”
They celebrated New Year together. Sanya was the happiest of all — he had a mom again!
