The Diary fragments 1 страница

The Twelfth floor.

There was nowhere hurry at all nor I did want to. The door I noticed shortly squeaked and half-opened on its own. Irresistible feeling to enter the door came into my mind, which I actually obeyed. Every room of the flat I found myself in was lit, there was no sound to be heard. I found myself in the room apparently belonging to someone who had a soft spot for teddy bears, fashion magazines and souvenirs. Various books and notebooks were on the shelves, under the glass there were congratulatory postcards, and photos of “Blestiashiye” and “Ruki wverh” bands. I sat at the desk pulling the drawer curiously; it was full of notebooks, rings, badges and hairpins. Most notebooks were full of naive love poems and felt pen drawn pictures. While I was scattering the notebooks over the desk, my concern about this person was vanishing gradually. As luck would have it a clean and plain notebook attracted my attention. I took it realizing that it could stop a train of questions running through my head.

The tired girl’s diary.

I have found the most valuable thing. The plain notebook appeared to be the mysterious householder’s diary. The first pages were torn out; few next pages were crossed by red felt pen.

The Diary fragments

Yesterday, I was at the disco party, it was terrific. I met a boy; his name is Lyosha (So handsome!). He approached me with the words: “Hey Lenka!” Just as if he had been knowing me for a long time. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. I fell in love with him immediately. We were dancing until the morning, however he did not see me home because he was deadly drunk. Another guy saw me home, his friend or something like that, he was washing my brains all the way home talking about books, a total freak. Short, stout, wearing big glasses, strange and very unattractive. He kept silent and smiling. He did not even dance, as if he did not know how to, whereas Lyosha was a dance floor star. My friends were so jealous! I won’t let him go especially after he has taken my number.

The next day

When is he going to call me? Looking forward to it and listen to my favorite band “Ruki wverh" It is five but he hasn’t called yet.

Adscript

Hurray! I love you “Ruki wverh” he has called me; we will meet today, looking forward to it!

The next day

It is five. I do not even remember what time it was when I came home. My parents have been at the dacha for a week, my flat is a mess, I don’t even know if I did the right thing. Was it all right to let him… it was my first time… He promised everything would be fine.

It is late, but he is not calling. I’ve called him several times but I got the wrong number. Into the bargain I have quarreled with my friend. I will not say anything else nor I want to. Late in the evening the phone rang, I gladly answered it but that was that freak – Lyosha’s friend. I sent him some place off. Now the freak is constantly calling me, keeping silent. Once he said, “I love you” and hanged up on. Such an idiot, what do they all want from me? I just need my Lyosha.

Adscript

My friends came. As usual we sat on the landing listening to “Ruki wverh”. I did like that band but somehow their songs and my so-called friends were filling me with disgust. I began to realize these people were just strangers for me.

The next day.

Where is my Lesha? I don’t even know where I can find him. I cry at night, I feel bad. I don’t want to trust anyone.

P.S.

That moron Vitalik is as I know now, appeared to be my neighbor! He ran past us with dustbin in his hands which made us hoot with laughter. I made it up with Oksana (My friend) and she promised to find Lyosha and make him talk to me. She is my best friend! We will stay together now and forever.

A week later.

Such a bitch you are, Oksana. I trusted you.

In the long run I got tired reading the girl’s thoughts. I tore out some pages, crumpled and put them into my pocket to read later. I negligently threw the diary on the table. It fell on tapes making them foully rattle. A drunk voice of a girl could be heard from the nextdoor room.

“Who is there?” I turned around to stare at the door in wait for the the owner of the voice. “Is it you, Denis?” The voice made it again apparently closer now. It became clear that soon I’d be found. I thought about what I’d tell her. Who am I and how I ended up in her flat. My mind failed me, I was at a loss for words. I could do nothing but stay and wait like a statue.

Next second she appeared on the threshold. She was about twenty-two, middle height and curvy. Her tousled chocolate red-tainted hair stuck up on end. She had headphones and Walkman fastened to her jeans shorts. Her tired green eyes were hidden under the fringe hanging down her chin. She had a half empty bottle of beer in her hand. She looked over the room, pulled at the bottle, made a burp and said:

“Nah. It is not the fucking Denis. It is my guardian angel!”

