Gifts

 
The greatness of a dream is that it’s just a dream.
Not copyrighted.

The dreams have to come true.
My mom.
 
Preface

The pain was perfect. It sparkled with millions of colours – from black to blue through the whole palette of tints, twisting in an ideal spiral in front of my eyes. The colours merged and turned into absolute white, blinding me like no sunshine ever could.
My vision faded and collapsed, drowned in this light, weeping and still – mourning for more. It was unbearable – one more drop – a flash of shine – and I could have the torment over. But He didn’t give me this last favour.
“I’m leaving!” he said. “I have never loved you!”
There was a sound of his steps, then a rustle of the door opened. He left.
I didn’t care. There was pain by my side and now – for one short moment of life that had to be over soon, please – it was the most desirable thing. One more drop, please...
The agony continued. Light went out and the dim of sparkling dust fell from my eyes.
The tile, fine blue tile, pride of my mom’s kithen was covered with red. Stains of cherry, puddles of tomatoe, crust of brown – “Kill Bill -3”lot. With an important thing missing – no corpse stuffing, just one dead body over all. Mine... Dead body.
And the long scars on my elbows had nothing to do with it.
Whatever held me in this life, wasted and hurt, it was cruel. I was about to part, to be delivered and someone or something, damn it, pulled me out of oblivion. Let me go, I thought. Let me – for I don’t care.
They all decieved me. I couldn’t believe anybody since now. Love, friendship, trust – these silky words of indearment meant nothing in the end. I saw the face of Love today and what was it? A brutal grin, a knife stained with blood.
My red oblivion was much kinder than love that we used to praise so much. It didn’t hurt me. And it didn’t kill me. It accepted my maimed body and my broken heart in its warm embraces. It closed my eyes with a gentle hand and sang me a lullaby. It caressed my wounds with salva and they healed. The pain winced and recoiled.
Darkness lulled me and the agony soothed.
Little Anne, close your eyes...
Dream how darkness paints the skies
Draws the saucer of the Moon.
Hear the magic of the tune:
Silent heaven, silent ground
Silence singing all around.
Voice like breathing – clear and warm,
Sleep, my baby, sleep at home.
Sleep and see the dream tonight -
Stars that twinkle high and bright,
Rivers frozen under ice,
Little Anne, close your eyes...
And you’ll dream so many things
And the joy that morning..
“Anne! Anne! Baby Ann!” someone shook my body. My jaws bumped and electric sparkles flashed in my precious gloom.
There was somebody who didn’t let me sleep. Who wanted to torture to go on.
Little Anne, close your eyes –
Dream how
“Ann!” someone’s lips covered mine and breathed in a portion of cold air. It tickled my larynx but made no sense on my body. What are they doing there, outside? Why don’t they let me sleep, damned idiots? I’m so tired, so exhausted. I have no strength at all. Just the thing... a thing... What’s it called?
Fatigue. That’s it.
Leave me be. My night, it’s what I deserved. My sleep. My deliverance.
Little Anne, the starlit path
You will see how angles dance
Follow me in silent walk
And you’ll hear the rivers talk.
Hold the darkness for a while
And you’ll see how fairies smile...
Close your eyes, so deep and clear,
Little Anne, sleep, -

“ANN!”

The darkness yielded and let me go. Suddenly I opened my eyes and stared in front of me, cruelly rooted out of peace. The world around me was nothing, but a terrified face – two gigantic eyes and pale cheeks.
Dimah, I thought before losing consciousness, just Dimah.


 
Chapter 1
Old friends
The wagon shook like in fever. I clutched the hand-rail, trying to keep balance. An unknown girl on enormous heels danced on my right shoe. Well, if she was going to do one more hole in it – just for better ventilation – I had no objections, of course if she makes a symmetrical in the other shoe. There was no space to have my shoes rescued and I had just to wait until the wagon stopped on my station.
The sights of Izmailovski park appeared in the window. I didn’t have to wait long.
Still, I was far from glad to be on the spot. I had an interesting book in my hand, open on the very important moment. It was impossible to tear from it, so I hurried to swallow more pages before the train stopped and spitted me on the platform.
Although I didn’t want to be spitted. But I was not the one to call tune – rush hour in Moscow subway taught people not to worry if they were devoured, chewed and spitted – at best. At worst... there are many anatomical holes, you know.
Well, I stared in the book, when the train began to slow down. Lets see. The sentence that I find in the book at random will be my prophecy. I opened it and pointed in a line with my nail.
“Death could come silent” the line proclaimed. Just in case I looked through the entire page – the whole paragraph was rather funereal. I’d better chose a recipe-book for prophesying.
I closed the book and squeezed on the platform between a dancing girl and a Matrix-dressed guy in sunglasses. The girl followed me with a sad look, as if she got used to me during her exercises. And – may be – my foot was the only thing on which she could exercise. What a loss!
The wind caught my hair and made it cheerly dance around my head. I screwed up my eyes, smiling to the kind September sun and put a crazy lock back on its place behind the ear.
They were hard not to notice – six of them, loud and vivid. Dimah in parrot trousers, Leuce in acid pink briefs, Dan and Alex – rather swollen after Alex’s birthday party, and twins – not a grain of similarity at first sight. Faces were dark with suntan, chicks were redder than ever. The grins, the grimaces and the gestures – recklessness in every movement – showed there was nothing changed about them during the summer. Very six, laughing all aloud, so that shocked passers evaded them carefully.
When I approached, six cheerful faces turned to me concurrently, six clear voices shouted the ‘hello’.
Someone got me in his hugs and squeezed my poor bones so that I hardly could give a squeak. I freed myself and embraced everyone by turns. They clamored and fussed so that I just had to answer ‘Fine’ to all the muttering I heard.
I had known them for two years only but these two years were full of bloody struggling for existence. Our small group tried hard to survive in its primary cast in the university - fighting with instructors, control works, tests, examinations and of course, with laziness. Sometimes we lost, sometimes we succeeded. The one who made his way forward immediately turned back to help others. We united in friendship so strong that the loss of any one would be like amputation of a healthy limb without narcosis.
Everyone could be a relative to me – I knew almost everything about each of them: their desires, dreams, favorite songs, miserable break ups and ex-girlfriends.
In fact, I liked them very much.
“Well, Ann, you are almost in time, wait for Kathy and sail away!” Mary prevented my protests. My friends began with asking about my summertime and finished – no surprise – discussing my new, rather frivolous dress. By them, for such a clothing there must have been a forcible argument. By them, it must have been a bronzed athlete with a pretty face and attractive sum in his purse.
I looked at Mary with gratitude. It was almost impossible to persuade my friends I had no ‘victim’ in my sight. The dress was just a tribute to last warm days of the autumn.
“Aha-aha!” Tany said when I mentioned the weather. “I’ve seen your weather already! He’s cool... your ‘weather’!” I stared at her, waiting for explanations but she considered me to know everything already and turned away.
All the looks were to the glass doors, waiting for Kathy.
Dimah – the first macho in the faculty – asked me if I still was free.
I was. An endeavor to taste passion the last year brought only pain and disappointment. From then on I tried to limit my contact with boys. Except Dimah, Alex and Dan - they were the only secure for me. Three ‘elder brothers’ always ready to help and protect were quite enough to be sure that not every man in the world is a rascal.
I didn’t talk much about my misfortune but it was clearly written on my forehead. The guys could read every dismal page in my book. They helped me to undo the wrong as much as they could. The queue of their brothers, the brothers of their boyfriends, the brothers of their sister’s boyfriends lined up to me. It was nice but unnessasary. “Leave me be”, I asked them. I only needed time...
I could do nothing with my heart – for first three months I only remembered and hoped like all the abandoned do. Sometimes I even thought that he’d better died. In that case I would have got a romantic veil of mourning and a right to feel myself valuable. Only those who were abandoned know how hard it is to maintain the feeling of being valuable, not worse than anyone around you.
Fortunately, he just went away, saying that he had never wanted me. He didn’t promise anything.
How could I believe? He didn’t say but all his looks, his touch, his embrace, his kisses were promising an eternal paradise to me.
In the end, I began to hope that there was just some misunderstanding between us. I dreamt that if I cleared it up things could be mended again. I was going to meet him and have a serious talk. But firstly I had a serious talk with Dimah. He wasn’t a good student at all. He disliked studying. He disliked pharmacy. He disliked serious talks whatever they were about. But when your heart wept and the man was the cause – there wasn’t any better adviser than Dimah.
“Don’t go” he said to me “if the man needs a woman, no misunderstanding will hinder him! Did he try to clear up anything when he left? Did he try to explain anything? Why so do you go now and plead for him? Your fight with him is lost, but don’t lose your fight with yourself! Don’t grovel! He left you, so do the same with him. Leave him behind!”
It was easy to pretend but hard to do. Nothing helped.
I went on crying at nights, went on recalling how things used to be. It, surely, didn’t help my heart to heal, but disturbed my aching wounds more and more with every tear shed. Memories were like poison that I poured on my burnt flesh by my own will. I hardly could distract from agonizing. Days and nights were dedicated to it, to cultivating pain and accumulating bitterness.
But – when months passed, once I woke up with a strange feeling of something lost. Something unmaterial. My heart was too tired of the pain. It needed loving care to heal. But not memories, not tears. Not Him. A book of my first love was finished. I put it on the secret shelf in my soul and locked the case. I had to throw it away, I knew, but it was equal to throwing away a part of my life. So I kept it, somewhere deep, me, myself, not knowing where.
Thing changed. The lines vanished from my forehead. Everyone breathed out with relief and left me in peace with the splinters of the past. I swept them away and stored in the same dark place.
There remained only four long lines of red on my arm. And the fear.
Affection – any side of it – was a great sack of fears. You could take out any at random. Lovers were scared of losing each other, of losing the feeling, of destiny, of everything.. The abandoned like me were afraid too: of feeling itself, or particularly the pain that it brought.
I tried to meet new guys, tried to persuade myself that not all the boys were like him. There must have been the Only One for me, I ensured myself. After my unrequited feeling all these fantasies about ‘Only Ones’ seemed to be a mockery. I wasn’t too silly, I didn’t want to be lonely for all my future. But the fear was stronger – it had a great experience to ruin souls more powerful than mine.
I did my best.
Another’s kisses were sweet like a full sugar-basin in my mouth, another’s embraces were strong enough to force my soul out. Another men were made for more confident and passion-dreaming girls. I didn’t want it from then on. I wanted peace and oblivion and I got it.
Any girl needs a firm men’s shoulder for support, Well, I had plenty of shoulders – my classmates cheered me up every day, converting my life into a circus. Every week Dimah inquired about my private life. Actually, we didn’t have any private life in our group: everyone knew everything about each other, we shared agony and happiness of everyone of us and – in some sense it was easier to survive.
Every time he asked, I answered the same: I haven’t fallen for any one.
I was weak and didn’t want to run risks.
My behavior was quite strange for Dimah. He changed girls like socks, throwing away the worn or stained. He was a dream-boy: a typical prince on a white horse, with a bouquet, in hurry to rescue his beautiful princess. Every girl could feel herself a princess if Dima’s glance stopped at her. He was an experienced commander: he could advance all his regiments to the attack or send scouts, he could beleaguer the fortress or could assault. But he never took prisoners, his battlefield was covered with dead.
Still, his partings weren’t any painful. Dimah, unlike my first love, was experienced in ‘non-promising’ so that no one ever was wrong about him. He wasn’t a guy for long relationship. He wasn’t a guy for a single girl. It was clear at first sight. When some girl wanted to check it, it didn’t take her long to come sure this piece of beauty wasn’t for her. For whom?
Who knew? Not me, surely, for in battles with men I was a losing side.
So I excluded them from my life and felt myself quite healthy and wealthy. Like without tonsil.
Girls from my group tried hard not to chat about boys in my presence. Fuf. It turned out to be impossible: a life of an average teen-age girl is full of men, fleeting glances, timid smiles and some dreams far from bashful. I heard Tany and Mary discuss endless Victors, John’s, Basils and to my greatest amusement these conversations didn’t make me feel annoying. It was far beyond me.
I didn’t envy the kissing couples, I didn’t even think I had something missing about that in my life.
“I hoped you would find someone this summer! Resort romance, you know!” – Dimah looked so sad like if I ignored him when he passed by on the beach.
“Someone must find this girl or she will stay lone forever!” Maria said.
“Sorry!” I shrugged. “Should I hang a board on my chest?”
“Crazy girl!” Maria said.
I got used to their hints. But do they really think I want to spend my time on looking for someone who rescues me? Rescue me from... what? I didn’t want to be saved from the oblivion I drifted in. I had no pain and it was quite enough not to try my luck.
“Oh, damn it! What’s happened?” Dimah hissed in my ear.
I could have millions of problems, creating somewhat like a madness in my head but a real madness wasn’t about me, but on Kathe’s head. Curls of all the possible colours fell on the shoulders – pink, yellow, cyan, crimson, orange and emerald-green. My best friend rushed out of the underground, tousled and wild and ran into Alex. Alex lifted her up and whirled in the air. When he placed her on the ground Kathy kissed everyone and gave me a hug.
Exactly day for day, two years ago I met her in the first time. I was late for the first lecture on chemistry and needed records to copy. She handed the pages to me and smiled. The smile was of those that made you look in the mirror to find out what’s wrong with your fcae. ‘Archly’ was just around the reality, but lacked a certain dose of craft.
I went through the notes and sighed. She could be proud of herself: no decoder would intereprete these funny snags. Chaotic flourishes, spirals, hooks and strokes – these were the contents of her note-book.
I hardly believed this was about thermodynamics.
Kathe was my constant companion, assistant, my crying shoulder and my whipping boy. I thought I knew every single move of her soul, every single thought that her mind created even if it never sounded aloud.
The more surprise this schizophrenia on her head was for me. A rainbow rage, a colorful merry-go-round! There wasn’t only black and brown. I observed her from top to toe and sighed with relief: the rest of her looks was normal. It was old Kath... at least, from outside.
“I am okay, guys!” she made an attempt to prevent idiotic exclamations.
She failed. It took us five minutes to scold our opinions. Actually, they could be summarized in a short: Sanable!
We all hoped it was sanable – not the dye on her hair, but the moods that brought her to the hairdresser’s. I kept silence patiently, quite aware of what discomfort it is when everyone talks about you. Kathy didn’t also seem to enjoy the attention.
You don’t have such a wry face when you enjoy.
When someone remembered we had to set off for the university, Kathy was almost red with anger. Her face color called up with tomato locks on her crown.
Alex recalled he didn’t have breakfast. His eternal companion Daniel directed his way to the nearest stall. Leuce caught the guys before they wandered off and the whole company lead to the Macdonalds. Kathy dragged me opposite way.
I sighed – a hamburger wouldn’t be any redundant.
“Do you think it’s awful?”
“What?”
“The color!” – she stamped angrily.
I laughed and pushed her forward.
“Each of them?”
She froze with her mouth open and abruptly laughed. People turned back at us, confused. Some passers-by stopped and rubbed their eyes unbelieving. Kate was memorable, like an exotic parrot run away from the zoo.
“I wanted to become a little bit extraordinary, more markable! I overdid it!”
“You oversucceeded, Kath!”
“I will dye my hair back tomorrow... of course, if I live so long!”
I asked her what the problem was: for no particular reason a girl won’t change her looks so extremely. Especially, Kathy. The motive was prosaic: having passed her summer in the city without green grass and tender waves she was fed up of dullness. Absolutely driven crazy among the grey boxes of concrete and glass, this neon at nights and traffic.
“The subway makes me shiver with rage! I hate these stinking, sweaty stouts breathing with alcohol in my face, these sticky fingers touching my back, these fumes from the melting asphalt! The summer in the city is rotten!”
I flapped her shoulder. Obviously, she had the worst summer of us all. I spent two months on the south, lying on the beach or helping my aunt with gardening. Even gardening was hard to call a work: I had only to pick cherries in a grand basin from the tree. Usually I spent my working hours on the roof of the summer house, bathing in the sunlight and sending the berries in my bottomless stomach. When it became unbearably hot I hid in the shadow of the same cherry tree, on the roof. I didn’t even have to stop my ‘work’ and part with the basin.
I remembered about a jar of cherry jam and three bottles of liqueur. May be, it would cheer Kathe up a little – this tinned essence of summer.
Sometimes I got messages from my friends: Maria was in Rome, Alex explored Far East, Tany and Dimah accidentally met together in Sochi in the most popular disco-club. They sent me photos so that I could assure – they took everything that life offered. Daniel called me to join him in his journey to Karelia. I laughed off, no wish to feed the gnats.
It was impossible to explain anyone that my exhausted heart needed silence as my lungs needed air. The solitary house in the country side was quite similar with a recreation ward. The sun and the skies were not good interlocutors but they listened to me when I wanted to speak.
I didn’t want and it never annoyed anyone.
“I’m not sure you’d like the way I rested!” I shook my head.
Kathy sighed. She had to take care of a new-born sister so she saw freedom only in her dreams. Having no chance to escape from the fuss she got fixed up in a job of guide. She showed Moscow to the exalted crowds of funny Japanese, drunk Finns and brisk Spaniards. She improved her English and learnt more about the history. Muscovites did hardly know what great things surrounded them, they didn’t get around to stop and admire...
“And I do understand them! I hate this awful monuments, squares, cathedrals! Do you know how many times I pronounced “This is the heart of my homeland – Red Square!”?
I shook my head and smiled to her.
“Fifty seven times! I am fed with it! The last day I saw Minin winked at me! Realize? He winked!”
Minin! That’s the criminal! That’s the one to be shot! He was guilty in her new hair color! Although he was too dead for any interference in Kathy’s looks. It was hard not to laugh at her – her indignation was so much of a child. I sniffed, wheezed and finally burst out with laugh.
She wasn’t offended. Although her face was angry, her eyes sparkled so as if she was enjoying. The summer was in past, the very moment presented us the meeting with our friends, new instructors and knowledge, of course.
As for it, our stomaches could store much more beer than our heads – knowledge. Young and drunk – some of us understood it word for word.
But today we were drunk with the remainders of summer sunlight, stolen from the safe of the autumn sun. Devoured in dreams, I felt a painful poke in my ribs.
“Ann! What’s with your gift?” Kathy whispered.
I shivered for a second and stared at her.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t advanced!”
She knew me well enough to know I had tried all the summer to develop my former achievements. The countryside was a good place for the attempts: my extraordinary moves didn’t shock anyone because there was no one in fact.
I took her hand and lead to the alleyway between two buildings. It was deserted in this early hour. The path was slightly covered with leaves and they crunched under our steps tunefully. I took off my red sack and put it on the bench. Kathy sat on it and fixed her gaze on me trying not to miss a movement.
I looked around: no one was spying us.
I stood in front of her and closed my eyes. Darkness behind the eye-lids wasn’t just ordinary. It was live: I felt it dance, heard it sing and if desired I could touch it. And it conquered my body, overwhelmed every single cell – so that I became a guest, not a landlord. When I felt the darkness almost possess me, I breathed out and caught it in my hands. The black shadow tossed but my embrace was firm and sure. I trapped it and wasn’t going to set free. The shadow yielded and diminished in a dense black spot.
Kathy’s jaws jingled.
My legs didn’t touch the ground.



 
Chapter 2
The gift.

 I closed my eyes again. Unreal mental effort and the spot of black in my inner sight condensed in a resilient lump. I clenched my fist like if squeezing the lump. The darkness contracted and my body felt lighter and lighter. With the darkness, gravitation itself oozed from my limbs. I soared above the ground on half a meter. Kathy uttered a peep and leaned on the bench. I smiled triumphantly.
That was my gift. The chains that fettered people to ground didn’t work in my case.
I discovered it accidentally. That time I lived in a small seaside town hidden in the knolls. All my childhood with its joys and surprises I spent near the sea – it was my keeper, my guardian angel. It had a soul of a human – always changing, thus – unpredictable. It was a kind mother, lulling with tender rustling of cyan waves upon the sand, in white clouds of fluffy foam.When we scooped it in our hands, it fizzed and flowed away through the fingers. Foam-white seagulls flashed above us, calling in the mist. These birds were heralds of storms – so their screams never faded in our land of gales. The souls, astray and lost forever in the sea, turned into the seagulls and always returned back to the port.
When the wind rolled on our shore and began to flutter the flags on the main square, the sea suddenly put off the kind guise and became a raging monster. Firstly, the deep cyan turned into grey – the sea frowned and boiled. Than – the rustle got louder and louder until you couldn’t bear the roar of the waves. The storm clouds coiled over the hills, their ragged sides dropped rain showers or hails. The air, permeated with smell of laminaria, electrified and flashed with lightning. The wind speeded on, rooted out the trees, carried away people and tickled the mountains.
They didn’t care. They saw how millions of people came and saw them all go with the wind. Millions of people they will see.
People hid in their homes, staring at the windows. We listened to the sound from outside with a special reverence. The gloom hung over the town for days, no difference between day and night.
But when the storm suddenly faded and timid sunlight oozed through the plumbeous firmament, we walked out from our shelters and the life went on its usual circle. A brilliant path appeared on the smooth surface of the sea, like a way to the horizon.
Of all the greats in this universe there wasn’t a greatness more majestic than the Sea in it Rage and the Sea in its Peace. Absolute and perfect it had our lives in its fist. Our endless well of joys and woes, of life and death. It deserved worshiping, for we didn’t have any other source of life in the island. And the gods – ancient and odious - were still powerful here, although no one would tell you truly about it.
The nature around me was magnificent – live and breathing.
But I hated the town itself, its absorbent dullness. I watched people walk but and ben on the only prospect , the doom surrounded them and reflected in their eyes. People in my homeland town had no way out – we were born, we grew up and died without meaning. There were no universities and colleges, just fishing port, smelling with fish and cigarettes. People graduated schools and had to work sailors, fishermen and mechanicians. Girls waited on the shore, amusing themselves with shopping. There surely were only shops on the island – we ate, dressed, made up our wry faces and did nothing more. There unlikely were many book shops - rare people just thought about reading. Somehow it wasn’t too popular. Women were dull and utilitarian.
These people gave birth to children who looked forward to a life with no aim. How many vicious circles have the mountains seen while impending over the town?
We lived in a cursed town. It was cursed from the very beginning of its existence: people lived in a mist, beyond the veil of mountains, lost and forgotten. With every year the town became more and more deserted: no one – normal in his mind – could stand this despair in the air. People escaped, leaving everything they had on the shore. They ran away – shuddering with fear to be buried here alive, in endless repeating of nothing.
I saw youngsters who leaved the town for a proper education – they never came back. I saw people who held plane tickets like a last weapon to struggle for life. Not existence. I saw people who crowded in the airport to have their way out – to the light. And there were olders who searched a better ground to lie in.
I looked at the sea in my window. Covered with darkness, usually raging, seething with foam it was a blood-thirsty beast who devoured people with their dreams. And it stole up to the town, closer and closer. Some day it would swallow it up.
Every morning I prayed that my last day in the town would approach. I was looking forward to my graduation – I wanted to leave for Moscow to enter the university. But the day was so far that I tried my best to ease the repetition. I wasn’t any difference with the other except once – I hated the ways we were to. I saw what we really had and it was disgusting. No way out, nothing to be changed. No light, no darkness – just a shadow of living. If someday the entire world forgot about our small town, that would be no surprise. That would be what I’d expected. That would be – no doubt – what we deserved for being so silent and so indifferent.
In all other things I was an ordinary girl. I studied. I studied well – because time vanished while I was withering over the textbooks. I went in for karate, because hobby also helped to spend time.
I felt for my classmate. It wasn’t too far-sighted of me, because he like all the guys around me had no prospect in the meaning I used the word. A fisherman, at least. At best, and obviously – a captain. Still he didn’t show much enthusiasm about anything ‘sea-connected’. Waves – they brought no sense to him, so did the fish.
In fact, he was an uncertain guy with no concrete aims and desires. I dreamt to sculpture something mine from him, more prospectful. I wasn’t the only sculptor in our school - there was a crowd of girls wishing to try new kind of clay.
If I accepted the battle I would fail, of course. Beauties around me – they could seduce so that you thought it was you who lured. They offered much more than I had: I couldn’t stand a round. My rivals were full of girlish tricks – skirts, make ups and frivolity. This explosive mixture had a tremendous effect on boys of all ages – from nine to ninety. They lost their minds, acted foolishly and were too close to nature that I could study the behavior of males in mating season, checking at biology treatises.
I could hardly make myself act like I had no brains. I needed to be respected, to be an equal in the pack. I had no chances, but he – unexpectedly – chose me.
As he said to me I could give something the other girls never had. It was knowledge.
I still couldn’t understand what he meant. I was a good student but he never asked me to help him with any subject. School didn’t interest him – just machinery, devices, computers and systems. In the end he entered Moscow State University and won a grand prize for invention of a useful program for submarines in his first year in the university. Prospect... huh... I wasn’t too far-sighted for a girl, I knew. But not that stupid!
Knowledge... Knowledge, as I saw it, was a lot of experienced women – old and wise. He said it was in me that he wanted to discover. I thought men usually talked about something ‘mystic and non-material’ in very prosaic cases. Did he just want to spend a night with me? For such occasions I had my pride and some useful karate skills.
He rarely talked about the reason that brought him to me. We liked the shared silence, watching the sea or the mountains or the walls – the scenery didn’t matter. His silence was full of peace, mine – of exclamations and questions. We smiled to each other sitting on the bench, hand in hand like the characters of a soviet movie.
Once he kissed me.
My first kiss was rather unbalanced. I didn’t know why the word appeared in my mind, but it was exactly what it was. Unbalanced – with feelings, emotions, it wasn’t in time and in place. It wasn’t any wished for like the first kisses are. It wasn’t a thing I’d expected from Mike. We shared silence, we walked together, we were dating officially but I hoped it didn’t mean he would act that – strange. Untimely. Gross.
Still, the kiss was pleasant, whatever I lied about it.
I should have stayed in his embraces, chest to chest, warmth to warmth and let the show go on. But I jumped up and rushed away, with my eyes wild open, my mouth still hot with sweetness. Instinctively I chose the most deserted road. A single-track back road descended from the hill in a cleft. From the top I made out half-naked gilded trees. I adjusted the sack on my back and dashed forward.
The sun blinded me. The wind strove to catch me and carry off. The feeling in my heart lifted me up, I gathered speed unwillingly and at the foot of the hill I realized my legs were twisting so that I couldn’t stop – just fall on the ground or drive into something.
I closed my eyes, struck with fright. I couldn’t control my body anymore and it didn’t show well without supervision. It was betraying me. I screwed up my eyes even more at the thought of a rock approaching me with enormous speed. The darkness behind my eyelids stung me. I shivered on running, not knowing quite well where my way lead to. The slope seemed never-ending. I hoped of it end with something – just to have my fear stopped, and still prayed it to continue and my life linger. I felt strange itching in my heels as if my soul sank there – not literally but physically.
Suddenly my right foot didn’t find any support and stepped in empty air. I popped up my eyes and saw the ground beneath me. Not beneath me, but that of my feet. They rowed in the air desperately, trying to get back to the solid ground. I gasped and – without any formed thought – dashed up, in the air. I wasn’t falling, so why don’t – get a little bit ... higher.
My sack hauled me to the ground, my heart aspired to the skies. I was about to be torn in halves by these too opposite, but equa, forces when I understood I was flying. Not in dreams, I was flying by myself. Higher and higher reaching the skies. If it was really happening – and there was a heavy portion of doubt - it shouldn’t have been. Flight was impossible I knew it. And as I knew the flight became impossible even more.
But now, everything I could know before didn’t count. There was a firmament above me and with every second it was closer and closer. I just accepted the thought I had gone crazy and enjoyed the madness.
It wasn’t too hard for me to do. When the first fear passed, I realized fully I was flying. Not falling over all, but rising above. I jerked my legs and sank down in the air. I wasn’t afraid to break – the one who flies once is never afraid of such trifles. I flashed in the air, like a maddened bird, speeding on and slowing down, high and low, right, left, whirled and went into a tailspin.
Two birds on my way were, obviously, dumbfounded with a human being up. Fuf, I didn’t care – I still was half-inclined to hallucination-theory for bothering about what birds might think. My unconscious body might have been lying somewhere in a gutter while my inflamed mind played tricks.
At the same time being hallucinated wasn’t a problem to care about. While I was flying, there wasn’t anything worth it. On the ground, at least. There were skies – valuable, sun – more even so, me in the very height – not any worse than the freedom round me. I was living a special new life above the mountains, above the impatience of waters. It was more I could dream of.
First day in my life I breathed out with my full chest.
From above everything showed up different: the island, the sea, the rocks and the people. Everything turned out clear and simple for me. The doom of the town was nothing but a choice people did – and no sea had to do with it. The mountains were no more the guardians of our prison. There wasn’t a prison. “Want to leave?” the wind chanted. “Than go, I don’t chain you!” “Go, go, go” the nature around me echoed.
The island was severe: “You made your choice to inhabit it yourselves. No one promised you a paradise in here, but you came and settled. And you create a life for your own. What am I? Just a shelter, just a source, just a home!”
No one was to blame but people who made their destinies by themselves. They chose the way they lived and died. I couldn’t curse the nature for our weakness and idleness.
The flight gave me the comprehension. Not the mysterious knowledge but the insight. I saw that the dullness I hated so heartedly – it was just called another word – peace.
Two words, but how much difference it made!
Peace. That timed I never knew how much I would be ready to pay for it – in two years. It was two years before the choice that was made not by me, but for me - to stay alive. It was two years before I was broken and still not healed. It was the first time I felt the magic in my life – the itching, the boiling in my veins, whatever I called it. That time I never knew that it was going to change my life forever. It was my little gift, but naive I didn’t expect to pay such a price for the skies open for me.
Woe for joy, an old rule said. It always worked. And sometimes it worked more than good – incredible!
But that time – first time in my life – I felt nothing but endless relief and happiness.
In some moment I was afraid I would like the flight so much that stay in the air forever. Like a girl from old legends I would turn into a bird who rejected her life for this feeling. But it was worth it, it was...
No flight was worthy of my mother’s tear. I had to come back.
I descended in the cleft, and circled over the clearing. I didn’t know how to land and there was no one to ask, except my intuition and experience. The latter was in absolute shock, as for intuition, it was quite clear – just land!
I sank slowly and stepped on the yellow grass. The slightest breath broke from my lungs.
I observed the clearing and the skies above it, trying to save the picture in my memory. The sun was embracing the tops of the trees tenderly, it tickled me with its warm fingers and cast a slight golden tint on my pale skin. Some shy sunspots leaped over the trail, calling me to follow. It was an invitation to a fairy-tale: in the end of the path you could find a beast with his beauty and they would offer you the greatest tea in those teapots. Or Snow White with her little workaholic friends. Or Cinderella handling me her slipper so that I could participate in a real ball.
That was not a grain of hallucinating. That all was a piece of reality in its striking magic. Was it such a beauty only for those who saw? A gift of watching and seeing?
Was I the chosen one, than?
Whatever it was a moment ago, the feeling – I was totally sure – wouldn’t repeat once again.
The flight must have been given once in a life. Like a miracle that changes your life. I was grateful for the chance.
After the first euphoria the questions came. What caused it? Was it the greatness of the first kiss? Was it affection, than? The idea was so idiotic that I mocked at myself. I was quite normal to be able to differ. Sometimes I thought I couldn’t feel for any one. Love was a magic story for romantic girls.
But the flight... it was breaking all the rules and there was nothing to argue with. I was able to fly because he kissed me. Was it something special in it? Some magic?
Magic. Huh. Magic.
The flight was natural, given by the universe itself. Magic was – if it was – a mystery, untouchable and impossible.
I wanted to share the news with someone, but I didn’t dare.
From the next day I carefully avoided my boyfriend. I felt his looks on my back. He didn’t see any reason for my odd behavior. I felt him nervous and confused. He hadn’t done anything to be blamed for, but how could I explain it to him? On the breaks I rushed out of the classroom, trying to disappear in the crowd. I hid in the canteen, in the girl’s room.
It was not because of him, but for me. I was tired of asking myself questions that might have not had answers. I didn’t want to look in his eyes, he could easily understand I was unsure about him. It could hurt him. He didn’t deserve. It was me – a failer, a quitter, a coward.
We played hide and seek for almost a month. Nothing became clear either with him, or with me. Once my sister stopped me in the canteen. She wanted to talk. I knew what the subject was – the whole school was angry with me ignoring Mike. Mike was puzzled, but he didn’t want to force the situation: it could get worse.
Julia knew we kissed. Of course, it wasn’t a good reason for a break.
“The problem is in me, Juls! I don’t want to hurt him, showing I am not sure about him!”
“Don’t you see you hurt him with your silence even more?” she was raging.
“Ease, Juls! I have special circs!” I raised my hands, peace-making.
She cut short.
“You are a flirt! No better than other girls!”
It was painful to hear such offending words from my sister. She was my best friend also, and all the secrets, dreams and happening were shared with her. Except the only one.
From a miracle it turned to be my cross. I thought I was crazy, dreaming, idiotic and peculiar at the same time. I didn’t know how to exist with the medley in my head.
I had my own curse. I should have forgotten about the deal month ago, but I couldn’t. More than me, the memory brought me back to the hill. I watched the descending road from the top and smiled. It brought peace to my heart. But when I left the hill the feeling of something lost appeared again. This place enticed me and I couldn’t resist the strength of a calling voice. It was promising, but I couldn’t hear what exactly. I was deaf and lost.
I wanted to shout Julia back. Why did she judge me? I was judged enough by my dreamless nights, by the unbearable desire to belong to something unearthly. I judged myself for vicious wishes. I was a human and my place was on the ground. In fighting with myself I didn’t succeed. I returned on my hill again and again, torturing myself with the ideas of a thing I wasn’t going to get ever. But as I dreamt – for it was enough – my itching ceased and I could breathe even.
I left school in a terrible mood. Cross looks on my skin stirred and stung like little scorpions. Everyone – my friends, my sister, my classmates ignored me. There was no exit.
I walked the same happy road that lead to my hill, stopped on the top and squinting looked down. The road called for me. This time fear was around me and inside me. I was afraid of falling, of breaking, of dying, of staying on the ground, of any little possibility to get injured. I was afraid that my downy jacket would haul me to the ground. The cold autumn sunset seemed to be laughing at my fears, mocking.
The wish of flight was more than that.
I snarled.
The sun hung a big red stripe on the sky. It seemed black to me. If I had a day to die, it was that one. A perfect mournful sunlight, darkened skies and the last road. I bit my lip. I should have tried. I should have.
The tears appeared on my lashes. The desire of flight was insufferable. It hurt so that I needed anesthesia, up there. The wounds will heal, I thought. There will be no pain and disharmony. There will be peace, again.
I rushed down the road. The feelings were not the same as in the first time. They were scaring. The wind impeded me, the sun was laughing behind, the road seemed uneven. “I will crash!” I thought. At the foot of the hill I closed my eyes and spread my hands. There must have been a special feeling of unchaining, of setting free in the moment when my feet took off the ground but nothing happened.
There was a rocky wall just in front of me. Unable to stop I was up to get smeared over it. I screamed.
The wind, the hills, the trees, the road – they all were against me. I stumbled over a stone and fell on the ground. I hurt my head and conked.

