An Old Oak-tree Secret. Chapter 6. Magical Crosroad.

The Story of the Magic Crossroads
Rostik, Mila, and Rada had been waiting for this day. Today Aunt Sveta’s husband, Uncle Lyonya, promised to show the kids his hobby. He invited them to a real cartography workshop, where he and his friends create maps for tourists, students, and even geologists. As boys, they used to meet, go on little adventures, make plans, and draw their first maps. When they got older, they started going on real hikes and realized there weren’t many good maps, especially for places that weren’t popular with tourists. So they came up with an idea to create their own “Travelers Club.” That was the name of their first “office” in a shed in one friend’s yard.

Now, in their free time, they met in a small house on one of the friend’s plots and created maps together.

Uncle Lyonya promised to show how real road maps are made and explain why there are so many symbols, lines, and rules on every map.

Rostik’s dad explained how to get to the workshop. It was close to their house, at the end of the street. Cars didn’t drive through their street now, and everyone in the area knew each other, so the kids agreed with the adults that they would walk there on their own.

Mila and Rada had just sat down for breakfast when Rostik ran onto the terrace.

“Good morning!” he said cheerfully.

“We won’t be late, right?” Rada asked, fidgeting on her chair.

“We won’t,” Rostik said confidently. “Dad said the walk takes only five minutes.”

Aunt Sveta made pancakes with strawberry jam and warm linden tea. She invited Rostik to have breakfast with the girls. He couldn’t refuse something so tasty — her pancakes were famous in the whole village. He joined them gladly and ate with great pleasure.

“Yes, it’s very close,” Aunt Sveta confirmed, putting another fresh pancake on the big plate. “But the walk will take a little longer now. The usual path is under repair. They’re fixing the water supply and laying new pipes. I’ll go with you to show the way, just let me finish these pancakes. You go ahead, I’ll catch up in a couple minutes.”

The kids finished breakfast and stepped outside the gate. And then an argument began.

“Let’s go the old short way,” suggested Rostik. “It’ll be faster.”

“But Aunt Sveta said we can’t,” Mila whispered. “And yes, I remember — there’s a sign that says ‘No Entry.’ And she’ll get worried if she comes out and doesn’t see us where we agreed to meet.”

“All these signs are for adults,” Rostik waved his hand. “We’ll be careful. Look, there’s a beaten path. People walk there.”

“But Dad says rules aren’t just signs, they’re protection,” Rada said stubbornly. “If it says not to go there, there’s a reason.”

But Rostik already stepped forward.

“Fine. If you’re scared, go the long way. I’ll go alone.”

Mila looked at Rada, then at Rostik. She didn’t want to split up.

“Maybe we just run through quickly?” she asked.

But the moment they walked a few steps into the closed-off area…

BANG!

Some boards fell with a loud crash right in front of them — and behind them — blocking both the entrance and the exit.

“Oh!” Mila squeaked and grabbed Rada’s hand.

“I told you,” Rada whispered, turning pale.

Rostik tried to lift one of the fallen boards, but it was too heavy.

“What do we do now?” Now he was truly scared.

The kids sat down on a broken pallet and huddled together.

It felt uncomfortable and strangely cold, even though the sun was shining. They stayed silent for a long time.

Until, suddenly, as if from under the ground, an old man appeared. Very small, with a gray beard. It was the same Gnome they recently befriended near their oak tree. Only now he was dressed like a real construction worker — a vest with reflective stripes and a heavy whistle around his neck.

“What visitors wandered into my crossroads?” he asked strictly, raising an eyebrow. “I put up a sign. A red one. With an exclamation mark. Why didn’t you read it?”

“We…” Rostik began, but couldn’t finish.

“I wanted to take a shortcut… I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “I thought it was just a piece of paper. That nothing bad could happen.”

“Right, ‘nothing bad’,” the old man shook his head. “Until the ground collapses, or something falls on your head, or you slip and fall into a pit. This isn’t just a pipeline repair — this is a magic crossroads.”

“Magic?” the girls said together.

“Of course. Paths and roads meet here, but so do decisions. Every rule is like a signpost. Break it — and you can get lost.”

“We… got lost?” Mila whispered.

“Almost. But you still have a chance to fix it. I’ll ask each of you one question. If you answer right, you’ll get out. And not just get out — you’ll leave with something important.”

“We agree!” the kids said at once.

“Good. First question for Rostik: why do people create rules?”

Rostik thought. Then answered quietly:

“So everyone knows how to act… and doesn’t get in each other’s way. And so no one gets hurt.”

“Correct,” the old man nodded. “Rules are like a map. Without one, everyone walks their own way, and then people get lost or crash into each other.”

Now he turned to Mila:

“What should you do if you want to break a rule when no one is looking?”

Mila blushed. But she answered:

“Think about why the rule exists. And imagine what could happen. Even if no one sees you… it can still be dangerous.”

“Well done!” the old man smiled. “That’s real wisdom.”

“And now Rada. If a friend breaks a rule, what do you do: stay silent or speak up?”

Rada didn’t hesitate:

“Speak up. Real friends protect each other. Even if it’s not pleasant.”

“Excellent!” the old man said and blew his whistle.

At that moment, the boards blocking the path rose back into place, as if lifted by a magical hand.

“Remember, kids,” said the Gnome, “rules aren’t there to limit you — they’re there to protect you. They’re like a bridge: if you walk on it, you’ll reach your goal. If you jump side to side, you can fall. Now go. You have an excursion waiting. I’m sure you’ll see something interesting. And when your treehouse is finished, I’ll visit you with bagels and tell you more funny and useful stories. Including about rules.”

The kids happily ran out of the construction zone, thanked the old man loudly (although he seemed to vanish again), and within minutes they were standing at the door of Uncle Lyonya’s workshop.

“It’s good we chose the right path,” Rada sighed.

“We didn’t…” Rostik corrected her. “But now we will. Always.”

“Even if everyone else runs through bushes and construction sites?” Mila asked.

“Even if everyone does. Because now we know: when you break rules, you lose not only your path but also your safety. But when you follow them, you find order, confidence, and most important — you keep your friends safe.”

And that day Uncle Lyonya added one more phrase, just as important as the Gnome’s words:

“Maps aren’t drawn to look pretty. They exist so everyone can reach their goal without getting lost or ending up in trouble.”