“Guardian angel?” I asked myself.

Without a note of my presence, she came to the desk wobbling, took her dairy and dropped into a chair. For some time she kept silence turning over the pages of her revelations. She was truly beautiful; I could not help feasting my eyes upon her.

“Oh god that was so long ago”, she said loudly with such agony in her voice that I started.

“How long ago?” I asked and instantly subsided.

“Ages ago”, she answered, “I don’t even remember if it was true or not”.

“Wow”, I thought. She apparently hears me. She can’t see but hears me.

Why is she not afraid? A voice from nowhere could easily drive mad anyone, it can not be… She can hear my voice in her mind that is why she didn’t notice me.

The girl reached out her hand for a packet of cigarettes from the table, lit up intending to say something but began to cough. Through the cough, she prolonged:

“He could have been a good husband. But I have been a fool. I didn’t even realize what he talked about. I believed my friends much more than myself or even him. He kept trying to fix everything. I don’t even know how to say it properly – “He fought for his little princess”. While she turned out to be just a bitch. I never listened to him speaking. After all, he was left alone. He had never had friends, he was very secluded, he couldn’t even dance because of his shyness. At the beginning everything was fine but then here we go. He began to change, moonwalking and talking to himself alone in the dark empty room. Sometimes he stood gazing at me keeping silent. That could go on for hours although I got used to it. I thought that I was the reason of his madness, the reason for our relations to die so easily until I found him kicking the bucket in the lobby. He had a syringe in his hand. Empty capsules were lying near him titled as “Morphine Hydrochloride”.

She went silent then stood up, took an ashtray and went to the lobby. Dropping ashes I followed her. She stopped at the mirror, took a rake and began to comb her hair. Leaning against the wall, I couldn’t help gazing at her, I wanted her to keep talking:

“So what’s next?” I asked softly.

“He was saved. Then he vowed: “I will leave it off, Lenka! I will!” So he did. He hanged in there for a time but after all, he gave up the ship. Once my friends, few guys came into our flat and beat the living daylights out of him allegedly for torturing me. They thought they were helping me. That was my fault, I shouldn’t have complained about complexity of my life. I have that day down pat… I came home off shift. At the time, I had been working as a cover girl. It is a tough and tiresome job, I had no pleasure of it. From pillar to post, these eternal shootings. I have been earning while he was just stealing money from my handbag for that trash of him. I made no complaint still don’t know why. I don’t know if I ever loved him. Just because he was only one who didn’t involve converse…” She subsided for a moment, fetched a sigh and continued, “So, when I came home he was sitting in the bath bleeding and playing with streaming water like a child. The water had already flooded the bathroom and almost leaked out to the lobby. He was sitting widely smiling then he gave a look at me and began to cry. He was smiling while his eyes streamed tears mixing with blood. And through his torn lips and broken teeth tears were tracking to his hard-set smile”.

She went silent again and began to rouge her lips. I took a thought that even if she could hear me I would not be able to say anything because I could not decide who was to blame.

“It’s my fault and nobody else”, at the moment she has already been putting on her lipstick. “I am here now and he is gone. He hanged himself the next day. He had trusted these scums who beat him up and gave the elbow. He gave up fighting or even rather gave up living”.

“And you? What did you do?” I asked.

“Me? I have made a switch and now listen to “Pink Floyd” instead of “Ruki wverh”. All I want to see now is my friends sleeping. By the way, I have composed a lullaby and I am going to sing it for them, I am going to present them with dreams”.

Upon that, she pulled a revolver from her backpack. Her eyes rolled up, her elbows lowered. Now she was not a world-weary girl, but the one who desired to take life by the throat and shake all bird shit from it at any cost. I saw a panther, a graceful softly smiling panther that everyone should be afraid of.

Loud voices were heard behind the front door for some time. Voices, shouts, nasty pert roaring, nose blows, bottle clinks and circulating holler “He-ey Lenka! We are here!” followed by continuous roaring.

I realized what she wants now, that made me feel shivers down my spine.

“Stop!” I cried, “Don’t do that!”

“Shut up!” she answered.