The night was in its strength. The moon – cold and majestic – ruled the nature around me. I discovered a bump on my head. It hurt. I winced. The trees weren’t mocking anymore, they were threatening, what’s worse hundred times. The fear exploded within my heart: I was in the outskirts of the town, almost in the forest, near the road. I breathed out and rose on my feet. The pain in an injured ankle-bone was worse than in my head. I could hardly walk.
The battery in my cell-phone was too low for a call. The phone turned off in a minute.
I was ready to burst in tears. There was nothing to do. If I set to walk home now I would end in a gutter, exhausted to death with a swollen leg. At best I would reach my home, in the same lamentable condition.
It was cold and windy. I lagged slowly, supporting myself with a dirty snag.
In two hours a police-car found me on the road, almost unconscious, hungry and thirsty. Scared parents alarmed the whole town to find me. I was so bad that they didn’t ask me anything at all. Injured and exhausted I was nothing, but a rag-doll, hanging helpless in someone’s grasp.
I slept for two days. The doctors gladdened my parents that I would recover soon. It was truth. Every day I felt better and better. In particular, my health. My soul remained darkened and pained. I hardly wanted anyone to rescue me. It was pleasant and soothing – this loneliness, this outness-of-world. I heard my classmates call to hear me, many of them tried to visit me in my home hospital. I rejected. I met only Mike.
He brought a bunch of flowers and sealed my cheeks with a kiss. I didn’t protest, recollecting for a hard say. My conclusion was of those, not really desirable. I could bet I was the first to dislike it, but lying to both of us was more disgusting. Truth was painful but curable, while the lied wounds festered and intoxicated.
I couldn’t give him a love that he deserved, because I couldn’t give a love actually, I said. He listened to my short explanation tranquil.
“You said something about knowledge! You see, I don’t have it! I would have known!”
He smiled.
“Therefore it’s not for me. May be it’s only for you!”
At first, I couldn’t realize why everything got fixed so easily. By me, there must have been some repulse from Mike, argument. There was nothing of it, just the smile. He offered me a peace-making hand.
“Friends?” he asked.
I put my weak hand in his palm and we shook hands. The feeling of this young friendship was magic. As if all the burdens were gone from me. I didn’t owe anything to Mike from the moment. Friends, they don’t owe.
His eyes flashed laughing in my side. We watched each other with interest, looking for signs of any confusion left. I still couldn’t believe I’d spent so much time on running from him in vain.
“Yes!” he grinned approving. “You just had to talk directly with me! Little coward!”
Mike clicked my forehead and took the bunch of flowers back. I followed him with suspicion.
“Huh” he smiled.
That barely explained anything to me. I got lost even more when he grabbed a chocolate bar he brought and poked in his pocket. That was mine!
“You see, Ann, as long as we’re not dating anymore, I can scan for another victim. And, I think I can begin right now!”
I loled when he praised the bunch to my shocked sister and gave her a frivolous hug.
The same evening Julia came to my room. I lay my book aside and stared at her. She was the one who feared for me most of all. After recovering consciousness, her tearful face was the first to greet me. She was pale and uneven, hands trembling like if she spent a week grasping with a tun. Bruises under her eyes were the final and the most colorful touch in her alcoholic-image. I had never seen her such a fright. A petty demon inside me assured she deserved it. Fortunately, there was an angel in me also, and he never liked the vision..
“Did I offend you?” she asked.
I kept on glaring at her. The question was rhetorical. Her words were impossible not to offend anyone, not me to mention.
Julia's look drifted around the room. There must have been some point to begin the conversation with, not with that question. I would be glad to offer her a variant, but I lacked it too.
She caught at the book on my bed. “Behind the love” with a grand piano on the cover. It was my favorite story, a part of my personal peace. When I felt tired, I read the book. In the end, no matter how things went for me, I always shed tears over the dismal final. Many books used to have dismal finals, but in general they all were unnatural, made up, had nothing common with reality. In reality dismal finals weren’t so striking tragic, they weren’t tragic at all, they were imperceptible. So that no one never cared.
Readers wanted tears, blood and deaths. That was a worthy ‘dismal final’.
This book was nothing of what a reader wanted. Not a grain of romance, but a violent story of opera-singers trying to survive in blockade Leningrad. The book was in fact about music, how it sang in tortured hearts, how it revived almost dead. The music, not love, helped people to remain human. And it, in the darkest end, sounded when those who were called to save it, were gone forever. Bless the music, people had a chance to remember.
The singers died from starvation. When there was the only one left, he was murderer by a mad harridan, who stole his last piece of bread to feed her hungry grandson. It was life. And it was war. This death seemed somehow fair.
In the end, the scared music sheets, cherished and dearly stored, burnt in the fire.
It was unfair. At this sight, the death of a singer was a waste. A dismality. A scorn. A woe.
Every time I hoped that the miracle happens and the death passes him, finds another victim. Believing in a miracle was always my scoffed streak. I did belive that this time Jack Dawson wouldn’t freeze to death and they would live happily ever after. This time Juliet – this dumbo girlie – would wake up in time. This time they wouldn’t need the messages in a bottle to bind their souls, this time the yacht with George comes to its port. This time...
But in life – there wasn’t this or that time. There was only now, the moment.
“It’s said that you have fallen from the rock, haven’t you?” she distracted me from my thoughts.
It was an explanation I produced for my parents. So I nodded. It was an accident, nothing more. No one hurt me, so they could not worry.
“Have you leaped down because of us?”
Leaped down? Because of who?
“We treated you bad, idiots! Sorry, we didn’t want! But you see, Mike was our favorite! I didn’t want someone to hurt him!”
“You hurt me!” I said.
“We, especially I, we all are sorry... and will you excuse us?” she pleaded and as always thrust herself in my hug.
I muttered something like a consent. She comforted herself under my arm, pulling some blanket on. Her even breathing was hot upon my skin. Her hair tickled my face and crawled in my nostrils. I sniffed and she laughed. We were silent for almost an hour so that I suspected she was already sleeping. No matter how much I loved her. A night with her challenging legs by my side would cost me another doctor’s visit.
I took my feet from under the blanket. I was already healed enough to have a short trip to another room. Still, there was some ugly hope in me, that Julia would awake on her own.
“Anne, where are you going?”
Fuf, that was too easy.
“I’m just comforting myself!”
I twitched my toes over the blanket and smiled to Julia. Lies... one day I will get used to them. I had to gain experience, to train on Julia, on my parents. To fight down self-ashame.
Although, they didn’t teach me lying. They taught me to be honest – with them at least.
But there was no reason to deceive anybody else. Who else cared?
“Ann... did you like it?” she whispered.
“What?”
“Kisses. Michael’s kisses. What were they like?” she rose on her elbow and stared in my face, trying not to lose a flicker, not a touch of emotion on my face.
“There weren’t too much of them”.
My awkward endeavor to wriggle out didn’t work. Julia stuck to the subject. She wasn’t just keeping silence, she was preparing to a chat, she was sure I didn’t like to hold.
“Anne?”
“Why do you ask? Is it for the kisses or for Mike?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It differs what I’ll tell you!”
“Won’t you tell me everything?” she was confused.
“No”
“There wasn’t too much of secret between us before!” she reproved me.
I grinned, not too happy. Things change.
“For the first kiss in my life it was good enough. A short kiss. Well-done of Mike. He tried not to disturb me much!” I said.
“Disturb you?” she didn’t get it.
“The kiss disturbed me in fact”, I said. It didn’t clear anything.
“How a kiss can disturb?”
Of all she knew from movies and novels there wasn’t anything disturbing in kissing. She kissed boys in a kindergarten but she didn’t consider it worthwhile. Just childish tricks. Since that on she didn’t have a real victim to prove her thoughts about the pleasure it brought, but she could bet on it was splendid. People all around her couldn’t be mistaken this far. They couldn’t waste so much time on something they didn’t like.
Disturbed...
Her face was shocked. I was glad I didn’t share my another impression ‘unbalanced’.
“Is it something about you?” she whispered.
“Yes. Don’t mind it. With you things will be better!” I reassured her.
No doubt tomorrow she will spend trying to charm someone to have my theory checked. Her previous lifetime she was waiting for someone worthwhile to experience her first kiss, not a first-met, but a perfect guy. It was also much of Julia – millions of romance books couldn’t lie.
But now she couldn’t wait anymore. What if everything she believed in was an empty phrase? What if kissing could disturb her too? What if it wasn’t that great?
I ruined her world and pitied her. She will need no time to prove she wasn’t like me. Julia didn’t seem to be disturbed by anything, not speaking about kisses. Stability was nasty for her, made for grannies, not for youngsters.
Peace, the highest dignity for me, smelled rotten for Julia.
“Didn’t you like it?” she asked. “Was it so unpleasant?”
“No, it didn’t lack any pleasantness! But he’d rather not kiss me at all!” I confessed.
The kiss was unbalanced. It made my whole existence unbalanced too. Now, not that moment, I considered it the most affecting thing. It didn’t bring that sense it should have. Of all the memories left of it, I could clear out the only one – about the consequence.
“You will got used to it, one day” Julia smiled to me. “It’s just because you’re so scared of everything new. It just was too sudden of Mike”.
Uhum. I didn’t expect such a meanness from him.
I was unfair to him and to Julia. She seemed to be very fond of him. I hurt her feelings when captivated Mike, then when ignored him and now – when said that I didn’t appreciate all his labors. They both weren’t guilty in things wrong for me. But they went on disturbing me, both. The most Julia who kept on interrogating. I hoped she would leave me alone with her sincerest assurance that I will get used. She didn’t. She asked where we sat, what we talked about – all the insignificant things that created the picture. I answered automatically, trying to coil up inside myself so that nothing would affect me more.
I was fed up with people who influenced my life. They’d better not. They’d better left me in peace, that I wasn’t going to get once again in this life.
The itching grew stronger and stronger.
In a month I returned to the hill. In fact, there wasn’t much of former me. There was another person, another Ann, cured and ready. I was ready for failures. I wanted to succeed even if I had to spend all my life on unavailing endeavors. The itching became unbearable and I saw no reason why not to try one more time. Two more times. Millions more times, until I get grey with oldness. Or fly again.
I spent some time for mental preparing, trying to get rid of the problems, to feel the lightness of life. When I felt myself totally ready, I rushed down the road and spread my arms. After all I pretended they were my wings.
Nothing changed. Reaching the foot of the hill, I fell or drove into the rock. It didn’t matter. The meaning was in trying itself. The taste of each try lingered on my tongue. Every new tasted different. Every new was a whole story. I recorded them in my memory. It was a masochist pleasure, but nobody was able to tear me from it.
When I wanted to give up, the sight of me flying high made me clench my teeth and go on, go on trying. Most of all in this life I believed I could, I could fly.
My sister noticed that I used to disappear somewhere. One day she traced me.
I felt her presence with my back, her heavy glare on my backhead. I rose from the snow and looked back. She was standing on the top of the hill. The wind blew about her chocolate hair. The crimson sunset poured red on it and they looked a fire on her head. I smiled. My entertainment wasn’t a secret anymore. There was nothing to grieve about.
Some day she would have known.
Julia stood like a goddess of vengeance with a bag in her hand. I waved to her. Then she walked down to me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“’M training!” – that wasn’t completely a lie. I mastered the science of making a lie into truth..
She grinned. My dislike about PT was well-known.
“Let’s train together!”
I thought a little. I wasn’t losing anything because I didn’t have a thing. She threw her bag on the snow and pointed at the hill. I nodded.
We started immediately from our places. Throughout my training I became very strong physically and running wasn’t a problem, even uphill. I reached the place first and sat on the road waiting for her. Juls was out of breath, red and tousled but I liked it. It was so... uniting. When she came to her senses I told:
“Running downhill is easier!”
“Sh-sh-surely?”
I sniffed and rushed down. The race was so ordinary, so close to me that I hardly felt any discomfort. My heart even didn’t beat faster when I ran.
She didn’t lag behind.
I was happy for some unknown reason. The cold of the air froze my lungs. My fur hood fell from my head and the wind interlaced with my hair. The dust of rime cracked on my tongue although there wasn’t any snow.
I laughed aloud. No particular reason, just crispy freedom around me. The coldness and the whiteness widened the space - there was no more visible boundary between sky and the whiteness. The sea was white too.
My feet suddenly sank in emptiness. I shrieked more of suddenness, than of fear. Next step was spaced too. I waved my hands and the antigravitation force pushed me higher. There was nothing to confuse me this time. The thing that was happening to me I’d been expecting for so long. It seemed a whole life between me and the skies and now we were together, devoted lovers.
I spread my arms, trying to embrace the world and to swallow more freedom, there in the height. I aspired for the skies, the vague winter sun. Again I felt the world and it was mine.
Julia was calm and silent. Like everything around me she wasn’t important now.
This time I wasn’t going to lose a second. The flight boiled in my veins, flushed on my cheeks. It was hot over my body, like over a working engine. Sweet energy drifted through me, made me cry and laugh aloud. I flew to the sea, scooped the cold water and poured it on the fur-seals, that spread their fat bodies under the timid light. I scared the sea-gulls and fish. I touched the sheep of foam, white and hissing. I watched a sunlit path on waters fading away as the darkness overwhelmed.
Then I turned to the mountains. They were gorgeous and majestic. It didn’t take me long to make my way to the very top. There I lingered – the emptiness here was just shouting about itself “This place is free! Come and take it!” I pretended myself to be a medieval witch with a broom or a poker at least. I didn’t know where the poker got out, but it suited the place well. I danced my wild dance, sabbathing like I had a witch experience.
Enough. The thoughts my over-oxygenated head created were enough to have the flight over. Too much of pure oxygen in my veins. Too much of excitement.
Juls still sat on the same place. I descended to her, took her by her hand and pulled up. She was lightweight. But as her feet lost the ground she twitched and snatched out her hand. I lost the certainty and fell on the ground with her. We fluttered in a snowdrift. When I finally got out and helped her, she carefully avoided my searching look.
I couldn’t understand it. She kept silence. She was a profy in offending me – with words, with actions. We had to sort things out. Now. Not tomorrow. Now.
She felt my resolution and dashed down from the hill to get her sack.
“Why?” I blocked her way.
She didn’t look at me.
“Julia, I just don’t understand!”
“Ann!” she suddenly snarled. “You told me kisses disturbed you. Can’t you see that I AM disturbed when my feet lose the ground. I’m normal. I don’t want to run risks, testing my normality with you, uhm, there –“ she twitched at the thought. “I am human! Don’t do that anymore to me. I can’t pretend myself that -, uhm, that... I just can’t, Ann!”
“Why?” I still didn’t understand. “It’s no effort! So much fun!”
“Don’t test my patience, Hannah! If you can’t be normal, just don’t involve me in your jokes! I hate it! There is ground, Hannah! Please, keep to it and you will never fall!”
I shrugged. Tastes differ. But how could she disgust what she never tried?
Having nothing to say, I called her home.
From then on I came to the hill alone. The snow around me used to greet me sparkling, I talked with it. Flying was no more my secret dream, it was as real as my hands spread in the air. No one but my sister knew about my ability, even my parents. Juls never changed her attitude, I didn’t object. Flight was in my veins. It energized me. It infatuated me. Why should she have suffered also?
My running take-offs became more and more experienced with every try. But I still couldn’t rise in the air from my standing place. I didn’t try it, in fact, because I wanted to succeed in running flights firstly, to minimize my falls and injuries. Sometimes I was sad that Julia didn’t participate in my training. There wasn’t anyone to tell me what was wrong each time when I fell and hurt.
The summer after my graduation and entering the university I spent at my grandma's in a countryside. I continued my exercises in fields and in forests, taking off the forest paths. After some attempts I could easily take off on a straight even road. I didn’t need hills anymore and this was a little step forward.
My new friends didn’t seem to like my entertaining at all. People surprised me more and more. They all dreamt about fairy-tales, magic and flying and when it came to life in front of their eyes they refused just to have a try.
Kathe was the only to check if the flying was as great as legends said. I took her in a nighttime raid over the city. We watched the fires, the cars, the streets below and laughed. Well, it was me who laughed. Kathe just clung to my hand with a dead grasp and went pale with every meter higher.
I had to put her on the ground before she fainted on my arms.
My classmates gathered on the roof and watched us in suspicion. There were all of them. And all of them refused to repeat Kathe’s experience on their own. Her pallor was enough to prevent even me from trying again. But I wasn’t that faintful. I liked the flying.
They would never understand me, I knew.
But they did. They saw that flying brought joy and happiness to me and they estimated it too. If I went gloomy, they asked me to have a raid above, to go dispelled. Heaven were my remedy. The more I discovered when broke my hand accidentally. My wrenched bone healed in half an hour while I was soaring in midnight skies. The pain passed by, barely touched me while I was up. My body stopped bleeding, my scars faded and left a smooth skin behind. I healed from pain and from depression. My bad moods vanished in the wind.
My classmates couldn’t not agree flying was a useful thing in my case.
May be the thing was that they hardly believed. I knew what excuses and explanations could a brain create when the reality didn’t fit its ideas of reality. Flying wasn’t concordant with reality they got used to. So they chose a better way – not to accept it, to avoid it, to leave it to me – a girl who had another notion of what was real.
Flight was as real as people around me. I wasn’t mad.

I greeted Kathy with a triumphant smile. Hanging half a meter above the ground without any running – it was the greatest achievement I ever had. Even the success in winter session was nothing near it. I moved my feet in a slightest dance and with the enormous strain I floated to Kath and descended on the bench.
“Sorry” I shrugged. “That’s the most of me. It takes too much of power. Let’s have a sit while I recollect!”
“Cool!” she breathed out with difficulty. I smiled. That was the word she could say in the greatest moments in her life. Laconic and exact – that was she in all her temper. Abruptly her eyes narrowed and face turned pale. My heart faltered.
A guy in an orange T-shirt examined us with interest. He stood in the end of the alley but it was enough to make out what we – especially I – were doing. He lingered some endless moments in a rather confused posture. Huh, surplus audience. Not too smart of me to have chosen this alley.
Thanks to contact lens I saw the guy blink and turn away.
“Do you think he saw?” Katherinah asked only with her lips.
“He saw” I confirmed. “That seems we somehow should take care!”
The way I was going to take care wasn’t any secret. The tone gave me out. Kathe chuckled, although it wasn’t opportune in the situation.
“Don’t flicker! I know him. He is our new classmate. May be we’ll be able to explain everything to him”
“Explain?” I snarled, watching desperately how the newcomer approached. “The best thing we can do now is to act like everything he saw was a fruit of his hallucinations! Got it? No flying! It’s he who’s mad, but none of us! Got it?”
The last question I said through my widest smile, because the orange guy stopped near us. To my surprise he didn’t pay me attention – his look was for Kathe. And it was such a look that she – traitor – blossomed immediately and granted him with a smile. I knew such smiles, Kathe was all to his service, even less brain-having than I used to be while dating with Him...
“Hello” she chanted.
“Hi” he said.
“Want me to give you a tour?” she asked. Me, not us...
I began to steam out.
“No” he said and moved forward.
This time our expressions didn’t vary – the same surprised, jaw-down loss. He even didn’t thank her for the offer. Such impoliteness, such cheek.
I cast a glance on Kathe. Such a resistance to her charms.
Kathe sighed and followed the guy with a pensive look.
“Don’t worry!” I patted her.
It was long of her to recollect and stuck to another subject. She told me of her boyfriends. While conducting tourists around Moscow she made so many friends, that had almost any nationality to chose from. French, she became dreamy-eyes, such good-kissers. Tender and patient. Fuf, and still too stingy. Spaniards - too speedy. So speedy that Kathe couldn’t hold control of the situation for a second. It made her nervous. She didn’t play with fire.
Finns, noble and brave. But not too quick-witted to cooperate with my light-minded Kathe. Japanese... at this point she chuckled.
“What’s wrong with Japanese?” I asked.
“No worthy guy. Only olders. Just olders! A treasure for gerontologist!”
Americans, Mexicans, Italians, two Germans...
Her chirping eased the strain in my body, but couldn’t help fighting with bad thoughts. A flash of orange dwelled in my mind, invaded in my peace. It wasn’t a good beginning, over all.

 
Chapter 3
       Novice.
We burst into the lecture-room when almost everyone was on his place. First lecture in this year was ‘sold out’ – the students even occupied the stairs, with copy-books on their knees. Kathy pulled my sleeve – on the very top of the rows I saw Tany, waving to us. I’ve climbed up and squeezed between her and Alex. When Kathe crammed her bum near me, I choked but hardly could object. The same friction way the others were.
The first lecture was on biochemistry. While the assistant installed the projector, the other one distributed forms to register present students. The avalanche rushed from the top to get the forms first. I waited a little and then scrambled out to have some forms for our group. I took eight slips of paper and turned back to make my way up.
Just a hesitating step – my slipper slid off the stair. I swayed and went headlong. Someone’s iron hand caught me by shoulder and jerked it so that I felt it nearly torn off my body. The fall continued. The same strong arm placed me on the stairs and fixed tightly. I haven’t even time to scream with fear.
I uttered a vague thanks and abruptly realized who was my sudden savior.
A guy in the orange T-shirt! Does he trouble himself to meet me in awkward situations? I stared in his eyes. Sudden tide of anger rose in my soul.
“Thanks!” I repeated. “But I still need my hand!”
He grinned. If I was expecting some spiteful answer I was completely disappointed. He marched to his place three rows lower than mine. There he opened his notebook, took his pencil and began to write. He simply didn’t say a word! He seemed not to care at all. Not to mind if I flew or fell. Not to mind if he saved me. Not to mind my gratitude – nothing at all.
Above all he seemed not to mind me.
  Someone pushed me aside. I came to my senses and stared at the forms in my hand. Huh... I really should blacklist him, I thought. For some unclear reason my senses – those odious inner things called intuition and instincts – shouted not to get mixed up with the guy. Well, I objected, how can I get mixed? He is the one to ignore me.
“Ann, you are a death-seeker! Where have you been traveling?” Alex attacked me straight and grabbed the forms.
“I nearly fell from the stairs!” I complained but he didn’t listen.
He gave away the forms and stuck to his cell-phone.
I put in the form my first and last name, the date and left some space for the question. We had an obligatory rule: if there was something difficult or unclear in the lecture, we wrote our questions on the paper so that the lecturer could advise us on the material. If the question was frequent – the very beginning of the next lecture was dedicated to it. This procedure helped to close the gaps in knowledge.
Of course, not all of us dared to call the instructor for a private conversation. During many of such talks he could discover the absence of any knowledge at all. Alex and Dan had the only question “What was the lecture about?” Sometimes it varied with “Was there a lecture?” and “What’s going on?” There wasn’t surely any use to give them the forms.
Still many students were quite intelligent for an interesting intercourse with a tutor. Many tutors were so popular among the students that they had to minimize such discussions. Our botany instructor Esmeralda, nicknamed so for her looks – a smart dark-eyed gypsy offspring- was overloaded with notes from the boys. If she followed the general rule, we would have to begin the next lecture with picturing her beauty in our notebooks.
Gross!
The sounds died down when the door swept open. An unknown man with a pointer rushed in. Tousled and confused he froze in the middle of the hall, looking around. We watched him with interest, hesitating whether to stand up or not. Nobody could be sure about his age. Thirty for his gait, twenty five for the hair-cut, eighty for the tiredness under his eyes and – finally – shocking five for the eyes themselves. Blue and wide, like two Chinese porcelain saucers, they occupied half of his face. We all were reflecting in them like in mirrors, slightly distorted.
The man found the rostrum and took his place near the computer. Willy-nilly the mocks rustled – we rose on our places, greeting the lecturer. He waved to us, allowing to sit down. The girls around me stared at the lecturer with a bright interest. A murmur hung in the air.
“Is he a...?” Alex muttered.
“Who knows!” I said.
Surely, the instructor was much more of a teenager. I could hardly believe he was the one about molecules and reactions. I would never entrust him to hold my text-book, not to mention lecturing.
He engrossed his name on the desk and put an exclamation mark near it. It was a whole psychological description. I poked Kath into her rib and pointed at the guy.
“How do you like him?”
“I like him” she said.
It was a diagnosis. Falling in love with your teacher had always been the biggest mistake of all the girls. I couldn’t argue – he was a pretty duck at first sight. But everything I saw about his moves, his handwriting, his posture – was talking not for his benefit. I examined Kathy for the first symptoms of oncoming idiotism and sighed. My best friend was going to join the club of “Valerie Alexandrovich- lovers” and I could hardly prevent her from it. Near me Tany vainly tried to bring Mariah back to her senses. We exchanged wild looks and concurrently smiled: we were not only normal people in this universal madness. But for boys, of course.
During the whole lecture I tried different ways to wake Kathy from her oblivion but I succeeded as well as Tany. The subject of lecture didn’t interest any girl in the room. Dozens of eyes followed every slightest movement of the instructor, every word - not understanding what he was talking about. I didn’t listen either. Different plans of rescuing my friends flashed in my brain instead of formulas.
When he said that the lecture was over our boys breathed with relief. They jumped up with enthusiasm and began to hurry up the girls. Trying to over-shout the fuss in the room the teacher reminded of our usual question ritual and suggested to write not only questions but also criticism and wishes. At the same moment a bulk of hands began to scribble on the forms. In my sight Kathy with unearthly face wrote something like “You are the coolest g... lecturer in the world! I wish you could give lectures twice or thrice a weak!”
I chocked. It was nonsense! I couldn’t bear another hour of mournful scientific mutter in a company of stupefied girls in amorous intoxication.
With more enthusiasm than ever before the crowd of excited girls rushed to the newborn idol to touch him, to have a word. I stayed at my place, afraid to be wiped off by the tide. Alex and Dimah remained by my side, blasting the lecturer from the bottom of their hearts. Dan meddled in the crowd, trying to return our forms and to carry off girls.
I gathered Kathy’s things in her sack and went to help Dan. Fortunately, the instructor wasn’t that much of time: I saw him slowly move to the doors. In a big group of the seeing off there was Kathe also. I struggled to make my way through the crowd. Two long-haired girls in front of me started a scuffle for a right to carry the idol’s notes. The fist was more precious to the rival than to me. I met it with my left cheek and winced. My left eye was decorated with a hurt spot going to turn into a valuable bruise. I set aside - someone stopped on my toe, someone poke with his elbow. I couldn’t vie with mad storm around me.
I turned back and made an effort to escape from the flood. The same strong hand that already rescued me today dragged me out and clasped to the wall. I stared at the orange T-shirt guy, breathing broken. He was so close, that I seemed to hear his light, steady heartbeat.
The crowd flowed around us. If the guy left me now, it would tide me away again and may be grind into flour. I wasn’t too big and strong to resist, put it mildly.
May be he noticed the fear in my eyes, or may be he thought of the same thing but he didn’t leave me until the tide faded away and there was no one to make me scare. My relieved exhale gave him OK to let me out of his hug (I just noticed he still had me in a chain of his hands) and step away. I opened my mouth to say another thanks for today, when he stopped me by an impatient wave.
While I was thinking how to rebel, he disappeared.
His silence puzzled and annoyed me. I have never met a person who had nothing to say. But this one... He had nothing to listen to. Like if he had already heard all the words in this universe and they seemed too familiar for him. All of them. I saw the bright spot of his shirt flash in the crowd. His cloths seemed to annoy me too. I liked orange but this tint was too unpleasant for my eyes. Although with my mind I clearly understood it was a simple orange color. That maddened me! There was something wrong with him.
I decided to avoid him as I could.
Huh, nobody wanted to reckon with my preferences. First thing that I saw when entered our classroom was the odious spot of orange. I took my place near Kathy, stealing glances at the shirt.
Kathe worried me even more. I didn’t want her to repeat my mistakes. Affection for a teacher was a waste of time, at least. I didn’t mind myself losing my heart, but Kathe was the one I loved. I didn’t want her to suffer.
She looked quite normal excluding her eyes – shining with excitement. She wouldn’t talk much of the new passion: Kathy wasn’t too wordy ever. I encouraged her in a wanted direction – she plunged into the formulas and diagrams. For me the concentration was impossible – with a thorn by my side. I went through some pages when noticed that the world around me jinxed orange.
Leuce noticed my nervousness:
“You weren’t so jumpy in the morning, Baby An? Did the wasp give you a sting?”
“It’s the splinter in my but!” I snarled.
I mesmerized the orange spot so that there were no doubts left who my splinter was. Leuce caught her wind and whispered in my ear.
“Strange guy, isn’t he? He’s got such a name – Philip! The deans appointed him to our group ‘cause we are only eight of us! He wanted a perfect nine! I was in the dean's office yesterday, after the library, and the secretary told me, that his mother is Spaniard. He lived for all his life in Spain but now his family moved to Moscow and he has to continue his classes here!”
“How old is he?”
“He’s twenty three! Poor guy, he took pains in a Spanish university for four years! Now he has to go through it again!” she smiled so if she barely pitied him at all.
Such strange love to the closest one was her usual condition. She had a sharp tongue and never lost her chance to sting you with poison. Almost everything she said was double-meaning, scoffing or just sarcastic. Many girls in our course wanted to cut her snaky tongue. As for us, it helped to be in tone, and to accept problems with black humor.
Even the problems sometimes were afraid of people with black humor. Leuce operated it with an easiness of a professional surgeon, dissecting abscesses. She was the first who called me ‘tremendous idiotina’ when I shared my dismal story with others. And she was the first – also – to suggest some circumcision for my ex-boyfriend.
Whatever cruel Leucy seemed to people, the only cruelties were spoken, not done. She could mock and burn you with words, but it never prevented her form holding to you a helping hand in a moment of trouble. She was the first to put you down. She was the first to rescue you from anything you suffered.
Leuce wasn’t guilty that her ideas of cheering up were different with other’s.
“Well, he must be hard to get used to new place!” she added thoughtfully and lost her interest.
The boy took place in the very end of the table, put out his notebook and textbook and began writing. I scrutinized him as if trying to get his every lineament fixed and sealed in my mind for eternity.
If someone asked me I would lie the guy was ordinary.
But he was brilliant. And it was another ‘fine’ deed in my list of sins. The old proverb that the man must be a little more smarter than an ape worked in my case. Men had to be intelligent to have my favor, but not that awesome.
Philip could easily pass for a museum display. Nature had spent tons of purest beauty to create such a sample. His bronzy skin reminded of Mediterranean olives and I could bet it smelled salty waters. The sun needed hundreds of days making such a perfect texture of the skin, co-operating with waves and gentle winds. The cheek-bones were so sharp and so confident that they seemed to be carved by a proficient engraver. The raven hair was shoulder length, gently descending upon the bronze of his neck. A naughty lock curled around the ear and touched his lips so that he had to blow it away. The lips... as my glare touched them, he licked them and I choked. That was my forbidden area, I reminded myself.
But I couldn’t help watching. May be, it’s the greatest beauty I would ever see in my life, so why don’t admire, while he’s not aware.
His ardent lips revealed warmth from inside me. I didn’t want it out,but it already flushed on my cheeks. I restrained the curiosity but it didn’t obey. My eyes didn’t want to leave this paradise unexplored. Moreover, my hands wanted to participate too. And my lips. And the entire body was also concordant.
No, I almost cried out. Not anymore! I moved my look to less dangerous area. It didn’t help.
The deepest and hardest did the eyes charm. If everything in his face was about the South sun, the soft waves, the tenderness of the breeze his eyes were filled with the coldness of North. There were crystal pieces of ice in this goblet of absinth. Green like the paths of laminaria in my dearest northern sea, they were covered with rime and crackled with the slight blue crust.
These absinth eyes were of such a high alcohol degree that burning could barely help them. Even the icebergs of indifference in them didn’t help me swallow loudly. How could God let him have these eyes of a Deuce? It was a sacrilege. The eyes could burn me to ashes, even my poor heart, even my steadiness. Could they shine? Or burn? With rage? With love? With ecstasy?
He raised his head. I didn’t have time to draw aside the glance. The familiar grin appeared on his lips. I shivered. That was the god’s mockery over his looks of a miracle, an elf of Mediterranean. The grin charmed him into a beast stalking for a victim. With such a grin you could kill children, rape women and slay fathers. With such a grin you could be the center of world’s evil and enjoy it with all your heart.
The grin. Was it his curse? Or his pride? Or he was used to it like a vampire to his fangs? Could he smile friendly, like other people do? Or was this grin the only gift given him by nature? I wanted to imagine how he looked when he smiled kindly. I failed. The vision of him killing me somewhere in a dead end was so strong that I choked.
The fears – they were the point. It was a year since I had been cured. I learnt how to keep cool, how to restrain fear inside of me so that it couldn’t betray me. I learnt and avoided everything that could make it strong again. I wasn’t a fighter, I didn’t want the old battle to begin anew. If I did, I wouldn’t be a winner, cause there were no powers in me left to face, not to mention fighting itself. I denied everything that could reveal my old nightmares.
When the tutoress entered the classroom we leaped up, excited to see her again. Marina Alexandrovna was a good person, a good teacher of biochemistry and we were already used to her, quite aware of her demands and preferences. Today seemed to be run out of surprises.
  After a short discussion of our vacations we were about to set for the practice-work when Leuce, trying to put off the torture, mentioned our new lecturer. The respond sigh was so harmonious that Marina chuckled.
“Well, I see you liked him. Valerie Alexandrovich doesn’t look like a venerable scientist but it’s really better. I think you remember quite well what happened when the head of apoptosis department came to give lectures!” – she smiled again.
We couldn’t help laughing at the memory. A nice old man with a beard demonstrated us a modern experiment. Because the subject of the trial was far from our main theme, we broke our heads reasoning out what he showed to us. Proteins, electrophoresis, cell-death inhibitors, they were an empty sound that knocked our brains but didn’t get in. Even Helen, the main swot of our faculty, went nuts.
Thus when something went wrong with the experiment, we didn’t pay any attention. The solution boiled not in a proper time, the cell didn’t transcript right. The professor got confused and decided to redo the trial. We watched him. When the wrongness repeated, the old respectable man began to hop over the hall and shout different swearwords. We had only one way – to call for the psycho-carriage.
After some days in a mental hospital the doctors came to know that the professor was quite normal, moreover he was on the verge of creating an anti-death substance.
From then on, our faculty had a shortage of lecturers. Nobody wanted to carry on his trials in a psycho ward.
“So, lads, you should listen carefully to Valerie Alexandrovich. We hope he won’t find himself in a psycho clinic. Otherwise there won’t be anyone to teach you at all. Take care of him!”
I hissed. Our girls nodded enthusiastically, each of them pretending how she will take care of the poor guy. With such wild interest he will end in the same psycho-house with his precursor, suffocated with loving care. Well, that didn’t matter for me, I wasn’t a philanthropic imbecile trying to save the whole world from itself, and of course, the guy who didn’t want to be saved.
“How old is he?” I asked.
The girls from the Club turned to me.
The tutor continued smiling.
I waited for an answer. Although, the question was really indecent, as if I asked wheher he had a right to hold the rostrum.
“I could bet on someone would ask! He is twenty three!”
I heard a constrained chock from the end of the table. That was a stone in Philip’s garden. I peeked at him. Usual mask of coldness and detachment fell from his face for a second: the confusion and perplex were seen clearly. The confused beast was more than I could bear and I fell from the chair.
We set to draw some useless diagrams, bereaving the only ruler from each other. The tutoress left us in a slight creative fuss and we could talk openly. The only subject of the conversation had a definite name. Soon we divided in two groups: pro and contra. Our debates were vain. The arguments pro were quite various. They included “his smile is so perfect”, “his eyes are so divine”, “his hair, his cheeks, his body, his stomach, his bum”. The contra arguments came to a short but capacious Dimah’s “he’s such a nerd’.
Even my steady best-friend with a rage defended her right to worship dear Valerie. Of course, I said, this right is sacred. This great right to make foolery. She turned away and took offense. That would prevent her from sharing her idiotic dreams with me. The abundance of the name around me made me sick.
“Let’s have a smoko, Anne!” Dimah dragged me out of the table.
“It’s shit!” he concluded when I comforted myself on the seat in the hall.
Dimah had a striking ability to describe the situation so precisely. I couldn’t find a proper word but it was quite simple and obnoxious.
“That’s OK! The girls need a little shock to set about the classes!” I said.
“Uhum, I see... a little shock!” he drew in and smiled peacefully. “Do you really believe in this bullshit?”
I waved to make the clouds of smock float away from me. I didn’t smoke and tried my best to cure my friends of it, but in two months of vain endeavors I proclaimed they would end with a lung cancer and considered my mission to be fulfilled.
Now sitting next to Dimah I felt the smell of tobacco and it seemed to be easing something inside me. I was always fond of psychology and mastered the prospect rule carefully – never try to psychologize yourself. Life was difficult enough without any introspection. So I could hardly realize what was wrong with me today – I felt some itching within. And – to my greatest surprise – it wasn’t annoying.
Like a baby who drags his mother somewhere to show her a miracle, this itching was calling me and I wanted to go. What were the the whys and wherefores? Who? Or what? I remembered the guy in an orange shirt. Then the man with a laser pointer. No, the reason was not in them, but... where?
Abruptly I noticed Dimah was talking about something. With me. I constructed a smile on my lips and he shut up.
“You weren’t listening, Baby Ann!”
No censure in his words. That’s all of Dimah. He rides a thought, then changes his mind and makes his way back on the other idea. He was gushing out with suggestions, most of which were impossible. In some kind, Dimah was omnipotent, not knowing that his powers were limited. It was a thankless business to educate him about it, although some of us tried.
“I was thinking of a new guy!”
“Ah, Phil! He’s cool!”
He’s cool. That meant only one thing – the guy accepted to visit a bar with Dimah after the classes. I groaned. Usually such visits ended in the other side of the city, under the table of a nightclub or at Kathy’s where she brought our superhero in a beyond himself condition. I memorized I had to warn Kath about the future operation – a sleepless night was guaranteed.
“Where do you go?”
“To “The great pies”! They are having a ‘drink me down’ competition tonight! I thought we could get to know each other better if compete in a team!”
It meant only one thing – they were going to begin with “The great pies”. Only god knew where they would end.
“Why not something more... socially acceptable?”
He looked at me like I was a craze and tossed the butt in the litter-bin.
“OK, when have you noosed him?”
“Yesterday!”
I popped my eyes up. Everyone had visited the university yesterday, but me.
“Have I missed something? What have you done there?”
“I got the practice-books!” he lied without betting an eye-lid.
I frowned.
“You had a good last year without any practice-books! Don’t noodle me up with this bullshit! What did you do there?”
He looked around for a way to get out. I caught him by a sleeve of the mock when he started from his place. My grasp was strong enough to hold him by my side.
“Dimm?”
“Uhmm, what?”
“What have you done there?” I insisted.
“We went to look on the guy!” he confessed.
“Philip?” I specified.
“Uhmm, uhu!”
I laughed.
“What’s funny?” it was his turn to be puzzled.
I ignored his question and still giggling entered the room. The debates were in the very heat, Dan and Alex holding the positions. Mary and Kathe followed a rule of the best defense and attacked the boys. The fire of mutual reproaches, scorn and names turned the room in a battlefield and I carefully stole by them, trying not to get under the fire. Valerie Alexandrovich had nothing to do with it. The battle was going to turn into a local war.
Leuce and Tany took places father from the tribunes and tried to draw something out from our Spanish student. They didn’t seem to succeed. Nevertheless, I could bet on, it was the first time he came across with such vigor. He answered briefly, limiting himself with ‘yes’ and ‘no’. I hesitated for a moment whether to join the game or take my place and chose the latter. The pals were about to begin the fight. Someone had to relax the tension.
I stopped Kathy’s hand ready to let a heavy text-book on Alex’s head. I took away the book and offered to set up for work to have it finished till the teacher returned. Kathy and Mariah returned to their notes, casting angry glares above the practice-books.
I tried to manage with metabolism of fat in the body. The same nervous itching between my shovels made me jump up and rush somewhere. The energy that boiled in me had nothing peaceful in it. With the hardest strain I stopped my legs and glued myself to the chair. If I didn’t know, I would think it were my wings, growing.
Solving some biochemical tasks became impossible, I could barely catch my ideas and combine them into a decent thinking. My body seemed to linger in the classroom whereas my consciousness was already in its special – still indefinite - place.
I shook my head and realized I was staring on the ceiling. No one noticed my foolish behavior. Next to me, Kathy tried to pretend she was writing on her own, every single minute spying my answers. She rarely cheated, but if she did – you could certainly say she was in unsuitable mood to think by herself. Of course, she was thinking about the lecturer (damn him!) and how everyone was unfair to him. ‘Everyone’ of course were boys and Leuce with me. By Kath, we deserved a public consuming with prior torments.
In front of me, Dimah drew funny figures in his note-book. I liked them more than the formulas in mine. Especially, the one – it was a little man in roller skates, making fancy pas on the rink. For him, Dimah added a smiling girl with the biggest eyes ever possible and a bunch of roses. She also was in roller skates. She reached out the roses to the boy while he was looking for his way to escape. I sniffed.
The pencil in Dimah’s fingers froze. He pressed it in his fist and the pencil crumbled to dust. Than he stared at me guiltily.
“Sorry!” he said.
That was alright. Despite all the guess-work, I wasn’t annoyed with any little hint on matching, couples, loves, desires and partings. It was all nothing to me, but as I already knew – it was vain to explain this simple truth to my friends. In their great intention not to hurt me they hurt me twice more.
I turned to the freshman. The whole his appearance cried “don’t touch me, I am dangerous, don’t touch me, I don’t want to be touched”. But Tany and Leuce tested his patience with frankness of the kindergarten residents. He was a tough cookie. Leuce was tougher. If she wanted to draw something out she would not need a minute for it. But she also liked the game of “no and yes’. She liked it like a cat likes to play with a caught mouse – before having it in its stomach.
I decided to investigate the deal by myself and took a chair to the left of the boy. He sized me with a cold glance and turned to Leuce. I couldn’t realize what I’d done wrong to make him act like this. That was filthy!
“So, do you want to stay in Russia for... long?” Tany providently changed the “forever” for a lighter “long”.
“Nope!”
“Oh, what a pity! And you want to go to Spain then?” Leuce caught the baton.
“Nope!”
“And where do you want to go then?” I asked.
Tany and Leuce sighed disappointed, like I’d just solecized. He didn’t answer. And I understood! I turned to Leuce and asked:
“I’ve got! He’s bad in Russian. That is why all the nopes and yeps, isn’t that?”
Tany twisted her finger near my temple. Philip stared at me with interest, no grin – just interest. I applied to him.
“Hablas tu russe?”
He choked.
“I don’t know you!” Leuce rushed to the door. Tany followed her step in step, giggling.
I froze. A familiar tide of terror flooded over me. For no particular reason it attacked me sometimes, but please, not now, not that crimson oblivion, no – please –
I suffocated. Searching for support I snatched something so hard that my fingers almost tore it in pieces. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to save me for long. I was drowning, going down, choking with blood and tears.
“No” someone around me wept.
Through the darkness of all red tints I saw His face. There was silence in my exploding head and then words, so evil and short “I’m leaving”. The sound of breaking glass (was it my heart?). Blood, blood over the tile, on the wallpapers, flowing down my skin. I still couldn’t remember where the blood came from. I saw yellow roses scattered all over the floor. There were sixteen of them – the funeral number.
“No” that was my voice, strong enough to break the walls.
Now, in long time passed I was able to stand it, to resist. I could.
I opened my eyes and stared in Philip’s face.
“Are you okay, Baby Ann?” Dimah touched my shoulder.
I went on shivering. Dimah waved his hand around my shoulder and lead to my chair. I sat and began to do the breathing exercises. They used to help.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
My vision cleared up. Everyone watched me suspiciously, concern on their faces.I tried not to glance at Philip. This was only our secret. I didn’t want a stranger to be involved in my problems. I smiled encouraging.
As it always did, the fit passed quickly and left behind nothing, but discomfort.
“Don’t hurt her anymore, got it?” Dimah raised his voice. “Don’t hurt her!”
“I won’t ever!” in a clearest Russian Philip said.
Dimah nodded and left the room to have one more cigarette.
I didn’t need much time to recover. I plunged into the book and was all devoured in organic acids and oxidation. Nobody talked to me. Well, in fact nobody talked. Marina came to collect the notes, surprised with the silence. I didn’t want anyone to ask questions, because they were the only one question – “did I see it again?”
I would never tell them the truth ‘cause I didn’t know what it was. The memory betrayed me – nothing could reveal to me what happened that day. Only separate pictures came from the safes, and the whole puzzle didn’t put together. Today I saw the familiar frames – the roses and the blood. What a triteness!
Sixteen flowers in a pool of red liquid. It glued my fingers and smelled with fresh iron. The smell tickled my nostrils, crawled into my nose and curled there into a ball. But the most of all my weakness hurt me - I’d committed a suicide, cutting off my veins because of the boy who abandoned me.
Well, I could – he was my first love and my mind had never been firm and stable enough to keep on going like I’ve never been hurt. I could – my heart broke and the body wasn’t needed anymore. I could – the love, the hope, everything was thrown to the ground in the very extreme of the flight so that my existence fell with them – twisting in the air. Who did say that the free fall was like flying?
Thanks to Dimah I wasn’t send to a mental hospital where all the suicidals get in the end. I passed a course of therapy at home under the incessant supervision of my friends. Since they saw I was able to act appropriately, they behaved like nothing had happened to me except that awkward situation when a guy left a girl. Only Dimah after a pensive silence answered:
“Keep clear of him, Anne!”
In arguments with my memory I lost: that night was buried deep within my mind. But sometimes it surfaced, testing my patience and confidence. Those moments I was a lone spectator in a cinema, staring in a void screen where rare frames appeared like the pieces of a puzzle. It was a small budget thriller without any stars in the cast but I sat and watched, crumpling a ticket in my fingers.
The fits were always sudden and scary. Although the thing repeated many times, I still couldn’t get used to it. Every time I hoped was the last one.

