Kostya arrived about an hour later. By then, darkness had settled over the city, and the snow covering the streets had taken on a smoky, bluish hue, as if it had never been truly white. Before we left, Denis handed me a plastic bottle, identical to the one he had used to rinse my blisters.
"What's in this? It wasn't hydrogen peroxide, was it?" I asked, wondering what I would do if the solution ran out—or if I found myself without it entirely. I twisted off the cap and sniffed, but detected no scent.
"No, it wasn't," he replied. "Honestly, it's nothing special. My mom insists on silver water—claims it helps with cuts, scrapes, and so on. Silver supposedly has antiseptic properties."
I rolled my eyes, ready to chalk it up to Drozdov Jr.'s naïve belief, but he surprised me with a shrug.
"You know, I don't really believe in it either. But it's always helped me after touching aconite. We don't have sinks in the store, and sticking your hand in the toilet… well, you get the idea. Not exactly ideal."
"So, if I touch aconite next time…"
"Just rinse it well with water. That's all you need."
"Thanks, Denis. For everything," I said, noticing that Kostya and the girls had already reached the car.
"Goodbye, Asya," Denis called after me.
***
I slid into the passenger seat beside my father. The car was still warm, the heat lingering from earlier. Quiet music played softly, and the sharp scent of pine air freshener filled the cabin—Kostya must have hung a new one from the rearview mirror, though it was barely distinguishable from the old.
Surprisingly, my father didn't mention the incident at all. Watching him, it was impossible to tell that Kostya had been worried. Instead, he smoothly shifted the conversation, asking the girls about school and the upcoming disco as though nothing had happened. Tanya and Dasha immediately launched into an enthusiastic discussion of the theme and their planned performance. Rostova even complained about having to argue with her mother and the parent committee, who insisted Halloween was a celebration of Satan.
"By the way, I've never really known the history of this holiday. Does anyone?" My father glanced in the rearview mirror at the classmates before returning his eyes to the road.
"Oh! Me!" Dasha exclaimed eagerly. She always became a miniature encyclopedia when the topic sparked her interest; otherwise, she vanished behind her usual shyness.
"Once, around the 10th century, if I'm not mistaken…" I smiled, trusting Dasha's knowledge. "The Celts held a harvest festival called Samhain. It was a major celebration for the time, marking the end of the harvest and giving people a brief respite before winter. Over long festivities, danger arose, and some believe this is how another element appeared: on the last day of October, at the junction of autumn and winter, the spirits of ancestors returned to the mortal world to check on their families. Not all came with goodwill: depending on a household's behavior over the year, an ancestor could punish the family, guiding them back onto the right path, or something of the sort. These spirits could roam among the living only until dawn. Over time, the story evolved into a frightening tale, and people wondered how to protect themselves.
"They devised a clever defense: to scare away one frightening creature, they pretended to be another. Bonfires were lit, costumes were donned, and people hoped to drive away unwelcome spirits. They sang, offered homage to the greats, and in this way, the holiday eventually became known as All Hallows' Day."
I watched my father as he listened, his forehead furrowed and eyebrows knitting together the longer Dasha spoke. He hadn't expected such a long and detailed explanation. When Dasha finally paused, considering her story complete, he asked:
"Wait, but how did the name Halloween come about? And where did the idea of worshiping Satan on this day originate?"
"I can't say for sure about the Satan part," Dasha admitted. "It's difficult to trace. Perhaps people misunderstood or simply didn't seek the history. In ancient times, that might make sense, but now, with the internet…" She paused meaningfully before continuing. "But the name itself is simple if you know a bit of English."
Kostya thought for a moment, nodding slowly. "Alright, tell me, maybe I'll understand."
"I'll simplify," Romanova said, slowly enunciating: "All hallow ees." It's Old English for "mass of all saints." Over time, the phrase shortened and became Halloween. As for when exactly, I don't know."
Kostya reflected silently for a moment. "Ah… that makes sense. Mostly. Still unclear why kids in other countries started dressing up and demanding candy."
"Probably some candy store owner got creative and started the tradition," Tanya suggested, and her guess sounded convincing.
"Maybe. We can only speculate. Unlike the Christmas tree, which is well documented," Kostya said.
"There's a history behind that too?" I asked, surprised.
"Of course, Asya," he said. Even without seeing her, I knew Dasha was smiling. "Decorating trees goes back centuries. The real surge, however, came when King George III's wife hosted a party and, following a German custom, ordered a tree decorated. Guests were so impressed that everyone wanted one at home. The elite copied the royal court, and those seeking status followed suit. Over time, it became a common tradition for every family. Oh, Uncle Kostya, we missed our turn!"
"You're right," Father waved his hand dismissively. "It's okay. We'll take the next turn. Don't worry—we haven't gone far. I know this area well."