She made her way to the front door, opened it and stepped on the landing. I followed and bypassed her. Upon standing in a smoky landing, I decided to face her and try to argue her out of it. Her drunk friends exclaimed chorally…

“The fuck? Look at you!”

“What a slut!” jealously and floutingly noticed one of the girls sitting in almost senseless and unshaven man’s lap.

Sadness and hatred flashed in Lena’s eyes. My condition reflected these feelings gradually. I could not shift my gaze from her emotionless face. Wordlessly she decided to zero in the gun on the friendly crowd and began shooting disorderly. I stood motionless watching the dashing panther. She was on the rampage until the last of her “best friends” gave up his ghost. Stepping over bleeding dead bodies she was saying “hi” to each. As thus, she stepped down the ladder and vanished deep under the stair rails. I stood there watching hard-set frightful emotions of the dead. However, I felt neither fear nor pain nor pity on them. I suddenly realized that EVERYTHING HAS A PRICE. SOON OR LATER, YOU WILL BE BROUGHT TO BOOKS!

Smell of cigarette smoke put my wise to have a smoke but I’ve found no cigarette in my pocket although I knew it was there. Not far from an outstretched arm of one of the “happy-get-together” a packet of cigarettes lain on the floor. On the word I have noticed a still smoking cigar stub at my feet dropped by Lenka (I knew that because a lipstick on a filter tip). She “blew a kiss” and disappeared. A soft smile touched my lips; I took the cigar stub, drew down, closed my eyes in pleasure and softly sang: Fondly with love, shyly in grove…

When I opened my eyes, everything had disappeared – No bodies, no blood, nothing at all, just a blank landing and the door to Lenka’s flat. Heartily wiping her feet, clanking the knobblies humpbacked old woman with a cane in hand was trying to get it.

“Are you her grandmother?” I asked.

She discontentedly looked at me over her shoulder and said:

“Whose, her? Get out of here young sot. Just fancy! Got up to the twelfths floor just to bother people! Get the hell out of here!”

There was nothing for it but to obey. I decided to get down to the elevenths floor as the old woman hit me with her cane in my knee simultaneously closing the door and exclaiming:

“I’ll call the police!”

Bypassing two concrete stair carpets, I saw a huge inscription on the wall

The Eleventh floor

Voices of the celebration party from behind the door hit my ears. I pulled the door-handle and cautiously stepped in. Standing on the threshold I was listening to the joyful voices, loud girly voice was a natural response for some short New Year’s jokes.

“Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” A clink of the crystal glass filled with champagne. All that merriment called up a wish to have fun and drink. I pushed aside a pile of shoes to clear my way and entered the lobby. Should I have come in? – Some doubts were cast upon it. Was it true or not? Would they notice me? After all, the old woman has not only noticed me, she has also hit me with a cane. Than I took a thought there is no trouble to be a voice in mind of single person but how could I become a voice in mind of entire crowd…hm. Now I was into it. I answered my own questions with words “I don’t know” and boldly stepped into the room full of joy. Rejoicing, singing and drinking together with them, a TV set was the spotlight of attention. I found my place prior to the table and sat gazing at the gleaming screen. There were only youth in general. Boys and girls from nineteen to fifty-five. Eight people far and by. Such a raggle-taggle show. It was not yet clear if they’ve noticed me. The TV transmission attracting attention ended and everyone took their wineglasses in hands. A man whom everyone called Uncle Sergey stood up.