We left the building at noon. The sun was in its whole might, evaporating the liquid from our bodies. I pulled off my white smock and crammed in the sack. So did the girls, shaking off the skirts. Tany – the only unlucky in jeans – breathed hard and hurried in the shadow. I stole a glance at our freshman. He stood not far from us drinking mineral water from the bottle. Tany sighed: some time ago here was a stall with coke and biscuits. Instead – a little mobile-phones shop squeezed between two office buildings.
“Freaks! People seem to talk cell phones all the day without eating, drinking and sleeping!” Tany groaned. “I’ll write them off if I die now!”
Maria eyed her with surprise, and without saying a word danced her usual almost flying gait to Philip. After a little air saw she returned to us with a can of coke and a Snickers.
“You’re a fairy!” Leuce admired. “How had you! He’s such a tough nut!” Mary got something to answer but Leuce laughed “Don’t gas me with all your girlie tricky! He’s a Terminator! Moreover, the bar of concrete about women!”
“What do you mean?” Dimah took the chocolate-bar, sniffed it and gave to me. The bar passed the testing – no spyware and viruses were detected. I handed the Snickers to Kathy and she shared it with Leuce and Tany equally.
“He’s not your rival! Bet on, he has a board “Girls are waste!” at home. He thinks about the career, the money, the cars, the books, the sports, the friends but not about girls!”
“Uhm, our general specialist on men diagnosed our new friend a eunuch!” Alex hee-hawed.
I examined Philip. His voice was okay and the figure was quite masculine. But most of all those eyes barely did leave any doubts about manliness of their owner. I was about to object but Leuce outstripped me.
“I didn’t mean he has problems with sex! I would be the first to rebut such an idea!”
We burst out laughing.
“Moreover, I bet thousand bucks he’s better than Dimah!”
The laughter became tearful and heart-twisting. While Dimah was trying to overwhelm the first shock, Leuce continued:
“But he’s not the one about girls. He’s higher than all this fuss with dating!”
“How’s it?” Dimah decided not to put to discussion his bed-abilities and stuck to our main subject. It was a little awkward for me to have his coke and to discuss at the moment his personality.
“It’s... like our Baby Anne. She’s also too intelligent for boys!”
I didn’t get offended.
“He doesn’t look abandoned!” I remarked.
“He’s not! A complete block-head won’t ever risk to leave him! He looks like if he is a Bluebeard!”
It was a second confirmation to my own thoughts but here in the dazzling sunlight it appeared a drunk delirium. So I joined the common laughter.
“How did you get over him, Mare?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“Simply, I asked if he could share his frugal drink with us and he gave me the can. That’s all!”
“And the chocolate? For beautiful eyes?”
“For white teeth and healthy breathing!” Mariah snarled. “He just gave it to me!”
“What did he say?” Leuce stuck to her favorite subject and was hard to divert.
“Nothing!” Mary twisted her finger near the temple, all her looks showing she met us in a zoo.
It was in his rules – to do something without saying a word. We highlighted the words, we praised them like they were the engine of this universe when a simple Spanish boy was so terse that seemed to be dumb. I remembered the silence with Mike – it was full of words although they weren’t said. What would be the silence with Philip like? Will it be wordy or numb? I shook my head, spurning unexpected thoughts.
“By the way, Dimah’s conducting a tour around Moscow for our Spanish friend tonight! And they are getting to begin with “Great pies”!”
“Nooooo!” Kathy languished.
Tears appeared in her beautiful eyes – they were natural. For her, Dimah was a vampire who sucked her blood every full moon when he went hunting in night clubs. Every fest like this ended in Kathy’s bed, Kathy sharing a couch with me. And me – healing her heart wounds: Dimah was her dream from the very moment they met. For all her endearment and care she had to snatch Dimah from furious club blondes as I picked her drunk dream from under the bar counter.
Bless the god, Kathy’s feeling for Dimah was kind and tranquil – no agony and jealousy. A light feeling without any hope for a response. She smiled to every Dima’s passion, taking him for what he was. But sometimes she got out of her limits – raging real hysterics with breaking plates and hard blows. If Dimah was firm in his decision to have tonight out, tomorrow's morning would be exactly that stormy.
“Dimah! You’ve heard what I said! One more try and you can get a coffin!”
“Easy, woman!”
I stopped Kathe when her fists were millimeter from Dima’s sleek face. It would be a lesson for him if her sharp nails left marks on his soft skin – scars wouldn’t add him any loveliness. Kathe snarled and rushed to the building where she could let off steam.
“Be nice to her! It’s Kathy who saves your bald head every time you run off the rails! Got it?”
“Shit you off, girls!” He threw angrily. “Who let you command?”
In silence we watched him jump off the bench and go to Philip. The Spaniard distracted from his usual writing and made some space for Dimah. We couldn’t hear what the speech was about but the gestures and the expression of Dimah’s face talked clearly: the girls were stigmatized fools, chickens, idiots and all other funny words Dimah could remember. His interlocutor was tranquil – he managed only to eye Dimah.
Then Dimah began to draw silhouettes in the air. The first – stocky and with big bosom – was, obviously, Leuce. A definite ‘fag’ came from her side. The second was, on the contrary, tall, thin and with a clear movement Dimah demonstrated invisible curls. Fortunately, Kathe didn’t see the gesture made after such a presentation. Then came the turns of Mary and Tany – our inseparable twins were shown simply – two forefingers. Mary advised Tany not to get mad. Then Dimah created figures of our boys and attended them with two kicks. Alex didn’t react – he was all absorbed in devouring a hamburger that he got in a McDonald’s this early morning. Dan was almost asleep, leaning on my shoulder.
Then to my greatest surprise Philip asked Dimah something. It took Dimah a minute to find a proper answer. But what an answer was it! He twisted his finger around his temple and danced something wild and indigenous. That was about me, as I guessed by Philip’s glance that touched my forehead and burnt my skin. I sticked my tongue out and laughed.
Dimah was at loss.
I jumped from my place on the ground, and repeated Dima’s funny dance with much more passion and grace. I added to his awkward movements some more organized, some difficult pas, hearing optimistic music in my head. “I wanna wish you a merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart!” I sang gaily, finishing my performance with a low bow.
Some students applauded me and called encore. I had to bow again to ease the shouts.
“What a scum!” Mary verdicted, when I took my place.
Tany nodded.
“Are you saying he’s gonna to have a night out?” Leuce asked.
It was my turn to nod.
“So, don’t rescue him tonight, Baby Ann! Let this rascal spend a night in a sobering’s!”
It would be hard to explain Kathy why we had to let her awful Dimah have a pleasant night with alcoholics. Willy-nilly we’ll have a great night on Kathy’s couch. I offered her to buy a valuable bed but she was addicted to her couch-nights. As for me, after every night like this I promised myself to murder Dimah somewhere in a dark lane. Once, probably tonight, I will keep my word.
Even though it was difficult for me I felt sympathy for the guy that was to stand a great booze-up and then an awful battle in a club with furious Katherina. Fuf, I smiled, not a simple booze-up but a full Russian ‘drink me down’ competition. What will happen to his beastful grin when he has to meet it face to face?

 
Chapter 4
Drunken

I was at Kathy’s in half past nine, armed and alarmed. She opened the door in pajamas with a toothbrush in her foamed mouth. I pushed her away and intruded in her chamber. The sofa – soft and enticing – called for me so that I could hardly resist. While Katherina was embracing her pillow I had to go shopping with my sister who had nothing to wear for her date. From the great pile of rejected variants I got that the date would be in ‘National’, not less.
I sank in the sofa, pulled the blanket on my head and pretended to be sleeping. In two minutes Kathy was jumping on me, dragging the blanket away. We struggled for a little than I surrendered it to her and left the sofa with a breath of disappointment.
“If you want to sleep, you should have stayed at home!” she pointed a hand with a sock to me.
I threw the second one, and she got it in the air.
“And who will dry your tears tonight?”
She sized me with a furious glance but said nothing. While she changed her pajamas for more suitable jeans and a pullover, I went to the kitchen. The potter was cold but I was so tired that was ready even for a cold slop called coffee. If there was a bag of tea, one little, tiny tea-bag for me.
Kathy’s lads drank tea only when the whole city ran out of coffee. Means, never.
Kathy got dressed finally, took her cell-phone and drove me out of the flat. I farewelled the sofa with a sigh, quite aware that it was not for me, but for Dimah, damn idiot.
While we waited for the lift I discovered I still had the cup. Kath tossed it in the bin, splashing the remainders of coffee on the floor. Her angry stare prevented me from mourning over it, although there was more coffee on the floor, than in my poor stomach now. A sandwich wouldn’t be excess, too.
We went out of the porch – the sun was in its usual fight with the darkness and still – winning. The evening was shy, a little stripe of heaven was colored violet. The pale moon set to brighten. We followed the alleyway.
Coffee still occupied my brains when I noticed we weren’t any closer to metro. I stopped Kathe and demanded explanations.
“Where are you going, Kathe?”
“In the park!”
There was a little park near her house, always full with crying babies, carriages, huggies and sandy Easter cakes in the sand-boxes. In the night it was deserted – even drunk companies and kissing twosomes tried to avoid it. An old legend said that a careless mommy lost her baby in this park one dark night. She strolled around the park calling for her baby, with a torch but never found. So, the legend scared, she hung herself on the big elm and from then on her disconsolate ghost ... and so on, like all the urban legends use to frighten little children.
All in all, what did Dimah forget in the park on such a moony night?
“He isn’t in the park, is he?” I specified.
“Are you a craze? Of course, not! I just want to think a little!”
“Couldn’t you chose a more optimistic place for thinking?” I snarled.
“Are you scared, Anne?” she teased me. It wasn’t my case. I made her lean on the lamppost.
“Listen, Kath! Did Dimah call you?”
She nodded.
“He didn’t want you to take him home, did he?”
“I hate when you ask this questions: did he, didn’t he? Yes, he called me a dull cow with curls instead of brains!” she began to cry. Well, this night was extraordinary in all the meanings: I had to offer my shoulder before the operation, not after.
“If you don’t stop the flood I will agree with him! Did you leave your brains at the hairdresser’s?”
She breathed hard but I saw comprehension in her face.
“OK, now pluck up and concentrate! Say did he every such party that you are an idiot, a lump, a jerk, a nerd! What’s different now? He’s drunk and he needs help! Got it?”
She nodded and spread the snots all over her red face. I sighed and wiped them from her cheeks.
“Where is he?”
        She shrugged. Huh, cool. If I don’t find a way Dimah will meet the morning at the sobering’s. Rapidly I went through all the possible variants – the conclusion was pessimistic. Dimah began in “The great pies” but no soothsayer could predict where he would end. I could only pray he was in Moscow. The idea to check all the clubs in the city didn’t make sense to me. Kathy seemed to understand it as well as I did – her face got wry and pursy.
I took the cell-phone and dialed Dimah.
An automat-girl was sorry but this subscriber had turned off his phone or was out of access. I was about to throw the phone in the wall to let off steam.
Kathy watched me so devotedly that it was a crime to disappoint her belief.
“Ah well!” The idea that crossed my mind was not lacking elegance so I dialed Leuce.
In some moments she connected. Unlike us she was getting her jollies. The sounds of hard rock tore my phone in pieces so that I dropped the phone and cursed. When I picked it from the ground, Leuce was still on the line. She had an inexhaustible supply of patience, provided, surely, by a heavy tankard in her hand – invisible, but audible. She sipped loudly and asked what I needed.
“Get Kathe along and row here! We are all rocking at “Midnight tear”! The nerds are here also!”
There came a vague sound of slap and Alex’s content giggle.
“Well, okay, okay, the buds are here, too!” she amended, not too happy with it. “Drive here, Baby, and get Kathe along!”
“Nope, thanks, I need a number!”
Phenomenal sociality of this girl was incredible. Her phone-book included hundreds of numbers. She seemed to know every single of twelve millions of Moscow residents. She had a number of any star that resided in Moscow or visited it once in a life. She could easily find a work of a PR-manager if the destiny hadn’t cast her in medical academy.
“My credit card? Baby Anne, you are naughty!”
“Ease, Leucy, I need a phone number!”
It was very hard to explain whose number I needed.
“I see, Dimah Bilan? Baby Ann? Oh, you are not about sweety boys! May be, Joanna Aguzarova?”
“Missed your guess! Philip!”
“Nobillar? Our Spanish macho?”
“The very him!”
There came a hiss, than the muttering and finally the laughter.
“Want to try your luck? Helps you God! The girls ask you to memorize everything in details: the kiss, the touch and the si..
“GO, shut up, amoral doxy! I need a number, not a bed adventure!”
“It’s better to be a whore than a votary! Can I confess to you, padre?”
I got fed up with her damned wit.
“A number, Leuce, or don’t you simply have it?”
No one could ever suspect her in deficient knowledge. She became serious and dictated the number without a moment hitch as if she had the number scribbled on her palm, ready to use.
I turned her off before she began to advise me upon the condoms I should buy.
I saved the number in the memory of my cell-phone and then dialed it. I had been listening to the toots for a minute when he answered. Actually I was about to believe he needed his phone only to check time, but not talk. When the unfamiliar male voice said a calm, velvet “Si” I felt the absinth scratched my throat and burn my stomach.
Flowing down my throat it erased all the thoughts from my head so that I got it empty and useless. Now, when I needed it most of all to prevent my body from melting and crumbling to ashes.
“Sorry, this is Hannah!”
“Hannah?” the velvet wrapped me in warmth and tickled my neck with slightest surprise.
Nobody called me my full name in the university so I specified:
“It’s Baby Ann!”
The cell phone was silent. Unexpectedly, I felt some inconfidence. I seemed not to be a person he would like for a talk. “Can you hear me?” I insisted.
The same soft velvet voice touched my ear with the lightest “si” in the world.
“Is Dimah with you?”
If he was going to utter another “si” I wouldn’t bear it. I would sink and never resurface again.
“We are at “Paraiso”! He’s okay! I’ll get him home!”
“Really?” I was so surprised that bit my tongue.
“Of course you can have him, but I think I will have less problems tearing him from those blondes at the counter!”
I wished I hadn’t made the sound in my phone so loud. Bearing with Dima’s usual passions, Kate couldn’t stand bar-hunting girls. The mention of blondes near her loveliest Dimah made her boil , she grabbed me by my hand and dragged to the subway, scolding and cursing.
“We’ll be in twenty minutes”, Kathe shouted into the cell and snatched it out.
I was only to follow her, wishing the anger would cease to the time we’re at place. Kathe didn’t seem to calm down ever in this life. She was steaming, no, she was exploding with fury and I was the nearest one to this volcano, almost knee-high in lava. Meanwhile it didn’t burn, but every incorrect breath from my side would bring this scourge of gods down on my head. She didn’t even take a free place in the half-empty wagon. Instead, she began to but and ben, murmuring something. Her face changed from pale to red and back. Her acid curls romped in an occult ecstasy. There was a demon in her, and this one wasn’t afraid of any exorcism.
Poor spectators, lone passengers, watched her fuss with wary suspicion. A tall dark-haired boy opposite me winced conspiratorially. “No”, I slightly shook my head. “Stay where you are! Pay no attention!”
Abruptly she stopped and stared at me. I broke up my grimacing and straightened up, preparing to stand my ground if Kathe decided to have a test of her fighting skills on me.
“I’ll kill him this time!” she claimed.
If I were Dimah I would no longer stay in the city. She said it in such a tone that on the next station the wagon was absolutely empty.
 “Well,” she concluded all her fuss when we left the subway, “he’s gonna chose: me or these flirties around him”.
No one could predict what reaction this would cause on Dimah. He might burst out with scolding, he might laugh and send Kathe to the hell. He could even make the choice Kathe liked or not liked. Probably, tomorrow Kathe will cool off. May be – and that was more likely – she would bring all the troubles upon his head until he proposes to her.
It wasn't such a bad idea for Dimah. It could help him steady down.
When the entrance of the club appeared in my sight Kathy hesitated.
“What’s wrong? We are late to retreat!”
“My dress” she sighed. “It’s not a club costume!”
I groaned.
“Are you going to dance indeed? Then you can have a party without me!”
“Don’t fire, Baby Ann! We’ll take our guys and sail away! Suits?”
“Perfectly. Guys? Are you going to take both of them?”
I pretended Kathe trying to force the Beast. It would be worth seeing.
“We’ll see!” she suddenly cheered up.
I didn’t like the last statement but said nothing.
We bought tickets and passed the security post. Two bulls in uniform checked us, surprised we had no hand-bags. Kathe sized them with a pensive look, calculating what they could do to interfere with her plans. I faked a smile, acting like a brainless barby girl, trying to shade down Kathe’s belligerence. After the search we were let to the big doors. Kathe burst into the dancing hall, dying to begin the battle. I followed her step by step, down-knocked with unpleasant premonition.
The ‘premonition’ didn’t make me wait.
The music was beating so hard as if it intended to ram down the walls. I locked my ears and looked around - the party was in full swing, raging and swirling. I probed for Kathe’s hand to keep safe, but she barely noticed me, scanning the dancing floor for a familiar guy. Well, if Dimah was somewhere here we would probably notice a crowd of girlies around him first. Kathe seemed to have thought the same thing and her look slipped to the upper floor. Like a bloodhound she sniffed and analyzed, taking few seconds to get the control over situation.
I was just a needless addition. I got it in the minute when two drunk guys in leather happened on us. They looked for our favor and the look wasn’t promising anything good. I wanted to warn Kathe but she allowed me to take the fire upon myself. She stole between me and the wall and lost in the crowd. I was left alone face to face with two not quite sober guys. I tried my best to repeat Kathe’s maneuver with the wall, but the guys annoyed with the disappearance of the first girl weren’t going to let me escape. I smiled warily. Huh... caged.
Throughout my whole life I barely needed anyone to take care of me, to belong to anyone. Despite all my wishes, people around me considered me unprotected, unowned and therefore – wanted to comfort me. They never thought that my ideas of comfort weren’t any the same with their ones.
These two leather-guys inherited the same tendency. I didn’t have beer in my hands – by them, I should have been given. I wasn’t drunk – by them, I should have been made drunk.
And if I refused...
I took the beer offered to me by the guy. He was tall but puny, his stale hair long and awry cut. I could dump him down with a slightest of blows. I didn’t even need any karate skills.
The snoot of his friend wasn’t leaving me a chance to live long after this only blow. He could easily cope with the security bulls, not to mention poor Anne. I wouldn’t like to block his road to the thing he wanted. In fact, this night I seemed to be a thing he wanted. I winced when this second bull grabbed my hand and trailed me to the counter. I followed him already unsmiling, wishing it wasn’t me who was his prize today. He looked like he had been rocking here for almost two days unstopping, but still had enough strength to enthrall me in this raging dance.
As for the word ‘raging’, it was as suitable as never. Hard drums, tearing strings, electro-guitars exploding with unbearable roar, tramping and shrieking – it all reduced your way to an asylum.
I’d been to this club many times but never noticed it was so hellish there. Dozens of long-haired men, women of different degrees of nudity, puddles of beer on the floor, smoke obscuring my eyes. Here and there I stepped on the splinters. The guys didn’t seem to notice the whole set-up – they dragged me to the counter to make me the same level of alcohol insensibility. By the way I poured the beer from the glass while nobody was watching and demonstrated the empty glass to my kidnaper. He was proud of my progress like if it was himself who conquered the beer.
At the counter the big guy handled me another glass. He was watching so I had to drink.
“What’s your name?” I hoped the conversation would put off the beer.
“I am the Thunder of Night!” he bassed.
Thunder in Pants, I commented in my mind, pouring the beer on the floor by stealth.
“And I am the Raging Wind!”
And I am The Grand Mother. Instead, I smiled as cheerfully as it was possible in my situation:
“I am... Juls!”
Sharing names in my company could be dangerous. The less they know about you the deeper you sleep. The drunk jerks decided I had to dilute the beer with a little of vodka. I clutched the empty glass brokenly and wept I didn’t need any vodka. I danced inertly, demonstrating I was okay already, already too drunk. My legs slid in the puddle of beer I’d just created, I swayed keeping balance. My smile stuck to my lips, phony and clenched.
When they handled me third anniversary glass of beer, somewhat of a control portion, I refused too zealously for a drunk one. The Thunder-jerk frowned. Under his suspicious look I drained the glass, hoping my organism would resist. For the first two minutes there was nothing wrong at all. I sighed with relief.
My body got hot. The feeling was quite strange, but pleasant. The crowd whirled in my eyes. I suddenly understood I’d drunk half a liter of beer. Too much for a little one like me.
I leaned on the counter: the pictures danced in my head. The scene with unknown rock-musicians, a kissing couple near a column, two falling out guys at the next table. I could hardly move my body, if I did I would inevitably fall. The puddle under my feet wasn’t a great place to lie in. Luckily, I was still in my mind, every single thought comprehensible and sane.
That’s why I was about to cry when the caring hand thrust a shot of vodka to me. I raised my tearful eyes to the giant and he impended over me, threatening.
“Go, drink, girlie!”
I slowly looked around – even if I cried, there would be no one to help me. Everyone was shouting and screaming and my weak SOS would drown in this ocean of sounds. Somewhere in this merry-go-round there drifted Kathe, but she was unlikely to be in time for my rescue. My hand with a shot shivered and two drops of vodka poured on my skin. It seemed to burn down every single cell of it. I’d tasted vodka once in my life and those two milliliters were enough.
I met glance to glance with the giant. He was waiting. I knocked back the shot. The fire burnt my throat and dusted my stomach with ashes. The guy laughed and took the shot from my hand. I sweated. At first I felt nothing but flames – the world was still recognizable. Then the first degree hit my head and in a second before losing my mind I greeted my new friends with the most carnivorous of the grins.
My heart beat in the rhythm that drums created on the stage. My legs went shaking and dancing such difficult pas no one could invent being sober. I heard the stupid laughter and didn’t understand it was mine. I drove into the crowd and continued my exercises near the stage, trampling somebody’s toes. I was surprisingly brisk for a girl who coped with a shot of vodka. When the song finished, I decided it wasn’t enough for a decent fest and returned to the counter. Thunder-in-Pants guy didn’t seem that threatening to me anymore. He was almost My Mister of Universe. He supplied me with another shot and it flowed down so easy like I had a decent experience in drinking.
I got a taste. I liked the feeling of infinite freedom inside me. I poked Thunder-Or-Who-He-Was and cried:
“I’m so fun that I can fly!”
He nodded absently. I got angry with him.
“Don’t you belive me? I REALLY CAN fly!”
I strained and tried to raise above the floor. Nothing happened. My legs abandoned me, two stupid limbs. I swung, keeping balance, awkwardly waving my hands. From the side, it seemed I was going to soar above, so that the guys laughed at me.
In two minutes my failure was forgotten. The shots followed one by one. The barman smiled friendly and put the bottle on the counter. I poured the remainders in my pony. My hand trembled and the liquid poured out on the floor. I laughed and placed the empty pony on the counter.
Two cheerful bottles winked at me. I blinked – nothing wrong. My eyes still worked properly. I didn’t see double – there were two empty bottles indeed. I focused my look on my benefactor. His face seemed strange to me - an avid sparkle, a curved grin made his face ominous.
“Are you okay, dear?” I smiled.
He lifted me and carried to the exit. I embraced his neck and wondered where we were going.
“Are we going to have fun elsewhere?”
My tongue was twisting funny so that the sounds came illegible.
“Yes, baby! We are going to have fun in my car!”
The idea was perfect, although the car had lack of room. We walked out of the club – near the porch there was a big black Cheroky. Thunder-guy helped me to the back seat and sat near me. I turned to him, smiling. My ears began to suffer from silence.
“Are you going to turn the music on? It’s too silent here!”
I didn’t like the grin, white in the darkness. He moved up closer to me and put his big hand on my waist.
“It’s gonna be very noisy here in a moment, baby!”
His hand touched my cheek. The hot feeling arose in me and made me move uneven. Wishing he could continue, I pressed myself to his chest. The hand moved downward to my neck. The caressing of big fingers became more insistent. I shivered – the touch turned almost violent. When he put the hand on my bosom I froze, something alarmful pierced through my drunk dim. He lay me on the seat and thrust his weight on me, his hand under my shirt. He grabbed my bosom, his lips appeared upon mine. When he squeezed them with a brutal kiss I protested.
“Be my nice girl, Baby!”
His hand moved lower. Horror exploded in my head. What was I doing? An unknown guy was about to violate me in his car. Violate? Nope, I was going to offer myself to him. I opened my eyes abruptly and grasped his hand. He looked at me, misunderstanding. Then he continued his movements.
I was about to faint, but if I did I wouldn’t have a chance for rescue. He was heavier than me, stronger and there was no place to run and hide in this car. I twitched, my fingernails scratched off four red lines on his cheek. He roared and moved aside. It didn’t give me much time to act, the hard blow met with my temple. I started counting stars around my head. He fell on me, breathing heavy and loud the alcohol fumes in my face. I wished I could barf, but there was only vodka in my stomach. I took a second endeavor to protest. It resulted in two more red scars for him and in two blows and a broken lip for myself.
A salty irony taste filled my mouth. I choked. Bloody visions flashed in my head, yellow spots inclosed in the background. I went off breathing, hardly gasping for air. My body relaxed, lacking the control from my brains. Thunder-in-Pants tore into me again. I wrenched my hand and groped about the door-handle. When his mouth approached mine, I unlocked the door and with all my strength bumped it in his forehead. The guy trembled and set down, calm and motionless. My hand, clinging to the handle, fell free and I felt how my muscles relaxed, almost torn.
It took me five minutes to recall how to exhale and inhale.
I fought with the body, crawling from under it. My blow wasn’t too powerful to faint him forever.
I rolled out of the car on the cold ground and caught my uneven breath. The short fight made all the dim out of my head, therefore I could think properly. The way to the club was now closed for me – the guy would come to his senses in some minutes and rummage through the whole club searching for me. Secondary, there is his accomplice waiting for the winner. My heart called for vengeance, but I was only to be satisfied with what I’d done to him.
I crawled to the bush where observed the porch of the club and the jeep with the maniac. My head was spinning around, all the body hurt. Now I sat pitying myself and hating my foolishness at the same time.
I took out my cell-phone and stared at the contact-list. There was nobody to ask for help. Kathe was the closest, still unavailable for me. Girls and boys took fun in ‘Midnight Tear’, another side of the city. I pressed the phone to my chest and sighed. Surely, I was completely out of luck today. Too many troubles marshaled on my way and I only had to meet them in turns. But the last one was worst of all. Giving my honor for a bottle of vodka didn’t seem a good bargain even for such a psycho like me.
Suddenly, my phone rang. I eyed the display. The troubles were surely alternated with surprises.
“What do you want?” I breathed in the phone. Nothing more loud could come out of my throat.
“Katherine was searching for you. Are you inside?” his velvet voice wasn’t that pleasant it was before. It was so confident that made me cry. I suddenly realized how weak I was and how much I needed someone to comfort me now.
“I am not... not... inside” I tried to talk clearly, but tears suffocated me.
“Where are you?” his every word was distinct like if he was reading in a phrase-book.
“I am in the bush” I said and it was the absolute truth.
He didn’t linger.
“That bush outside the club?”
“Si” I sighed and choked, unable to restrain the tears.
I cried in the phone, not realizing it was turned on and the guy was listening. I saw with my eyes open in terror the maniac climb out of his car and enter the club. I hid deep in the shadows, unbreathing and unmoving, hoping no heart beat would reveal my shelter.
When someone’s hands entwined about my waist, lifting from the ground I shrieked and hit the attacker. He let me out, I fell on the ground and crawled forward.
“Hannah!” he called me. “Do you really think I won’t outrun?”
I froze with the sound of the voice. It was not any more frightening than a warm breath of wind. Although it was rather cold and crystals of anger jingled in it. I compressed to Philip’s chest and refused to tear away, calling his name constantly, like a pray. He sat near me and took my chin. I tried to keep calm, but shivering burst out anyway.
“Philip!” I repeated over and over. This name now was my SOS call, my last hope.
He moved me aside and kept me at arm’s length while I was calming down. When my breath got tranquil he embraced me tight. I placed my head under his chin, hoping to get warm from the heat of his body. Still embracing, he helped me to stand up and walked me to the parking. I hesitated near his black Toyota, trying not to reveal the rotten pictures in my memory. Philip treated my doubt wrong and invited me to take the driver’s place, no humor notes in his tone.
“I can’t drive” I muttered, hugging myself.
“Huh, that sucks!” he answered and smiled to me encouraging.
I gained my strength to smile back. He opened the passenger’s door and comforted me on the seat. The front seat was feeling less dangerous than the back one. I shuddered in the darkness while he took his place and started the engine. The heat spread over the salon, but it didn’t warm me up.
“Still cold, Hannah?”
My teeth chattered so that it was obvious. Philip climbed out of the car and I rushed for him. His hug was tender and careful, I pushed myself in it and coiled under his arm, not letting him to have a step.
“Don’t go please!” I said.
“I’m not going anywhere, Hannah! There is no one to hurt you again. I’ll take care! Now go and sit in the car!”
I had to obey. He brought a plaid from the boot and wrapped me in it.
“Now, calm down! I tell you to calm down. Everything is over!”
He turned on the lights and I felt the pain easing.
We kept silence until I squeezed ‘thanks’. When the blessed warmth spread over my body and energized my frozen brains I could react properly on the situation. And from the first recognition it didn’t seem any normal to me.
“Where’s Kathe?”
“She took Dimah home in his car!”
“Why did she leave me alone?” I asked myself, not him.
  His eyebrow rose in a new expression – this sarcastic surprise was a good alternative to his usual grin – a little bit more human. I didn’t think right before my drunk tongue announced this thought.
“Human?” he asked. “In other time I don’t look human then, don’t I?”
I reddened. The heat surely influenced me this awful. The forgotten alcohol fumes arose in my head and began their weird dance.
“Don’t listen to me, I am drunk!”
Philip kept silence and drove away from the parking. I liked his car: it looked as confident as its owner. It was the same absinthe green that I tried to avoid to look on. It was hard. Driving, Philip used to steal glances at me in the mirror. Sometimes our looks crossed. It was a strange reflection. Deep green against the nutbrown. My own eyes were ordinary – they didn’t change the color according to my mood. I was born with these nut eyes, I raged and loved with the same brown tint, I would die with it.
When he removed his eyes I felt a loss in my soul.
“What’s happened to you, Hannah?” he asked abruptly.
“I... I drank...”
It was a piece of truth. I did. That’s what he could see clear on my face.
Philip turned to the side of the road and stopped the car. His hand touched my broken lip tenderly. I closed my eyes, enjoying this new feeling. It was something like my first kiss, but deeper. More balanced. My heart didn’t quicken but slowed down, as if trying to linger the time. His finger traced the bloody trail on my cheek to the bump on my temple. Then he took my chin and pulled to his face.
I stopped breathing at all. I stared at his lips, hypnotized – they trembled in expectation, closer and closer.
I surrendered myself. He pressed his lips on mine, slightly touching. I was afraid to move, to speak, to breath, to exist if he didn’t want me anymore at the moment. His lips were hot and soft, mine - like birds in the cage. He cuddled me, conquering my mouth. Nothing rude was in his kiss, just endless tenderness. His hands didn’t take a little part in this fest, just held me carefully like I was fragile.
I was. If he’d left me now, I would weep and mourn for encore. But he was as greedy as me. Philip seemed to be eating me up, swallowing me entire, but his lips didn’t linger on mine longer than a moment. He tasted every single spot, every single cell, savoring and reveling. I had only to offer my lips to him, drinking the cup of pleasure he poured in my mouth. We both might have felt the vague taste of my blood, and it was a spicy flavoring to our desert.
His kiss tasted absinthe – burning and maddening. God bless, there was a little ice in this goblet of fire, my small chance to survive the flames. I smelled his skin – the after-shave lotion meddled in the smell of his perfume. A delicate thread of oranges sewed through the whole mixture like if he drank orange juice in the rock-club. I felt an unbearable wish to taste his skin. Was it that absinthe charming? Was it burning? Was it covered with this mist of orange ether? I didn’t dare to touch him, to destroy the illusion.
The breakaway was so abrupt that I choked with indignation. He kissed the tip of my nose and turned to the wheel. While he drove out on the traffic area, I got myself whole again and prohibited to think about the kiss.
“You are edible!” Philip said. “But this after-taste of vodka! It’s rotten!”
I shrugged. This couldn’t offend me: if he didn’t like the taste he wouldn’t linger on my lips so long.
“Thrilling!” he answered to his own indefinite question and grinned.
There were thousands of thoughts in my head, spinning chaotically. The taste of his lips tickled my mouth so that I gained the last sweetness with my forefinger and pressed to the place where my heart was beating.
This prince was experienced enough in waking up Sleeping Beauties. I wasn’t sleeping, but dead, absolutely and – as I thought – irreversibly. But he made my heart beat, he made me ask for encore. I couldn’t resist the calling. It was even stronger than the itching of my wings.
“Has he raped you?”
“What?”
I shrunk in the seat. The charm of the kiss vanished immediately. I kept silence: Philip wasn’t the one I wanted to discuss the accident with. For such situations I had Kathe and Dimah... and Alex... and girls. Some of them will scold me a little, some will praise me for the accurate knock-down. Some – will swear not to let me search adventures anymore. I wasn’t going to do harm to myself, I was – drunk.
“How did you know?”
It was the most perfect way to answer – question for question.
“Respond me, Hannah! Did some guy violate you?”
“No!” I cried, uncertainty ruling over me again.
“Don’t lie to me, Hannah!”
This beasty smile was more scary than two hundred maniacs waiting for me at home. I began to exhale and inhale, holding my breath to gain confidence again. My psychotherapist taught me this trick when I was torn by the first parting in my life. It helped.
It always helped.
My driver was calm as ever but I noticed a trembling vein on his neck. I felt a queer wish to touch it. If I were more courageous...
“Respond!” he commanded.
“No!” I said firmly. “But he tried.”
“How did you escape?”
“How did you know?” I asked in his style. “I need to know or you can make me get out!”
He stopped the car, got out of it, opened the passenger’s door for me and helped me out. That was annoying but I was so angry with him that walking some miles would be a trifle. I walked forward, wrapping up in warm plaid. He didn’t move, just stayed leaning on the hood of his Toyota.
What a jerk! Everything in him enraged me so that I became a fire-breathing volcano with lots of boiling lava within me. I must have poured it out or it would burn me. The cold wind gave me a respite, the humid air cooled the fire in me. At the same time I was far from being frozen to death. I still couldn’t feel the coldness – the anger inside me was a perfect fire-place.
A car moved slowly by my side, then stopped. Philip repeated the whole procedure and shoved me back into the passenger’s sitting. Then he continued driving like there was no tiff between us.
“You look if someone gave you a perfect blow. And it was not a woman but a man! A drunk one!”
“Drunk? How did you get it?”
“No sober man would hurt a woman!”
It was a firm statement, unarguable. I thought that now he would isolate himself as usually but he continued:
“You look too tortured and when I found you, you were quite tearful upon your eyes! Are you an idiot? How did you get in trouble this fast?”
I gritted my teeth. Who was he to teach me life?
“It’s not your deal! I’ve managed with it so don’t bother, boy!”
I saw his vein beating and pulsing again. All the feelings and thoughts were gone in a second, leaving a place for one unbearable desire to touch it, to caress. This boy enticed me. The desires that he redeemed in me were so live and scary. They bothered me, wanted to break off the shell and come to the surface. I wasn’t strong enough to restrain them constantly. They were much more than my anger, my fear or my intentions to keep away from boys.
The vein was about to burst through the shady skin. I touched it with cold fingers and felt it caught. I caressed it up and down until it cooled. His neck strained under my palm, like if I was stroking him with a sharp blade. I could take my hand away but his face was so overcontrolled that I continued the agony. My fingers traced his veins and muscles up to his chin, then by the cheek-bone to the temples and twisted in his nighty hair.
He bit his lip and kept on driving the car.
I knew that if I didn’t stop we’d run into a block. He had to stop me. He was trying hard to manage with his body – I saw it echoing my caresses – with his mind and with the wheel. A minute more and he would have lost something and we both end tragically.
I sighed and held my hand away.
“You can go on! That was quite...” he swallowed up.
“Thrilling?” I prompted.
“Obsessive!”
I chocked. Obsessive! Was it about me? About my hand? I turned away and followed the pictures of nighttime Moscow. This guileful city seemed more welcome to me than this overweening Spanish guy. I was caught in his usual trap. No doubt, I wasn’t the most interesting pray in his collection – a little ordinary bird, charmed by his face and dark-natured manners.
“OK, that was quite a clear hint! Sorry!”
I did my best not to show him he hurt me too much. It was more than a year since the last time I kissed a boy and this break, like a long continence, didn’t benefit me much. Sucks. I was the first and the only to blame. My mind wasn’t firm enough to endure one more total heart break. The first time should have been enough not to run risks ever.
Love was made for strong people, not one-day butterflies like me. I stole a glance at the faint scars on my wrists. Irregular, uneven, inaccurate – my story scripted in these lines.
No. I wasn’t going to ride this vicious circle again.
“A hint? That wasn’t a hint!” he wondered.
“Where are we going? You don’t know where Kathe lives” I defined.
“No!” he said.
“Where than?”
“To mine!”
“Do you?” I took my turn and wondered.
He nodded. This laconic manner to talk little irritated me.
“Drive me home, please! I can explain you the road!”
“I want you to be my guest tonight! It’s closer to the university than yours. You can have a decent sleep before the classes tomorrow!”
I didn’t look like a naive girl that believed a fast-cooked lie about some coffee for tonight, about an interesting collection of stamps. These and other naked tricks made me laugh, actually. But this guy wasn’t offering me a pleasant final of this evening in his company. He ordered me to calm down and spent this night with him.
“I am not going to sleep with you!” I said, my voice husky with anger.
He stopped the car on the red signal and turned to me.
“Don’t get that shivery! I am not going to drag you forced in my bed! You will take it free-will!”
“Will I?”
“I’ll have the sofa if you don’t want me near!” he said.
Unexpectedly, I hesitated.
“And if I want you... near!”
“I will be!” he said.
I yielded in the end. In one thing he was right absolutely – his apartments were closer to the university than mine. The hour-hand was almost one point after midnight. If I were at home I should wake up half past seven. At Philip’s I had one more hour to sleep. And if he drives me... Now I saw his point clearly and hoped it wasn’t one more try to entice me in his den.

