Название: Mission 777 Possible
Автор: Marina Sprouz
Издательство: Издательские решения
isbn: 9785006433045
isbn:
“Thank you, Nastya. I thought you wouldn’t call.”
“It’s evening in London, and almost night here,” said Marianna.
“That’s right,” replied Nastya.
Then Nastya asked about me, but there wasn’t much to say except about my hospital. Nastya always talked very little about herself, almost nothing.
That was the end of the conversation.
Marianna was in the kitchen with her grandmother.
Her grandmother said,
“You see, Nastya calls, she’s not proud. You should appreciate that.”
“Why would she be proud?” Marianna said, pouring tea. “But it turns out that if Nastya made it abroad, she is better than me and should be proud.”
Grandma probably thinks that once you go abroad, you become a master, a great person. She thinks that way because she lived her whole life in the Soviet Union, never traveling abroad.
That’s true, but here I am, and no one will help me go anywhere. To start with, there’s no money. And Nastya can’t help with that.
Under the Ceiling
Angelinka was simply an angel. A nineteen-year-old girl, kind, attracting others with her pure gaze and genuine smile. It was she who invited me to their community of believers.
New Year’s Eve. A long wooden table, with all the believers sitting around it. Marianna felt like an outsider among them, just sitting and observing what everyone was doing. On the table, there were glasses of compote and plates of food. The lead pastor was quoting words from the Bible, then there were games, believers moving around and constantly talking. It felt like my head was in a vise, and I just continued to sit there.
A few days later, Angelinka invited me to her place.
We were sitting in a large room, the living room. She brought out her delicacies and set the table. There was canned food, sausage, vegetables from a jar, and, of course, tea. It was peaceful being with her; she was good. It didn’t happen suddenly, and I wasn’t even surprised: on the upper left side of my field of vision, an image appeared. Above the living room floor, as if in the air, under the ceiling, in a golden halo, was Jesus Christ. He was looking at me from above. He wore a long garment covering his body, as if he were in golden rays or a golden cocoon. Then I thought, perhaps he is looking at me, a sinner, observing what I am doing… I didn’t say anything to Angelinka, and what I saw gradually began to fade from my memory.
Here’s how we are!
Sometimes people take pride in their social status, their position, or what they have that others do not. They stand out from the crowd and want to exclaim proudly: “Look at us! We’re special!”
Marianna was at her mother’s memorial service. Relatives had gathered. Her grandfather’s sister, now elderly and leaning on a cane, sat in a chair. Other relatives surrounded her, listening to her monologue. Marianna stood in the doorway, overhearing their conversation.
“Now I will tell you what kind of people we are!” proudly declared her grandfather’s sister.
“My son is the chief doctor of the clinic and the district! And I’ve worked my whole life as the chief doctor of the village!” continued the grandmother. Then, with all the significance she could muster, she raised her head majestically and exclaimed, “Here’s how we are!”
Marianna silently noted that she wanted everyone to know, bursting with pride. She chuckled to herself so no one would notice. From then on, in various situations throughout her life, Marianna remembered that phrase: “Here’s how we are!”
Grandmother Klavdiya
Grandfather Anton had departed to the other world. Six months passed… Marianna visited Grandmother Klavdiya.
“Why don’t they allow visits…” Grandmother Klavdiya sadly lowered her face onto the table. Marianna looked at her sitting at the table.
Indeed… I never thought about that. It’s very cruel not to allow visits with departed loved ones, never! Notice – never to see them again.
Only memories come alive…
Losses, living with pain…
Who is to blame? You don’t know.
Where’s the place? To endure…
There, crows are flying…
They are still circling,
And they tell us the truth,
They speak to the soul.
That moment – cannot be returned,
That minute – cannot be regained!
Freedom is like a bird,
But this path is difficult.
Before the fateful meeting
Year 2000.
Marianna lives in her small town called Semivetrinsk.
How slow everything is here… The tram moves slowly, people board the bus slowly, they rush slowly, even thoughts move slowly.
I was doing my internship, practical training after college.
I planned to visit Kharkiv for a day or two.
Hotel room. Peeling walls, wallpaper coming off in places, dust on the wardrobe, and Marianna standing near the wardrobe.
What’s happening… Images pierce her consciousness, head, with difficulty, she tries to discern, closes her eyes. I see a girl, her face, by the sea, something shiny on her chest, large like a round locket, glinting, and her face gleaming in the sunlight’s rays, she squints. The images stopped piercing and disappeared.
Marianna reads Kharkiv newspapers, advertisements. She looks at one advertisement: “Black wizard predicts, removes the crown of spinsterhood.”
Like in a dream, Marianna dials the number and calls. A voice on the phone said to Marianna, “Let’s meet at Cold Mountain.”
Meeting with Bulgakov
Marianna loved Kharkiv, as it was where her student years had passed. As her teacher used to say, “These are the best years.” Now during her internship, everyone had scattered in different directions. Marianna popped into a bakery, strolled through the center of Kharkiv, bought a bundle of fish (taranka) in case she got hungry later. She was dressed in a light green blouse with frills on the shoulders that tied at the bottom like a scarf with flowing tips.
It was summer. Everything sang СКАЧАТЬ