“Well Well Well!” said Uncle Sergey. Apparently, he was so called “life of the party”. Uncle Sergey was thin and slight, greyish and sometimes bald, wrinkled and vinous skinned. He had a wide smile of smoky golden teeth. He was that fifty-five years old person. His thick wife Aunt Nadya whose height was above his own came across as very kind and decent person. She was forty-six years old. In all probability, they were the householders for as much as I heard them saying “…Our flat...” Opposite to Uncle Sergey sat a nineteen years old girl bobbed in a boyish style. I marked her because the householders were approaching her as “Our daughter” or “Natashenka”. Next to Natasha sat someone apparently unindifferent for her. I supposed so because I noticed them holding hand in hand under the table. And indeed, she was paying much more attention to him than to the others. “…Andrew! Want something else?...” “…You don’t eat much, do you? Here, give me your plate and I’ll put some of these in it…” In fact, Andrew was shoveling food down like crazy, that is why his plate has always been empty. His appearance corresponded to his appetite – About 180 cm tall, muscular and beefy he had a crop hairdo, almost bald. I was taking these notes sitting in soft, low and comfortable chair two steppes away from the table. As I supposed no one noticed me. At the left, there was soft and small coffee table adherent to my chair, occupied by drinks (champagne, vodka and Bulgarian wine). These drinks were accompanied by sweet smelling snacks. I knew these were placed here not for me but because the main table was full. Desire to drink something was still strong. Fortunately, there were a few empty wineglasses on the coffee table and one of the Bulgarian wine bottles was open. Letting things go hang I filled a wineglass with wine and upon taking a gulp I turned my attention to sudden silence. Andrew was proposing a toast:

“Um… Loudly, with great pleasure, I want to thank those who prepared this festive table and all these tasty dishes for us. For all those by virtue of whom we can drink and eat welcoming a New Year…”

“ Go on!” I took a thought.

Andrew wanted to continue but something that I was not expecting to see happened: His eyes opened out, his face wreathed in idiotic smiles and he loudly blurted two thanks at once – one for aunt Nadya and second for Natasha, than hopped up and bundled out.

I was trying to realize what has just happened here and soon I found an explanation of his behavior. He wanted to thank every person involved in this celebration, but for lack of perception, he did not know that these people are in the middle of nowhere. For example: These who made the Bulgarian whine. I’d say nothing about bananas and salads with crabsticks.

By that time, Natasha was shouting her beloved man’s name through the open door leading to the porch, while everyone were just exchanging glances at a loss.

“He is not going to come back for a long time”, I said smiling. Smiling because I started to enjoy that.

Natasha stopped shouting through the emptiness, came back and meditatively said:

“He is not going to come back for a long time”.

So I can just talk to anyone. “But why did Andrew do what I said”, I figured. But, to be honest the answer did not care a rush. As I said before, I began enjoying that new ability of mine.

For some time the room kept silent beside the TV. Then, aunt Nadya made theatrically joyful outcry:

“Well now! He ran away, that means he has no business here. To be honest he cut a poor figure, Natasha (upon these words she gave a glance to her wrapped up in daughter). He looked bad in these latter days and in any case, he is no bargain to you.

“Totally agree”, I said.

“Truly not a bargain if he ran away”, I prolonged laughing.

In fact, I did not know what kind of person he was, and what was in his mind. My jerkiness was taking its place by rights. I might have destroyed someone’s earnest relations or saved him or her. Anyway, I did not want to retreat, that was too exciting.

“Come on, my friends!” uncle Sergey pronounced, “It is New Year! Let us welcome it worthily. By the way, what time is it? Oh, it is half past eleven. Therefore, we have a half an hour until the New Year. Now then! I see your glasses are empty, Igoryosha take a bottle of wine from the coffee table”.

From the jump, Igoryosha was sitting quiet, hiding in the corner of sofa. He was about nineteen years old, chunky, wearing glasses with black rim. In all probability, his eyes were really bad, as behind the glasses they seemed much bigger than they were. Igoryosha stretched a hand to my table trying to catch a bottle of wine…

“It is time to get shitfaced my friend! We don’t need a wine, let us have some vodka”,I whispered to shy Igoryesha with a smile.

Igoryosha took a bottle of vodka, turned back to the table and expressively approached Uncle Sergey:

“It is time to get shiftfaced my friend! We don’t need a wine, let us have some vodka”.

Uncle Sergey gave a loud laugh and answered:

“Alright Igor, if you say so, it’s okay tonight! Give me the bottle”.

His infectious laughter ran across the table returning festive mood. Jokes and stories were spreading again. Even Natasha was laughing gazing at the TV and commenting something to her mother. Nobody noticed that Igor could not say such a thing because of his shyness. Actually, among the party crowd nobody knew his personality except of Natasha’s mother. Even she knew only that he had a set towards mathematics, but that was not much. He was a son of her friend. As his mother said, he had always been spending the New Year at home with her. He had never had any calls by girls. It was very discomposing her. When she found that her friend would hold a party of various youth, she asked her to take Igoryosha with them. She did not know how he would behave publicly. Anyway, Aunt Nadya gladly agreed and promised to tell her about son’s behavior after the New Year. While Igor was wrapped-up in thought of his own words blushing gradually, Uncle Sergey was filling out vodka. I don’t know what was Igor thinking about, but I could suppose he didn’t expect such action from himself. I was curious, how I could know such private details of him and his mother. After all, this question has gone as well.