 
Chapter 5
Two to tango

He unlocked the door and let me in. I entered the flat and observed the area to find the ways of retreat. To the right of me there was a kitchen (I identified it by a big fridge), to the left - a hall with the widest mirror ever possible. I changed my shoes for the pumps Philip brought and walked to the mirror. It was mysterious and not that cause of the colour.
“What do you need the mirror for?”
“Mom’s” he explained.
“Why is it this... dark?”
“You mean black?”
“Why is it black?”
“Do count it as another rich man’s caprice!” he grinned.
He felt uneasy near the mirror, I noticed. He stepped aside, so that I was the only who reflected in it. The image blurred in the blackened surface. I touched it and the coldness iced my fingers. I turned to Philip.
“Count? Do you want me to believe or it is really a caprice?”
He grinned again.
“Does it matter?” he answered rhetorically.
Finishing this stupid talk, Philip lead me through the hall to the big room where I sat on the very edge of the sofa and looked around again. This room didn’t bear any traces of someone living. It was full of furniture and devices but uninhabited. Everything seemed too new and too full of its original lifeless odour. The sofa was unsitted and unlay. The TV unwatched, the big floor lamp in the corner unturned on. The room was beautiful but dead. No photoes, no pictures, no litter at all. I shivered and embraced myself.
“Are you still cold?” he asked.
“Nope, I am afraid!”
“Make yourself at home!” he said not to the point.
“How can I? I live at my home. Do you live here?” I attacked him.
What for did he bring me here? To this walls? To this cieling?
”I do”.
So angry with him, I didn’t catch what he was talking about. I stared at Philip.
“I do. Live here!”
I was ashamed.
“Sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you!”
“Hurt? Me?” he grinned beastily and I wondered where he did hide the corpses.
He disappeared for a minute, but this minute didn’t come easy for me – empty walls enclosed, suffocating. When he returned, handing me a big bath towel and a clean T-shirt I was about to shower him with kisses.
The T-shirt was his size – knee-low for me – and orange. I had such a wide smile that surprise crossed his face. Of course, this T-shirt wasn’t a proper pajamas for a night with almost unknown guy, but better than nothing at all. I didn’t like sleeping naked, even more so in a company of this dark-souled beasty boy.
Unspeaking he lead me to the shower and left me alone in a giant bathroom. The alternate shower helped me to recognize myself and clear out the situation.
I am having a shower at Philip’s. It’s thesis.
I know him for one day in this life, firstly.
He’s a real demon with this grin and this tempting looks, secondly.
I am alone here and not too sober, third.
Thus having at least three valuable reasons to leg it, I was still lingering under the watershed.
On the contrary, I was drunk. So I could act a little bit careless. Also Philip was a decent kisser, in the end. And he promised a longer sleep.
I walked out of the shower in his bright T-shirt, my legs naked, my hair wet. He watched me attentively and suddenly asked if I was going to stay.
“Didn’t you invite me to stay? I can go!”
I didn’t think where and how would I go so late when the subway was closed for the night break. In my state I could travel to the other end of the city, barefeet, in a T-shirt. Alone. No problem. Just fun.
He shook his head, banishing some secret thought from it.
“I am tired. Very tired” I confessed, my tongue twisting and coiling.
“I see” he said. I made an uncertain step forward and almost fell on his hands.
“Nuoo, u dd-, I ... I.. n-... Bed!” I commanded, leaning on him.
He grasped me and dragged to the other room. With my eyes closing, I saw a big bed in the corner. Philip put me on the bedsheet and pulled the blanket on my chest. My foot leaned out of it. I played my toes and smiled to Philip. He became my best friend in the world – the greatest boy of all, the most beautiful, the...
He stood watching me, his hands crossed on his chest.
“What are you waiting for?” I mumbled.
My tongue didn’t obey me, so he was to try hard to clear out what I meant.
“You!”
“Me?” I wondered.
The alcohol and sleepless nights knocked me down.
“Do you want me near?” he asked.
It took me two minutes to comprehend.
“Do I? Nope, I don’t!” I yawned wide.
He giggled. I focused my uncertain look on him, making out what he looked like when giggled. Giggling Philip... huh..
Gugh..
“Good night, Hannah!” he bent over me. I thought that if he kissed me goodnight it wouldn’t be annoying, moreover pleasant. I thought it and sank in slumber, when Philip turned off the lights and walked out of the room without any single hint on kissing anyone around him.
“You too, Night!” I muttered to no one.

The lurid moon-light was penetrating through the curtains, distorting vague silhouettes around me – the wardrobe, the table, the computer, the armchair. But most of all it changed a darkened figure in it – Philip’s bronze face covered with silvery veil of moon light was not ominous but deathly tired. I felt a strange bitter itching in my stomache. I saw children in such poses – weak and unprotected.
The smile – that was absolutely different. Not that impossible tender smile that makes a man - a lover. Not that impossible kind smile that makes a man – a friend. But a smile of a dying – the one who had his life completed properly.
He didn’t take the sofa. He didn’t sleep at all. His eyes as frozen as ever focused on me.
“Why don’t you sleep?”
“I don’t want” his voiced hissed through the silence. It touched my ears – warm unlike his eyes. I wanted him to stand up and come to me. I wanted to have him by my side, despite of all the stuff I was saying, I wanted him - to vanish the deathly doom in his eyes.
We sat opposite each other, silent, each one thinking his own thoughts.
The darkness condensed and wrapped us in shadows. I realized all the nightmares that traced me like a pray every night, those nightmares I even got used to, those who became too familiar, too dear – this inheritance of our dead relations with my ex-boyfriend – these Nomads in the night – they all were gone.
First time this year I slept absolutely dreamless.
The discovery made me shiver. What was so strange with this godlike guy that even my nightmares left me? The creature in the armchair appeared not human at all, moreover – a god of Gloom, a mysterious ruler of wayward souls.
I imagined Philip with a trident, in a crystal crown and a black gown. It was...rash. I began to laugh. In our common silence this laughter was almost a sacrilege. The calmness of his face cracked – his eyebrow rose in a slightest expression of surprise.
I shook my head, demonstrating there was no principal cause of my laughter. He grinned.
The fascination of a horror fairy-tale was gone.
“Go to sleep, Hannah!” he said.
I turned to my left side and obediently closed my eyes. The sleep didn’t keep me waiting. The nightmares didn’t come, however I waited for them. They didn’t dare. My sleep was tender and magic, it brought repose and recreation. For I saw nothing in the darkness. Nothing at all.

I sighed with relief when his modern car stopped near the porch. I slipped out, praising Philip with a short ‘thanku’ and sank in Alex’s friendly hug. The torment was almost over. Carefully I hid my face from Philip in Alex’s armpit, but heard him turn on the signalling and welcome the guy.
When his steps silenced I gave another deep breath and unstuck from Alex.
The morning was wrong in all the meanings a thing can be wrong, beginning with the very idea that wrong is ‘not right’. Firstly I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room, unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar guy eyeing me attentively. And this deed could hardly be called ‘waking up’ because no spark of consciousness crossed my poor brain. Only pain uneasily tossed in it, hurting me with every movement. The dryness tickled my tongue and my throat that I was unable to breath and to speak. Well, in my state I wasn’t the one to pronounce wise things. The only thing I could say was a number of swearwords, each one exactly characterizing my yesterday’s stupidness.
It took me a decent time to realize where I was, and what I forgot in this place. All this time the guy in the armchair went on keeping irritating silence. He didn’t say anything and didn’t even help me in the difficult process of self-identification. Through this torment I had to pass by myself, paying for my yesterday’s fun (of course, it was not the right word, but this morning there was no space for any rightness).
But when I, however, caught the rushing thought in my head and understood where I was, at who’s place, I almost fainted. It was the worst thing I could do in a drunk condidtion – wake up in a bed with my class-mate. With a guy I knew for a short time of half a day. It was... impossible, still – the fact.
The problem was that I couldn’t memorize what I had done yesterday’s evening. Odds and ends of evening events flashed in my mind, but the whole picture wasn’t appearing. Like there was too much that my poor mind couldn’t bear and tried to forget as soon as possible.
And the worst, the deadliest memory still refused to clear up the things for me – this bed, and this guy... and me...
“Philip?” I squeezed out.
“Si?”
I remembered, there was a good definition for this voice and this particular ‘si’ but it was yesterday. Now I could hardly remember if yesterday did at least exist – so vague and fairy-tailish it seemed.
I concentrated. The second question wasn’t that ‘easy’, the sounds clawed my throat, tearing it in shreds. My feeble intentions to pronounce anything failed.
Philip brought me a glass with water and a tablet of Alka-Zeltser. I swallowed the water in one big draught and breathed hard while the icy liquid fought with the hell in my throat. I handled Philip the glass and pointed at the tablet. He brought me another glassful.
The whole eternity seemed to pass when the tablet began to act: my pain eased a little bit giving me a chance to grasp more rapidly.
“Did we... did I... did you...?” I stared at him, hoping he would get my idea and help me with answering my undemanded question.
“No” he answered in Spanish.
“Really?”
It sounded like I was disappointed with the fact, but I wasn’t indeed. I had to ensure nothing had happened. Such little misunderstandings like pain in my head and dryness on my tongue were no problem at all.
“Si”.
Everything resumed its normal course. He answered briefly and grinned, I didn’t delete him from my black list. We didn’t need to connect with each other anymore. His usual ‘sis’, my gloomy face – they returned on its usual circle of life.
Having no problems with understanding him anymore, I dressed up in his bathroom. He let me dispose of the supplies in his fridge and we had a proper breakfast, sitting at the table like we were good friends for almost an eternity. There was no tension at all between us, just chewing silence and glances over the cups. He refused my offer to wash up with a short’ ‘no’, I didn’t object. In fact, I believed in a token that the guy who washes up in your house will be the one to marry you. Why couldn’t he stick to the same token?
Things went wrong when he pushed me on the passenger’s place of his Toyota. I remembered the car. Of course, somehow we must have dropped here. But it was assosiated for me with something else – fantastic and horrible at once. My memories wandered away, leaving me in guesses. I drowned in a soft seat, fastened and turned to Philip.
He started the car and when the engine began to grumble I remembered.
A feeble whistle flashed from my lips. Philip turned to me. I pluged my mouth with my palm and stared at him wildly. Then my stare moved slowly down, to his lips.
He observed me and said strictly:
“You wanted it!”
“ME?” I bit my lip not to cry.
Shoot! I was dancing on the edge of keeping myself sane and safe. And I barely succeeded.
“Si” he said. “It was you who wanted - and me!”
He drove the car from the yard. I remembered the kiss itself – his lips pressing to mine in a lightest touch. The fact of it imprinted in my vision. What I felt in the moment remained unclear. Did I like it? Was it good enough for me to lose my head? Or was it...
“Drunken oblivion!” I breathed out with relief. What an explanation!
He cast a gloomy glance in my side but kept silence. The explanation created was enough for me but I still couldn’t look at him, my face uneven with shame.
“How many times did we – uhmm?”
“Wanna repeat?” he grinned.
“Com’on, don’t boil, Philip!” I snarled, still uncertain.
“I don’t boil, Hannah. I want you to figure out if you want me or not!” he said.
I choked.
“Want you?! You?”
“What’s wrong with me? Hannah? Aren’t I good enough for you?” he hissed.
“Uhmm” I said.
“No?” he insisted.
“What do you want from me, Philip? I wanted you yesterday, I dont’ want you now! I was drunk! You are good, but I want to be safe!”
“Safe?” he shook his head. “Why don’t you now?”
He didn’t give me time to protest. His hot lips lay on mine. I screwed up my eyes and gritted my teeth, not to yield, not to go mad again. Philip insisted. I shivered, recalling how kisses used to be for me. His kisses also enchanted, captivated me. They also smelled paradise. Happiness also seemed possible.
I also soared, not able to control the situation. I lost the ground. I paid.
Sickness arose in my stomache. I didn’t want the same damn end with Philip. No, please.
He recoiled and stared at me, confused. I turned away. He touched my cheek tenderly, I trembled again. I couldn’t stand his caress.
“Wounded, striving... who did hurt you this much?” he asked.
“Don’t, please!” I pled.
He took away the hand and started the engine again. We didn’t talk after.
When the car stopped I was almost happy to see someone who could prevent me from making my further way in a company of Philip.
“Why are you trembling, Baby Ann? Did he bite you?” Alex asked.
It was ridiculous to feel unhappy near this cheerful guy, so I muttered:
“Nibbled!”
He laughed.
“Look, Ann, Kate’s not in a mood today! Yesterday, she crossed with Dimah and... now he’s gadding with a great bruise!”
That was a thing expected. Someday it must have happened. Surely, presence of Philip, this demon of Evil, made things precipitate faster. I hoped I could make Kathe whole back. Or Dimah - whoever was the most bruised and downbrought. Kathe would probably listen to my best-friend reassuring word.
“Well, what did he call her this time?”
“He didn’t call her any word!” Alex said worriedly. “He was too drunk to speak, as Kath says!”
“And today?”
“He is not okay with jaws so he’ll be able to speak not earlier than tomorrow!”
Things were much worse than I’d expected. When Kathe falls in rage, there’s no such power that is able to stop her. Only deuce knows what Dimah has done to this Valkyre yesterday but that was – surely – not the smartest deed in his life.
I found Kath on the second floor, surrounded by classmates. They all were discussing something so furiously that I hurried to the rescue. When I reached the crowd, the argument faded – classmates synchronously turned to me. I raised my hands, surrendering.
“Well, well, well!” Leuce’s smile didn’t yield to Philip’s in beastness.
Now I saw that the point of discussion was not Kathe at all, but me. What was there to discuss? Just... Oh, gracious! I glared at Philip. He occupied a chair in the corner of the hall and seemed not to participate in anything. Traitor! What did he say to my friends?
There wasn’t a trace of bruised Dimah, so I understood thing weren’t that awful. He at least could escape this time. It meant he was able to walk.
“Where have you spent the night?”
Everybody was silent. Leuce played her favourite role of a police detective. Her searching stare could fish out any information from a deaf and numb. For me there was no chance to silence the answer.
“At Philip’s!” I confessed, doomed. Why did she ask if everyone was already aware of the fact?
But my simple answer caused not the same reaction as I expected. The shock was so striking that a single Kathe’s choke seemed an exact and absolute full stop in the sentence. I waited. Philip in his corner opened his usual notebook and continued the writing.
May be, it was drawing. In any case the thing he was doing was far from harmless and socially accepted.
I was going to bark at him if he payed me with a piece of attention.
No one was talking so I occupied a free place near the class of pathology and opened the textbook. Hiding behind it like somewhat of a shield I pretended to be reading. In two minutes I realized I was staring absently in the credits page. I leant out to look if everybody were to their own deal. Six curious faces froze right in front of me.
There was silence. Still.
“Stop, Baby Ann!” Kathy said. “Did you really had a night with Philip?”
“NO! I spent a night at Philip’s! These are two different things! And... why do I have to confess to you? I have my right to sleep where I want!”
“Don’t anger, girl!” Daniel frowned near me. “Nobody’s interested in what you had done at Philip’s!” Leuce and Kathe hemmed. “You didn’t return home yesterday! What had we to think about you? We were worried! When Kathe called Leuce yesterday and said she had left you in the club for two drunk bulls with some concrete intentions, we all rushed there to rescue you! And what? We found nothing at all! No bulls, no Baby Ann! And how do you call it? Stupidness? Recklesnness?”
I exploded.
“It was Kathe who left me to nanny with her dear Dimah! Did she really think I was the one to cope with two drunk guys? Do you know who they were? ... Thunder-in-Pants of Night and Raging Wind? How was I to act when they dragged me to have a drink in the bar? Was I to object? And one of this guys tried to violate me! See? And now I have to plead and ask for an excuse cause I didn’t meet you in the club with bread and salt? Do you really mean this?”
I stared at Kath. She was shocked. Well, I thought wickedly, it was not a proper punishment for her yesterday’s betrayal. She prefered Dimah to her best-friend. It was not... that best-friendish. Everyone looked at Kathe uncompreheding.
“I didn’t... know... they were that... dangerous... and I hoped Philip would keep an eye on you!”
She went pale and silent tears appeared on her eyes.
“The guys? Did you see them catch Ann?” this time Daniel succeeded in pretending himself Judge Dred.
“I saw” Kathe cried. “But I didn’t know they would be that dangerous!”
“You must have known Anne’s not in friendship with alcohol. Why did you leave her with two guys, in the bar?”
I stopped him.
“That’s no good! We all know the problem is with Dimah!”
“We knew it would end bitterly!”
“Uhm-uhm! I’m still here, don’t burry me live!” I protested.
If I knew what it would end I wouldn’t ever stick to this insignifiant subject of my yesterday’s adventures. Of course, it was insignificant. Things like that happened to me almost every day – I mean things caused by my own recklessness – and I was already used to them. I spoilt things around me with careless words, with rash actions. I barely thought about the consequence just because I didn’t mind the things I did. I hardly ever controlled the situation. Most of the time, the situation controlled me. My deal was only to leg it in time or have a decent brainwash afterwards.
I thought, my friends did either got used to me troublemaking .The reaction they demonstrated now was ridiculous. Leuce wasn’t the one to fuss about the unexisting problem...
It was all because of this incredible Spanish guy. I didn’t know what was wrong with him. There wasn’t any obvious reason not to like him the way I did. No reason for blacklisting either. But there was an extra thing above all the reasoning – my inner feelings and ideas. They were clear – avoid him, keep far and you’ll be alright.
Probably, in a countryside a wise withered sorceress would call him a spoilt one. He had problems with aura, charkas, magnetic field and inner energies – surely, spoilt. Moreover, this black aura he shared with us so that to the end of the month we would fight with each other to death.
By a short exchange of opinions (mine not taken into account) the court-session passed sentence on Kath. She was given a week to sort out her relations with Dimah. During this time Kathe was an outcast for our group. Through this time she had to decide whether she cared about Dimah or she did not. And if she cared she had to make things out with him. No more amissions and silent tears on the couch.
 “And you will stay afar, Baby Ann! Got it? She will make out the ends by herself!” Dan cocluded.
Kathe sobbed and rushed down the stairs. Leuce and Dan turned away and continued the discussion of their yesterday’s feast in the club, like there was nothing missing. I listened and gritted my teeth. Everything inside me boiled and seethed, I was going to cast my anger on my classmates – how could they decide for Kathe and me? Who gave them this right?
Trying to calm myself, I went to the corner and sat on the free chair near Philip. He was drawing something in his sketch-book. I cast a half-curious, half-angry look on the page but didn’t nick to figure out the pictures as he shut the sketch-book and turned to me. I sat and grasped my poor head, still a little bit wild with remainders of hang-over. Philip touched my shoulder, cheering.
“You!” I hissed. “This is your fault! We’ve never had such problems untill you came! The fate is wrong about you and now you want us in the same abyss! Demon!”
I knew I sounded like a medieval inquisitor, claiming to burn the witch. I felt that he was the one to blame. This beasty grin, this godlike beauty, this eternal tranquility – the nature started to create a god of Hatred and Darkness but something interrupted her and now – here he was – undone but still powerful. I was about to smother him when he answered:
“You are not that wrong you hope to be!” he laughed.
The laughter made my head crack into pieces. I pressed it, trying to hold whole. He was mocking at my unableness to fight with him. I broke:
“I will keep an eye on you! And won’t let you break in pieces everything good around me!”
And he surprised me. A strange sparkle appeared in his eyes – like if he was dreaming about the day I would fight him down. This doom and resignation I saw before only once. A creature with such a look was almost dying in darnkness, wasting the last strength on keeping the smallest particle of light in its soul. This creature was almost lost – bleeding, craving for the quick and painless end. I saw such a look only once but remembered forever.
That creature in the mirror was me.
He took my hand and pressed his cold lips upon the bones of my fingers.
“Take a try!” he said. Then he stood up and went to the open class. I rushed after him, trying not to look too idiotic with popped eyes and childish blush.
I couldn’t concentrate. I wanted myself into pathology, but on and on the short talk with Philip rewound in my mind. I might have mistaken about the expression in his eyes. How could he be the same with me – ruined and spent? I was abandonned with my heart broken. I was so weak that cut my veins. I was so weak that couldn’t hold my brains whole and went mad. A real psycho..
This guy was sane like only sanity itself could be. He was stone-solid, heartbreaking, heartslaying, heartslashing. But he didn’t seem to have a heart of his own.
Kate appeared in a minute before the teacher. She pulled on her mock running and talked by the phone. Firstly, we thought she talked with Dimah. In the silence we tried to hear out what he answered. But when she asked to make something valuable for dinner, we lost interest and turned away.
Kathe’s lashes saved the remainders of moisture, but eyes sparkled like if she made the most important decision in her life and now was going to conduct new politics. She looked confident. If I was a little bit scared that she would be oddended, I could relax – she smiled peacefully to everyone of us in turns and then greeted the teacher with the brightest of her smiles. And I suddenly understood, my classmates were right. She needed time to grasp with her problems by herself without stupid advices and needless help from our side. The best of all I knew how easy it was to spoil, trying to make best from the better. Kathe needed to make up the things by herself. And now all her looks told she was on the right way.
I decided to keep my mouth shut not to let her go drift. It was her own fight with her demons.
It wasn’t a good metaphor. My glare slipped in his side. To the left of the demon there was Leuce, pressing buttons on her cellphone. I saw how my classmates recognized him. They stuck to him, leant to him, wanted him to comfort themselves. They liked him. And in their devotion was ominous. There was something wrong with him and only I seemed to feek it. I watched him and the creeps travelled over my body, sending unfamiliar itching to my stomach. This itching... like a heavy stirring stone, weight me down and tickled my nerves. It was new. It was frightening.
How was I to explain all my vague fears to my friends when they were conquered by his dark figure?
I tried to avoid them during the day. It was easy – they thought I was offended about Kathe. The jinx affected them like little babies. The girls hung about Philip, trying to speak him out. The boys got him in their company, discussing usual boyish problems.
I supervised him, trying to figure out what he was.
For my surprise, my supervision gave me nothing more than I got in first hours of our contact. He was calm. Silent. Brief. His answers tended to ‘yes’ and ‘nos’. And it was – for some reason – pleasing for me. Because he told me ‘si’.
I was not a victim he could lure to ruins. A fighter, a rival. That was my first non-fitment. I remembered how I looked in a mirror. That strange creature with bruises and pale skin, with thin hair and undistinguished eyes wasn’t an angel at all. If he was an unearthly demon, I could only be a rat goddess.
        Philip was beautiful with that demonic beauty that made the girls crowd near him, strive for his attention and see erotic dreams in moonless nights. He was the smartest student in our group (and may be even in the whole university) and this incontestable advantage was favoured by the biochemistry teacher and by pathology professor. There was no doubt this tendention would survive the meeting with a terror of pharmacology department. I hoped for a little time it was the result of his former education but Kathe didn’t leave me a chance to err – he was in all the meanings smarter than me.
In fact, he could become my dream-guy, if I was not me and he was not – he.
In the very end of the day I discovered there was no one left around me. The eye of the tempest was now near Philip although he didn’t look like he enjoyed it. Automatically, girls combed the hair, fixed up the make up and chirped a little bit louder than ever. Suddenly there appeared a heap of problems that only Philip could solve. The boys asked his advices and waited for proper answers, not satisfied with ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The whole histeria was rather amusing to watch. Fuf, it became really unbearable when the girls from other groups dashed and moved our girls aside to obtain a piece of his attention.
Clinics, I thought. The only easing was that Kathe, wholly devoured in her own relations, was insensitive to the lurid invisible chains that fettered everyone. She left us in the hall, while we were waiting for the lecture.
In some wild moment I felt that the common fascination was trying to suck me in – too often my eyes crossed with his derisive look. When the girls distracted him I observed him from the toe to the end of his hair. I knew what he looked like. I saw him lit by the sun, I saw him in the purest darkness of chamber. I thought that he was like a statue – rare people could look the same in absolute light and absolute gloom. He was not human.
No, he wasn’t.
I watched his bronze hands. They were exquisite – long fingers, firm wrists with carved veins and muscles. The bangle also looked like bronze – a thin rim around the left hand. I hadn’t noticed it before. There wasn’t any bangle this morning, otherwise it would imprint in my memory.
Philip raised his hand to put back a wild lock and I moved my look to his face – dark and tranquil. How long will he be able to maintain this enormous calmness? How long will it take him to show what he is in real? I wished he would soon so that everyone avoided him, so dangerous and mysterious.
If I just ever knew, what I wished for, I would never in this life come to wish again. For wishes – they tend to come true.
 
Chapter 6
All about us

The door flapped and I tumbled into the flat, breathing heavily. The damned lift rebelled and carried me to the fourth strorey only. The way up wasn’t any pleasant. On the seventh floor I imagined how cool it would be to fly home through the balcony.
A suspicious neighbor granny prevented me from such a rash action.
After a day of absence everything seemed dear and nice. Even the usual heap of boots in the hall. I stumbled over Juls’s shoes and fell facedown on the carpet. A puff of dust moved under my nose. I sneezed. Huh... My flat didn’t carry any illusion of being inhabited. It was inhabited. Moreover, here lived two rather careless creatures. I pushed Julia’s shoes on the shelf. Instead three different colourful flip-flops dumped out on my toes. Hush...
I dragged to the fridge. Wurst. Wurst. Wurst.
The chamber door swept open and my sister’s hand lay on the handle near mine. She raised her head and stared at me.
“Hello!” I said, unwrapping the wurst.
“Nice to meet you, Ann!” she said.
I threw my sack in the corner and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Juls fell on the chair near me and rubbed her eyes. I poured a glassful of milk and put on the table.
“This will help you!”
‘Thanks”.
While she was drinking I sat on the chair opposite her and began to chew the wurst. She draw me up the loaf. A sandwich after a sandwich disappeared in my mouth, pleasure spilled over my whole body. Peaceful smile stretched my strained lips. Juls watched me in silence and grew gloomy.
I knew what she wanted to ask about. The same gross thing – where I gadded while everyone was running his legs off searching for me. Usually Juls didn’t bother about my tricks (as she called them) – I could spent a week far from home without telling her a word but then – I always was back. In different conditions and moods, I always returned home to warm and to cheer up.
My practical rational mind had to share my body with a soul of a vagabond. They tore me asunder, each one asking for impossible. I could give them neither full heaven, nor the ground, for throughout my life I was drifting between. And I knew not – where.
“I’ve spent a night at Philip’s, my new classmate!” I preferêed to have questions anwered before they were asked, especially when they were not that pleasant to hear.
Juls poured more milk in her glass and observed me over it. I hated this moments: Juls knew me too well, from the very beginning to the very end and she only could look at me like that. Her eyes drilled holes in me, so that truth seeped through – to the surface. I was an open book for her. She judged my every deed but never pronounced sentences. Because she knew what I was like – different a little bit with normal people. So that the common laws and rules didn’t work with me.
Jully’s confidence could readily compare with Philip’s one. These two giants of keeping cool in any situation would have a decent duel.
“Was he so good?”
I chocked: everyone around me was thinking about sex. Even Juls, although she was quite aware I was not the one to sleep with a guy I just met.
“Don’t be so gross, Juls! He’s not the one for me! I spent a night at him because it was closer to the club and to the university!”
She kept still for five minutes, gulping down her milk and burning a hole in me. Her big shady eyes looked right into Nowhere through my body: the picture watched didn’t make sense and she frowned, creasing up. Then she woke up and put away her glass, as if just noticed it empty:
“You should have phoned me, Ann, so that I could say to your guys where you were!”
There was only true explanation to such a reckless behaviour and it was loathsome. At first, I didn’t want to tell Juls about my groundlessness, but now – when she ran out of milk – I had a chance for understanding.
Trying not to belittle my own ‘merits’ in things happened, I described everything in details. She didn’t show any unrest when I stuck to the process of getting drunk. She did neither react on me, almost violated. But when I mentioned Philip, driving me home in his car, she revived. I told her nothing of what indeed happened in the car. Fuf. To begin with, I didn’t distinguish if things I remembered really happened. They, as well, could be a brood of my alcoholed mind.
In fact, I told two-three words about Philip to minimize his part in the whole deal. It was enough that she could see with her naked eye I had a point on him. There wasn’t any wish to maintain the subject of me not liking Philip, but as it was always done – Juls noticed only this insignificant fact.
“Blacklisted, yeah?” she smiled, pleased with something.
I nodded.
“That’s good!”
She had an amazing ability to draw out impossible conclusions.
“What’s good with it? I don’t like this guy! He’s in my black list! Black! MY B-L-A-CK L-I-S-T! You see? With Andrew, with my cousin, with Bella and that awful guy that spoilt my best scientific work upon psychology! That’s not jokes! You must know!”
She laughed.
“I know, Anny, I know! That’s cool to watch you explode with some great ideas that can destroy the whole planet if you dare to make them true! You see, Anny, but you’re of those incredible people who come alive only when hate someone! Haven’t you ever noticed that Hatred makes you sparkle, burn and act! Act finally! Last time, when you plunged that guy’s head in the lavatory, I saw you really alive! Not this rotten poor lachrymose girlie but Ann! And if this mister Black List Persona makes you furious, I’ll place a monument in his honour. I almost despise you when you are that little pitiful nerd, waking up in the night from nightmares you create for yourself just to become more pitiful from day to day. You need a real shock to make your way out of this slough. And-“ she smiled again “you need some sex, too!”
I lay the wurst away and stood up. That’s too much.
“And ahh – there’s a letter for you, Baby Ann!” she shouted from the kitchen. “It’s on the fridge!”
Shaking with anger I unpacked the white envelope with my address on it and found another little envelope in it. The inscription in the corner said it was for Hannah. There was only Hannah in this flat, but this Hannah didn’t wait for any letter. It wasn’t an advertisment or an official letter – gentle and soft handwriting idicated rather intimated message. I examined the envelope to find some aswers but it didn’t contain a return address.
Who could send me a letter in the age of Internet? First of all, I needed to figure out who of my friends still remebered about the existence of post in our country? Not, of course, to mention about how the letters should be posted.
Julia comforted herself near me and scrutinized the sheet of paper in my hands. She was intrigued not less than me.
“Who could send you a letter?”
I shrugged and unfolded the sheet.

Dear Hannah!

And you, dear Julianna! I would be short-sighted if thought that your kind sister kept your nose out of this mystery. But this is a special deal for Hannah only and – in spite of all your great abilities, even those that you are not still aware of – you only have to step aside. But as long as I can see your future, and I can see it far forward – you’ll have enough time to have your own great business upon the whole mankind. But that is not a story of mine, although I would like to have my hand in it and keep an eye on you in times of discord.
I write this letter to Hannah because I feel that the sand in my glass is already reaching the last point. The death is strolling around my house and I only have to write you this diffuse letter – that is our treaty – and I try to make it more vast so that the reaper would have to wait. The deal is that I’ve spent such a gorgeous life and yesterday I suddenly realized I hadn’t created a successor. There’s too much work undone to leave the world without the one so I had to make my choice as fast as I could. Surely, there’s not too many people to chose from. Well, in the end I don’t need people for this role, so now I shift the heavy responsibility on you.
Congratulations!
I wish I didn’t harm you like this in the darkest times coming, but like your sister says a shock will bonify you a lot. In fact, I need a more confident and tough girl for such a job but we’re now short of creatures like you. No way for me, exactly.
You were done for a secure life, for happiness and a brood of children by your skirt. For all my life I’ve dreamt of such a perfect peaceful life. You see, the greatness of dream is that it’s just a dream. I hadn’t a slightest chance to escape my own destiny. Now I’m leaving you this burden.
I don’t know what a fate has given you the wings. Now it doesn’t matter. The wings are not a gift. They are your curse and I bet on you’ve already understood it once, haven’t you?
Remember, I didn’t have a choice. You were the only variant.
Aha, the reaper is impatient and impolite. This doesn’t make him a favour. Patience can be very useful in any profession, especially in yours.
Okay, okay I’m passing to the core. You have to arrive to the Council of Fairies tonight to take my place. They will send someone for you to get there so try not to fall asleep. I don’t like the concourses but sometimes they are nessesary. Try to get as much as you can, because you won’t have time for a proper education. There aren’t many manuals on this subject, you know.
Well, the rest you’ll know tonight. And, please, don’t be scared of those old jades – they are talkative but useless in a real life. So, take care of yourself and be a good girl.
And never - I said ‘never’ – tell about me to anyone you don’t love. I mean, friends... they are great... but love is a little bit more... extraterrestrial. You’ll come to know one day!

Sincerely Yours,
Joanne Glicern
The Fairy of Winds

P. S. Julianna! Please, keep an eye on your sister. She has a sense for evil guys.

I folded back the letter and handled it to Juls. She looked through the text one more time and sighed.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“True or false?”
“No, really, Ann! What do you think?”
“False!” I said.
I tried too hard to be normal to spoil the impression with beliefs in fairies and other bullshit. Although the passage about the job was believable, but strange, the signature didn’t leave any doubts. And those sentences about the Death, impatient and impolite. If they were considered to be a metaphor, the author – this Joanne – could win a Pulitzer prize. If she wrote them seriously, she had problems. Definitely, she needed a little bit of professional help, but not a successor.
All the elves, dwarves and other non-existing creatures became too popular because of Holliwood influence. People not only believed in them, but also tried to become like them, to act like them. Hundreds of elves gathered in forests to have a last battle with giants. Hundreds of vampires fested in Halloween. Dozens of other extraterrestrial creatures inhabited asylums, holding Tolkien as a Bible.
Huh... we tried to be special, excelling in madness. Like no other around me, I knew what a value and a virtue it was – just to be a normal human being. And no one but me understood how hard it was to achieve.
Joanne, poor woman. Too much of fantasy winds in her head.
But she was aware of my flying abilities. It put me on guard.
“I do belive everything that was said here!” Julia said firmly.
“Oh, because she promises you some great deeds for poor mankind?” I got angry with her.
“Poor mankind?”
“Well, when someone like you starts to rescue it, it’s only left to be pitied, mourned over and buried!” I snarled.
She jumped on her place and threw a slipper in me. I returned it and added my own. It struck her in an arm and she fell on my bed, weeping.
“Come on, Juls! Do you really trust this bullshit? It’s fairy tale for infantile grown ups without no cocrete aim in their lives! I can bet three hundreds upon one that the old woman is slowly moving insane. You see? It’s just a letter! There’s nothing wrong with me! There’s no wings at my back!”
“She didn’t mean wings. She did mean the flight!” she grumbled.
“Since what time have you become a specialist on crazy grannies? “ I smiled to Juls cheerfully. “Who is Baby Ann – me or you?”
She kept the snarling silence and I had only to take the letter and throw it in the bin. If it was going to become an apple of discord between us, I would get red of it and forget about the whole story forever.
I couldn’t. And it was not my fault. Juls insisted on sleeping this night with me so that she could control the guys that would take me to the Council. An argument with her would be entertaining but vain. I freed some space in my bed for her and fell asleep.
It was full moon, when I woke up in the night. Juls near me smiled to something. I took hr hand from my waist and climbed out of the bed, trying not to wake her up. She moved under the blanket and I slipped away a second before she grasped the pillow just where I lay. I stole to the kitchen – no grain of sleepiness in my eyes.
The moon hung solemn in the sky right opposite my window. Spectacular! It seemed almost live, moving, that wicked moon. No doubts, poets that sang of her so much, knew the subject very well. Glorious and mysterious it floated in the darkness. The lightest shadows flickering on its pale surface made it look more inhabited, more weird.
As Juls said I was a master in creating nightmares for myself. They originated from the vision of blood and yellow that imprinted in my mind and revealed every time I closed my eyes. I couldn’t help meeting them face to face, but as time passed I got used and didn’t usually wake up in the night, screaming. I just jumped up in my bed, twisted and coiled, trying to have myself whole again, trying to prevent my body from crumbling to ashes. Cold sweat flowed down my skin. I restrained and silenced the fear that tore me from within, hoping that it would fade soon without a proper maintenance.
The nightmares didn’t appear right after the episode. First time – when I healed my wounds in a hospital – I didn’t see anything but drakness behind the eyelids. The resurrection was like being newborn for me – I learnt to live again: to breathe, to sleep, to eat, to be content. If no friends by my side, I surely wouldn’t succeed. But they were always there to comfort me, to keep me warm. And, of course, there was Dimah – for when he was near I felt more pleased than ever. Thankful for the choice of living he made for me, I continued to derive strength in his powers. We were bound for long with an invisible thread until I became stronger to face the reality again.
And then, when I announced I had to come back home and live a new life, I lost the support and the nightmares, these strange creatures of subconsciousness, came up to disturb me. They weren’t too various – in fact, there always was the only plot and the only scene.
I saw the moon. It was far and vague, like a golographic fairy in a museum of modern arts. I sat on the very edge of the roof, high above the ground, and observed it move in the skies. It captivated me, enticed and there was no reason not to follow it on its parade. I felt my wings behind me. Not my hands, not that indefinite itching, but common wings with feathers. I could go for an angel if I was a little bit more unearthly. I flushed from the roof, higher than a bird ever could. Every time the moon was in my reach: I touched it with my shivering fingers.
It was cold and smooth. And there, close to it I coud see millions of moonlit paths, traced in the fluctuating air. Silver threads tangled in clews and ran downwards, to the sleeping city. They formed letters, the letters entwined in words. These words were someone’s beautiful story but I wasn’t able to talk this moony language. The words remained unclear and mysterious. Somewhere among these lifelines there must have been mine. I touched the threads and they melted under my warmth, disappearing. In a second there was already a new thread, slightly perceptible between my fingers. As I approached the moon, the threads twined me around like a web. Firstly untangible, they became more and more dense, freezing and solidifying. I tossed right and left, feeling how the coldness wraps me in. The threads held me tight. I screamed or hissed, but no one heard me in this silence.
I was going to be caught in the web forever. One day the nightmare wouldn’t let me go.
But there was a salutary name, carved on my heart with a splinter of glass vase. Unerasable, bleeding and still – powerful and ruling my life. I called it in the night, when the moonthreads suffocated me. This name was of such a strength that immediately the chaines fell down, the evil magic stepped away and I could breath free again. I couldn’t stop crying, I wept and shivered and my wounds ached: beside the salva the name was filled with Poison. I couldn’t help striving and praying to it. I continued to worship it and – agonized when my lips exhaled it in the air.
Andrew. Andrew.
I woke up shivering and hurt and grasped my wrists to check if they were intact. They were, not that about my heart. My eyes bled with tears. I wiped them with a corner of blanket and waited until the first morning stars.
Once there came a morning when I woke up without screaming. My heart, tired of pain and agony, let them away. I stopped clinging to old hopes and joys. And the nightmares became unimportant. Love, the thing I cherished in my broken heart, hoping that it could keep me the same way forever, was gone. The loss of it was so small and humdrum that it barely cost a sigh. I woke up a new creature.
But the dream still lingered somewhere within me – it appeared sometimes, dazzling through my nights. Those times it didn’t bear any danger with it – no cage, no chains, but endless moonriver that drifted me away. It was glorious and tender – the embrace of moon light on my shoulders.
This dream was hardly called a nightmare. It wasn’t. The moon was so sparkling friendly and the skies were so full of magic, that it was worth another hour sleeping. May be, I was to be captived forever by this charm, but it didn’t work because once – the fairy-tale turned a nightmare. Again. Dancing on a silver path, I met face to face with a shadow. It was alive and scary. It stood on my way and I recoiled. Music in my head turned off, the silence was terrifying. The shadow stretched its long hands for me, and when the black silhouette touched my hand, I suddenly felt the life flowing away from me. I tried to fight with it but my body froze and my mind grew dim.
Abruptly the world around me became empty. I lost my strength and fell on the ground, unable to fly again. My slumber broke in pieces and I appeared lone in a dark room, full of ominous shadows and dangerous silence. My heart raced, unable to keep up with my broken breathing, my head went spinning around and I fainted.
Juls usually found me in the morning and brought to my senses.
As it always happened, I got used to this nightamre too. I didn’t faint anymore, neither I did scream. When other people regained strength during the nights, I – on the contrary – lost them, felt exhausted to death in the morning. The day made me whole and cheerful again, just to have the same damn thing repeat the next night.
The cause was flying, of course. It was in my veins like blood – the life itself. When someone drank it out from me, I was left nothing, but an empty shell.
I’d better died.
If it was a warning, I had to find a power to fight with this shadow. Whatever it was, I was weaker, and I knew nothing about where it came from and what it killed for. Could I ask someone for an advice? Kathe popped up her eyes and ensured me everything would be alright. Juls hemmed and kept silence, thought I knew quite well what the hem meant. Lack of sexual activity didn’t profit me much, she thought.
May be, she was right.
I wasn’t a coward no matter what my friends thought. I didn’t panic ever and being scared wasn’t my favourite condition. But I got used to listening to my intuition and this time it cried me loud – a strange wheel of life was started and I had to let it move and grind me like the others. I didn’t want to be ground. I was going through the possibilities to stop it or turn another way, to prevent from making my life into a chaos.
I knew the person I had to fight with although he didn’t demonstrate any tension about me. He was dangerous and all the inner feelings of mine shouted about it. He radiated evil, invisible and therefore more insidious. My classmates didn’t notice terrific things happen. They had never acted so harsh, especially to anyone of us. And suddenly they outcast Kathe, scolded upon me and left us alone with our problems. In fact, it was a right, adult decision but it had nothing common with friendship. It was a little betrayal.
Such little betrayals appeared around me, here and there: they strained my usual calmness and made me search for a solution.
But most of all tonight I needed a good distraction.
The skies were open. I rushed in the dark cyan air from the roof, and fell in the dearest embraces of the wind. Soaring in the skies was almost every time an exploration. Every time I discovered new things in this changing, living upper world. It could seem empty for many people but only those who spent their lives in the air could understand me. There were birds, millions of them with their own lives, wishes, desires and ways drawn by invisible lines. There were clouds – these soft white lambs, playing, running or floating slowly. There were stars – little, cold like the lights on the swamp, calling for the wayward souls. There was the moon and the sun bound forever by the greatest marriage in this universe.
There were planes carrying people closer to happiness or to the woe, to future all in all. Seldom I even met lone baloons, drifting through the endless skies. Where? Who could say?
I greeted them all with a smile for they were my fellows during the nights. Next to them I could keep silence, could watch the human world beneath me and still – be the imprescriptible part of both – Nether and Higher worlds. They shared me both – my ‘wings’ and my legs.
The moon above wasn’t that one from my dreams. It was gorgeous but indefinite. It could call and entice but kept just watching without interfering my life. Will it stay that cold for ever? Or will it wake up one day and summon me? I felt as if I belonged to it, but how it could claim me – remained unclear. What for? What did I cost for it?
My life among the millions of lives was not the one to be desired.
“Flied?” Juls met me indoors, sprightly.
I nodded. After each flight I felt happily exhausted so I hurried to meet with my bed.
Unexpected guests in my chamber stopped talking and turned to me. The fatigue vanished in a moment – my intuition (where had it been before?) claimed another turning moment in my destiny and disappeared, leaving me to grasp with it by my own. By my back I felt Juls close the door and stand behind me, ready and steady like a guardian.
They were twelve, identical like a booze-up hallucination. All girls – beautiful with a ridiculous beauty of barby-dolls: blonde almost ash-grey hair, blue eyes, thin noses and chiselled faces. I imagined them all in a gift-case with heaps of dresses and tiny combs in a set. If I were a man I would go mad trying to chose.
They observed me too. Next to them I seemed too ordinary (if a batch of barbies can have an idea of ordinariness), totally dark with pale transparent skin and thin hair. I stared in the mirror and figured out I looked rather interesting. Like a sparrow among the swans.
After the scrutiny I thought over the reason that brought the barbies here. Memory connected them with the letter in my bin. If these girls were those “old jades”, the author of the letter was eight at best. These dames could hardly pass for eighteens.
“Well, who are you? How did you get here? What do you want? Can’t you please leave?”
These were the questions supposed to be asked in my situation. Juls’s eyes-saucers reflected in the mirror and I couldn’t help giggling.
“Fairies” she hissed in my ear.
Fugh..
“As long as Joanne had chosen you for a successor we must envolve you in the work!” a fairy said.
Since there wasn’t any identification detail in their looks I had to differ them by taken places. The fairy who spoke took the only chair in the room and sat on it, like on a throne. I did never think that my chair could look so gorgeus. Or is it of the bum that takes it?
“Cool!” I remembered I had to react, but not gawk this impolite on her. “What do you want still?”
“To involve you in the work!” she repeated.
I sighed. Do I really look that idiot?
“Uhum, splendid! To involve me –“ I thought it over. “But –“
She lit up, glad that she wasn’t the one to bring up the unpleasant subject.
“In fact, we already have a Wind Fairy so that two of you will be excess!”
Juls wept something angry. I squeezed her hand to make her shut up. I was going to think over the word ‘fairy’ after the barby-party. Otherwise my brains would explode with plenty of bullshit in them.
“Are you real fairies?” I asked just to maintain the talkee-talkee.
“We exist” she answered and others nodded.
“Prove me!”
She hesitated. When she opened her mouth to object I interrupted:
“Prove!”
Another blonde barby smiled and waved in the air. I stared, surprised, on the white flakes falling from the ceiling. They melted on the carpet leaving small wet spots. A snowflake landed on my ready palm. I examined it for a second, then it turned to a drop of crystal liquid. I smelled it – nothing. I licked it from my palm – nothing yet. Water, huh.
The fairy clicked fingers and the snowfall stopped.
“Impressive! Snow fairy?”
She smiled, proud.
“Can I do the same magic?”
“It’s not magic, but the natures powers! If you were a Wind fairy they would be yours also. But there’s no powers for you. They are already given!” the throne-fairy said.
“To me!” a girl in my arcmchair specified.
“Is there anything left for me?” I asked, feeling nothing at all but polite interest. I demanded because I knew that these stupid questions must have been asked.
“Nope, sorry!” the new-born Wind Fairy smile happy.
Juls hissed with hostility in my ear. I disregarded the murmur.
“Why did you come then? You – all?”
“Because you had already read the letter. Too many questions won’t do you good” the fairy said.
Huh. Their ideas of good weren’t corresponding with my own. They’d better kept away from me and I would consider the letter a spam-mail. Who cared?
“And, of course, the things are not quite clear with you!”
Of course? I raised my eyebrow. Twelve pairs of eyes watched me sit on the only vacant place on the carpet right opposite the chief fairy.
“You see, twelve different powers drift in the nature. We just suprevise the processes so that nothing interfere the normal course of things. I mean, the summer comes after the spring... because we control it. A little bit of snow in winter thanks to Snow fairy, Rainy nights when Rain fairy is in depression... You see, rivers flow only in the certain direction. The oceans stay calm and rarely rage and destroy. The earth is unmoving but time comes and it breaks with anger. We try our best to control these powers of nature so that people won’t suffer. We are Earth, River, Ocean, Rain, Snow, Ice, Fire, Mountain, Green, Blood, and Wing fairies. In fact the last three are Plant, Animal and Birds hostesses but that sounds a bit weird, don’t you think, uhm?
“We are born normal people. Then we discover the flying abilities and when the old fairy dies she choses a successor of those who can fly. She finds her and describes what the matter really is. That’s how it is usually done but...” she hesitated, as if everything wasn’t still plain to me.
“Joanne died before she found a successor!” a kind soul reminded.
“And she didn’t say anything to me” I finished the relay-race.
Chief barby nodded.
“When the fairy dies, her powers pass to the girl that she chose without any special ritual. By that time the girl is ready and immediately begins to work. We didn’t know that Joanne ran out of time and that she had to introduce the successor to us. We don’t act like this usually. When we discovered that Joanne was gone, we didn’t have enough time to find the one and just let the powers get choose by themselves. So that’s why we now have Eva!”
I looked at the girl. God bless her!
“Well, when she chose you she wasn’t aware we had one more candidature for this role.You see, Joanne was never the most normal fairy all in all. She used to ignore her duty that’s why we got problems after her death. Now we need a girl who can restrain the powers that Joanne loosened. Eva holds the ends and we can’t deprive her the powers!”
“No, no, no! Eva is quite a perfect fairy! I can see it... in her eyes! The most appropriate candidature!”
Juls shrieked and popped up.
“The problem is that you were considered to be a fairy. The wings are given only to fairies!”
“Can you fly?” I asked Eva.
“I can, but why do you ask?”
“That’s perfect!” I smiled. “You have your twelfth fairy! She can do her work. What else about me?”
The chief fairy frowned.
“Aren’t you disappointed?”
“Not a tithe! You can go with peace and I hope everything would be okay with you and your powers! And please what about a warmer winter? The last one was...” I cast an awkward glance at the Snowfairy “a little bit too snowy...”
She grinned.
“I’ll do my best!”
“You can visit me one day. Please, come for a cup of tea!” I remembered I was to offer tea in the very beginning of the conversation. The fairies noticed my confusion. The Snowfairy patted my shoulder and disappeared.
They left me one by one, each with sincere words of kindness. I smiled to them, thanking the heaven for passing this cup of suffering by me. The chief fairy and my ‘rival’ were the last.
“I can’t understand. Don’t you want to be a fairy? Don’t you want to have these great powers, this magic?” Eva asked.
I shook my head, protesting.
“I can’t understand!” she frowned.
I smiled in my turn. She seemed more disappointed with the fact that I didn’t care if she took my legal place, than I was with the fact she did take it. But I really didn’t mind. I would mind it more if I had to take it and potter away feigning a barby of myself.
She took a Chief Fairy by her hand and they vanished, leaving a light smell of parfume in the centre of the room. I opened the window to ventilate it and breathed in the pure air. There were three hours to have a decent sleep and I was going to use them at full-load.
 “What’s wrong?” I noticed Juls staring wild at me.
She was shaking in anger, ready to explode with a tyrade. I smiled to her, hopeful she would delay the carnage for tomorrow. Abruptly Juls swung and threw:
“Enormous idiot!”
“Thanks!” I muttered.
 
