Lonely Place America. Novel-in-Stories. Irina Borisova

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СКАЧАТЬ an architect. It was very difficult to find an architectural job in St. Petersburg while no new buildings were constructed. However there were lots of phone numbers of architectural studios in my thick business telephone directory. Masha settled on my couch and started copying numbers and addresses. Lady clients came and left, my husband – whom I at last made to transport bricks lying about the yard to our garage for its restoration – appeared periodically. At last he made his last trip, Masha copied her last address, we closed the office, sat into the car and drove home, having dropped Masha at the Fontanka river where she lived in her room.

      Next few days Masha called through the list. Her diligence was rewarded. The manager of one studio invited her to come, and a miracle happened – Masha was accepted!

      True that later Masha learned that almost all the staff of that studio left the service themselves as they were not paid wages for already half a year. But Masha was too happy that time she could call herself an architect again to notice such details.

      It was turn to arrange her personal life. Being deceived in a rotten classical way Masha did not wish to believe in anybody but I told her that if she really wished to have children and family she just had to take steps in that direction. I gave her many instructive examples when success was the result of will and faith. Being inspired, Masha went to our local personals newspaper and ordered to publish her personal ad.

      She got lots of letters. She had to make a special card-index with names and phone numbers of candidates. She started to spend all her evenings calling men, dating them, crossing out the list or ticking off and including new ones.

      All the candidates were very different. Those who seemed most suitable were brought to my office for my consideration. Masha wished to know someone’s opinion.

      The most interesting candidate was a young architect, Konstantin. Masha was excited he was an architect too. He was very handsome and intelligent and he came from a very good family. Masha liked him, she asked me to try my best to make a good impression so the young man would appreciate Masha’s nice and intelligent friends.

      I tried to prepare for this visit. When they both came I offered coffee and started an easy conversation about arts and literature. It turned out that the young man also wrote poetry. I asked him to read something, he did, of course I admired it. The young man was excited and impressed. I asked him to tell us more about himself; he did it with great pleasure. I managed to transfer conversation to the theme of loneliness, suggesting how nice it would be if Konstantin shared it with someone. Masha looked down in modest silence, I talked with inspiration, Konstantin listened with his eyes shining. It was the niciest evening.

      On the next day Masha called me and said that Konstantin asked my telephone number.

      «What for?» I asked.

      «He wished to talk again with you about literature. It seems you made too good impression on him,» said Masha coolly.

      «But you yourself asked to show your nice surroundings!» I exclaimed.

      «Yes, but it seems you tried too much…» Masha said sarcastically, and muttering oh, bother!, I asked her to tell him I left the city forever or got cold. I was punished for this lie having really caught cold in a few days.

      Masha was a kind girl, so she forgave me. Very soon she asked me to regard another candidate who raised her doubts..

      That one was a huge man, I already don’t remember his name. He brought a box of sweets and immediately had eaten two thirds himself. I tried to be as modest as I could, listening only to Masha. But when finishing off sweets the man bragged how experienced he was in getting around taxes in his business, I forgot all previous intents. I immediately asked him to explain me ways of avoiding taxes I did not yet know. He was also very interested in learning what I could share. When our mutual interest was satisfied I remembered about Masha: she was silently sitting on the couch and looking at me ironically.

      That person disappeared very soon too. Masha brought to me some candidates more. One of them played guitar and sang songs of his own composition so loudly that several days later I still could not listen to the radio. The other one sat in complete silence while Masha and I tried to amuse him, then he suddenly became red and invited Masha to go to his country house. When she refused he immediately left.

      Masha complained she was too tired of all these men and already desperate to find her right one.

      But after some time I suddenly noticed that Masha disappeared. She did not call any more and did not bring to me anybody. Some more time passed and I needed my telephone directory that Masha had taken again to look for another job as she had time to understand that it was hard to live without any wage even being called an architect.

      I called her, asked to bring the directory; she apologized, promised to come.

      And she came the same evening, brought the book but she was not alone. A black bearded man came with her. They did not look at each other, were very tense. When I looked at the man, his glance, given in answer, was almost unfriendly. Masha looked confused. I tried to talk to both of them but words stuck in my throat. Masha just gave me the book and they left.

      And I understood that something was going on between them. They left surrounded by the atmosphere of uncertainty and disarray. And indeed their further relationship was complicated and not easy but there was no place for any other people and their advices in it. Sometimes Masha came to me frustrated. Sometimes she called and even through telephone line I felt how happy she was. Much of everything happened with them yet. They married only in a year.

      Problems with Electricity

      That day a complete darkness met me in the entrance of the house where my office was situated. I could move only by touch. I thought that something happened with electricity and maybe soon it would be improved. Having gone out for lunch in the same darkness I met a person with the steps and tools in his hands and understood it was an electricity-man.

      «What happened?» I asked. «Why is it so dark at the stairs?»

      «There are buttons everywhere now.» he replied.

      «What buttons?» I did not understand.

      «Lighting buttons in each room,» he said. «You press it going out and the stairs are illuminated. The stairs are illuminated only when somebody goes out. If you wish to come in, you press the button downstairs. Don’t you know? Great economy.»

      «I have no such a button.» I said.

      «Then you did not order, you are guilty yourself.» he said without special expression.

      «Then will I always go out in the complete darkness?» I asked.

      He did not answer rising upstairs, demonstrating that the theme was over.

      «Hey, it cannot stay so!» I followed him, raising the voice. «Who invented it? How silly!»

      «So you prefer the stairs to be illuminated all the time?» he asked very caustic. I replied that though I could seem very impudent but I really would prefer. We argued a little bit more and though he finally called me a scandalous lady but at last agreed to switch on the button in my office too. He set it up without any delay though grumbling something concerning my character, then left promising to come to switch it on in the evening. I did not like this renovation СКАЧАТЬ