Igor was attentively looking at Uncle Sergey filling his glass with vodka. Judging by his crinkled face, he did not know how he would cope with it.

“Well!” uncle Sergey cheerfully exclaimed, “A toast! Let Igor propose it”.

Igor’s face changed its color from red to vinous. He inquiringly looked at Uncle Sergey.

“Yes, yes my friend. The toast is yours. By your command, these glasses were filled with drink that you chose, so the toast is yours”.

People were smiling and waiting gazing at Igoryosha. He had never been in the limelight and now everyone were looking at him in waiting of some kind words and warmest wishes. Vacillatingly, Igor took the glass and slowly raised. His toast began with silence, he was thinking. Everyone decided that was just a poetic preparation as it occurs at theatre when the actor keeps dead silence and then starts something like “To be or not to be, that is the question”. However if the actor says something not so significant like “It is cold today and my head ache…” that means he just forgot to announce “I have even came off half-cocked”. However, in their eyes Igoryosha was just a “Grandmaster of toasts”.

Wordlessly Igoryosha took a gulp, and screwed up his face.

“Look how eager he is”, uncle Sergey said. A burst with laughter imbued the room. “We want some drink too, come on!” uncle Sergey continued.

“I want this…”, Igor hesitated for a moment and after a short silence, he uttered, “I want this New Year to be kind”, upon saying that, he changed his glass with Natasha’s glass, took another gulp, looked over the room, screwed up his face again and upon taking salted cucumber sat down.

“Homo-retardus”, that was my first thought. Nobody said anything more. I did not understand what was in their minds but their glasses were wasted in a moment.

I was curious, what does the word “kind” mean. With this question, I have approached a girl sitting opposite to the “Grandmaster of toasts”, named Oksana. Blue-eyed, snub-nosed, curly blonde girl, low heighted and thin as a stick. She was Natasha’s schoolmate and her best friend. At first look she was about sixteen years old, I could hardly believe she is nineteen. Can you beat how tiny she was?

“What does word “kind” mean?” she softly asked Igor.

Igoryosha nearly choked over his cucumber and made an amazed grimace. His face became so long that his glasses slipped down his nose tip. Judging by Oksana’s reaction, she felt embarrassed for her question. She tried to pretend that nothing happened at all.

Igoryosha heavily swallowed his cucumber, made a profound sigh and whispered:

“I am sorry, what were we talking about?” upon these words he slightly raised his glasses.

“Hah, vodka is effective!” I laughed, “Ksusha, tell him to bottom up or he would appear in embarrassing situation. Leaving a wineglass half-empty is not mannishly!”

“You should finish your drink or you would make it into embarrassing situation. It is not mannishly”, Oksana whispered not following her own words.

He glanced at his glass, straightened, promptly raised a wineglass as if it was a venomous snake and as he was trying to face the snake, bottomed up its venom. Perspiration sprang to his forehead, his veins swell up, his right eye came closer to the left one and the left one did the same.

“That’s it! Time to let mommy go away! Skin off your nose Igoryosha!” I said upon taking a wineglass from my table. “Damn!” I exhaled in pleasure and upon putting a chocolate bar in my mouth I added, “God bless Bulgarians! Their wine is damn good and the chocolate as well!”

I was twisting a chocolate wrapper trying to find out where it had been made. I found a part of the text written in unknown language and realized that the chocolate had been made somewhere in Poland, I imagined that once upon a time…

Poland (Krakow)

The Asylum

A new patient double-muffled in a straitjacket who couldn’t say anything but “thanks” lied on the floor of absolutely white and well-lit ward. Some patients concerned to that ward were interrogatively snaring around him. As far as they were coming closer, the newbie was periodically bawling out:

“Get the fuck out of here! Hey you! You – freak, don’t come any closer, leave me alone you lunatics…”

A doctor and a nurse entered the ward (Speaking Polish)

“So where did they find him?” the doctor asked.