Chapter 7
Tension

The crowd near the building was unusual. The weather didn’t dispose to frying under the hot autumn sun. All sane people must have been hiding in the cool hall of the university. I made my way through the throng to the place where I saw Alex body leaning over my classmates. The crowd buzzed and fussed and I couldn’t clear up what the subject was.
“Hey, guys, what’s happened?” I inclined in the circle.
My clasmates were too agitated: everyone talked at the same time so that I snatched out single words. Biochemistry, lectures and Valerie Alexandrovich.
“Stop! Can anyone of you say exactly what’s going on?” I caught Alex.
“Too many girls asked about more lectures, the dean put some new points in the cur! But he didn’t conform it with other departments! Now we have to decide where we’d prefer to die: on chem or on sophy?” He grinned optimistically, as if dying from any of them would be a cute experience.
I felt sick. Philosophy could hardly excite a dead one. This monotonous muttering made my brains curl in a scroll. But the hours in “Valery Alexandrovish fanclub” were much worse, my own penal servitude.
Opinions divided. Four of us preferred to attend biochemistry classes, two took muttering and absent Dimah refrained the voting.
“Okay, if that’s the deal, why don’t they let us inside?” I said.
“They are having a conference upon how they will treat those who prefer their favourite philosophy to chem! Ah, well, of course, we don’t need any chemistry at all! But we’ll certainly die without Marks, Kant and other jerks! Just pretend, a patient comes to a pharmacy and asks Aspirin and you: Oh dear, don’t you know that in your case some philosophical categories show up in a new view, just look on it... As Kant said....” And what will you do if he’s a follower of Ancient India schools?”
We loled. The exam on philosophy was said to be the most difficult. May be, because no one of us had any idea of what we had been studying during the whole year.
“I’d better go rotten at the philosophy than listen to the howling of this biochem maniac!” I turned to Alex, another follower of philosophy.
“You’ll have a chance to – in some minutes!” he encouraged me. “Wake me up, please, when the class comes to an end, will you?”
I looked around: no Philip yet. Easing! I could spent some minutes with my group. Not the charmed zombies. They were quite pleased to miss the muttering, especailly Tany, number one fan of Valerie. No way. Poor guys would pass through another portion of laudation. I could barely say what was worse – Kamu’s theories or Tany’s bosh.
Students parted from the main crowd – these were the nerds on Kamu. Others moved slowly to the station, to get to chemistry lecture in time. There were many boys among them – philosophy wasn’t in favour at all. With a sigh I followed Mary and Tany, Kathe and Leuce disappear in the crowd and after a slight hesitation Dan joined them, sad that he had to leave his bestfriend Alex for laceration.
I waved to him, my look saying I’d take care.
So when the doors opened, our small company of fourteen instead of eighty hurried up in class. We didn’t even cast a glance in the time-table to make out the rooms – all of us could easily accommodate in one. I took the chair right in front of teacher’s desk, wondering who would have to mutter in this poor audience.
Dan landed on the next chair and took out his cell-phone. Fine, the next two hours he will be out of reality. Good for him! As for me, I was going to feign some thinking activity so that no one would disturb me in the next class. I opened the text-book to remember what we studied in the past semeseter.
Words. More words. Extra words. Where’s the meaning?
I looked around – surely, all the idiots of the faculty gathered here to participate in the dullest performance. They all must be big haters of biochemistry or just flagellants. I wished they were first because staying in a company of flagellants can... make you act strange. So that you will get used to some kind of a self-torture.
My surprise was barefaced when Philip entered the class. Dan stood up to meet him (that funny man ritual with handshaking) and vacated the place. Philip sat on his chair and turned to me. I was so confused that even smiled to him. How could Dan leave me with this demon alone?
The only explanation was that the place he rendered to the Spanish freak was right opposite the teacher’s table. A swot’s place!
“Hello!” Philip said.
Ungrinning, unsmiling, calm and solemn – that was a new mask. I was already fed up with unridlling his nature.
“Hello!”
It was considered to be enough for today – I decided to reduce our communicating at most. But the curiousty turned me back:
“Why are you here?”
“Where else must I be?”
This Hebrew manner to answer questions used to make me angry. But the way He asked a question for question sounded opportune enough to reckon with.
“Most of us preferred more biochem!”
“Far-seeing!” he shook his head. “Isn’t biochemistry the most important subject for pharmacists?”
“No!” I said. “Pharmacology is!”
He grinned.
“I am talking about you! Why don’t you attend chem?”
“I prefer philosophy! I’ve already passed through chem two years ago!”
I choked – loving philosophy was a nerd thing. There were no formulas, tables, reactions and deceases. It was a subject completely useless for practice. All the connections, that philosophers made in 100 percent different things, deserved –huh – a good treatment, at least.
“Do you have a text-book?” I asked.
He shook his head. Did he know philosophy that well to need no text-book? Anyway, I moved the book to him but he ignored me – the door opened and the teacher entered the class.
Fuf, a lonely thought squeezed through my mind. Fuf...
It must have happened some day but I hoped that this day wouldn’t come too soon. I hoped it would come never. Still, I thought the encounter would be more fatal. I pretended the old visions would pass by my head, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. No sudden recognition, no recall, no single memory appeared. The things went the same course and it disappointed me even more than a lean figure of my ex-boyfriend indoors.
He laid his stuff on the teacher’s table and observed the class. His look met with mine.
Thus we stared at each other for a long, long time. He peered into me as if tried to read out something particular. I felt my scars itch and burn. This reminder always worked, damn it.
I was not the one to fall in love with a teacher. This happened here and there, now and then, especially when the teachers were young, cheerful post-graduates. He was attractive, nice, with a kind sense of humour and pretty hollows on his cheeks. My friends liked him almost the way I did. Leuce licked her enticing lips, Tany cast timid glances, Mariah went through ‘How to make anyone to fall in love with you’, Kathe was torn between the teacher and Dimah. I was, in fact, the only who was totally confused with the feelings that flooded me over – I couldn’t react but watched him, admiring with my eyes popped up and my mind somewhere else. I didn’t even realize there was something to be done to make him in my arms. I was silent as a lamb and naive as a baby.
I didn’t act and he decided this time was his chance to get the initiative.
The end was known. We parted when the course was complete and if the destiny was merciful to me we would never meet again.
Well, it wasn’t.
Suddenly I felt something touch my wrist. Philip’s hand waved around it, his finger pressed my vein and caressed up and down. I twitched. He held me too tight to make me escape.
My ex-boyfriend moved his look away and, industriously watching the window in front of him, announced:
“Good morning! Since a few of you grasped the importance of philosophy in your life, the teachers decided that my candidature as your teacher would be quite enough! I hope, some of you remember me!”
The teachers did revenge us. Us! I muttered some swearwords and pulled my hand from Philip’s. He didn’t let me go.
“Who is he?” he whispered.
“Our new teacher! Can’t you see? This maniac is going to teach us!” I was almost boiling.
“Shhhh! Easy, Hannah! Do you know him?”
“Si!” the acid in my voice was sweeter than the sugar syrup but more poisonous than curare.
“Calm down! The hatred in you is gonna explode!”
If all this guys died, torn in explosion, the day would be marked red in my calendar.
Andrew, okay, Andrew Vladimirovich began to quiz us. He wanted to clear up what knowledge survived the summer. The questions were short and easy - the answers were sleepy, long and dim. After a short session poor Andrew discovered that either we had wild summer vacations so that nothing could survive, or we gained no knowledge during the past semester. The second guess-work was true. I felt myself a little bit revenged: my classmates were ready to destroy his teacher’s career. These guys with stupid faces, paying more attention to each other than to Andrew, were diagnosed “learning disability’ long time ago.
Names, dates, terms flashed in my poor brains. I wasn’t any better than anyone around me and I hoped no question would fall for me. Andrew tried hard to pay me no attention – but his seaching look stumbled across my face every time he chose the next victim. I coiled on the chair, hiding behind broad Philip’s shoulders.
“Hannah, will you tell us about the theory of Super-Human?”
I sighed. Well, he got it.
“It was created by Nizsche!” I murmured, examining the door behind him.
“That’s good!” he smiled. “What else?”
That was another point – my memories were run out on the name.
“Huh... the theory was based on the idea of a Super-Human creature!” I squeezed.
Andrew’s face remained expecting. I sighed again. That was everything I could take out and lay for him.
“This Super Human creature, as Hannah said, was considered to be free from all the weak sides of human nature. He was strong and selfish, some kind of anti-Christian. Nizsche thought that Christianity had spoilt the humans and made them weak and humble – therefore unable to survive. This superhuman must have originated from the main grey mass of people and brought a new super-culture that would change the realty. Nizsche was for Darvin’s evolution theory – a man must have been made through battles and troubles to be tempered and forged out. That only a worth one who survived it could become a Superhuman”, Philip’s calm voice gave out the information and faded – striking loud in sudden silence.
The guys lay away their things and stared at Andrew with interest.
  I didn’t even surprise. Philip could be anything he wanted when he wanted, even a philosophy nerd. But Andrew wasn’t aware of this nice habit and was totally confused to hear a plain, brief answer at bottom. He choked and smiled to Philip.
I didn’t like the smile. It meant that the question was for me and Philip, who interfered Andrew’s plans, was to be punished. No one gave him the word, in the end.
“Well, that’s good of you! What’s your name?”
“Philip!”
“Uhum... group?” Andrew made notes in his book.
“First!”
Andrew stopped writing and froze with a pen ready. His face turned gloomy and strained.
Then he asked Philip another question. The second. The third. I didn’t keep up with the names and terms they pronounced. In a minute I realized they were already far from the main course. I could only guess what they were talking about. Philip answered, brief and exact. Andrew didn’t like it, a weird thing, bombing him with new questions.
They became pressing, special notes appeared in Andrew’s intonations. The speed increased. The boy by my side kept calm and distant, now, when I cared about him most of all. Didn’t he see he was going to have problems after the classes? Andrew turned red and breathed heavy. I squeezed Philip’s free hand to support him, but he pushed me away. He seemed to enjoy, idiot guy.
The audinece became more animated – I heard Alex accept the bet in his corner. Of course, the sympathy was for Philip. Having no support from the audience Andrew got more angry – his honour was invisibly hurt and he, like a real man, was to fight with the offender.
Philip’s hand on my hand didn’t even sweat. His finger lingered on my vein, like if he was trying to slow down my heart beating. I felt the air fill with threat and it knocked me down. I wanted to shout, to burst out with scold, to blow Philip for he didn’t see what he was doing. I twitched on my place, pushing Philip’s hand from mine. Instead, he just waved it around my waist in an owner’s manner and continued his caress with another hand. The feeling of his warm fingers through the blouse lead me astray.
In some moment I felt that he payed me more attention than his ‘chat’ with the teacher. Every new trace on my skin was different, every touch was novel and amazing. I felt remote sexuality in the way he held me and this finally struck me.
I broke away and rose on my place. Andrew shut up and turned to me.
“Can I go out for a minute?”
Trying to look a gentleman he opened the door. I darted out of the class and exhaled loud. My only wish was not to go back to that ring. I walked to the girl’s room as slow as I could. I lingered in front of the mirror, washing, drying my hands, watching my pale face, washing again. The cold water helped me to ease the anger.
When I returned to the class the battle already had come to the end. Andrew explained new theories to the audinece. Students scripted in the copy-books, and I could bet it was far from philosophy. Philip watched his opponent with ineterest.
“Well, everyone’s alive. Who won?” after a walk my mood was bright.
Philip grinned.
“You!” and seeing me misunderstand he added “The idea to quite the battlefield was brilliant. The sides disappointed by your absence couldn’t go on like before”.
Teasing, like always.
“I didn’t want to see you torn in pieces!”
“Me? Or him?”
I felt an instinctive desire to bruise him. Despite it, my responsive smile was the widest in the world.
“I am not going to be left without a philosopher this semester!”
He laughed aloud and Andrew stole an angry look in our side.
The rest of the class was nothing new, except the odd thing that my ex was muttering, not a respectful old man. The muttering itself didn’t contain any grain of useful information, so I had to entertain myself, mesmerizing the cieling, the door and the walls around me. Soon the sleepiness closed my eyes and I lay my head on Philip’s shoulder, curtained my eyes with a fringe. Philip scratched his chin by my hair and held me in his hug so that I was comforted like a baby in a cradle.
When Andrew announced the end of the class and Philip clicked my nose to wake up, I wasn’t the happiest one. I didn’t want to lose the warmth of his body, to have him away. I also wanted to be owned, to be warmed...
I went on the same damn circle.
I came to my senses immediately, grabbed my sack and rushed to the hall, wishing to be further from both Philip and Andrew. But wishes rarely came true. Philip caught me in the end of the hall and pressed to the wall. I waited calmly – if I began to protest he would simply hold me tighter.
“What else?” I tried to sound formal, not to show him my body’s reaction on his touch.
His face ceased in a millimeter of mine.
“Why is he so tensed about you? What did you have with the teacher?”
“What do you have about it?”
“Respond!”
Why don’t I answer? Our relationship was in past, happily lived through and forgotten… in a meaning. On the other side – consequence still remained on my wrists under the blouse.
“He is my ex-boyfriend!”
Philip shrunk back. His face stretched. His body strained. The glare turned evil and rude. This striking turn was scary.
“Really?” he frowned. Now there was nothing tender and careful in the way he pressed me to the wall, he seemed to squash my wrists.
“I loved him!” I shrugged.
“Love?” he asked. “Do you know what love is, Baby Ann?”
“Do you care?” I pushed forward.
Accidentally, our lips met and both, unable to resist, we forgot about everything. I didn’t control myself anymore. That happened each time this guy occured by my side. If I wanted to keep whole, I had to avoid him, to make myself run away. But I didn’t want – the condition of being molten to ice was rather comfortable to linger in his arms. The sense of his body, his strained muscles, his desire between us was so ground animal that even my mind couldn’t restrain it. I would mourn for his favours if his lips gave me a moment chance. They didn’t and thus I saved the remainders of my pride.
When he tore away, these remainders were my only remedy.
“Idiot! Total idiot!” he squeezed through gritted teeth and rushed down the stairs.


I found my classmates in the department of pharmacology. They occupied the stairs. Alex and Dan, happily reunited, coiled near the wall back to back with their cell-phones out. No slightest idea of brain-using in the posture and movements. The fingers flashed over the keys and strange sounds announced victories or failures.
I turned to the girls. There was no doubt in subject of discussion. I could read the name and the epithets on their foreheads, tinted with heaven pleasure.
“Well, what was the lecture?”
“Cool!” all the girls were unite, even those who didn’t favour Valerie at first time.
 “Valerie was such a pretty guy today and he said that all girls looked bright! In the moment he was looking at me!” Tany said.
“Stop-stop! He was looking at me!” Mary protested.
I watched at Tany, waiting for her answer. She smiled, mysterious like a Leonardo’s model, but silenced her thoughts.
“Where’s Kathy?”
Girls weren’t any rancorous. They were likely to act normal when there was no Spaniard around them. Mariah informed us Kathe went to the hairdresser’s instead of the biochem to have her normal hair back. Honestly, I’d already forgot she had something wrong with her colour. In two short days we all got used to her rainbow curls.
“I talked to her yesterday evening. She said they had a big talk with Dimah! The biggest one in history of our university!”
“How many people have died?” Leuce snarled.
Mary hesitated whether to give it out.
“No one!”
We applauded.
“What did they come to?” Daniel asked.
“What can they come to? There are only two ways – they are together, they are not! Someone must have a hand on Dimah’s affairs otherwise he’ll end with a long list of maintenance requests. He’s such a nerd when there’s a doubt in his man reputation! Who convinced him the more girls you have, the tougher you are? Who’s the idiot? That’s – uhmm- jerky?”
“Jerky!”
“Kathe will be the best chance for him to be a real man!” Tany confirmed.
“Real man?” Daniel wanted to be a real man, too.
“You know, this talks about your manliness only when a perfect woman is by your side!” Leuce explained.
We thought it over.
“Let’s leave these psychologies to Baby Anne! Or I’ll have my head broken!” Dan wept.
Actually, no one of us could pretend Katherine a perfect woman. We knew her quite well with all her desires, troubles, imperfections and virtues. She was like an open book for us – interesting, but well-known story. She could hardly be called a woman – a girl in the zenith of her yourth.
For me she was more of a baby – with swollen face, sniffing and spreading snivels over the face. I saw her devouring pizza in her favourite breeches worn through, when she was soiled with gravy. I knew her naghtmares in such details that could watch them on my own. I knew what happened to her first lover, why she hated to eat sour-cream and what name she would like for her thirty third child.
I knew, at least, how many children she was going to have. And Dimah would barely manage with such a task.
All the thoughts I kept safe and silent. Everybody should have his chance.
The conversation stuck to another subject – what a dear guy Valerie was. In this theme I was a poor interlocutor so I didn’t participate in discussing different parts of his body.
I laid my head on Mary’s shoulder and closed my eyes. The presence of my friends – my real friends - was easing. Even more easing than the wind, blowing in my face miles above the ground. They were my comfort and my support, my cheer in a day of blues, a limit in a day of madness. They kept me whole and warm. I believed I was safe near them.
This year turned a real disaster for my peace – Philip, Andrew, Kathe and Dimah: people seemed to be testing my strength and patience. I wasn’t a fighter upon my life. Making my existence through the jungle of troubles and events wasn’t my great dream.
In some way, I was too small for deeds and happenings.
When Mariah moved I opened my eyes. And met face to face with one of my troubles for this day. The absinth with cantles of ice poured on my skin. I shivered – there was too much of ice in it now, the bits were sharp and threatened to cut me. I turned away, still feeling his hurtful glare.
Why should I care in the end about his glares?
Leuce and Tany moved to Philip. Mary stayed, offering her shoulder to me. I put my cheek on it and stared at Philip again. His manner to talk with my friends wondered me a lot – brief and accurate he was, like a part of him was a computer responsible for everyday talk, and the other part – still undiscovered – was working about more important things. His system was exact and monotonous, a hardware with paragon interface.
When Leuce asked him about a girlfriend the computer didn’t glitch. My friends got another confirmation with their “anti-girl” theory.
Well, he wasn’t the one about girls. But kissed he great!
Of course, I won’t tell them this insignificant fact! May be once one of them will try it!
The idea of anyone else’s lips upon his lips suddenly tortured me. I didn’t like him, but the jealousy of a pioneer made me angry. He became my territory, although I wasn’t eager to explore it or use it.
Well, I would never get used to him. His presence like absence tensed me – was it about his demonic nature? Was it about he… enticed me? Word for word, anyway he’s in my black list, I fixed! Can’t forget that I don’t blacklist people for no particular reason. There was a reason for Philip! I just haven’t found it yet!
In the classroom Leuce shared a table with me. While our new teacher described us the greatness of pharmacology I draw a goblet in my note-book and ‘poured’ poison in it. This picture would never betray me: no one else would compare his eyes with absinth, hundred percent.
“Baby Ann!” Leuce whispered. “Dis Andrew really held the class?”
I sighed.
“You are a rumour factory, Leu! How did you know?” I granted Philip with an evil look. “Well’ I see, who else?”
“A rumour factory? No! This university is a rumour factory! I’m only a chief-engineer!” she laughed and then became serious:
“Was is hurtful?”
That was my turn to laugh.
“Of course, not! It was funny, ‘cause dearest Andrew tried to have a quiz. The only student who knew the subject was Philip! Andrew didn’t like his manner to answer the questions and undertook a competition! For half an hour we listened to their chat. Gorgeous! Especially, when Andrew’s face got red and fingers began to tremble! Our Spanish macho stayed calm as ever, you know! Andrew was about to have a little fight when I decided to stop the battle!”
“Old fool! Why have I missed the party? Bet on, you’ve spoilt the entertainment!”
“I did!” I said.
“Pacifist!” she sighed, like it was my incurable decease somewhere between cancer and schizophrenia. “What have you done? Locked his lips with ardent kiss?”
“Lips? Whose?” I wondered. The direction of her thoughts was queer.
“That varies on who you like best!”
“Ahh, well, I like Alex best but he didn’t copmete! In fact, I just asked to leave the class!”
“Ahh, like “I refuse to stay here until you shake hands in peace, my friends”. Right?”
“Well, I said “Can I go out for a minute?”
Her face was enough to be proud of myself. Of all the nerd things I chose the most nerdy one. It meant nobody was slayed, smothered or stabbed. I won it!
 “How can you make everything so trite? Sometimes, I think you are a nerd of nerds!”
“I am!” the pride in my voice was sincere.
“You need therapy, Baby Ann! So we’ll begin tonight! I’ll pick you up at eight! We are going to have a party! Lisa and Jacob are engaging! We are all invited!”
“Cool!” I was so glad for the lads that didn’t even fear the idea of attending a party this evening.
The news was perfect. Lisa and Jacob had been dating for what seemed a whole life. We got used to this inseperable body of two different minds so that even sometimes mixed up their names. They never parted, always together. They failed together and succeeded together. They made the same mistakes although studied in different groups. Their bond was on the level of universal – invisible but so solid that no tempest could break it. We didn’t envy them. Lisa was born for Jake. Jake was born for Lisa.
The greatest thing ever possible, the most grandiose miracle in this eternity was that they met each other and held tight.
Throughout the millions of universes there wasn’t the one like Jacob for me, neither for Leuce. Such a love was given once in an eternity to those who really deserved it. I looked on Lisa’s face and knew she did. There was light in her that she gave to everyone who needed. She was gracious and merciful. Jacob was strong and solid.
Made for each other, they were going to bind their lives. Tonight and forever.

