The Orange Good and the White Sun_2_prose

I had gotten an odd present for my birthday.
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?
I stopped and thought, and honestly I didn't know what to say.
The one silly conclusion hanging in my mind was if there is so much of death, then it must be good!
But then what is good? What is the Good?
I looked at it.
Something small, shining and orange, without any stable shape.
Something as innocent as probably I was a long time ago...
Or was I still?
Otherwise it couldn't get to me at all...
I took the Good and put it on the table.
It was looking at me with its pure blue eyes and waiting.
I don't know what happened to my voice because I whispered:
- You are right friend, but I don't really understand it.
- Why don't you understand?
- Why? - I turned around, - nobody does.
- Hm, - the Good stopped talking.

It kept silent till noon.
And it got confused when I invited it for lunch.
It started to ask me the questions again.
A funny and curious little one which was itself a proof that anything good cannot be bigger than this my odd orange friend.
So, I realized that it didn't need food.
- Why do you eat? - the Good queried, - for what?
- Well, everybody has to eat to be alive.
- What is alive?
- Mmm, alive is not dead... - I wished I didn't say it.
- The death... again death... death, - the Good was repeating this word being climbing on the cabinet.

- Hey little one! Come down! - I called it when I finished lunch but it was silent, - ok, as you wish!
It stayed there till the end of the day.
I called it a few more times and then left it alone.

The Good woke me in the morning:
- You know, the stars sometimes also didn't understand me, but they used to say why. When the sun threw me to the space, the stars were so glad that they finally had somebody to talk to... you know, they are very talkative! You can't imagine how easily they get bored if they have to keep quiet for a few minutes. Ah, so they were so happy to have me. But since that moment I was thrown to the space, the sun became white. And it will be white forever. It was already too tired.
I suddenly figured out that the bright orange colour of my friend had become paler.
- What's wrong with you? - I asked, but it didn't answer.

It was getting lighter and lighter day after day.
I didn't hear its clear and infectious laughter anymore.
The Good was getting more and more quiet and passive.
Then I realized that it was sick.
I didn't know how to treat it, I have never treated the Good.

I left it on the shelf and went to the pharmacy for some advice in this strange situation.
When I came back, I didn't find the light-orange blemish among the books.
The window was opened and there was a mark on the windowsill.
I realized that the Good had flown away.
Perhaps, the stars were calling for it.
I looked at the sun.
It was the same white.
And suddenly I imagined the whole Universe with the white sun in the middle and a little orange Good that was jumping from one planet to another.
And the whole Universe was its home.

It has been many years since the Good left me, but I'm still waiting for it.
Maybe it will come back...
Not forever...
I know it can't live in our world...
But just for a while, to see each other.
And I look at the white sun, and I hear its whispering: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And I ask for how long should I wait, but it just repeats: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And something ugly hides from me the white sun...
It's hanging and laughing in the clouds.
And I'm pretty sure that the Good will come back.
It won't forget me.
But what if it can't find my house or my city?
When I think of it I feel so cold and scared.
It might be that a little orange Good is walking now somewhere on this planet.
So, if you meet it, please say that I'm missing my little friend.
Perhaps, it doesn't know what it is “to miss”, but it doesn't matter.
It will ask you: “What is missing?”, and maybe the white sun will smile and become yellow again.