“At the gate of the chocolate factory, professor”, the nurse answered, “He had been staying on his knees thanking the factory for the sweetmeats made for some New Year”.

“Hrmph”, meditatively pronounced professor, “A rare occurrence! Such patient demands a personal treatment course”.

I dropped the wrapping down the floor because I was bored reading it, so I snapped my attention to the party.

“Well, Igoryosha, should we continue drinking? Hey, Ksusha tell him to fill our glasses and make sure he wouldn’t forget to fill his own!”

Oksana, being totally nonplussed has obeyed my request taking the message to Igoryosha in facsimile. Igoryosha jumped up. He seemed totally indifferent to drink or not to drink.

“Well, Well, Well! The New Year is almost here. Two times two equals four – four minutes until the New Year. Hey, turn up the TV volume…”

Regular “five minutes, five minutes… Just five minutes remaining, to the New Year.” Was going out of the TV.

“No, no, no!” drank and smiling Igoryosha was slowly getting down. He decided to make his way to the TV but in his condition, that was an impossible quest.

“Waht a… What a liar you are, not five, it’s alre...oh! three minutes! Let us drink as twice two is four…”

He did what he wanted to do and by pushing Natasha, he sat on the vacant side of her chair. He placed his hands on the back of two-seat chair. Right here, Oksana broke into a laugh having a wineglass filled with vodka in her hand.

“Bottoms up!” I said.

So, she had to drink down the hatch.

This very moment Natasha was about to respond the impudence (not commonly found in) of Igoryosha but I interfered:

“Back your friend up, drink some, have a snack and drink again! There is no need to be nervous, it is not your turn, keep to the queue!”

Natasha did right to as I asked her. Salute thunder expanded behind the window.

Uncle Sergey who was discussing Alla Pugacheva’s life with his wife, suddenly shouted loudly:

“Hurray! Happy New Year! God bless you!”

After that, everyone began shouting congratulations. Twelve o’clock - burst with joy.

Natasha was now open to Igoryosha’s embracement who occupied the place of the actual polish asylum patient.

Everyone but Oksana were kind of happy. She was thinking about Igor, she has set affections upon him and now she wanted some solitude with him. She got up and moved right to me. I caught her thought and immediately jumped up. Ksusha has reclined at ease on my chair and crossed her legs.

I had to take another seat and found it at Oksana’s former seat.

At this juncture, the doorbell rang…

Natasha started and ran to the door. Second later I heard a loud and happy yawl and words:

“Greetings Santa! You must be very tired, please, come…”

All these words were accompanied by feigned deep voice of Santa:

“Happy New Year! Yes, I am very tired…”

Walking backward Natasha entered the room. After her – hulky Santa wearing a red hood, a floor-skimming silk coat colored the same way as his round cheeks and nose. A cotton beard and his staff made him easily recognizable.

People were so happy with his forthcoming that they immediately provided him with a seat place and filled the wineglass. As a matter of course, no one provided me a drink.

I turned to Oksana. Her celebration might have already ended. Forgetting about her incomprehensible adherence to her holiday compotator, she fell on sleeping in chair.

I found myself being bored. Now I remembered that some time ago, in the time when I hadn’t knew any posts or titles, I had just been as happy as they are now. But, my happiness had another source – Love. If the most honest eyes in your life suddenly appear to be the most lying, but still beloved, you wouldn’t even notice how fast they lose your credit. You are trying to let sleeping dog lie, and the name of this dog is “Vengeance”. How could it happen? A sensible man with three graduate degrees comes to a low act, is it possible that understanding and repentance come on one's deathbed?

Thinking about it, I did not notice that I raised and went out. I was sitting on a cold concrete staircase between the tenth and eleventh floors.

By the right hand there was a match folder and a pack of cigarettes lying on the floor.

“At least, I have found it”, I thought. I knew that I had cigarettes but I could not find them, and now I was sitting and smoking, that means it was time to smoke properly. So, that is true – ALL IN ITS OWN GOOD TIME.

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