The whole evening I was getting dressed. Easily, I could wear my jeans and a T-shirt, as I always did and therefore the eveing would lose its sacred meaning for me. I wanted something special tonight. Something, I would barely wear in any other evening. Something – uhmm, girlish. That was the word. Nothing I found in my wardrobe fitted my moods. Juls watched me with a bright interest, now and then offering her own dresses and skirts. I went through her pile of cloths and got bored – there was nothing suitable.
It was almost half past seven when Mike came. Juls suggested that Mike should have expressed his man’s opinion about my looks. He turned down two skirts and a long black dress, heartily voted for my delicate stockings and decided I had to go naked.
I examined the spots of all rainbow colours on the brown carpet. A lone tear escaped my lashes and made its humid way on my cheek. Jacob carefully avoided to look on me, restraining a smile. He did enjoy the process, unlike me and Juls. She fell in the armchair, exhausted. I pulled off my last endeavour – blue silk dress and turned to Julia. The dress was rejected without argument. The colour didn’t fit my face. In fact, it did fit – too much.
I walked from the puddle of clear blue and stared in the mirror. The girl with cyan bruises of fatigue under her eyes, pallid skin without any hint on a flush and lips curved in a faint semblance of a smile. I reminded a corpse woken up for revenge, a zombie, well, a ghost at least. There was a role for me in a horror movie.
“That’s all!” I wept. “I just have to put on my jeans and go on!”
“Well, Ann, don’t bother! You look pretty good in everything!” Mike concluded in an awkward attempt to fix the situation.
“Well, that’s it!” Juls rushed to her room to get back with an elegant silver box.
I knew what it was in it – the same dress we bought for her, a day before, after three long hours of rummaging through millions of dresses in Moscow shops. She handled it to me and sighed, trying not to look at Mike. I let the white silk down in my hand, light as a spring dream.
“What a dress!” Mike revived. “That will be just what you want!”
“That’s the one she wanted to wear for some date!” I muttered, unwilling to take this gift.
Mike stared at Jul’s remote face and laughed.
“Well, we can stay at home then! Will we, Julia?”
I popped up my eyes. I wouldn’t ever guess that her secret dater was Mike! Juls came to him and stole a light kiss from his lips. I murmured:
“Do I have to congratulate you, guys, for playing your tricks behind me?”
“Sorry, Ann!” Juls looked ashamed.
“Haven’t you told her?” Mike wondered. I shook my head. “I hope you are not offended!”
“Of course, not! Juls gave me all the cards – just try to tell me something about my private life, and I’ll pay you twice!” I smiled to my sister and with my soul free pulled on her dress.
Juls had a great taste for good things. It was an aristocrat dress without any luxuries and vulgarity. White, open in shoulders with a freely dropping skirt above the knees, it made me look like a greek goddess. I put on my high –hilled sandals and looked in the mirror. The image was almost complete. Something must have been done with my hair but I could only brush them thoroughly and create a pony-tail.
I tore Juls from Mike and demanded her to make me up. When Juls took the brush, the intercom announced Leuce was already here. I spread the mascara over the eyelashes and rushed out.
“Have a nice evening, Ann!” Mike shouted.
Leuce greeted me with an approving glance, then clicked her tongue – that was her greatest estimate for my looks. I sighed with relief and immediately forgot all the fuss about the cloths. I’ll replenish my balance at the party.
“For whom?” she asked me in some minutes of silence.
“For no one, but myself!”
“Knowing you that well, I have nothing to do but believe! But I was already thinking about one guy...”
“Who?”
“Ann, don’t pretend to be blind! You see every single girl around us is about two guys – our dearest Valerie or our mysterious Philip, miss idiot Curlie who’s about Dimah! Philip? Valerie? I’ll see who will win tonight!”
“Are they going to come? Both?”
“The cards were given to all the teachers! What about Philip, I invited him by myself!”
“What an honour! Do you think, they’ll come?” I doubted.
“Philip will, surely!” she exclaimed and I stared at her.
The city passed by fast, as we drove the highway to the club. Leuce looked as ever – fantastic hair-dress, a short skirt and gym-shoes with an exotic design. The lightest traces of make up lay on her eaves. The wind chinked two little silver horses in her ears. I liked her charming looks – that wasn’t striking beauty, but a soft loveliness of a good friend. I knew how it worked on men – firstly, they became Leuce’s friends, her companions in surfing, biking, diving Then they discovered that it was hard to live without her and as a result drowned in love. Unfortunately, Leuce’s heart was for no one in this world.
She was made for travels and adventutes, for encounters and partings. She enjoyed her life as much as she could, living every single moment like it was the last. Parties, big companies and lots of drink – that was her existence that she managed to combine with education.
What for did she need Philip, this dark guy without any drunken party kinks?
“Are you the one in Philip’s club?” I asked.
“I wish he wanted me to be! ‘Cause he doesn’t want anyone in his club! He’s a real riddle!”
“You can have a try!”
“There’s a girl who outgoes me a step!”
“Don’t look at me so, Leucy! Follow the road, please! Philip’s not the thing I want!” I reassured her.
She stopped the car near the porch and then only answered:
“Ann, if you ever know what you want, please, tell me about it!”
The party was in it’s heat – Leuce had never appeared anywhere in first hours. The whole atmosphere wasn’t that smoked down and poured with beer as it was in ‘El paraiso’. Just in case, I checked guys in leather – no one encroached upon my freedom, except Daniel who caught us indoors and dragged in the depth of the club. There, on the big sofa I saw my classmates. Greeting others with a brief nod, Leuce grabbed the beer from the table and vanished in the crowd. Tany and Mary followed her, inseparable with glasses.
“Here you are!” Kathe shouted in my ear, hugging. “We were just guessing if Leuce drove into a lamppost!”
“No!” I shouted. “That won’t prevent her from coming!”
Kathe smiled. She was a little bit drunk already, her cheeks red and eyes shine. She pointed her finger at Dimah. He ran jokes with Dan and Alex who were almost dead-laughing under the table. Drunk, I diagnosed.
“We made it up!” she said.
Then she danced to Dimah and offered him the glass. They drank brotherhood, exchanged ritual kisses and Kathe drove him out for a new drink. I followed them to the counter. The barman scrutinized me and asked.
“Just arrived, yeah?”
I smiled.
“Then I’ve got a thrill for you!”
He put a glass in front of me. At first it was empty, but after several maneuvres that I could hardly control, it was half-filled with suspicious blue liquid. I sniffed it. It smelled nothing and I decided it was alright.
I found Jacob and Lisa near the scene where they tried to convince the rock-musician to perform something romantic for them. The guy dodged, saying there was no romance in the playlist. Jacob didn’t give in and insisted, threatening to the guy with all his height, Lisa added some asking notes in whole duet. I decided to interfere and moved Jacob away.
“Okay, but if you don’t, I’ll pour this potion on your hair and they will fall out! Do you want to be bald?”
My words didn’t work that good that my dress did. Poor guy stared at my legs, then at my bosom and seemed to have stayed there forever. I touched his shoulder, making him back. His eyes, dim with foretaste lingered on my neck, unable to get higher. I changed the strategy.
“Will you? For me?”
He nodded absently and climbed the stage, trying not to move his looks from the low neck. What did he find there? Leuce was the champion about the decolletes, not me.
“Thanks!” Lisa smiled to me. “That wasn’t kind of you, but Jacob would be less merciful!”
“I was searching for you to say I’m glad! I hope you’ll be happy!”
“Thanks, Anna! Nice of you! Have fun, please, and - do me a favour! Go and ask the barman to make you something more drinkable! Jacob has already passed through this blue poison and he had to fight with vomit for half an hour!” she said.
I put the glass on the stage, winked to the musician and went to demand for a proper drink.
The barman was sad that I didn’t want another draught of potion. I ensured him, the first one was so good that I wasn’t on my feet already. So, I said, I would be grateful for a glass of simple red wine with no – I repeated it two times – no extra additions. I kept an eye on him while he opened the bottle and poured the wine in my glass.
I didn’t have my lucky chance to drink it. The musician announced a romantic dance. For a minute there was a kind of panic on the dance floor: girls and boys rushed around, searching for a partner. I was standing in the very eye of the fuss, trying to hold my ground and my wine. There was unlikely someone wishing to have my company so I had to wait until the panic faded and take the vacat seat.
The more I was confused when he invited me for a dance. This guy wasn’t surely the one I wanted for a partner. But I accepted his hand and he dragged me in the very center of the floor.
Well, Anne, I said to myself, take it as a pure experiment – what is he now, has he changed a little or does he think I changed.
Andrew put one hand around my shoulder, second around my waist and I appeared to be in a ring of his iron muscles. Again, like there was no whole year of uncertainty and grieve. I would pay one thousand lives for a little chance to feel him near mine – a year ago. Now his hands were just chains. And I was a bird in a cage – anyhow I wasn’t going to sing anymore for him.
We swayed in a slow rumba rhythm – and the crowd seemed to drown in distance. The sounds faded. The darkness condensed. The lights became weak and timid. Suddenly there was no world – only two of us, one for one. My heartbeat slowed down, my breath became infrequent as if I was agonizing, painless. Drowning and would never resurface. I wanted to move, to push him but the reality itself wasn’t giving away to me. Everything around me was artificial, even my own existence. I was a heroine of an old movie, a trace of a life on the old filmstrip and someone stopped it. In the moment I was and at the same time I wasn’t – between existence and death.
There was no Andrew near me. The darkness itself. And it sucked me in. I struggled – my body could hardly make a movement. I cried – and no one would ever hear the plead. I fell in the emptiness and it was full of horror and blood.
The black around me suddenly turned red – a pond over the tile. Sixteen yellow roses stained. I didn’t need to count them to know the number – accurate sixteen of them. I cried. I always cried when this vision distorted my peace. I was going to cry for the rest of my life just to wash this blood away from my hands, from the light-blue tile, from my life, finally.
I didn’t cry that time he left me. I shed blood.
We returned to the reality again. The crowd still was swaying happily not knowing what monsters dwelled among them. I sighed with relief, this time I wouldn’t drown. I just had to listen to the end of the song and disappear.
“How are you, Annie?” Andrew turned to me. His words burnt my ear.
“I am okay, thanks!” I answered, guessing what he wanted from me.
“You look splendid! I don’t mean your dress, but you!”
His long eye-lashes almost covered his eyes and I couldn’t see the sparkle in them. But the foretaste poured out of his words. The fingers on my skin began to draw tracery – this was his old trick. I knew what he was thinking about.
A year ago I would be the happiest one to give it to him. Now I would rather spent my lifetime with Philip than step on the old path with a familiar final.
Will this stupid song ever end?
Andrew put the hand on my chin and caressed my lips with a thumb. I stood motionless, wishing the torment would end soon. Less anything in this world I wanted to explain him that everything was over. Telling him the words he told me once would be too odd.
“Anne!” his whisper turned enticing. “Let’s forget our old partings and omissions! Let us be together... forever!”
His lips were reaching mine. I couldn’t move in his steel hug. I shivered. Andrew was like a constrictor for me, poor rabbit. He mesmerized me, he sucked life out of me through my eyes. I couldn’t keep going.
Oh, if there was Philip to save me, just if he was near I would have enough strength to fight. If there was Philip to call my name so that I woke up. If there was Philip near me to care...
Andrew’s lips were closer and closer.
“No!” I whispered.
He didn’t hear.
“No!” my protest was more of a cheep than a real objecting.
He smiled to me and shook his head.
“Don’t be afraid!”
His voice was petrifying my volition. I melted, far from taking pleasures.
That must not have been happening. I had to save myself, I, not anyone else.
“Andrew! Everything’s over! Don’t you remember? It was you who broke up so easy! Just don’t spoil everything, trying to wake up the old mistakes! I can’t pretend you anything more than my instructor! You see?”
“Me? I broke up? Really?” he got surprised.
God bless the musicians who finally realized, they were carried away. My relieved sigh faded in the common cheers. Immediatly I tore from Andrew, as he relaxed a little. Making my way to the counter I still felt his ominous glare upon my skin. What was he thinking about?
I breathed heavy like if I was dancing samba on the carnival in Rio, not a single slow dance. Andrew drunk my vital powers and left nothing on the bottom. Now I needed a real drink to fill up my neural tissues.
“A glass of wine, please!” I commanded the barman. He examined me above the counter and poked into a glass in my hand.
“What don’t you like about this one?”
Two minutes it took me to understand where I took this glass from. During the whole song I danced with a glassful of wine in my hand, too stressed to remember about it. Drowning and dying! I could simply pour the wine on Andrew’s trousers to prevent him from bla-bla-bla.
I laughed about my stupidity.
“Just give me one more glass! I’m celebrating my happy escape!” I handled him the glass.
“From that blonde guy?”
“Ah, well, he’s my ex!”
The barman nodded and instead of the glass poured me wine in a stylish tankard. I looked around, hoping Andrew or some other predator wouldn’t catch me on my way.
Fortunately, the sofa was vacant. Kathe took the guys and made them dance. Dimah tried his best, and I wondered what Kathe had done to him that he became so silk and soft. Alex and Dan, encouraged by some bottles of beer, made impossible movements. The circus troupe would take them with open arms. There was no Tany, Mary or Leuce, surely, drifting in search for a decent guy. Leuce, then, must have been near Philip.
“Huh, Baby Ann, are you still sober?” she appeared suddenly with three bottles of wine.
One she placed on my table, said “Amaze yourself!” and vanished again. I examined the bottle in doubts. Drinking alone was the first sympton of alcoholism. On the other side if I was going to become a drunkard I would have something more precious than a bottle of wine.
I finished the first tankard and began to pour the second one when the firm hand stopped me and took the bottle away.
“Don’t drink too much, Hannah! That won’t end good!”
Ah, here’s he! When I don’t need him at all!
Philip leaned over the table. How could he charm me so that everything around me stopped existing, spinning, swirling and froze, leaving only me opposite him, like two fighters ready for a battle. He changed his favourite orange colour for a black shirt, half open on the chest and I saw the drops of sweat on his bronze skin. In the lurid club light he seemed an evil shadow, that one I saw in my dreams. His face was darkened and I could say nothing particular about his expression. If he turned a little...
“There’s no one to violate me this time!” I joked awkwardly.
Suddenly the shadow appeared close to me.
“What about me?”
He fell on me, his lips dancing upon my face. He touched my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead, my chin and left my lips untouched as if they could hurt him. I didn’thave a chance to think over the situation. His force was irresistable. His hands pressed mine to the sofa, his fingeres waved around my fingers – every part of my body felt him like if he was everywhere. Every cell of mine felt his weight on me, every single cell aspired for him. I wanted to release my hands to press him to me, to suffocate in my embraces, never to let go.
When his lips touched mine I shivered – so much fire was in them. Philip caressed me, demanded and I yielded. All the thoughts were gone except the one “I want him”. I was going to spoil everything again, just to fulfill my momentary lust. It seemed more of me, greater than anything possible. It was boiling in my veins, it made me animal and brisk. It was like an ancient magic. Moon one, infatuating, thrilling and burning you down.
I was mad. I was mad from the very beginning.
I relaxed in his grasp, surrending my body to the vigour. His tongue touched my lips and he relaxed too, decieved by my resignation. I released my wrists and with a superhuman effort pushed him away. He leant on the sofa, sweating. I moved farther, watching him wildly.
 “You, how can you hate me that much?” I asked.
“I don’t hate you. I despise you!” he answered.
I thought it over. His words didn’t bother me at all.
“That’s very nice of you! How can you despise me that much... and want me that strong?”
“Bestial desire! I am a demon, forgot?” he grinned.
I scrutinized him carefully. Well, he knew exactly what he was. And I knew. An he knew that I knew. In fact, I had done nothing to be despised for and he knew it also well.
”Isn’t it you whom you despise?”
While he was thinking I checked his glass. There was orange juice in it. Who could imagine that this brutal guy preferred harmless orange juice to serious drinks? Alex and Dan meddled beer with everything within easy reach. Girls liked potions called cocktails with pyramids of fruits over the rim. Of course, there were professional drinkers among us – Leuce could outdo anyone in this club. As for me, I was devoted to wine and rarely, just for special occasions, joined my friends in mixing poisons in my stomach.
This Spanish guy wasn’t from our company. I could bet, he had never spent a night at sobering’s. In this meaning his life might have been rather dull.
Thus when he turned away I made favour to him and poured some Daniel’s vodka in his glass. Smiling friendly, I banged his glass with mine, inviting for a toast.
“I hope you’ll be better one day!” I said.
The wine slipped down in my throat. I didn’t like the taste but appreciated the feeling of being thoughtless after it. Juls used to say all my problems were of too much thinking. Perhaps, she was right. Sometimes she mouthed incredibly wise things. The problem of Juls was that they were far too late to repair wrongs.
Uhmm, as for the wine it’s queer effect didn’t take long to touch my brains. The ideas in my head became laconic, still – not too much of them. The main one sparkled through the dim like a guiding star – more wine, please.
I smiled to Philip, encouraging him to participate in getting drunk.
“Hey, you, I just thought that I had already got tight two times this week and if I go on... what will happen to me?”
He drank from his glass and choked. I grinned triumphantly and patted his shoulder.
“Sorry, but I can’t watch you sober, poor child!”
“Child?” he stared at me, unbelieving the speed with wich I absorbed the liquid.
I liked the feeling of being irresponsible so much. Demonic nature of my boon-companion meant nothing now. He could be a president of the US and would have to listen to my drunken discourse. If he was a president, I would probably talk to him serious about the realtionship of our conutries.
In the morning we could have a chance to compare our police-offices.
I discovered I ran out of wine so the remainders of beer were put to use. My friends told me that decreasing the degree would make me drunk even sooner. Huh, that was what I wanted.
They also said something about the hang-over, but I didn’t remember what.
“You see! I wanted to say about disgugustion... or digustiting... Well, I forgot!”
I grabbed the glass from him and emptied it by a sip. Nothing was left on the table for me and I stood up to have a second helping. Philip suddenly lifted me up and carried to the exit.
“If you are going to act like that guy...in El parasiso... uhmmm... Pasariso...Papariso...” I stared at him, waiting for support.
“Paraiso!” he said.
“Thanks, well, if you gonna, just warn me, I’ll refuse!” I said.
“I am not going to rape you!” he reassured me.
I didn’t think that was too cool. Watching him trying to rape me would be a perfect entertainment. Stop! But if he... does... I’ll have to participate and... who will watch? The disappointment felt like itching – somewhere in my head. Disappointment – it’s no good. You can get a heart decease if you are disappointed too often. If this guy disappoints me one more time I will blow him. I surely will blow him. There are no doubts (ahh, well, doubts, they cause cancer). I will blow him if he does. But if he blows me back...
That will be already two disappointments – they will suffice for a little locate heart decease.
“Have you ever blowed a woman, Philip?” I asked as he shoveled me into Toyota.
“I have never, but I think its time to change the situation!”
“If you disappoint me, I will have a heart decease!” I warned him, poking my finger in his ribs.
The nail on it was broken. I shed a lonely tear about it and chose another finger to point. That was the third one and the gesture turned out a little bit vulgar. I wasn’t too drunk for such gestures and examined my hand, looking for a better candidature. Philip followed my movements with interest and said:
“You can use your left hand!”
He was right. There was a whole forefinger, valid for poking. The problem was that I forgot what I wanted to poke in. That deserved another lone tear. More tears would be a waste of mascara.
“So... disappointment! Don’t do this to me!” I threatened him. He grinned again. “Don’t you believe me? I can hurt you!” I said, proud.
He raised his eye-brow in an offensive expression.
“I’ll prove you!” I assured him and hit his head. The blow wasn’t strong I dreamt but it deserved a return blow. He scratched the hurt crown and grinned again.
“You are funny!” he said.
He didn’t hurt me back – unfair. Why did he act like a gentleman when I wanted him to be a normal guy? Why did he act like a nerd, when I wanted him to be a gentle man? Do I want too much? Do I want too inopportune?
A man who acts so that I have that many question deserves a good psychiatrist. Demons? Who believes in demons? They must be black and giant, with sharp teeth and flames around them, with a thunder laughter. They eat new-borns and spoil virgins! I am none. What can a normal demon forget around me? Where is his sulfur odours? His flames?
I sniffed – orange juice and smell of his car.
“You are not a demon!” I concluded and shook my head in conviction. “I ‘ill prove you!”
“No, thanks!”
I stared at him. Then laughed.
“No’ I just wanted to tell you! That’s simple!”
He waited. I scratched my head – no ideas in it. But just a minute before I was thinking about something! I was! Hundred percent! My face might have been poor and pitiful.
“Do you like me?” I asked instead.
He watched me in darkness, calm and serious. I flapped my eye-lashes because every girl flapped in such moments. In movies at least.
“Do I have to answer?”
“Oh, don’t wriggle out! I asked plain! Yes or no! Okay, “si or no”, “oui or non”, “ya or nicht”! Everything will suit me!”
“You said not to disappoint you. What do you want to hear?” he went on evading the straight answer.
I want? That’s nice of him to ask me what I want... I want... Stop! I could ask myself what I wanted...
“Truth!” I said firmly, if it was possible to speak firm when my tongue twisted with a speed of 500 turns a minute.
“No!” he said in Spanish. I got pensive.
“That suits me well! Why do you listen to me then?”
Only a complete jerk could enjoy my endless chat while he wasn’t my fan even. Do I have such a fan that goes through it on his own will?
“I want to drive you home but have to wait until you shut up and fall asleep. Your speaking will distract me from finding the way!”
“Do you know where I live?”
“ Si!” he breathed. “Just have a sleep, Ann, otherwise we’ll have to spend the night in my car!”
“I like your car! What’s wrong with it?”
“I guess your bed is better!” he smiled – I liked the smile.
“No” I said. “Don’t drive me home! Juls -, you see, my s..ss..hermana uhm – she will be angry with me! She is a demon, not you, Philip!” I scratched my head, my eyes almost closed.
“What about mine?” he said.
“Uhm!” I said.
“Smart of you!” he sighed. “You are such a child, Hannah. Why do I have to decide every time?”
“Because you are a man!” I said. “Or aren’t you?”
“I hope I am!” he said, starting the engine. It roared and I shrunk in the seat.
“Where are we going?” I murmured, trying to comfort myself in the seat. I couldn’t find a place where to lay my head. It didn’t fit anything I saw. So I put it on Philip’s knees under the wheel and asked not to twitch.
“Didn’t you get offended?” he whispered, when I was almost asleep.
“With what?” I wondered, yawning. The answer I didn’t hear.
 
Chapter 8
Nightmare

Something tender and gentle touched my hot cheek with freshness. I licked my dry lips and groaned, unwilling to check what encroached on my peaceful slumber. The touch lingered on my skin for a second and then – there was something hotter on it. Something that pulled me momentarily from the sleep, just to push in the depth of pleasure.
The kiss hurt. I felt somebody’s warmth close to me, someone’s breath blowing air in my lungs, someone’s weight through the blanket. The kiss was rather shy, but it razed me. I couldn’t realize where I was and what I was doing, to begin with, totally unable to open my eyes. The fear to break the illusion was strong. I didn’t want to discover the empty room when I woke up. While I screwed them up, I saved the dream live.
Who was my night kisser – didn’t matter at all. Because I perfectly knew who he was, well, who I wanted him to be. In the dream everything was possible.
I couldn’t resist long. My body wanted to participate too. It needed to move, to shiver, to shudder. The way I strained it to captivate the dream didn’t benefit it. My muscles ached, finally crumbling sleepiness to dust. I had to open my eyes, to face the reality.
It was dark and silent in the room , save a sound of hard breath. It wasn’t mine, surely, for even having opened my eyes, I refused to inhale. It belonged to the one who traced a poisonous path of kisses on my neck. The air was soaked with desire and it flooded over me when I sucked in the first portion. My head went dizzy and swirly. My body twitched and resigned.
My hands pushed away the blanket and wound around the body near me. The man hoarsed and shrunk back. In the moon beam the face seemed distorted with pain and lust at the same time, creased and terrified it was – still – recognizable.
“Philip!” I exhaled.
Well, wasn’t he the one I’d expected to meet? Not in a reality, but in a dream?
“I couldn’t resist!” he moaned, moving away.
I didn’t accept any apologies. I pressed him hard to my chest and felt his heart beat. It worked like a machinery, steady and confident. His body strained over mine, like if he didn’t like the way I held him.
“Why are you rejecting me now?” I whispered, trying to catch his look.
He slipped away, whether self-ashamed, whether not happy to watch me.
“I don’t understand, Philip! Weren’t you the first to begin? What were you doing then?”
“I don’t know!” he sighed.
Words. Too much time was spent on words. No more words. Especially now, when I was so harmonious with my mind and my body. We all wanted the same damn thing – Philip shut up and move in the rhythm he produced not so long ago.
I didn’t kiss him the way he did. I had another aim – not to enjoy myself, but envolve him in my entertainment. Whatever suddenly prevented him from continuation, it didn’t make sense to me. I was going to break anything that was on my way to having him.
It was hard to convince him. His face remained dark and tortured while I explored it, leaving marks in each point. I made my way through the chin, through cheeks, made circles on his temples and cheek-bones. I kissed his eyes, making squint from pleasure. I tickled his eye-lashes with my lips and caressed eye-lids. He remained calm and self-controlling. I didn’t give up.
There was so much interesting in him. He was not like other men I kissed. May be, that’s what he was – a god, or a demon, may be, an angel and a little of prince from a fairy-tale. An ancient hero, a warrior. A wise ruler. A barbarian... Everything he was for me now. And milimetre to milimetre I opened the veil of mystery from his face, giving the kisses therefor.
I found his lips. They were pressed and with all my desire I wouldn’t be able to unlock them. It was his choice whether he wanted me or not. I did want him. I barely cared about tomorrow. Tomorrow was a future, distant and uncertain, while the best guy I ever desired lay barechest over me, half-ready to yield.
Even this stronghold wasn’t that solid. He felt the desire too and it was obvious.
His lips trembled as I touched them. I pressed him even harder to my chest . As I felt resignation, I rolled over to make him underneath. The sound of his groan broke from his mouth and I caught them open immediately. My hands freely travelled over his chest and lower. That wasn’t too far-seeing from me. He was a man in the end, and his body always won over his gentleman’s manners. My tongue got into his mouth and touched his. He groaned again and pushed me away.
In the darkness his eyes reflected the moonlight, almost silver.
“Don’t get that far. I don’t want to spoil you!” he shouted.
I didn’t know what I thought about when he jumped off the bed and rushed away from the room. I heard his steps fade in the bathroom. He turned on the showe. There was nothing but the rustle of watershed.
Absently, I scrutinized the wall opposite me. My head was empty. I knew if I began to analyze the situation I wouldn’t find anything good in it. I would find it gross. It wasn’t the exact word, but I didn’t want to think about the exacter one. It was enough that I was left alone in the room. I didn’t want to think about the details. I didn’t want my head to explode with despair.
There would never be a day to have the situation thought about. It was better to forget everything, to hide in the saves of memory. I knew my memory could do such a favour to me. My protective mechanisms worked well. The bads must have been erased or hid.
I learnt well how to keep whole and safe so that no one could hurt me.
When Philip walked out of the bathroom I was already dressed, sitting silent on the sofa. He looked fantastic but I also refused o hink about it. So my mind registered only drops of water on his bronze skin and wet raven hair. Half and hour ago it would, of course, impress me and inspire for feats. Now – I controlled all the thoughts and emotions so that none of them appeared in my brains.
Philip stopped in the middle of the room and peered at me. I watched him indifferent.
“Sorry, Hannah! I see your point. I’ll drive you home in a minute!”
We didn’t talk while he drove the car to mine. I had neither will, nor strength. The slumber attacked me when I comforted myself on the seat. It was, god be blessed, thoughtless and empty – such a rare gift for me.

If I thought I would get used to waking up with an awful headache – I was completely short-sighted. Drinking always leaves some perceptible consequences. I found many of them – beginning with a swollen face and ending with no normal thought in my mind. Everything I said finished with a swearword. The pain was unbearable but I fought it down and crawled to the bathroom to have a cold shower upon my hot head.
God bless, Juls didn’t have to wake up that early! I wouldn’t bear her wail and abuse. My self-ashame was enough to feel a complete idiot.
The most terrible thing was that I didn’t remember how I got to such a condition. There was a glass of wine but it was – the only. Or wasn’t it?
I remembered nothing and had to redden for nothing. I thought so before the moment I entered the class. Everyone turned to me immediately and stared, waiting. I hesitated in the entrance.
“Here she is, our dearest baby Ann, the great heroine of chukchi’s epos!” Leuce didn’t lose her chance to prick me with acid.
I went on keeping silence: everything I said would be interpreted wrong and complicate my justification. My friends didn’t hurry with charge.
“What’s wrong?” I tried to be friendly, although the hang-over didn’t dispose to a pleasant conversation.
“Andrew!” Leuce snapped her fingers.
“And?” I smiled and took my place near Kathe.
Fortunately, my bestfriend didn’t take part in common fun. She stole dreamy glances at Dimah, poor guy, who hid from them behind a magazine, pretending he was reading.
“I saw you kissed!” Mary said.
I didn’t get it, at first.
“Kissed? With Who?”
“With Andrew!” Mary frowned.
“You saw me kissing with Andrew, right?”
“Yes!” she said, exasperated.
I though it over.
“How could you?” I finally asked. “If we didn’t!”
I said it so firm and confident that all the heads turned to Mary, first corns of doubts in the rich soil. Mary looked at me angrily.
“At first you danced!” she said.
I smiled.
“We didn’t!”
“You did!” Mary was perplexed not less than others.
She considered to have seen everything by her own eyes. I considered that I couldn’t make such a folly – a dance with my ex, not speaking about the kiss. In fact, the certainty about not-kissing Andrew and not-dancing with him was based only on my burning assuarance I couldn’t do it. Impossible!
The door opened and Philip entered the class. Mary sighed with relief.
“Here’s he! He might have seen Ann with him, because he was drinking with Jacob near them!”
Philip took his place and only after asked what the problem was.
“Ann says there was no Andrew around her yesterday night!”
Philip watched me. I watched him. He hesitated whether to tell what I wanted or what Mary wanted. As long as I didn’t know what I wanted, Philip said the truth (and it was not what I liked):
“Hannah danced with the philosopher, if you are interested in it! What’s a problem? Don’t you remember?” the last question was personally for me. I smiled, a little bit confused and terribly self-ashamed. I’ll give up drinking, I promise!
Mary shrieked with satisfaction and showed me her tongue.
Traitor, I thought about my memory. I should have known!
There still was another deal – if I danced with Andrew and Mary saw it... did she saw us kiss? I choked and walked closer to Philip.
“Go on!” I commanded. “Let me know everything to the end!”
“What do you want from me?” Philip grimaced, unbelieving. Of all the people around me, he seemed the most bewildered one. As if I’d done something wrong with him.
“Just tell me if I kissed him or not!” I asked.
Everyone around me kept silence. I heard only my teeth chatter with anger.
“Does it matter?”
Yes it does. I could tell no one, not to mention Philip, how hard it was to pass through the rumours and pains, trying to overcome myself. Before Andrew abandonned me, my life was clear and common – parties, classes, boyfriends and flights in the night. I felt myself not different with any other girl. I was normal in all the meanings of this great word.
And then he turned my world upside down. Unable to cope with emotions, with despair and pain, I rejected life. I didn’t need it anymore without Andrew by my side. I cut my veins and watched the blood flow down on the floor. I suicided.
Dimah, my guardian angel, saved me that time. Although I didn’t want to be saved. I demanded for death. I was mad.
From then on I knew that the next time my broken heart wouldn’t leave me any chance. Men were prohibited for me. I knew not for how long. I hoped no one would cross my lifeline again. But Andrew – that was too much for my wounds. They were healed, but traces remained. So was about my mind – cured, but not solid.
Falling in love with Andrew would cost me life. And if I wanted an easy suicide I should have gone the same vicious path, the familiar one.
God, no!
I waited for Philip’s verdict. Mary still didn’t want to leave the laurels of an unmasker to Philip.
“I saw them lying on the sofa and kissing! I can swear!”
She didn’t need to lie. I felt my head dizzy and uneven. The colours faded and blurred. I struggled to keep myself on the surface.
 “No!” Philip said. “She wasn’t there with the philosopher! She was there with me!”
Mary choked. Leuce sighed and turned away.
“With you?” I wondered.
“Si!” he breathed out through his usual grin.
Everything was on its place now. I was drunk. I made follies. Not too much of them to get a bullet in my head. Else... Philip used my unconsciousness to satisfy his vile intentions and now ... does he think I will redden in ashame?
I announced:
“Now I remember! You kiss great, darling! Thanks for the session!”
“Session?” he raised his eye-brow.
“Kissing one! I call it session!”
In fact I could recall nothing particular. Something strange happened, weird and dangerous but still everything was unclear. Why did I ask Andrew a dance? Or did he?
Too much question would twirl my brains. I’d better spend my energy supply on organics than on this vain self-analyzing.
My classmates decided that Philip wasn’t that worse as Andrew and forgot about our strange relationship in a minute. Only Leuce glared at me angrily.
“Just don’t mind it! That was my drunk activity! You know that was a deed I wouldn’t like to remember!” I explained her. “You can get the guy as soon as you want! I am not your rival!”
“Wouldn’t like to remember? Does he kiss that awful?”
Then I leaned closer and whispered:
”You know... the matter is that I don’t remember!”
Leuce twisted the finger near the temple and stole a glance at the subject of discuss. Philip abstracted as usually from the reality and drowned in his sketch-book. My curiousity called me to have a look upon his records. Well, the next drunk time I would probably have an impudence.
Today we had a difficult synthesis. Kathe looked through the manual, planning how to obtain novocaine from toluene in five stages. I drew the schemes of plants in my note-book. Mary and Tany argued (it was their constant state), Alex and Dan stared uncomprehending in the text-book. Firstly, they had to discover what novocaine was. Leuce waited for Philip to solve the task for both of them. Finally she got him in a pair, leaving poor Dimah all alone. But Philip didn’t aspire too strong to share the organic chemistry with Leuce. When the classes began he disappeared in the hall before the teacher could settle him to the work. While Leuce’s hero was strolling somewhere the teacher kept an eye on her, so that Leuce had to feign that she was thinking.
We designed a plan of the synthesis first and the teacher gave us the go-ahead. Kathe stayed to assemble the apparatus for refluxion and distillation. I was send for the reagents and missing spares.
The corridor was deserted, only from some labs I heard muttering and buzz – the sounds of a chemical brainstorming. On half way to the store-room I met Jacob with handsful of bottles and powders.
“What are you doing today?” I asked.
“Acetylsalicinic acid!” he frowned, as if it was a poison he had to feed up to his pet.
“That’s cool! We are through novocaine! “
“But you don’t have to test it on yourself when you synthesize, do you?” he worried.
My reciprocal smile was rather forced. Every attempt to grimace caused headache.
“Well, are you to the store-room? Lisa’s there, she pours the acids in bottles. All the laboratory assistants are away today. We have to do everything by ourselves. She’ll demand for the scholarship increase! Why do we have to do their work?”
“And milk, too – for insalubrity!”
Jacob continued his way, so did I. I wasn’t in a hurry, quite aware there was plenty of time to enjoy the silence. The constant buzzing tossed in my ears so that I wanted to climb on the wall and howl. The absence of people, muttering and laughing, cooled down the pain in my head. Hundredth time today I promised myself never to touch the glasses and bottles again.
“Baby Ann? Where are you going?”
Philip appeared so abruptly from behind the corner that the list of reagents fell from my hands. He played a gentleman, picked it up for me and presented with a light bown. I curtseyed with a mincing smile. We both laughed. Well, it was me who laughed (without too much joy), Philip demonstrated his usual grin and ran upstairs.
The store-room was like a branch office of an archive – endless shelves meddled with laboratory tables. Instead of books, there were reagents – powders, liquids, liquid gases, acids and bases, crystal salts and dissolved in different solvents. Usually a laboratory assistant helped us with finding nessesary reagents, weighing and pouring them, but today the room was deserted. I called for Lisa.
My calling was just a tribute to the genre. There was no doubt, the room was totally empty. Lisa might have gone to the lady’s room. A forgotten bottle remained on the table, unfastened lid lay on the floor. I sniffed the liquid. Well, it was my number one in a list. Hydrochloric acid. I pulled on the elastic gloves and scanned the nearest shelf.
There was nothing interesting – organic powders of all colours and consistence. I moved to the next shelf. When I opened the door a foul smell of acetone almost suffocated me. I shut up the door and wiped the tears away. Fuf... what a stench! Trying not to smell in I took out three big bottles and rushed to the sink, to water my face.
Now I had to pour the liquid from big bottles to the smaller ones. It wasn’t that easy I’d pretended. I should have gone to call for help, because the bottles were of thick glass – very heavy. Writhing like a worm I filled the first bottle with toluene and fell exhausted on the chair. It wasn’t a girlish work. It needed man’s strength.
In some minutes Jacob came to help me with acids. I pointed at the bottles. He managed with them without any visible effort, while I rummaged the room in search for nickel.
“No nickel!” I complained to Jake.
“Where’s Lisa? She was searching for nickel too!”
“I think she’s in the girl’s room! I didn’t find her here!” I said.
“You, girls, spent too much time in front of the mirror!” he winked to me.
“Aha, don’t forget to buy Lisa a big-big mirror!” I giggled.
I liked the way sounds were here, in the store-room. They reflected from the white walls and returned to us million times distorted by the air and therefore funny and unfamiliar. We were lone here, but these sounds created an atmosphere of somebody’s else presence. You could pretend anyone, including the Queen of United Kingdom, especially after some hours in the stinking air of the room.
Jake passed me a box with magnesium chloride. I went to the adjoining room to weigh the crystals. There was a broken test-tube on the table, with a little stain of blood on the neck. I took it by the neck and tossed in the bin. A tiny cut appeared on the glove. It followed the tube.
Lisa might have been also cut and gone to the medicine-room. I searched the scales. It weren’t on the place and I opened the cupboard.
The weak shriek I uttered was like a string broken. The silence absorbed it, digested and spitted right in my ears. I stared at Lisa, unwilling to understand what she forgot in a cupboard in such a strange posture. If it was a joke, it didn’t make sense. It was gross. The word appeared on my tongue and spinned on it, leaving a strange flavour of iron. I breathed in deep and, unable to breathe out, froze with my mouth open, all the words unsaid and thoughts unthought.
“Lise?” I exhaled and my heartbeat quickened millions times.
She stared at me, her eyes popped up in a confused expression. The smile lingered on her blue lips, like a curved grimace – a tortured fake grin. Her skin was unnaturally pale, almost grey-green. Her hair, tousled and tangled, looked lifeless and disgusting.
“Lise?” I squeezed, probably, the same colour as she was.
Instead of an answer her spineless arm fell out of the cupboard.
I shrieked at all my strength, unable to stand the vision. Wild spasms of vomit bent my stomach.
“Baby Ann? Are you okay? Have you cut?” Jacob’s voice approached.
I returned the arm on its place, closed the cupboard and leaned on it. Jake entered the room, scratching his head pensively. I watched him enthusiastically, with a smile, demonstrating everything was alright.
Jacob relaxed, seeing nothing bad happened. I could decieve him, but not my stomach. It couldn’t act like I saw nothing. It twitched inside of me, coiled and I rushed to the sink to vomit. In a second the stomach was empty but it didn’t help. I still was dizzy and uncertain about the reality outside my own feelings. Lisa in the cupboard wasn’t a reality. It was just my halluciantion, I said to myself.
It wasn’t and I knew it. But the longer Jacob keeps away the happier he’ll be.
 “I am allright!” I smiled more confidently. “I’ve smelled too much acid, I think! I need air! Can’t you get me out, Jake?”
I took his hand and dragged to the exit. He followed me showing no resistance. But suddenly pushed me away and ran back. I rushed for him.
I wasn’t a good liar.
His roar tore my ears in dust. I fell on the floor, pressing my hands to them, wishing the sound would fade. Jacob wasn’t going to calm down ever. I rose on my feet and walked back slowly, like a lunatic and stopped indoors, leaning weakly on the jamb. I felt the hot tears fell from my eyes and ran down the cheeks: the picture in front of me faded and washed out.
I didn’t want to see what I saw. Lisa’s wrenched hand dumped out and Jake automatically put it back, like I did it before. His eyes remained dry, his face distorted with the roar. I bit my lip not to cry, not to get mad again. There must have been someone to stay calm and reasonable. I should have while Jake was out of reality. I should...
“Jake!” I wept with my voice shivering terribly.
He didn’t react. I fell near him and grasped his shoulder, trying to get him back, to wake him up from the nightmare.
“Jake!’
I didn’t care about Lisa. A quick glance was enough to understand everything. Her face didn’t leave any doubts. A thin ribbon on her neck was obvious. Smothered! Smothered! Murdered! The signs of approaching hysteria were to the fore. The air seemed to be imbued with the smell of death, sick odour of a corpse. That was only a delusion. The darkness was rolling on me like a tide. A prayer appeared in my brain, twisting and like a captious tune.
I was going to faint, if there wasn’t Jacob to take care of.
“Jacob! Look at me! Jake!” I shouted in his ear, shaking him like a crazed.
He turned to me. The expression in his eyes shocked me. There was nothing in them, not a grain of life. Lisa’s eyes and his barely had difference. They barely contained life. I bit my tongue and shrunk back, just not to meet face to face with this zombie.
Suddenly Jacob grabbed Lisa and began to shake her shoulders.
“Ann, she’s alive, she’s alive, she needs help! We can help her!” he cried.
I crawled to Lisa, unthinking, unhoping. I was ready to do anything Jacob asked just to make him stay in reality. While he had hope he was standing on a solid ground. While he was normal, I could go on, clinging to him like he was my last chance. The world became uneven and slipping away, threatening to turn in total darkness. I had to act, I knew.
“Ann!” he pled in my face.
I helped him to pull the body from the cupboard and pressed my ear to her motionless chest. What was I wishing to hear? A heartbeat? A single one, please, for me, for Jacob, for the ones you loved! Please... There will be much time for you to die, but this moment between death and life – it is the only one given. Use it, struggle, don’t die! Please... One little breath, one moment of air on my skin, please...
LISA!!! Do you hear me, Lisa? Please.
I couldn’t keep dry. The tears fell from my eyes like a waterfall, endless, hot. I shuddered over the dead body, asking it for one more favour it couldn’t give. She was dead, too dead for a real dead one. I knew it and still shook her body to flint a sparkle. I couldn’t stand hoping silence of Jacob. I couldn’t stand the silence in her chest. It mocked over me, even more so when I peered stupidly in her open eyes.
Please.
And it was there – that one, slightest, shortest beat I asked for. I froze, listening...
A whole eternity passed when I heard another one beat.
“Call the doctor!” I shouted to Jacob.
With his hands trembling he dialed. Only three numbers... but he missed the buttons, almost blindfold with tears. I went on listening again, wishing I didn’t mistake and we could rescue Lisa. Through my ardent prayer I heard Jacob speak with someone, cry, ask, plead and whisper then he threw the cell in the wall and – god precious! – fainted.
Oh.
There suddenly was nothing happening. A minute ago the room was full of sounds and now it was silent, like a tomb. I moved my perplexed glance from one motionless body to the dead one and choked.
Oh.
I pressed my lips to Lisa’s and, stoppling her nose, began to blow in. What was there in the first aid classes?
Blow in.
Blow in.
Check the breathing. If no breathing, continue the blowing.
Heart massage – indirect, direct. Indirect. I pressed her heart with all my strength, wishing to hear the sound of returning to life. There was nothing but my own broken inhales and exhales, hoarsed and dry.
Lisa didn’t pay ant attention to my attempts.
“Breathe!” I shouted. “Just don’t die! Breathe! You, damn you, idiot girl! BREATHE!”
I listened again. One heart beat through the silence. I shrieked, half-happy, half-despaired.
You’ll manage, Anne. You can. Please, don’t give up.
“I know you are here, Lisa! I know you can help me! Please!”
Blow in. Blow in. Heart massage. Blow in. Heart massage. Blow in...
The world went swaying. The objects blurred and silouettes became vague and undecipherable. Nothing mattered anymore. I was lacking air for myself, giving all of it to Lisa. My lungs burnt and hands began to tremble. The noise in my head had nothing similar with sound of air breathing in and out. It buzzed and jingled, exploding in my head.
I focused only on what I was doing. Counting blows became vitally important not for Lisa, but for me already. I thought I’d die if stopped for a second. I kept on blowing the air in her lungs, not checking her pulse or the heatbeat.
When I got out of breath so that almost suffocated, I broke and cried in her face, demanding for a breath, for her own struggle for life. I couldn’t save her until she made something for it. She should have wanted the same damn thing, otherwise everything I did was vain.
But these thoughts appeared somewhere in a distant part of my mind. My whole creature was concentrated only on how to blow more air in her lungs in a time. How to massage her heart so that it wouldn’t give up.
“Breathe! Just breathe! Please!!! Breathe! Breathe! Breathe!!” I cried, almost unable to move.
I had no stregth enough for the deed I was doing. I kept on trying.
Please. Lisa. For those. Who love you. For Jake. For friends. For mom. Please. Struggle. Lisa. Lisa. Lisa.
The darkness in front of my eyes condensed and laughed in my face.
“Breathe, damn you! Damn you, BREATHE!”
Please. Please. Please.
Please. Breathe. Please.

At first I didn’t understand everything was over. Ghosts floated in the room, white and transparent. I leant on the wall, half-seeing, half-oblivious. I was going to flee finally. The ghosts fussed around Lisa and Jacob and nobody noticed me, coiled in the corner. I barely needed anything except a fast merciful death.
It didn’t hurry.
The sounds of ghosts talking didn’t reach my ears. I drifted in half-consciousness, snatches of thoughts flashing in my mind. There were formulas of organic chemistry, Kathe laughing over something, Tany and Mary – alike but quarelling. There was rector with a bottle in his hands, toasting for prosperity. There was Philip, his face pensive and remote.
I couldn’t catch hold of a thought to make it lead me to reality. They were as soft and molten as my poor brains. I was useless.
Save me, my heart mourned. I don’t want to die with this stupid girl. I don’t want to join Lisa.
Wake up, Anne, my mind called. You are not dead. Wake up!
No, I answered. What for? I don’t want more pain. I don’t want more death on my way. My end will be fast and senseless. Let me go.
I stood up inconfidently, shaking on my weak legs, and made uncertain step forward. Two ghosts flickered by me, talking loud. I didn’t get what was happening. What for, in the end? Everything that was to happen, already did.
I walked slowly out of the room, by the way cast a blind glance at the full bottles on the table. I had to bring them to the class, I remembered. Kathe will need reagents and nickel. Nickel, of course. I checked two next shelves for nickel and found nothing.
”Tried to save her, didn’t you?”
I turned. A white ghost floated close to me. I stared at him, uncompreheding, with a box of silver globules in my trembling hand. He took it from me, incredibly tangible for an iltramundane substance. When he put his warm hand around my shoulders, I shivered. He proved to be too live... too human.
I shuddered, suddenly seeing the light.
Doctors, not ghosts. Emergency arrived.
I smiled to him and lowered my eyes, unable to restrain the shaking.
“Cry”, he said. “Cry, if you want, girl! You’ve done a hard work!”
I didn’t understand what he was talking about but obeyed. Final tears burst out like a flood, endless, poisonous. They burnt my cheeks and tasted salty on my tongue. I hid my face in my palms and the teardrops oozed through fingers. They fell and fell, but so powerful over me. They fell and I felt how the darkness recoiled and retreated. She didn’t go, she remained waiting for me to yield, but she already lost her chance to get me.
“Please... Save her!” I moaned, directing to no one in particular and to everyone at the same time. To the doctors, to the angles, to the god, in the end.
“I’m sorry!” he said.
I raised my eyes on him, unwilling to recognize the words. I knew what they meant. But it was impossible. I’ve struggled. I should have won. I couldn’t lose. I couldn’t lose her life.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“We could do nothing! When we arrived she was already half an hour dead!” he shrugged, too indifferent, too calm. A spasm of hatred arose in my heart. I supressed it.
“It’s impossible. I’ve been-“
Sudden comprehension was the same with terror bout. I choked and covered my mouth with a hand.
“Half an hour?”
“Yes”.
I didn’t answer. There was a lone chair in the corner and I sat on it. The wall in front of me didn’t move and I focused my eyes on it, trying to get myself whole again. Lisa’s distorted face with a curved smile and a horrored expression still was around me, laughing inaudible in my ears. Half an hour... I was trying to rescue a dead body. I was struggling with death for her bag.
But I did hear! There was one. Two of them.
Hope. Liar.
For half an hour I asked her to wake up, to breathe and she was already dead. I talked to a corpse. I shared my air with her. I massaged her heart. I was too late.
I’m sorry, Lisa. I can’t revive a dead body. It’s –
Another portion of tears was about to break from my eyes. No, I said to myself. I wasn’t going to be weak anymore for today. I was going to keep on living. I didn’t give up with Lisa. I won’t give up now.
In comparison with Lisa’s my own life seemed not to deserve trying.
“Don’t sit here, dear! Let me take you to the class!” the doctor took my hand. I pushed him away.
I needed to see her. Wrenched and torn she was ugly. Terribly unbeautiful, with such a smile she resembled an alien monster, death itself. I stood over her for some minutes, until two young doctors came to cover her with a sheet. I cast my last glance at Lisa, wishing never to see her again, turned up and walked out of the store-room.
“Where’s Jacob?” I asked the doctor.
“He’s at his way to the hospital now!”
“Is he hurt?” I tried to frown but my face muscles didn’t obey me.
“No, but if we don’t manage with his hysteria there will be problems with his consciousness! The girl was his friend, wasn’t she?”
“His bride!”I whispered. “They were going to get married!”
The doctor didn’t answer anything. Of course, with such a profession he saw thousand people die, and millions people mourn about them. Did he ever think about those who had to stay and bleed with woe? Did he ever think about the lives he saved, though? How will I say? How... will... I?
“Won’t you take me to the hospital, too?” I asked.
”Listen to me, dear! There is always someone to be the badsayer. There is always someone to stay and bear the cross. This time it’s your deal. Don’t give in. Everything will be alright. Now. Go and -” he sighed. “I think you’ve stayed there for too long. The others might be waiting!”
I nodded. I hoped they already knew – no matter how. I hoped I wasn’t the one.
“I’ll manage!” I whispered.
The doctor shook his head.
I remembered every single stair up. I forced myself to make each step, to raise my foot and put it on the next stair. I hardly could control myself, I hardly could make myself act normal. I breathed only when I recalled there must have been air in my lungs. I watched each time I realized my foot missed a stair. There wasn’t too much of stairs, I knew. Three storeys up. Not enough time to regain stregth for the words that twisted in my tongue.
Slowly, like in a night vision, through the dense air I swept open the door and entered the class.
“Where have you been Anne? You’re only for death to send!” Kathe snarled.
I met with her face to face and a retort for distillation fell from her hand.
For death to send.
I laughed.
The fuss around me froze immediately. The teacher stood up, her face alarmed. I bit my lip.
My eyes met with Philip’s. He was as tranquil as ever. If I could lend a little calmness and dignity....
“Well, an accident happened”, I began awkwardly, wishing someone would guess the problem.
My classmates remained silent. Dimah grabbed Kathe’s hand, like if going to defend her from anything dangerous. Alex held a refluxer like a club, ready to fight. Leuce chewed the lipstick on her red lips. Mary and Tany – two inseparate souls – reflected each other in a strained posture.
Now or never.
“Lisa is dead!” I announced.
The silence broke in thousand splinters. They all began to talk synchronously, asking all at once, shouting at each other, screaming. Only eight of them, and so much noise. I couldn’t help giggling. The teacher followed me calmly. There was no need to explain to this experienced woman that my news wasn’t over on this point. Silence did Philip, in his disgusting, unbreakable tranquility. Will he cry once? Will this icy shell ever break with fear, anger, hatred, love in the end? Will he wake up one day?
Won’t it be too late?
“She is smothered!” I whispered noiselessly. “She is murdered!”
This delicate sound was enough. The teacher sobbed and fell on the chair. Alex dropped the refluxer and it splashed with millions of slivers. Daniel missed the chair and fell on the glass crumb. Tany and Mary embraced together and spread tears all over the pale faces. Dimah calmed down Katherinah, writhing in tears. Leuce smiled at me, but there was nothing normal in her exprssion.
Please...
My mission was fulfilled. Now I could go and bleed, left alone. I could now go and surrender to darkness. I’d prefer it two hundred times, than a tiny ray of sunlight in my soul. It was odd to love this life while it greeted us only with pain and death.
May be, Lisa didn’t deserve such a violence – to be brought back – and something more merciful than me, something from above took her, left us mourn.
I still couldn’t understand what life was. What it was done for... Having no answer, I understood that to get it I would have to pay too much, and bless the god, if it would be just my life and my pain...
 
