The Gems of Siberia. Tamara Bulevich

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      When the commission left, Ignat was still smiling. His soul quietly rejoiced. He complimented his men for their work. This was not typical of him.

      In the evening, when he came home, he began the cleaning. He liked the order and was not lazy to keep the house clean. He did not like painted floors. Once a year, he polished floorboards, and then, once a week, he washed them to amber purity of ash water of larch. The floorboards shone, breathing warmth and comfort. The owner never wore shoes in the house. He asked his guests to take off their shoes in the inner porch.

      He was washing the last step of the porch when he heard that somebody opened the gate. The mailwoman Nyusya stood on the paved path. «What on Earth is she doing here?!» – his face reflected extreme inner irritation and displeasure. His benevolent mood immediately disappeared.

      – Good evening, Ignat Grigoryevich!

      – Good evening…

      He said not very pleasantly. Nyusya timidly approached the porch. Ignat slowly wrung out the floorcloth and hung it carefully on the hook to dry. Nyusya gave him her untidy hand, but he pretended that he did not notice and asked her stiffly:

      – What do you have for me?

      Nyusya opened her canvas, with black leather on the inside, bag, which she did not wash for a long time, and looked through some papers.

      – Where did I put it?!

      – Did you lose something?

      He did not even expect that Nyusya really brought something for him. He did not have any family members alive. He only exchanged greeting cards with friends from work and college on Navy Day and the New Year’s Day.

      – So, why did you come?!

      The indignant Ignat almost shouted, approaching the mailwoman closely and preparing, as before, to show her the way.

      – Fie, Nyusya! You stink denatured alcohol, like a vagabond.

      – Why do you care? Playing saint of yourself… Why do you think you are better than me?

      – You are right. Once we used to be the same. But now there is a difference between us. I made an effort and changed my life. Though, I washed off my past for a long time and still do. And you should look out! Otherwise, you will get stuck in this. Although, that’s not my business.

      Ignat became silent, and Nyusya malevolently picked up their gloomy conversation.

      – Yes, that’s not your business! I am not your wife or your lover that you dare to raise your voice.

      – God forbid! I was a fool once, – he marked himself with the sign of the cross.

      – So, I see that you remember our golden years. You liked me even being drunk.

      Ignat grated his teeth, his face flushed.

      – Why do you care, whom I remember or not! At least, you should try not to drink alcohol when you are at work. You can inadvertently lose the bag or give it for the bottle of alcohol.

      – Why should I abstain? Smart people say abstinence can be harmful. And it is already evening. I do not meet people in the office. I work in the open air. Yesterday, I was chasing you, like a fool, around the village. I asked the person on duty at the station about you.

      – Why would I be there? That’s not my office.

      – I came to your house twice. It was closed. I do not need to go in the darkness to the forest. I am paid peanuts for my work. It is not even enough to buy shoes. I already wore this one out. As you can see, I do not have lazy bones. I deliver mail at two stations, Minino and Snezhnitsa, twice a week. And the streets there are not like in the city.

      And, after a pause, she had a change of heart. The drunken smile spread across her sallow, wrinkled face:

      – Old sinful love makes me follow you, damn cheater. You live miles from nowhere.

      She took out the contents of the bag, put it on the platform with geraniums and began to nervously look through newspapers, packages and letters.

      – Do not tell me a sob story. I will not buy it. And if you do not have enough money… for shoes, then forget about parties and drinking, look for a better job. Work more than two days a week.

      Knowing Nyusya, Ignat would not give her even a ruble out of sympathy or pity: she would immediately spend it on alcohol with her drinking companions. Especially, he was not going to explain to her why he stayed late at work.

      – Here is another silly woman, who wants to have fun with you. She wants you to come to her. That’s something! How I could miss that. It is your deary wifey. You were so infatuated with her that, having suffered a great deal, fooled around with me and with a dozen of same homeless women, philanderer!

      Nyusya repeatedly stroke his nerve.

      – What are talking about, crazy woman!

      – Nothing!

      He began to shiver, his eyelid was treacherously twitching after talking to the hated woman.

      – Here it is. It was stuck in the batch of newspapers. Urgent, with notice. Even if I did not want to, I would have to hand it to you.

      Ignat impatiently wanted to snatch the telegram out of the dirty hands of Nyusya.

      – Stop it! You are a man! You need to sign the papers first. You know, it’s our usual routine.

      He put his signature and began to read, not seeing or understanding anything plainly.

      – Well, Ignat Grigoryevich, I should go, – Nyusya stood, waiting for acknowledgements.

      – Go, go… I guess, your buddies are already waiting for you.

      He took Nyusya by the arm, as if she was stuck in the mud, and showed his ex-girlfriend the way. He hastily went to the house, washed his hands with soap, took his glasses from the bookshelf, and carefully wiped them. He read almost letter-by-letter:

      «Address: Snezhnitsa Station, Krasnoyarsk Krai.

      To: Dyomin Ignat Grigoryevich.

      Prefix: Urgent! With the specification of the place of residence of the addressee».

      And then there was the text: «I am waiting for you in the city of Novosibirsk, 9 Proletarskaya Street, apartment 17. Send me a telegram on the departure. We will meet you. Dyomina Polina Egorovna».

      His mind was full of noise, as vernal water of the River Minka, his cheeks were burning more than in the sauna, and his heart was beating so that the shirt on his chest was shaking. «One can get a stroke». Having taken the unfinished since the May holidays bottle of vodka out of the cupboard, he filled the faceted glass and drank it in one gulp.

      He did not do this for quite some time. Nobody saw him drunk in Snezhnitsa. Becoming tipsy, he cried and read, cried again and read again the telegram, not believing his eyes.

      «What a twist of fate. It takes one out of the frying pan and into the fire. In a year I will turn sixty, and, I feel that I will be tied up in the court. «We will meet you»… I СКАЧАТЬ