Tales of Ghosts. Playing Another Reality. Edgar Allan Poe award. Alexandra Kryuchkova

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СКАЧАТЬ time – how many years? – I put off the important decision ‘for a while’.

      I took a picture of Katya against the backdrop of a stormy river and a boat. We signed an agreement that the organizers didn’t bear any responsibility for our lives and the like. After the briefing, we bravely rushed into ‘the battle’, not yet knowing that in one of the rapids, we were going to face, a tourist like us had recently died.

      The instructor’s name was Sam. Originally from Nepal, he spoke English and knew a few words in Russian. I saw Katya’s eyes light up.

      “Sam,” she exclaimed, “have you seen Kailash?!”

      “Oh, Kailash! This is a great mountain near my country!” Sam said proudly and looked up at the sky.

      At that moment we were surrounded by delightful landscapes of towering mountains. And, to be honest, I didn’t understand, what could be so extraordinary in some Kailash! There were a lot of mountains on Earth! I seemed to be the only one who hadn’t sung praises to Kailash yet.

      Our boat didn’t capsize in the end, although two men did fall out of it.

      ***

      We spent the next two days among the ruins of ancient towns.

      “I seem to be able to fly over to that column!” confessed Katya, standing on top of a nameless hill with the remains of a temple.

      “No, no, don’t try!” I stopped her.

      “And people of previous civilizations could fly! Just imagine, with the power of their own thoughts, they moved heavy stones and even mountains!”

      “Are you talking about Kailash again?! Change mountain! There are a lot of them in the world!”

      Katya pursed her lips in resentment and fell silent, but soon a local resident approached us, offering a parasailing, and I sent her to fly first over the sea, and then over the mountains.

      Katya was an outgoing girl. Yes, a girl…

      It would seem that her tragic life experience, many times greater than my own, should instantly turn any creature into an old one, however, Katya looked young and remained a child in her soul.

      She managed to combine the incongruous, was drawn to everything out of standard, loved extreme sports and sometimes, as it seemed to me, flirted with death. Katya was not afraid of it, she was afraid of… spiders! Can you imagine? Afraid of insects, but not of dying! Strong-willed and kind, smart and beautiful, that was already a rarity, and at the same time completely defenseless, she clearly needed a strong male shoulder nearby.

      Probably, I loved her, but I was afraid to admit it to myself … I was afraid of responsibility and of losing my own independence … I neither expressed my love openly nor pampered Katya.

      For example, when we went for a walk in the local evening bazaar, she saw a tiny multi-colored onyx pyramid.

      “Look, how beautiful it is!” Katya exclaimed. “Pyramids normalize, strengthen and focus energy, turning it in the right direction! They also translate the earthly into the heavenly! Every pyramid is real magic! They say the whole complex of mountains around Kailash is a city of various pyramids!”

      That pyramid cost a penny, but I defiantly ignored such a transparent hint. Why didn’t I buy Katya a piece of her coveted magic? I was already jealous of Katya to Kailash with all the fibers of my soul and absolutely indifferent to the pyramids, since I understood nothing in them. Highly likely, that not bought pyramid, as I think now, was my subconscious protest as a refusal to admit that Katya knew something I didn’t, that during our shared life she had become more well-read and advanced in the Otherworld, she had grown a lot, overtaken me in many ways…

      ***

      Returning to the hotel after a walk along the sea, we heard a sudden shout behind us and looked back. A man in a white T-shirt with the logo of a large travel company for some reason desperately waved his hands, looking at us point-blank. We froze, and the man ran up to us.

      “Have you forgotten about our night excursion?” he asked Katya.

      “What do you mean?” she wondered.

      “You bought it from me half an hour ago at the Sun Hotel!” the travel agent exclaimed and took out his notebook. “Here you are… Svetlana!”

      “No, you are confusing something. I’m not Svetlana, I’m Katya!”

      “Besides, my friend,” I felt like showing my importance, “we are from another hotel, and we are leaving tomorrow morning. So, we have no time for night excursions!”

      “Blimey! Sorry! It means the girl, settled in the Sun Hotel, is your exact copy!”

      The man apologized again and left.

      “A bad sign,” Katya said and became gloomy. “Copies are met shortly before the death of their original. Or beloved ones see the look-alikes of those who are about to die.”

      “Come on! You haven’t seen Svetlana!”

      However, it’s no use arguing with women. So, I decided…

      …yes, it was my decision! – that’s the trouble! – that’s why I’m still replaying our trip in my head day by day… I decided to cheer her up! Instead of proceeding to the room to get our luggage ready for the trip, I suggested extending the last night of our vacation by attending an outdoor entertainment show.

      That night, local dance groups made some performance on the territory of the hotel. Between dances, fakirs and other magicians demonstrated tricks, involving the tourists. Katya was clearly bored.

      “Are you dreaming of Kailash?” I asked, barely restraining myself so as not to be sarcastic.

      “Anyway, I need to get to it. They say whoever walks Kailash around 108 times will never come back on Earth! And I don’t want to incarnate anymore!”

      I got angry… and… – yes, it was me again! – when the fakir started inviting those who wanted to get a portion of adrenaline before going to bed, I pushed Katya to the stage.

      “Kailash will wait!” I said.

      Two guys in national costumes put Katya on the floor and covered her belly with a wooden board, and the third one, blindfolded, standing with his back to her, began to throw knives at Katya, over his shoulder, one by one, without a break. And they hit the board until another knife, flying by, crashed into the floor, and the one thrown next…

      Periodically replaying on my internal screen, like a video, both that evening and our years together, I blame myself more and more… Not for having sent Katya to the stage, because I didn’t wish her death at all! However, I got used so much to the constant presence of Katya somewhere nearby, that I stopped appreciating such a miracle in my life, so they took her away from me…

      Perhaps it was Kailash itself…

September 2003

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