 
Chapter 9
Love after love

We were drifting in a nightmare that wasn’t going to end. From day to day it seemed to grow worse and worse, like we were drowning in insanity and no one could save us. We – I meant all the people who met with Lisa, who loved her, who still remembered her sparkling face and her voice, shining through our lives. We could say millions of sympathy words, millions of condolences... but hardly could express what we felt indeed.
My classmates united in woe, comforting each other. The only person who continued to drift in oblivion, seeing nothing around, was me.
Lisa didn’t depart in that awkward meaning of the word – she remained intact and stubborn in my dreams. She died but continued to appear every night in front of my tired eyes. She watched me with sorrow, as if it was my fault that she had to go when I stayed. Her face said it was unfair. Still, I had other ideas about justice and they never merged with hers. It was unfair to disturb my poor existence that way. I couldn’t keep myself whole. My own madness corroded me from within. I was about to yield and what it would end with – I didn’t want to know. Save all my problems (and I had rather close relations with death), there was Lisa with her pitied face, her tearful eyes and a plea in her broken voice. She didn’t benefit my good sleep.
From being a real friend she turned into a nightmare demon.
May be it was my own memory, just an echo of the events I had participated in. Freud would be the luckiest person to get me treated, to root out every single thought from my mind and pervert it as he liked. Well, I had nothing against Freud. But it would never help.
Being through nightmares too often, I personally didn’t like this new. May be, because it seemed less of a nightmare, more of life where it shouldn’t have been. I recalled Lisa-in-death very well, and - god bless, she forgot somewhere her mockering smile and put on a sincere one. But save the girl, there was another strange thing that no Freud could interpret.
Lisa didn’t talk too much. But the only word she pronounced was enough to reflect on. Beautiful girl, Lisa-in-life, the shining creature with ruthful smile and blue eyes of pity, called the name...It sounded more of a pray, not a firm demand, but it carved scars on my heart.
Philip... Philip...Philip...
She called and disappeared and then he came as if heard her call. He froze motionless on my way and we watched each other bitterly, like saying farewell. That was wrong... wrong... too wrong and too honey to drown in this absinth, wishing it would burn me full.
I didn’t want to think what she needed from Philip, and why she didn’t appear in his nightmares then. It was ridiculous to ask him if she did... I knew somehow I was the only who Lisa didn’t to leave in peace. As for Jacob, he was the luckiest of all – after a short course of drastic drugs he could hardly remember who Lisa was...
“What do you want?” I tried to force out, when Philip-calling session began anew. “Why don’t go and push him?”
She blossomed with the most majestic smile ever possible, shook her head and went on Philipping through my night. It was bringing me down, every word from her lips. The name bothered something in the very depth of mine, something that I locked in my memory and forgot forever. This was a reason why my stomach twisted and overstrained. His name, so much alike with a tender sound of exhaling, tore me in pieces.
Exhaling, that I demanded from the dead.
I controlled myself not to think about it. Lisa and Philip every night were enough to drive me crazy. I couldn’t get used to Philip coming after the call. What he wanted from me, remained even more unclear. May be, I should have asked.
Uhum, and have another course of anti-depression therapy? Again?
Philip in my dreams was spectacular, the same damn beauty thing as in reality. About this fact and how it worked on me I also refused to think.
Actually, I became the main subject of discussing, of course, after poor Jacob, too much worried about. The rumour about me trying to wake up the dead body was on the edge of a Fool’s day trick: some students scolded me, telling they would act more properly and wouldn’t let Lisa die. But most of them were grateful for everything I did for Jake. The doctors said that he was still normal for the only reason – I gave him hope and it tore him from the darkness at the critical moment.
Where is the one who saves me?
My classmates tried not to part, spending the time all together. The clubs, the parties – everything was forgotten, life froze in expectation of the funeral. The police took the body and for a week poor parents couldn’t get any news about the inquest. They demanded to give out the body to bury it, at least.
All the requests were turned down according to the course of the inquest. On the next day after the murder my classmates were summoned for an interrogation. One by one we entered the lecture-hall, where a bald man in mufti asked the same questions. After short identical answers he let go and the asking route repeated again.
That was so before my turn came. There would be a long talk, I knew. But the reality was worse than the worst of my expectations. I spent at the hall two long hours and literally fell out of the doors in Daniel’s hug – my legs didn’t support me.
Detective Scholman wasn’t kind to me. I was his main witness – only I had seen the body in its primary position and could testify about it. I answered, brief and accurate, so that all details, too clear in my head, would help him. He asked millions of questions about the posture, the expression, the scene around me. I remembered the broken test-tube on the table and how Jacob took it when tried to help me. He even asked me what the sink looked like when I vomitted. He didn’t miss a single detail and squeezed the information from me like from a lemon. He listened to my impressions about Lisa’s horror smile and recorded them in his notebook.
Detective Scholman also was honest to me. As long as I didn’t get in his list of suspected he could tell the truth to me, he said. What truth, I wondered, what list of suspected...
I wish I wasn’t the one to know first. I wish I didn’t get it so fast. I wish there was some misunderstanding, some inaccuracy in the evidences. Damn.
Security post and cameras in the main entrance were checked. No outsiders passed by. The side doors were closed for two months already. Since we all changed our street shoes for a special footwear, there were no traces of ground and street dust on the cleanest floor of the store-room. Lisa’s face demonstrated the mixture of horror and smile because she knew him, laughed with him and didn’t at first realize he was killing her.
“He?” I asked.
“The murderer. She knew him quite well!” he explained.
“Quite well?” I asked. “She knew him?”
“Her friend, may be, a known one! A man not too tall, young enough and physically very strong!”
“Cool!” I said not to the point.
Detective Scholman mesmerized me for two long minutes, while I examined his shoe-laces. I forced myself into a thinking process, but didn’t succeed. My mind was drifting elsewhere, leaving me empty-headed and spaced out.
A crowd waited outside the lecture-hall. I walked out of the hall and met face to face with dozens of sparkling eyes – sparkling with anticipation. I had some minute recollecting and then, totally concetrated on the subject, uttered the words.
“Someone smothered Lisa!”
Nobody reacted. I’d expected what a noise would arise, but there was nothing but patient silence. I looked into Leuce’s face and it was not any shocked. I understood I didn’t say it right.
Okay, let’s do another attempt.
“They say Li-“
I couldn’t. It was unfair to make me squeeze out bad news every time. Must have been someone else’s turn. Leuce’s. Philip’s. Not mine. I had never dreamt of a badsayer fame.
“Baby Ann?” Leuce encouraged me in a right direction.
“Alright. No. I mean it’s no good at all. Well, they say. Uhm. Someone of us smothered Lisa. A man, not too tall, young enough and physically very strong!” I quoted. “Spmeone of us!”
It was done. Pairs broke, friends parted so that the boys stayed behind the line. The unannounced verdict was plain: all the boys were quaranteened until the murderer was found. Somehow it became unpopular – to be a boy: the teachers even lowered the points and seized upon them. In any guy around us they saw the killer.
I visited Jacob in hospital. He looked better, although very tired. Fed up with drugs, he contemplated the wall, when I came. My drop in worked well – we found silent support in each other. He didn’t need to confess what he felt. I didn’t need to explain him how much despair stored in my heart. He already knew about my omission. For half an hour inspire air in a dead body – it was a foul’s trick or a last hope.
“Thanks” he said. “I’ve fainted like a boy! I should have made it for her!”
“On the other hand you are still sane. She wouldn’t like you gone mad from understading everything was vain!” I said.
“Are you – going – uhm?”
I smiled. It was secret for no one I had problems with sanity some time ago.
“I keep on fighting!”
His face became gloomy.
“Don’t bother. I’ll succeed!” I smiled and tightened his hand.
We didn’t touch this subject anymore. We tried not to speak about Lisa. The more we talked about her life, the better we remembered how she looked in death.
Thus the week passed. The tension grew stronger and stronger. The inquest didn’t come to a result and the body was finally given to the parents. It seemed the dawn finally came when Lisa’s parents set up the funeral date.
I wished it was raining. I wished there was no sun, shining right into my eyes, burning my pale skin so that the steam raised from it. I wished the skies were gray and mournful. I wished the nature would realize we were attending funeral, not a Rio fest. I wished I had alleged some communicable decease and miss the funeral. I wished... wished and could barely concentrate on what was happening.
The weather was idiotically fine for a day when dozens of people came to grieve about Lisa. The cemetery was full. Students, teachers and friends – we all gathered in groups and waited for the funeral procession. Students in pairs and threes strolled around the graves, speaking under the breath as if trying not to wake those who were now to share the silence with Lisa. These talks rose above the cemetery and flew together in a flood of buzz. Somehow it resembled a hive in the afternoon.
I wished it could be over soon. The buzz carved my ears. The separate words were definable – Lisa, murderer, death, somethered, Jacob... romantic. People were past masters in finding silly romance in deaths. Blood was romantic... she thought about him while the last breath of life left her warm lips for a better place, wah-wah-wah...Well, what would they say if saw Lisa’s face? There was no romance in it – horror! Just horror!
Scolding! Everything around me was just a scold on her memory! A theatrical performance, an amateur drama! This abundance of black, these artificial tears on sleepy faces. Bet two thousand dollars they’d spent the night talking, talking, talking... discussing how odd it was to die so young and beautiful. And the word ‘murderer’ they pronounced with a mysterious grin as if they knew who he was... their romantic killer... the raider in the night... death itself...
What did they know? Why did I hate them for their stupidity? What was my deal?
I weared a black dress. It could be called vulgar but for the long old-womanish cardigan. I hated the dress, Lisa wouldn’t approve of it.
The cardigan covered my naked knees, but the sun burnt through it unmerciully. The bitter sweat flowed down my back and tickled my waist. I sighed and still muffled in the wool. Juls made a hard work trying to persuade me. The best of all she knew how much I hated black.
Nobody dared to talk with me. My situation was special – being neither Lisa’s best friend, nor her relative I still was the closest person to her. First days everybody wanted to know what she looked like in death. When they asked me, I started vomitting and after such delicate hints the interested persons were gone with the wind. Least of all I wanted to detailize Lisa’s horrored face and her posture... and the cyan ribbon on her neck – the trace of the belt. When the first interest passed, I was left in peace, if those incredible ‘i’m-not-watching-you-so-wildly-sorry’ looks could leave someone in peace ever.
My classmates didn’t let me bare this burden alone. They did their best to watch me constantly. Leuce was as inimitable as ever – her sharp tongue stroke down left and right, and her quips could do a favour to Woody Allen.
Leuce was a great weapon when the problem with boys arose. Since all the boys automatically got in the hot list of suspects, we had to decide if we still wanted them around.
“You can do what you want”, Helen, the head girl of the faculty said, “but I hope you’ll demonstrate solidarity with the common opinion”.
It was just a recomendation. We could outcast them – no problem, everybody did the same thing – and compromise with conscience. Otherwise we could listen to our hearts and reject the recomendations.
For me, there was no question.
“We understand everything”, Daniel said, moving in the other end of the long common table in the chemistry laboratory. Alex followed him after a sad hesitation. Dimah, who could never be in time, didn’t even look in our side and took the only vacant place at the boy’s section.
Philip shared his manual with Dimah. Leuce watched him pensively. Mary and Tany didn’t even open the text-book, when the teacher came.
There was no first group anymore. We were just Ann, Kathe, Leuce, Mary and Tany: separate and lone – in front of the teacher’s table, like the limbs of a body... dead and useless. And opposite us – a foe band, as dismal as we were.
It must not have been happening. Kathe was aspiring for Dimah. I saw her sigh and cast spare glances at him. Alex and Dan drifted through the ocean of chemistry on a thin raft of their poor knowledge and were about to sink without our help. Even Philip looked frustrated – his look wandered around the class, touched my face and asked, asked. I wanted to tell him it was not my fault, I was weak - an illegible shadow of that baby Ann who could drink a lot and search for his absinth burning kisses.
I was not the one anymore, but did they have to pay for it?
There was the teacher in the class, but I didn’t care. The situation needed fixing up. Now.
“Why have you sat there?”
“But-”
“Just because others think you should do this, so?” I insisted. “Because someone of the boys is considered to be the murderer. But have you all killed Lisa?”
“What’s going on?” Philip appeared near me. I turned to him.
He grinned.
“I think it’s bullshit – to act like this just because someone wants to show he cares! But what if I don’t care?” I asked.
There were Kathe and Leuce by my side. And they wanted to say what I dared to say. Going against some unwritten rules was fraught with being misunderstood. There would be much more than a misuderstanding, probably full estrangement... did I care, as I said?
“You don’t care if someone of us killed Lisa?” Philip asked.
I opened my mouth to object and closed it. That was exactly what I wanted to say. Even if all the evidences pointed on Alex or Dimah, I would never in my life believe a tiny bit. Even if they confess it in public on the Bible, I would never believe. I don’t care if someone of them killed Lisa just because no one did.
Our looks crossed. If I were that strong he was, I probably would call for him, play with him these enticing games and bet on who wins. But playing with a beast was a fail game beforehand. Philip easily made me feel a complete loser, although I haven’t lost too much of me yet.
But I lost. Wishing it could be a doubt, I still felt my head twisting maniacally when he watched me like that. My heart appeared to be a separate machinery that didn’t need the batteries for working, but a little supply of his look. This green with a slice of ice in it frustrated my mind even more than anybody’s death. It tore me in shreds.
After some unbearable hours in vainless attempts to spread my wings I was ready to admit there was something wrong with my attitude to Philip. It was not hatred – I could barely hate anyone. I lied I didn’t stand his grin, but on and on I found myself desiring it. I liked the way his eyes shined... for me... they burnt me down, hurt me to death... and this death was much more preferable than Lisa’s. Blinks of green on his bronze skin, black snakes of his hair – they tormented my existence; beginning with real life when I met them face to face and ending with my midnight dreams. I passed through Lisa’s calling, twisting from pain,and then my agony was granted with Philip appearing in my sleep. He didn’t act at all, just watched me, while I tried to calm down my heartbeating. That was enough for me – to watch him grin, to hear him breathe, to smell his odour of orange and never dare to touch.
I wished it was someone else, more prosaic, not this bronze god with a copper bangle on his wrist. In the university he was a normal boy, an ordinary one, but for his demonic aura, while in my dreams I couldn’t count him an ordinary person. Much more than that – my goblet of fire with a cream of ice above the cocktail. Sometimes in my dreams the green turned aqua, then violet, then cyan and then it turned green back. There was always a slice of ice, unmolten, sharp.
I wished there appeared a syrup of tenderness in his eyes.
For me. One day. I was ready to drink it down, to get drunk with it and never to wake up...
But there was nothing with Philip for me. I hastened too much with blacklisting him and now was to hold the cup of requital.
He talked rarely to me. Just in common conversations, when anyone of us had to express his view, we sometimes argued or agreed, but he never said this heady spanish ‘yes’... The magic that was between us in first days disappeared, and I would mourn about it, if there was any mourning left in me.
Abruptly I noticed Philip near other classmates. Leuce combed his hair carefully, also in black. Dressed in black trousers and a black shirt Philip was aggravatingly beautiful and tearless, more like a bridegroom. He helped Leuce to keep her balance on the mounds – her varnished pumps didn’t make friends with the narrow paths of the cemetery.
I didn’t envy Leuce – she deserved such a god like Philip. If she could get him, she really deserved...
The coffin was open. Sobbing parents, followed by drugged Jacob, stood near it and accepted the condolences. Friends came closer to watch Lisa last time, shrieked and fainted, boys carried them away, trying not to look in the face of the dead.
When my turn came I was not yet sure about the words. Most of all, I wanted to apologize for not saving Lisa. The guilt of surviver almost broke to the surface. I restrained it.
I couldn’t do it.
“She shined our way. Beauty in its essence. Kindness. Cheerfulness. We will lack it. Nothing in this universe can replace her in our hearts. She was the one I loved truly. She was such a joyful creature, so lively. And her soul was pure-“
Accidentally I cast an absent glance at the coffin and unable to supress it, uttered a shriek and lately locked my mouth with a palm.
Ardent lips, calling grace in perfect smile, eyes watching in the skies with the kindest look and rose blush on her lively cheeks – she was more alive than I ever was. She wore a blue ballroom dress, covered with spangles and pastes. She was a Sleeping Beauty, surrounded by her faithful dwarves. Waiting for a prince on the white horse, ready for the happiest love to come.
And her soul was pure.
There were tears falling down my cheeks, but I didn’t notice. I met with Lisa’s mother glance to glance – she shook and burst in tears, too. Her father held her tight, pressing to his chest, caressing and loving. For a short moment I read everything in their eyes. Even this vision of their daughter – the most beautiful princess in any fairy-tale - would never erase the memory of that mocking horror smile on Lisa’s face – that evil death expression. They remembered even now... and I.... remembered.
Alex took me by my hand and dragged away, by the graves, by the tombs... I followed him, uncomprehending where we were, why we had to go somewhere... There were only three of us in fact, me and Lisa – Lisa dead and Lisa sleeping, two different girls, one soul... everything around me got dim and unclear and I fainted in somebody’s tender embraces.

I was returning to my senses and the voices, whispering around me, became discernible. Mary and Tany tried to induce someone to lay me away. The velvet voice refused and the warm hands held me tight, when I was already too conscious to act by myself.
“Hannah!” the voice called me and I opened my eyes unwillingly, like a replete cat.
If someone scratched my chin, I would purr.
“Hannah! You are alright!” it was Philip, grinning above me. His right hand waved around my shoulder. With the left one he fingered my hair. I liked the scene and the touch. But in a moment two more faces meddled in my idyl – Tany and Mary inquired about my health. I was about to leave Philip’s hug when he attracted me back and chained again. It was his wish and I didn’t object. The feeling of being protected was important for me now, when the boundaries between life and death became degraded. There was nothing to be sure in, but I wanted, wanted to hope...
Philip could be my bastion of certainty. Just if he could stop being what he was... my nightmare demon... my moonlit shadow... my distraction...
We sat on the banch, outside the cemetery. The vision of graves would suffocate me now. Tany and Mary went back to others – the funeral ceremony was far from the end, although there were few people left, able to stand the procedure. The show must go on...
“Did she look like that before?” he abruply leaned over my face.
I kept silence, thinking how far could I go telling him the truth.
“You did get the question” he said.
“I did get”, I nodded.
“And?”
“Dozens of people wish to ask the same question now...there, on the cemetery... why do you think I’ll tell it to you?” I frowned.
His hand pressed my shoulder so that I shrieked from pain. I couldn’t snatch out. And I didn’t want. To lose the heat of his body, the firmness of his muscles under the thin shirt? Am I a full idiot?
“Just be a good girl, Annie!” he whispered in my ear and squeezed my shoulder again.
My bones cracked and I shrieked again.
“You are hurting me!” I uttered a weak protest though tears.
He was a real sadist. Instead of relaxing the grasp, he pressed even stronger.
“Philip!” I pled.
“Just tell me!” He insisted.
“Are you better somehow than anyone of them?” I got angry and though the pain was unbearable I wasn’t the one to surrender.
“Better? Didn’t you say something about demons... some days before? And... be a good girl for me now, Hannah!”
“No!”
“Yes?” he pretended not to hear my answer.
“No! Now let me go!” I shouted.
He set me free so abruptly that I fell down the bench and hurt my knee. I sat on the hot ground and watched a tiny stripe of red appear on my skin. It enlarged and began to bleed. I turned to Philip.
“You are a maniac! A disgusting, gruesome maniac without a heart! More than a demon! A scum!” I hissed.
He grinned again and touched my chin. I shivered and recoiled. How could I long for such a mosnter? Loving bad guys is a psychological problem, I remembered. It means I had a shortage of man’s attention in my childhood...
“I have a heart”, he told me.
“Do you?” I laughed bitterly, returning on the bench.
I didn’t succeed in keeping the distance. He grabbed me back in the hug and put my head on his chest – somewhere, where his heart must have beat.
“And it beats, Hannah! Now tell me about Lisa... what was her face like?”
He didn’t lie – there was a clear sound of heartbeat. Not an echo of mine, not a rare beats of Lisa’s, but a steady rhythm. I chuckled histerically.
“Hannah?”
My shoulder was aware that any minute of delay would cost it dear.
“Don’t hurt me anymore!” I cast a sidelong look upon him. “And don’t promise, you won’t keep it either!”
“True!”
“She was horrored... and smiling. Like if she laughed a lot with a familiar guy and then he simply smothered her... she even didn’t have the time to realize he was killing her! She smiled even when she couldn’t breathe... and when he packed her in the cupboard... and when we found her... and when I made the respiration... respiration... heart massage.... and when she died... she smiled...like if mocking at me... my poor attempts to do a god’s job!”
I stared at him, tearful upon my eyes.
“God’s job?”
“She was already dead when I found her in the cupboard! But how? HOW!? I heard her heartbeat, I found pulse on her neck! She was alive! Her heart beat!!!”
He caressed my hair to cool down. I shivered, the events of that black day were too young in my memory, too fresh... I heard Jacob roar above Lisa’s body, saw him putting back her hand... and even now I could hardly believe in what happened. She was alive. I had my chance. There was a chance. There must have been...
Philip embraced me until I stopped shivering.
“Hannah! Breathe! Just breathe! In! Out! In! Out!”
I laughed.
“You see, what’s fun is that I told her the same damn thing! Breathe! I asked her to breathe when she was already absolutely dead! Breathe, I cried, and she seemed really breathing... slightly as if it was her first attempt to breathe in this life!”
For me, there must also have been a chance when I was bleeding and dying. There was a tiniest chance that someone would save me. Dimah found me, covered with a scab of blood on the perfect blue tile. I didn’t breathe at all, there was no pulse. In fact, that was my choice – I took the glass splinter and cut the threads of my life. But Dimah or who it was above gave me another chance... when I was almost dead. Dimah struggled for me like I struggled for Lisa. Didn’t I ask the god too earnestly?
I didn’t ask him at all. I asked Lisa... Breathe... Breathe...
“I just imagined it all – her pulse, her heartbeat!”
I released from his hug and stood up. The sun shined right into my eyes, but now it was easier to bare everything – the sun, the memories, the failure. Easier hundred times than before. I could go on without a great part of the burden.
“Thanks, Philip! I needed someone to unload!”
“I know” he said “but I hoped I wouldn’t need to hurt you to make you speak!” he chuckled. “Now let her go, Hannah! Until you open your heart and let her go, she will torment your life! Just release her! She died, but her soul wants to be free, too!”
Go, I whispered. I tried my best, I’ve done my most... now go, you have your own way. Don’t torture my dreams, don’t call his name... just let me follow my own path. I am alive... I am free...go... Lisa... I’m sorry... but now I will leave you... I’ll free you... I’m not guilty... you’re not either... go... farewell, Lisa. Please... please...
Farewell, Lisa.
Whatever it was – my illusion or a muttering of the birds around me, perverted wind song or a distant call, but I heard it, feeble and fragile:
“Farewell, Hannah! Fare thee well”
I turned to Philip smiling and triumphant, feeling the familiar itching on my back. I could fly again...
I was alive again...

It was more than a man could give to me. I pressed to him and returned my gratefulness fifty hundred times, kissing him ardently. He didn’t protest and still didn’t yield. My hand went through his hair, down his neck, while my lips lead me straight to hell. That path was pleasant unearthly and I melted, wishing this orange taste on my mouth linger for the rest of my life. In hell, in heaven. No matter...
“Ann!”
I shrunk back, suddenly awake. Philip, surprised, but unmoving, smiled perplexedly either to me or to Leuce who caught us in such an unequivocal position. I felt ashamed – Leuce had plans on Philip when I just had... dreams. I could perfectly live, enjoying my imagined worlds if I dared to imagine anything. Leuce watched us pensively as if thinking whether to leave us go on or interfere. For me there was no questions at all – I could dream about holding him by my side but I would never make a step forward. I was scared of what he was... too dangerous and too enticing.
Let my dreams remain just dreams...
“Sorry, Leuce, we didn’t notice you! Ah... is the ceremony over?”
“Just arrange yourselves, people will leave the cemetery in a minute!” she said.
She was right. When the first students began to walk out the gates we were sitting on the bench – three, academically solemn and, probably, appallingly absurd. Everyone watched us with suspicion as if we were intending something really ellegal. It was Philip generally, any comic could envy his expression. Mixture of silly carelessness and cunning watchfulness attracted surprised looks. I elbowed him in his ribs – he didn’t bother to change the mien. As for Leuce she was checking her manicure - every single finger.
We waited until everyone passed by and the car with Lisa’s parents left the parking. Other classmates joined us earlier. Unexpressed decision to stay and discuss the situation was supported by the absolute majority.
“Just listen to them!” Alex swore. “This first group... do they really regard themselves as the hub of the universe! Hey-hey-hey... Hold their boys like the last hope, these nerd jades! Bla-bla-bla! Let’s show them what concordance is so that these marmosets...”
“Marmosets?” Tany choked. “Did she really say ‘marmosets’?”
“Don’t interrupt him! Tan! An what’s further?”
We all sat on the ground near the bench so that no one was offended. Our improvised conference was more of an indugenuos war council than a twenty first century friendish forum. We only missed a calumet and hallucinating herbs in a campfire.
“And she said that the best decision would be to ignore our company!”
“Well, that’s dreadful. I can’t live without her. I need to be with her, to breathe the same air, to hear her magic words to stay alive. What will happen with me if she ignores me every time?” Leuce burst in tears, loudly sobbing and wiping the snivels with the black sleeve.
We stared at her.
“Well, well, don’t look at me so! I’m simply scoffing! Are they all going to ignore us?” she asked.
Daniel nodded.
The profit of overhearing even in such places as cemetery was obvious. Alex and Dan, strolling around the graves, caught the snatch of a conversation. The head girl of the faculty and Lisa’s best friend planned to blacklist our group. Everyone was ‘recommended’ to disregard us, especially boys, so that we’d understand the first decision to stand for them wasn’t any good for us. Pretty stupid, I thought! Did we really need their attention that much? Did they really think we were going to mourn over them all?
 “Will the teachers follow the recomendations?” Philip asked.
“Ninety percent they won’t. But some impressive persons can make up the rest ten percent!” Mary said.
“I can bet, if the panic doesn’t fade there will be more than ten percent!” Alex shook his head.
I was at lost.
“Do you really think the teachers will specially seize upon us just because we’re still together?”
“Baby Ann, are you a full nerd? Concordance – what they call it! We should have obeyed the recomendations! And teachers... aren’t they already too seizy about us? Why did Joanne drive me out on the pathology class? Why did Savenkova wrote a report upon my unworthy behavior? What have I done, ah?”
I had to agree with everything he said. The problem was to the fore.
“Still I can’t scold too much on them! They are scared!” I said.
Leuce laughed. The laughter was mocking and offensive – only Leuce was able to create such disgusting sounds. We silenced, surprised and displeased. When the laughter became too indecent, Philip clapped Leuce by her shoulder. She stopped laughing and turned away, a little bit ashamed.
“I think she wanted to say that ‘scared’ is not the correct word!” Philip said. “They are not scared! Bet on three lives, they haven’t even a little bit realized what happened. These pompous faces, these solemn words of condolences – they are pretending to play a new game, new roles in an amateur student performance. These stupid black dresses with tall collars, veils on the hair... where have you seen that all? Bet on, watching too much of soap operas doesn’t add you brains! And now, when Lisa’s killed they have to demonstrate their ardent protest! They are scared! Scared that someone cosiders them indifferent and heartless! You see, Hannah!
“They are ready to waste their time on representing us the enemies of the nation! Us! What have we done? If we didn’t protest, they should have found someone else... And when the police finally founds the killer, they will lynch him just because that is what the PUBLIC WANTS THEM! They will forget who Lisa was but still will hate us all! DAMN PEOPLE WITH A TWO-FACED MORALITY!”
We kept silence. He didn’t move but seemed above us all. I’d never heard him speak so fervent. Everything was a complete truth. Being outcast never does good. I friended with the majority of faculty and knew quite well how many people depended on the ‘common opinion’.
‘Common opinion’ was created by a small group of people. Helen – the chief scum of the faculty gave the recommendation we didn’t support. Now we had to face the cosequence.
But if we turned away from each other in difficult times, we all would be in an asshole.
It’s dark and fetid there. It’s going to be a real muck. La mierda!
“Fight?” I asked, no better thought in my head. This one didn’t seem too idiotic.
I directed to Philip because now he was some kind of a leader in war for us.
“With whom?” He said. “With the whole faculty? Teachers? Friends?”
“With the ringleaders?” I said.
“With who?! There are no ringleaders, Annie! There is only a public opinion and I would be the last one to move against this avalanche!”
I looked around, seraching for support.
Surely, today’s not my great date. Philip rules them like a fanatic woman from Stephen King’s “Mist”. My problem-solving skills are extremely reaching zero and from some day they’ll lower beneath zero.
“What do you suggest?” Leuce asked him.
“Just let’s do what they want! Let’s part if they want us to! When the time passes, everything will be easier!”
“No!” I said. “We can’t! How can you suggest this to us? We can’t betray each other in such a moment! We can stand for our friendship now! Why do we have to listen to some nerds that command us like a heap of lunatics? We can’t!”
My classmates didn’t even listen to me – charmed with the certainty in his words, struck with the inevitability of our failure, they were ready to give up fighting before it really began. Sarcastic Leuce, twin sisters Tany and Mary, depressive Alex, retard Daniel, Dimah inseparable with Kathe – they all were almost lost. Their tearfyl eyes, trembling hands... they could easily live without kind teachers and hypocritical friends... why didn’t they even want to try?
“Or... can?” I peeped.
I watched Philip with horror.
What was he – with such a velvet voice and absinthe eyes? How could he charm them like that?
“Are you mad? Leuce! Alex! Katherinah! Why can’t you see he’s pushing you to the precipice? Philip! Why? How could you mesmerize them? How?”
“They aren’t mesmerized. It is their own choice!” he shrugged.
“Leuce, listen to me! He’s trying to separate us! He’s breaking our friendship! He’s a demon!”
I jumped up on my legs and hesitated near Philip.
He watched my furious face for two minutes and then – laughed. Laughed as Leuce laughed before.
I Hate him. I despise him. I wish this guy would never appear in my life. This monster!
He laughed and laughed and I slapped in his humiliating face.
The laughter broke. I turned my back to him and walked slowly away.
“How dare you?” he hissed behind me.
Philip squeezed my shoulders and harshly turned back. I clenched my fists, ready to end his life right here, at best or, if the things went bad, - in a great puddle of blood, mourning for an easy end.
“You are a scum! Why do you do it? Why do you smother everything around us? Why are you so experienced in spoiling everything, Philip? Probably it was you who smothered poor g...”
His eyes. They flashed and went out. I froze unbelieving, looking right in the depth where the last sparkle of hope faded in darkness of green. His hands compressed my wrists in front of his face, his fingers were trembling. I bit my lip...
He set me free and moved back, his teeth gritted. I couldn’t do a movement. The reality twisted around us but it mattered nothing now. I wished I could never say this phrase, because now there wasn’t any way back. He was a murderer and I read it in his eyes too clearly. An I told it loud.
I’ll be the next.
“You! You killed Lisa! Why? You had known her for just a day or less!What had she done to you?”
Leuce was the first one to wake up. She jumped up and stared at me.
“Ann, are you insane? How could he?”
“But he killed her, Leu, he did it! I just know!” I muttered.
“Don’t talk bullshit! Philip isn’t a killer!”
Philip kept silence while Leuce defended his dirty honour in front of six judges. Being a prosecutor was stupid, the verdict was handed out and could not be reversed. Tany and Mary shared Leuce’s side from the very beginning, Alex and Dan watched me like a lab’s rat, going mad from a new drug. Kathe, my faithful, my dear Kathe was the only one to support me.
“But he could!” she suddenly said.
Leuce cast a murdering glance at Kathe.
“He wasn’t in class with everyone in the very time! He came two minutes after Ann went to the store-room. And he was gone ten minutes before!”
The judges turned to Philip.
“I am a man, don’t I have a right for some solitude?”
“Magnificent!” I shouted. “But I met you on my way to the store-room - there’s no boy’s room in that wing! You could easily smother Lisa and then bow and scrape before me!”
Things were obvious for me and the more idiotism was in the situation when I understood that all my witnesses were an empty sound for my classmates. Philip was their god, their queen-mother, their idol for this life. He could drag them to light, he could push them in Abyss – they wouldn’t even notice.
“You are seizy, Ann! I just chose another way to the class!” he didn’t bother to create a decent explanation.
“You are mad, Ann, too self-confident and selfish! When have you decided to present the murderer to the police and benefit on this? Today? Two minutes ago? Two days ago? Now?”
“You are defending him because you’re in love with him!” I cried.
Philip froze, perplexed and confused. Leuce trembled with anger and only god knows what kept her from making me bald. I moved my glance from face to face, searching for support, for a grain of understanding, of trust. I found nothing, but estrangement and malice.
I lost.
I turned away and walked slowly, hoping Kathe would follow me. She didn’t. There was Dimah by her side, her dearest Dimah – and it was too much to lose. There must have been only one loser. I tried this role on and it fitted me.
The friendship we talked too mcuh, we held too dear and saved so carefully, didn’t endure the intrusion from outer world. Fragile as a house of cards it crumbled and scattered in the four winds. It was the only thing to cry about but I had no more tears left.

When the things went wrong in my life I used to come here and watch the sleeping city. I sat on the roof, dangling my feet. It was my method of meditating and although it didn’t bring any smart decisions, it brought soothing for my soul.
It was May, last year. I just had a hard conversation with my psychotherapist. He set me an ultimatum – I had to pass a course of hypnosis or spend some indefinite hours at the asylum. It was unfair – not a normal man in his mind would agree free will to visit psychiatric hospital and stay there. I wasn’t too deranged for such a punishment.
Andrew’s breakup was too hard for me. I didn’t expect I loved him that much to act that foolishly. He was important but I didn’t notice him become vital for me. Was I blind? With love… Blind with love…
Blooded roses – messengers of parting, distorted my memories, woke me up in the night, screaming. I saw myself with these roses, they coiled around me, put out the thorns and cut me. I was bleeding to death every night. Doctors said that the shock was strong so that any nightmare could be the last for me.
I couldn’t fly. The scars on my wrists closed up long and painfully. They bled sometimes, reminding of the tragedy. I came here, on the roof, and observed what the night really was when I wasn’t dreaming. I learnt not to be scared of darkness. Alone, shivering from night cold, I waited for the magic moment when the familiar itching appeared in my hands, the blood rushed through my veins.
This dance of blood was my only hope. I watched my scars heal and waited… waited… And one day I flied again, breathed in the October air, it froze my lungs and covered my body with a thin crust of rime. This coldness was nothing at all for me – freezing my body it, on the contrary, boiled my blood.
Did Andrew know what he had done to me? Probably, he did. The news spread over our university with an incredible speed. If he did, did he enjoy it? However I tried to recall the events of that bloodshed night, my memory saved it like a fire-proof safe, unyielding. Even the sessions of hypnosis helped a little – there were only roses, in a blood puddle, tears flowing down my cheeks and the splinters of the vase I pressed to my chest.
Now, when life tested my sanity again, I came here searching for support. There wasn’t moon above me. It didn’t matter – I had problems with flying last days: firstly Lisa didn’t give me freedom (or I refused to release her?), now Philip was standing on my way. I wasn’t the one surely for a fairy-job – I depended on circs too much. Every single problem and I packed my wings and laid on the very bottom of my soul.
When I heard the steps behind, there was no need to look back. Juls observed me for last days and she easily could find the marks of sorrow on my face. I strolled like a zombie around the house. I spoilt her best dress, created a local fire on our kitchen and flooded the neighbours beneath. It was enough to find out something was wrong with me. In childhood, I would easily confess all my problems to Juls. Nowadays, when she had complicated relations with Michael, I would be a full scum, trying to reload my deal on her.
“You’d better tell me everything at home and don’t make me climb those weak stairs!” she growled and flopped down near me.
“I don’t want you to become my personal shrink! You’re my sister and it’s enough!” I put my head on her knees and smiled.
“Didn’t you think the carrer of a shrink fits me well?”
Bet on she was smiling too. She was almost pleasant to communicate with when she didn’t grumble and scold, but ironized like that. I didn’t answer and for some minutes we watched the black skies above.
I wished I could overhear what about they were talking – Juls and silence. The conversation was vitally important for both and, may be, for one of them a little bit more important... but for which? My sister was a wise girl in a manner when a usual piece of bullshit turns a universal truth. But who could teach me to part seed from weed?
“Do you mourn over Lisa?” she asked.
According to the rules of genre she had to pronounce something more elegiac and figurative. Juls was a great fan of breaking rules. Probably, because she wanted to know nothing of them.
“Do you want to know if I am sad because I mourn? Or just to clear out if I mourn?” I asked.
“Just chose any answer you want!” she decided to play “shrink and patient” game.
“I mourn!”
“Well, if you didn’t choose this one I would report to the police that aliens stole my poor Annie! You are still my favourite nerdie, Ann!”
“Thanks! That’s nice of you, Jully!”
“What’s going on?” she asked straight.
“I think Philip had killed Lisa!” I told her after a short hesitation.
She choked.
“Ah… well… that fantastic irresistable spanish guy that dragged you home after the booze-up at… Lisa’s engagement party?”
“Yes!”
“Damn you! Ann, didn’t you tell this bosh to anyone else?” she asked.
I jumped up and hit her chin by my head. And this girl was my sister!
“Juls? Aliens? Did they take YOU? You’ve met him only once in your life! How can you be so sure I’m telling bosh? Are you hurt? Dear, let’s call for the ambulance! Concussions are curable now.”
“Keep off your sympathy for someone else!” she got angry. “I met Philip and it was enough to see he’s no danger for anyone! He even didn’t know Lisa! What did he kill her for?”
“No danger for anyone!? He’s ruined our friendship! He made my group part so that the girls have to act like they are foes with our boys! He spoilt everything we’ve created for so long! Our friendship, trust, mutual support! And now you tell me he’s no danger! He’s a monster! And he did kill Lisa!”
And before she objected, before she began to haver again, in short I told her everything that happened, from the moment we stayed alone to my disgraceful escape from the cemetery. Her face changed from red to pale, and there appeared horror in her eyes. Finally, she believed me, when I cocluded my narration, saying that no one stood up for me.
“Even Kathe?” she asked.
“Even Kathe!” I nodded.
I was glad all the tears were already shed. I couldn’t cry over my broken dreams. Only with blood…
“He looked so friendly and tender when he brought you that night!” she suddenly muttered.
“And the next day he smothered my friend!” I insisted.
“You see, Ann! He seemed so broken to me, he needed protection, that guy, and I smelled the power in him. I couldn’t resist his calling… It was unbearable! I drowned in his eyes so that the world around me twisted… I was ready to die if he wished me. Ann, please, understand me! He was so close and so hot! It was… I was weak!”
My sister was crying. She choked with tears and spread the snivels over the cheeks. Ashamed she hid her eyes from me. I caressed her hair and whispered some nonsense. She embraced me and put her head on my chest. Well, she wasn’t the only who mistaken about Philip. It wasn’t a great crime either… He decieved everyone around me, he charmed and enticed so that girls and boys lost their heads and went on mad. My own guilt was much more heavy – I knew perfectly what he was and didn’t get the better of myself. I saw the monster in its powers and did nothing to stop him.
“I kissed him! I forgot Michael! Just longed for his kisses, for his touch! If he wanted me I would give in to him! I would, Ann!”
“But you didn’t?” I asked quietly, pretending them together – my unpredictable sister and the monster in a human skin.
“He didn’t want me!” Juls burst in tears again.
I was at lost: she cried upon her undone pleasures or upon undone mistakes?
 “Don’t cry, Jully! I’m no better!” I patted her shoulder.
No better at all. He could look on her with his absinth eyes. I knew quite well how they could seduce. He poured orange taste on her desiring lips and warmed her skin with the angel’s touch. He held her so tight that she could feel herself the queen of universe.
Poor Juls. Poor girl. But tomorrow she will wake up for a new day full of expectations and hopes. She has her beloved Michael and he will return the smile on her lips. Days will pass quickly and she will never remember what it was – Philip’s lure.
As for me, the things won’t be so easy.
I, damn, love him.
But it is too late.
 
