We fly to Turkey on the second of May, the boy from fear overtaken to the hell - we go out last, and he only opens his eyes with the grimas of horror and asks "and the gondoliers there (shows his hand down, behind the illuminator) - is there?Good stewardesses begin to reassure them that gondoliers are Venice, Venice is in Italy, and Italy is a little different flight, and there another time somehow. And this pepper sits with crazy eyes and doesn’t want to go anywhere. And then the steward, who understood what the mistake was, desperately failed to leave the ship on time, said to him loudly - not the gondoliers, but the Langoliers, and we broke them in the Second World War in Berlin, don't remember what? I have never seen a man standing at peace in front of his eyes. But he walked down the stairs cautiously, as if remembering what King had there.