Part two
Chapter 1
Moonriver

For everyone there comes a time when ordinary things obtain a new, special meaning. These things suddenly begin to be more than anything else, we need them for survival, for keeping on going. We barely appreciate them when everything is going right, but when the threads of lives entangle and the tissue tears, we hold to these things like to our last hope. They fill our existence with meaning, with aim, with comfort. It would be impossible to survive without them.
For me, such a thing was the wall opposite my armchair.
I spent day after day contemplating it thoughtless, emotionless. I ate only when Juls put the spoon in my hand. I slept only when it was too dark to see anything. I didn’t act, didn’t think about anything. My life was lacking a meaning.
Not that about the wall. With golden roses on the wallpaper, it was full of reason. It seemed somehow important, as if held all the keys to universe’s mysteries. I medidated trying to figure them out, almost on the edge of great discoveries. I watched it nonstop as if one second dictraction would spoil my work totally.
I watched and watched and my empty soul relaxed and rested. The darkness finally conquered me, but it was not the drakness I was so afraid of. It was not in my head, didn’t wrench my brains so that I went mad and suicided. It was in my heart – forced out emotions and hopes, fears and sorrows. There was nothing left in it.
No tears left. No pains. If I made my brains work now, I would be shocked to discover myself as I was. But I didn’t cope with my own denying. I rejected the reality because it hurt me. I gave it up.
May be, it was the first symptom of going mad. But as long as I was not thinking at all, I would never think about suiciding. It was my own mechanism of saving my life. Odd? Well, may be. Stupid? The more of it. But it helped. It worked.
Drifting in nowhere and in my room at the same time I spent days. The moments stretched and cracked, but I barely noticed. I wasted seconds, hours, days and didn’t care.
I’d already lost too much to care about anything else, let it be Time itself.
My friends, my trust, my loving care – that all was gone with the wind of changes. There was nobody left by my side, save Juls. But she had her own problems. Her loveboat with Mike sprung a leak and she tried hard to prevent it from sinking. She was going to be torn between me and Mike, if I let her this sacrifice. I didn’t. I refused any suggestion of help and ordered her not to disturb me ever.
The way I said it didn’t dispose to any objections. She also left me alone, but her invisible support was still around me. And it also helped.
My friends didn’t drop in. They didn’t call and inquire about me. They seemed to inhabit another distant world where no place was for me. I humbled to it. I accepted it. I barely cared. The hurricane could blow away the university and I wouldn’t move a little. Juls said I was selfish. She said there still were people who needed me.
“They can go without me. Easily!” I emphasized the last word.
She had lots to retort. But I already drifted away and didn’t pay attention to her silent growling.
My contemplation didn’t help me with flying. I wasn’t in a right mood to make a step out, not talking about a speeding run. I was afraid to come closer to the window – there was a whole world outside – hurtful, spiteful, dangerous. There was death. While I hibernated it never touched me, I was protected and safe.
I forgot I was able to fly. There was no itching that used to force me up. There was no boiling in my blood, pushing me forward, making me act. My blood race listened to my heart. My heart was silent. My heart was sleeping in a better place, where dreams weren’t usually assosiated with dead girls and murderers.
The moon remained my night companion. It stared at me through the blue curtains, too brave, too mysterious. That was the only thing that dragged me out of the drifting. And it wasn’t a thing I liked too much. It summoned me to wake up and go, approach it. Its luring light fell on my skin, silvered on it, played with my eyes in hide-and-seek and melted on my fingers, leaving a strange feeling of coldness. It froze me and frightened. I recoiled in my armchair for harsh minutes, trying to overcome the weird will to follow the calling.
There was a wound in me. The strength that escaped from my body seemed to nourish the moon. From night to night it grew rounder and rounder, fatter and fatter. And I became weaker, losing life. My sleep became more alive, as if the reality exchanged places with the dream and now the dream became my realty.
Afraid that one day it sucked me in, I lay in my bed and closed my eyes, happy another day had passed by. I was normal. I kept whole.
Of all the deeds I would never ever admit to myself, I was already insane. And this contemplative days and moon-enduring nights didn’t bonify to my mental health. Perhaps, some distand part of me saw it, but it wasn’t too powerful to make me act.
I didn’t know how much time I spent in such an oblivion, but the time came and reality invaded in my existence and claimed its rights.
“If you are going to avoid living for the rest of your days, that’s allright, Anne! I won’t say a word. But there is a guy who is going to turn upside down the house if you don’t let him in!” Jullia’s voice broke through my shell.
At first I didn’t get what she was talking about. Unwilling, I moved my enchanted stare from the wall and turned to the door. Juls smiled to me, for it was her greatest achievement – me watching her, not the wallpapers. Then she touched her lips with a finger conspiratorially and cast a sidelong look in the hall.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“There is a guy who wants to see you!” she said.
“Ask him to drop in later”, I mumbled and returned to contemplating.
“Nope, Anne. He won’t drop in later. You should go now!”
It wasn’t nice of her to pull me out of the armchair that rude. I shrieked, protesting against such a treatment. My sister kicked me and hissed that I deserved it. And the more I’ll get if don’t move my ass to the kitchen.
Arguing was vain and I decided to go and fix up the situation. Left in peace – that’s what I wanted, not a guy who was dying to see my majestic face.
I changed my mind immediately when saw who my intruder was.
“Jake!” I breathed out, surprised and pleased at the same time.
He tore away from Julia’s culinary masterpiece and opened his arms. I fell in them, suddenly feeling how emotional I was. Feeling gladness and joy and happiness – everything at once, I froze on his chest, undecided on whether to weep or laugh. I moaned and chuckled. He patted my back, a little bit awkward with my sounds and then let me go.
“You are no better then me, Anne!” he smiled.
“It doesn’t sound like a compliment!”
I took a chair opposite him and automatically put a slice of the lemon pie on my tongue. Through all the time passed I didn’t notice how pleasant food could be. I screwed up my eyes with pleasure. It was like ambrosia after a long temperance.
“I didn’t mean you an ugly harridan” Jake said sipping tea from a big cup. “I meant I expected to find you tearful, mourning and worn!”
“If you just saw me a minute ago!” I shook my head.
“That’s not the point. When I called you yesterday, your sister said you were in an unmoving condition and was unlikely to come to see me off!”
I passed by the first part and heard only the last one.
“See you off? Are you leaving?”
“Yes, tonight. I wanted to meet you before I go. Somehow important. I -, don’t know why! My mom’s insisted I have to go to Piter, to spend a year or somewhat at my granny’s. There’s a rather precious medical school in there, so why don’t I?” he sighed.
“You don’t look too animated about it, do you?”
“Of course I don’t! Lisa’s dead, still unrevenged, unburied in my heart. Her killer is strolling around you. What if he dares to kill again? Who will stop him? I aspire for revenge most of all in this life. He killed my bride, not a fly on a table!” he howled.
His mother was quite right. No university - no danger. In his strong desire to have the murderer revenged he forgot that he himself was endangered. Well, still I didn’t know any person who would encroach on Jacob’s life in his sobers. Jacob was solid like a rock, not too tall, but strong like a thousand of hungry lions. At first site, he was rather vulnerable, but his friends did know what he was indeed.
The murderer was among our friends. He also knew that getting involved with Jacob wasn’t worth it.
Among our friends. I suddenly understood what it meant. The very core of what it meant. He was my friend. My friend. And he still was around them. Shoot!
“How is it to know that one of your friends is the killer?” Jake asked me.
I stared at him, bewildered.
“A second ago I thought the same damn thing! How do you read my thoughts?”
“Simply I’m thinking of the same!” he smiled.
The smile was more of a pled, than joy. For a while we kept silence, I even set up for another slice, bigger this time to have my mouth busy. The silence was much ashamed, as if we both felt guilty for what happened to us. Jacob hid his look in the cup, examining it empty. I chewed the pie, quite aware it was tasty, but I didn’t feel the taste anymore.
“More tea?” I asked.
“Yeah, please!”
“Wurst?” I stood up. He shook his head and I sighed.
My hands, awoken from oblivion, needed action. My brains needed action. But I couldn’t find out a subject that wasn’t hurtful to think about.
“If we go on to silence the truth, we won’t be any better” Jake said. “I’m no more mourning! I want revenge. I wanted to ask you. If there is an achievement in inquest, will you report me? It’s important for me, Anne!”
“I know, Jake. Of course I will!”
“What about Philip?”
My heart jumped at the sound of the name. I should have managed to restrain my feelings during these weeks. I should have fought it down. But it was there, unchanged, powerful upon me, wrenching my strong will to keep normal. The feelings for him were rather insane themselves.
My sanity, carefully cherished and stored, in a moment crumbled to dust.
“Philip?” I asked. “What’s with him?”
“I heard people saying you’ve charged him!”
I laughed.
“People can create such a bullshit!”
“That’s true. I can hardly pretened this guy killing someone! He’s cool!”
God bless, he didn’t force me to swear. I didn’t think I would let him risk his life, trying to punish the monster. Police was good enough for it, not a twenty-years old boy with chaos in his head. That was why I didn’t mention my suspicion about Philip.
Philip was much more dangerous than Jacob. To begin with, the way he captivated everyone – so that no one saw the reality. No one listened to reasonable things. Even Jacob got under the charms.
Why haven’t I?What was wrong with me?
“I will surely signalize you!” I confirmed.
That was all he wanted from me. I was bound with him by a special chain – linked with death and woe, the vision of Lisa’s body, vain efforts to rescue her and our love to her. Lisa, even dead, bounded us even more than Earth’s bond can. She was always around us, watching, guarding, saving.
Speaking, calling Philip’s name and never letting me to have a decent sleep.
I sighed. She seemed too alive in my dreams, too real. As if I wasn’t dreaming but her ghost visited my nights.
“Don’t you see her in your nightm-, uhmm your dreams?”
He choked with tea, although it wasn’t too hot. I handled him a napkin. He wiped away the amber drops and sipped again. I waited. He got that I wouldn’t let him wriggle out.
“I do!”
“What doesn she want? Does she want?” I demanded.
“She wants – you!”
I thought she wanted Philip, I was about to give out. But I nicked to lock my mouth with a hand and pretended scratching my chin. He mesmerized me, suspicion growing in his look. I faked a smile. He didn’t buy it.
What’s wrong?
Oh, I see.
“Me?!” I exclaimed in a belated confusion.
“You see, you weren’t her best friend. So I can’t understand why she keeps on calling your name throughout my dreams. That’s why I also came, Ann. She doesn’t tell me what she wants. So take care of yourself. Try not to get in troubles!”
“You, Be careful, too” I said.
That was, in fact, everything he came for. After such a warning he finished with his tea, pushed a formal slice of pie in his mouth and began to farewell. I didn’t demonstrate much despair about his departure. He had to go, it was decided and couldn’t be reversed, while I had plenty to think over and may be begin to act, if it wasn’t too late already.
 “I hope you’ll come back one day!” I said when he was indoors.
It was true. I didn’t want to lose one more friend. Lisa was enough to get fed up with death for the rest of my life. I hoped Jacob would heal his wounds and leave his revenge plans behind. I hoped he would find another girlfriend and live happily ever after. There was a continuation for him and Lisa, whatever she wanted and wherever she was, had to step aside and let him breathe.
If she couldn’t do it herself, she should have given a chance to Jake.
And to me.
People all over the Earth could come or go, be born or die. It never mattered. One single life barely counted on scales of universe route. The planet moved on its orbit, eternal and indifferent. We were nothing but moments on the endless line of time. Short moments. But how much in the end a moment can cost! How hard we hold these short moments. People – strange creatures we are, aren’t we?
There is a fantastic show. It must go on.
“Well, that is! Is he gone?” Julia appeared in the hall as I locked the door after Jacob.
I nodded. Gone. Bad word.
“And you?” she asked.
“Me?”
“Where are you?”
It was not a simple question about my location. It was about my condition. I thought it over for a little. Well, I wasn’t sure but I wasn’t drifting anymore. I was standing on the solid ground and there were hives of questions in my head.
“I think I’m here. Right now. Right here! What’s the date?”
“31 of september!” she smiled.
Noooo-pe. Two fortnights. Two fortnights wasted in vain.
 “How do you like the state?”
I huddled up. Not too comfortable. I lacked golden roses in front of my eyes. And silence. At the same time, my body and my limbs, tired of being fixed in the same posture, were rather enthusiastic about extra movements. I bobbed, stretched my body and yawned. My muscles strained and relaxed. The dim in my head fell down and the vision became perfect. I had never seen things so clear and so – unfamiliar. Everything seemed to have changed in the flat but I could hardly explain how.
Confused, I looked around.
“Where have you done the fridge?”
“Oh! Good morning! Now I see you are really back! It’s in repairs!”
“What do we eat?” I wondered.
“Huh. You wanted to ask what I eat? Cereals, of course!”
I winced – what a slush! I tried to recall what she fed me with while I was hibernated. Juls loled and said:
“Well, you didn’t protest!”
I pretended the disgusting slop moving down my throat and grimaced. If I didn’t object, I was really-really bad. Pre-death condition. No. Death-condition.
“Thanks” I murmured.
Perhaps, Julia decided I was enough punished. She promised to drop in to me to check if I was here in an hour and hid in her room. I hesitated near the place where fridge used to be and sighed. No wurst – no life. The general rule of the nature.
The silence from Julia’s room was strange. I listened, my ear pressed to the door. There was an illegible sound, then flowery expression - that was what Julia thought about someone invisible. Then – silence again.
I nicked to tear my ear away and shine out a smile, wider than my ears. Julia rushed out of her room, barely noticed me and locked in the bathroom. I clawed the door.
“What’s going on, Juls?”
“Can’t I have a shower?” she snarled.
“Uhum. Then turn on the water, please, and begin to sing! What’s going on?” I insisted.
The door opened wide and her angry red face appeared close to mine. Her finger with a sharp black-laquered nail pointed in my chest.
“While someone was feigning a faint lady, I’ve had no pleasant times. I’m just drowning in problems and if you instead of weeping could help me a little, that would be more of a sister!”
I waited – that was only a preamble.
“Mike. He wants me to marry him!” – that is ‘amble’ itself.
“Cool!” I said. “That’s – uhm – WHAT? Marry him?”
In case I misheard, I picked at my ears. She nodded.
“Uhmmm. That’s very nice of him!” I said just becasue I had to say something.
“Not a grain, Anne, and you know it! He insists I have to move at his and other things. And children!” her face got so wry that almost flowed down her bones.
Well, I’ve been out of things for too long to grasp with everything in a second.
I understood Julia very well. Her endless parties, not any worse than Leuce’s didn’t dispose to having children. Her very temper didn’t dispose to children, not in her twenty, not in her fourty. Of all the girls, done not for motherhood, she was the most motherhood-prohibited variant. Children themselves caused her a nausea, not to mention nappies, toys scattered over the flat, snivels, cries and sleepless nights. She was too young and too irresponsible for marriage and for children.
Of course, if Mike wanted to bear the burden alone, he could have her wed right tomorrow. If he desired plenty of problems on his head, he could easily get them. Poor Mike. He didn’t know what he got into.
Fortunately, Julia knew. And she was not lucky with the ultimatum Mike announced – they wed or she never sees him again.
If I were Juls I would tell him goodbye.
But Juls loved him. She wanted him nearby. What a role she prepared for Mike, no one could guess. Bet on, she wasn’t going to marry him ever.
“Children. Kitchen. Washing. Sweeping. Laudering. Family vacations. Family dinners. Family doctors. Family sales. Family Hades!” she stamped.
I blinked.
“Excluded!” she said firm and confident.
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is how to explain it to Mike! He’s fond of what he calls it – uh – family values!” she shook imaginary dust from her delicate fingers.
I shrugged.
“You’ll succeed!”
“Of course I will. I don’t know how, yet!” she sighed.
At this point the lyric part was over. She recollected and set about her usual rhythm – rushing, exclaiming, scolding and snarling. I watched her run here and there, getting dressed, pulling on fantastic high-hilled pumps. Several strokes of rouge and mascara on her face – she changed strikingly: a doleful face turned sparkling with cheer. She granted the reflection in the mirror with a carnivorous smile and claimed:
“Hold on, Miky! I’m coming!”
She shut up the door behind without good bye. I sighed. Things around me didn’t get mended while I was spaced out. They got even worse. I didn’t know where the feeling came from, but I blamed all on one person – on Philip. His bad influence oozed through distance and harmed even Jul’s life.
It was weird but I really believed in it.
But the things were going to change now. I woke up. I was alive.

This new life didn’t bring any joy. As soon as I went out of oblivion I got into arms of reality – thorny and hurtful. Suddenly the emotions I hadn’t felt for so long captivated me. I began to grieve about the oblivion I lost, but it was – how it always used to be for me – late.
Everything was following its usual vicious circle. Whatever I did, the past remained unchanged inside me and every time I became too weak to let it out, it conquered me through again. Fighting was vain, but I didn’t want to admit it, going on the old roads to the old ends. No, there wasn’t any end for me but endless repetition. The idea of time helicity gained a special meaning for me.
Lisa lingered near me every night, like if I sustained her existence. Her presence filled my nightmares with strange incompleteness. I owed something to her. What it was, Lisa never told me. She was unlikely to say once. Her presence was torturing me, these tearful eyes, this kind wistful smile. So mothers do smile to their sleeping children. So fathers farewell their grown-up daughters on the wedding day.
Lisa asked neither for revenge, nor for peace. She needed something more from me and according to idiotic rules of genre I had to put on the charade by myself. Not a day passed, I racked my brains over it and found an only prompt. Philip. Lisa told me the name of the murderer and waited for justice.
I hoped it was so. I did everything in my powers: detective Scholman seemed to pay no heed to my words at all. My shady encounter with Philip was an excess paper-working, not a useful witness. I brought all my anger down on him. Even some demolished devices in his room couldn’t move the deal from the dead stop. But after my demonstration the door to his office was closed for me for indefinite period.
Nobody listened to me. While I rushed around, trying to chastise the murderer, he won everybody’s sympathies and here and there I heard spiteful rumours underhand. The old story of my suicide came to light. “Only a loony could suspect Philip in this ferocious crime” they said and labeled me. My status of a chief-insane consolidated from day to day. Speaking to me was equal to diving in a pool of slops, swarming with worms. I heard the talks, different theories about my “going bananas”: beginning with Philip rejected me and ending with Jacob, been my secret lover. Fortunately, Jacob couldn’t hear all this bullshit otherwise we would have to count corpses after his fair vengeance.
First time I tried to overcome this flood of rumours. Understood – it was as vain as asking Lisa what she wanted. Though, everything was quite clear with my former friends: they needed a scapegoat. Not Philip, but someone less... valuable... someone... like me.
This attitude didn’t pain me so much like my classmates treated me. Like I was nothing for them. For all of them. They had a new hero to nanny with – Philip, their undeclared leader, their lodestar. Friendship, love – these two words turned to dust now. I shed tears, hiding in the lady’s room during the breaks. What was love in the end when my best friend chose Dimah that never loved her at all? What was love when people I needed most of all turned away and left me bleeding? What was love in the end, when the only man that held my heart was a murderer, the main reason of my troubles? What was love?
Tears fell and fell without an end. It changed nothing. I perked out of the lady’s room with dry eyes and faked a majestic smile. Have you ever seen a wounded animal, how it asks for a last service? That was me, trying my best to remain steady and calm. I never talked to anyone. I never looked at anyone. I came home and tried to drown in oblivion again, concentrating my look on the golden roses. They didn’t enchant me like before. This way was blocked.
There was only Juls left by my side. But while she fought hard to keep her affair safe she wasn’t any useful. Involving her in my problems would be too much even for such an active organism like my sister.
For my classmates, the show went on. Parties, drinks, tests, teachers, nothing changed. And, god bless, in this meaning my failure wasn’t a failure at all. Having a scapegoat, the students didn’t bother to outcast others. No murderer had to do anything with it. My group remained in the same cast, save me.
I thought that this hard time would leave unerasable remnants on me. But there was no end to this terror. However I detested myself, but I humbled and shut off from the scene around me, never to be hurt again.
When I suddenly understood, I had given up, my mind rebelled. My weakness wasn’t an enough reason to stop fighting. Lisa was just one more reminder about my unfinished business. And when I began to apprehend it like “business”, everything proved to be plain.
I had a plan. It didn’t take me much time to find a crazy decision. Still, as I considered, it didn’t lack some elegance and simplicity.
I needed two days. I hoped the week-end would be enough for the deal. Keeping out the farce that happened on my eyes, was the last thing I could pretend. If they poured all world’s hatred and contempt on me, I would go on anyway. After this decision I felt myself easier.
My turning day began ordinary. In seven thirty a.m. I feigned my usual morning activity, throwing random manuals and notebooks in my sack. I made sandwiches for Juls and watched how she ate. Only her surprised look reminded me that in perfect I had to breakfast too. The sandwich didn’t want to push through my throat, so elated I was. Luckily, Juls didn’t see my table agony. She was searching for her shoes in the wardrobe.
“Are you later today?” she asked from the hall.
“Ah... yes! In nine thirty a. m. I will leave in twenty minutes!” I fibbed.
She nodded and said:
“Cool! I can wait for you! We are a bit late today, too!”
Squat! Juls was a master in breaking any plan, especially when it was headlined ‘no Julia around’. If I told her about my intentions, she would surely stay at home and spoil everything with ease.
She stood in the hall with a right shoe in her hand. The left one was already on. She looked like if she wasn’t going to wait for anyone. She was setting off – now.
Our looks crossed. My - firm and serious, her – furtive and cunning.
“Ok, Anne, just compose something eligible about your headache and stay at home! Don’t keep me for a total blindfold! Is it about Philip and Lisa?”
“No...” I waited until she cast her glance aside. “I just have... a headache!”
She gritted her teeth with anger.
“Skunk!”
“ Wart!” I smiled.
I listnened to her cheerful laughter for some minutes and then closed the door. Her ability to wonder me – wondered me. Could do nothing with surprise when she acted opposite what I’d expected. I had never been so unpredictable – surely, this feature would be useful sometimes.
My plan was suggested by some not at all human brainstorming. Our story was a long chain of events, each of them connected with one leading person. Like characters of a thriller we played our roles and then left the stage. But the movie itself missed one important thing – our scrip was written in unknown languange and there was nobody to translate for us. There must have been someone else who had enough knowledge to explain the play to the actors.
There was only one available person who knew what was happening. Still there were big doubts in her availability. I have never in my life practiced summoning up people. Moreover, fairies.
Not counting telephone and e-mail, of course.
I had neither first, no second. Her unnatural essence could act in my favour. She was a fairy and I... was considered... to be a fairylike creature...
Since I hadn’t any manuals upon the procedure I was content with my own guesses about how it must have looked like. I rejected candles, prayers and other imbecile incantation. After consideration I declined tarot meditation and yoga. A Wind Fairy must be called on the wind, nothing more.
The weather was bright. No little, tiniest cloud in the October sky. No slightest breath of the wind. I should have known. You are supposed to hit the more holes, the more important your business is.
If someone had discovered me now in this position, I would stay in a psychohouse forever. What else could you diagnose a girl shouting a name in the aperture of the hairdryer, but the worst schizophrenia? I hoped the hairdryer would pass for a local wind, unless I would have to wait for winter to get a reliable storm.
“Don’t be too exited! I came just to see if this works!” A gentle voice crawled in my ears.
I shrunk back, meeting face to face with an unknown girl.
“Eva?” I asked.
This girl with all the approximations couldn’t pass for Eva I met before. Eva was a barby blonde with blue eyes; doll-like, angel-faced cute girly with no traces of brain-using on her childish face.
My guest was far from this Hollywood ideal. A boy-cut hair of a red tint blazed on her head. The scattering of freckles made her face too lively and too desiring of pleasures. The only thing was on its legal place - unreal blue eyes with a green border around the pupils. These fantastic eyes watched me with the same perplexion, guessing and wondering. The striking difference between what I wanted to get and what I finally got was surprising.
“Ann!” she recognized me.
So this is she. Well, sometimes it’s nice to be mistaken. Now, for example.
“You chose a strange method of calling for me, Ann!” she said.
“But you came!” I shrugged.
“I came just to see if it works!” she repeated.
There was something wrong with the situation. But it fitted us well, an orange haired Wind fairy and a maniac girl with a working hairdryer. But I didn’t want to give in.
“It worked just because you came!”
“To see if it works!” she insisted.
I turned off the device and confessed conspiratorially:
“It was the only known method for me, in fact!”
She thought it over for a while and laughed.
“You just had to call! My name and nothing more! A fairy has to support another ... one!”
“Aha” I defined “but I am not a fairy”.
“You are considered to be a fairylike creature!”
“Thanks, that’s what I thought it to be. Sort of... what you are but a little bit more...imperfect?” I couldn’t find the word – ‘imperfect’ sounded too offensive. Eva frowned.
“Human, I’d say! More human in all senses!”
Human... that sounded proud... gorgeous.
Eva didn’t seem stupid and useless. Probably, we could make friends with her if she didn’t constantly remind me of our first meeting. She appeared to have caught my wave and tried not to mention anything about that time. She took my place... a place assigned for me... and it wasn’t any unpleasant. Unpleasant was her former intention to wound me with the fact.
“Did you need something – uhm- occult?” she asked.
Cool! She can easily compete with Dimah in exactness of the statements.
“Aha, some secret fairy information!”
“What a mystery! What’s the deal?”
“Demons. I am stepping on the warpath!” I proclaimed.
“Demons? Heh! Hit below the belt, Ann! I’m not sure you’re fairylike enough for this info!”
I was ready to such an answer. I prepared a special “don’t-upset-me-unless-you’ll-have-problems-with-health” look. More dreadful than atomic weapon. At least it seemed so in the mirror. I was really scared.
Not that from Eva. She sighed and watched me bitterly, like the doctor at the incurable cancer.
“It’s live important for me!” I added to the look.
“The problem is that I’m not enough experienced to possess such knowledge... not enough fairy skill!”
Eva looked broken. She wanted to help me, because I had winned her sympathy. Was it the hairdryer?
“Stupid rules!” I roared with anger.
“Noah... it’s the Chief Fairy! She had gone so far that recomended us what to look like. Recommended! Caught it? Not a word upon her psychological problems, Ann, but she’ s quite sure that barby looks is the most perfect beauty in mankind! She dictated us what colour our hair must be! Idiot woman! But when she mentioned something about the advantages of high-hills I got fed up! Just pretend a fairy... flying in slippers! What if I lose one? What a passer-by wants to meet face to face with my slipper? Not literally!”
“So...aren’t you on the proper level for such info?” I stuck to the main subject.
“No” she squeezed out.
Aha, this point of the talk didn’t bring sense to her. If it weren’t so much important for me I would postpone the discussion.
“What do you know?”
“Not much!” she said. “They are our reversed side! If we are good, they are evil!”
I nodded because this was what I understood by myself... excluding this promising ‘if’.
“If?”
“We don’t know what we are!”
These problems with self-identification spoilt life of half of the Earth’s population. Fairies weren’t any difference with other people. The most thankless deal was to get into their closed club problems, so I grimaced indefinitely.
As for me, I didn’t know what I was either. Trying my best to be normal, like all the people around me, I didn’t want to surrender the extraodinary part of my nature. No creature ever would sacrifice its wings for definite ‘characteristics’ in a profile. Not me, actually.
I thought it over while was making tea for Eva. This girl was my striking reflection: her tea-devotion, her sarcastic sense of humour, her anti-recommendations politics, everything was like we were twins parted in the childhood. She sat on the chair, dragged up her legs and watched the amber-coloured liquid poured in her cup. I moved to her Julia’s cooking masterpiece. My sister spent a whole yesterday to cook something special for her beloved Mike but he didn’t come, apologizing ardently on the phone.
Juls considered it another sign that her relationships were almost broken.
I spent the remains of motherwort tincture to cool Juls down. It worked just because I diluted it with spiritus and gave Juls a cupful. God bless, her brain was alcohol resistant. Not that about body. I only had to undress her, put into the bed and wish her senseless body a good night.
For my labour I got a fresh cherrypie.
Eva estimated it at true worth. For two minutes I had been listening to her concentrated slurp.
“Cool!” she concluded after the third slice. “What do you have about demons?”
“My clasmate has all the symptoms! Everyone around him is going mad! I haven’t ever met so many crackpots at a time!”
“What have you forgotten in a booby hatch?”
“Ha-ha-ha! Twelve points go to... Eva! Greetings from Moscow, Europe!” I snarled.
“Okay, sorry! Since we can’t ask Chief Ass, we can find someone more occult than even me! More mystical! Do you have any familiar ghosts?”
I thanked the gods that I lingered a second with a pie otherwise it would get stuck in my throat. A real waste of a high quality product.
“Of course not... Ah... do they exist?”
“Sure they do, like vampires, werewolves, elves and dragons!”
My world was ruined in my sight. Dragons? Elves? No one would make me believe in all this bullshit even if I meet a platoon of elves on my way. Even if my sister marries a dwarf... Even if I discover that my neighbour – nice kind garnny – breeds dragons in her bathroom. Even if a vampire turns me into his kin, I won’t ever believe! I’d better watch a firemountain fall on my skeptic head and bring eternal afterdeath nirvana on it.
“Don’t watch me this odd, Anne! Caught! No mythical creatures! Only ghosts!”
“It’s enough to lose sleep for years! Look at me... can I friend with a ghost?”
It was a rhetorical question. We both lost in thoughts again.
Ghosts could be real for some romantic medieval places, in Scotland, in France, not in Moscow. Moscow could sour down any respectable ghost – this sin city with neon, parties all night through and never-ending music on the streets. Moscow could dish out even Rio. While Rio danced in an infinite carnival from the beggining of its originals, Moscow was the essence of this carnival. The insanity of life. The core of the fest. The city, drown in blood, gold and pleasures... what was Vegas around this? Nothing but a jerkwater village...
If you were valuable enough, she entwined you with her tentacles and invited to participate... And you lost forever.
Lost.
Forever.
“Still” I said, struck with a wild idea “I have one in a view!”

 
Chapter 2
When legends come true

It was midnight. We stole through the park, taking fright at any strange noise. Count on, any sound in this wilderness was strange, we kept on shivering and chattering all the way from the entrance. Eva held me by my hand, not that courageous I’d expected her to be. For my surprised expression, she snarled “If you travelled to such places, where I’d been while working, you wouldn’t be this self-confident”.
No argument: for all my life I preferred to keep off dangerous places. Damned Philip. Damned, damned, damned!
I wasn’t too sure we’d meet the ghost here. Urban legends could always remain only legends, even if thousand Philips needed a retribution.
What were urban legends in the end? Child-scaring bullshit with a predictable end. Millions of vampires in family vaults. Millions of careless drivers waiting for the victims on deserted roads. Millions of mad avengers slaughter the whole university just to have their final speech. Millions of undone souls dwelling in this world, aching for blood and revenge. Millions of Lost Mothers searching for the children in forest-parks.
Does she exist? Will she talk to us either?
“Do you think she exists?”
“I could be sure she didn’t before today! I could be sure in something today! But you came to turn my world upside down!”
“You called me by yourself, Ann!” she remarked.
“I know, but I can’t keep everything whole! It astonishes me! If not say – scares! And this doubtful ghost is my last hope to have a try... to comprehend what’s going on with me... with everyone around me. If she helps us, I will be able to mend damaged, I will return everything back when the things were clear and happy!”
Only now I noticed we were standing right under that famous elm. Due to the legend, Lost Mother must have been hung here. She might be here now. My ardent oration heated me so that even dread shivering didn’t work – all my body refused to be scared.
Eva shook her head.
“This is your greatest mistake, Ann! Things will never be the same again! Even if you fight down your demon, if you redo his evil... ah... even if you go on your old routine – still there will be place for him again. In your heart, in their hearts... and moreover, your friend Lisa, did I get right, she is murdered?”
“Yes”.
“She won’t revive, Ann! She is dead! How are you going to repair hearts that mourn over her? How can you repair your own? Or are you a robot? Are you changing lives like software? If so, I don’t envy you... I don’t understand you”.
“I am human, Eve! I am too human!” I agreed.
Too human to get in love with the demon. My heart didn’t grasp neither what the danger was, nor what a betrayal... for Lisa, for me. It felt and I could only carve it out from my body to stop it feeling. If something happens to Philip... if he dies or hurts... or I hurt him - I will weep. I will grieve. I will grieve anyway, for its the fatal way for me. I will lose anyway. What is the meaning than? To fight? To love?
“So... did she lose her child here in the woods?” Eva asked.
“If the legend is true”, I nodded.
None of us knew how ghosts should be called out. Eva suggested an idiotic ritual: firstly, walk around the elm thrice and draw three circles, then bow to the tree and pronounce some baloney. This is how Indian shamans usually summon, she said. No doubts, shamans (‘badger warts’ by Eva) had plenty of experience in summoning fairies. But it’s a deal for Brilliant Eye or Laughing Owl. Being simply Ann doesn’t suppose you to dance around a campfire and summon anyone.
“Ah, well, Ann, you have to demonstrate the ritual, not carry it out! Just a formality! It works in any case, like with a hairdryer!”
No way, no way. While drawing the circles, I asked:
“What do they bow to in your case?”
“Oh, whatever they find first! I am considered to be rather loyal! A tree, a house, a lonely rock – everything works! If you just knew, how much it maddens me!”
”Then abolish it! Why don’t you?” I stood up and looked at the tree.
It seemed nothing but a tree. And, to all appearances, it didn’t mind if someone had hung on it times ago. Hope, it will like my bowing...
“Just let me concentrate a litle... for proper bowing!”
I bowed once and lingered bending. Eva watched attentively whether something had changed. I bowed again and felt some definite changes – my self-estimate was never going to reach its normal level. Eva burst sniggering behind my back.
“What are you doing here?” a voice asked when I was bending for the last bow.
Immediately I straightened. Eva clapped her hands enthusiastically and turned to me:
“I said it! Curiousity is always number one!”
There was nothing about curiousity before, but I decided not to disappoint her. The voice wasn’t the one we needed – because of its undoubted manliness, and – nothing offensive - oldness.
“What are you doing?” the voice repeated, not too friendly, but threatening.
In a moment Eva was behind my back, frozen with fear. I cocked up my head, trying to reveal the interlocutor – no one was in the air. There was no one but we, two.
“Where is he?” I whispered.
“He?” she quailed. “It’s the tree, Ann!”
The tree, surely. We had to chose more appropriate object for bowing, circling and other bullshit. The tree talking!!! That was beyond my mind.
“Answer me! You, creepy-crawlies! What do you need from me?”
I took heart.
“We are not for you, ah, sorry! We are for the ghost of Mother. Lost Mother!”
The tree... sighed with relief. Hundred times uncertain about my sanity, I heard the tree breathe out air in a slightest expression of relief. Too much for ‘simply Ann’, still not enough for Brilliant Eye.
“Jane? Jane! Come here! These jerks want you!” the tree called.
“Did you hear it? Did it really sigh?” Eva inquired, her voice uneven.
I comforted her on the safe distance from the speaking tree and turned back to it. While the situation was getting out of control, I didn’t sense any danger still. Even the speaking tree seemed harmless at all. The more shock was it to me, when a transluscent head leaned out of the foliage and eye-gimlets stared at me.
I’d never seen such eyes. They were existing and non-existing at the same time. The back side of each eye watched right into the ultramundanity while her look focused on me. With enormous strain of will I stopped the creeps and made a certain step forward.
“Lost Mother?”
“Jane!”she introduced, oozing out of the leaves...
Eva squeacked and began to cross herself. I didn’t mind it, for the answers, ready, clear crystal knowledge was standing in front of me. Knowledge in its purest unearthly beauty. And it enticed me like only skies could before. Did she know what a lust was in every her movement for me? What a seduction scintillated!
“I need a talk!” I siad busily, breaking the magic.
She approached and hung over in the air. Bet on, she was about my age when gave birth to her poor child. Her looks was wailing about youth – the softness of her skin, pallid with lucidity, the spots of blush on her chicks, the reddest red of her passionate lips – a succubus in the lurid light. Pellucid, she nevertheless was flashing with colours of life. I resisted hard to touch her skin and hid my right hand behind the back.
“Talk?” she smiled bitterly. “No one ever came to have a talk with me! You are the f...!”
“Oh, cool!” the familiar plant voice interrupted “I thought they came to bother me again! I am fed up with it! Stupid worms plaguing me with mankind problems! ME!”
“Sorry! Do they... we come too often? What for?”
The tree was puffing angrily and Jane answered:
“From old times people think that a powerful god lives in this trunk! Some centuries ago people used to appeal to him to have their problems off! In fact, they did the same you’ve done some minutes ago!”
“Ritual is a formality!” I remarked.
“Yes!” the tree roared. “But they didn’t let me be! They came and asked and thus day after day! Idiot people! Gods! Spirits! Driades! Who’s the one to create all this bullshit for your species?”
“We all do it by a tiny bit, now and then!” I confessed to my strange friend. This was unlikely to placate him.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up!” I said, not knowing what a reaction would follow.
This laughter could overshout the roar of the starting rocket. Eva fainted and remained peacefully in this position. Prescient of her.
Jane joined the tree and her musical laughter was like a bird chirping.
“You! Can’t! Wake! Me!” the tree bawled. “I am dead!”
Understading there wasn’t a suitable cue for this statement, I kept silence.
“Let’s go!” Jane suddenly took off her place and floated in the woods. It was a personal invitation, so I left Eve and followed her in an instance. While she was easily passing through the trunks and the foliage, I had to force my way through the thicket, cursing an architect who liked “naturalness’so much. I hitched the roots and drove into the twigs. When Jane stopped on the clearing I was seeing nothing, because of the spinning stars in front of my eyes.
“Sorrry for making you run! I can’t keep to your human speed! In this station it’s more comfotable. Please, make yourself at home!”
I sat on the cold ground, hoping the coldness would sooth the heat in my body. The run wasn’t very pleasant. I tucked my right leg – not to show I’d lost my shoe in the forest. Not too proficient of me.
“Is he dead?”
“He is. He’s the same kind of a substance that I am! He had died thousand times ago! Pretend when he was born! Usually people are decieved by his looks, but if you peer at him, you’ll see!”
“He is as transparent as you are, isn’t he?” I understood.
“Yes, his green disguise is a life habit. He lived for so long that after death his spirit was unable to disown the body. Somehow, he is alive, too. But this ‘life’ is kinder to him. People gave up stupid mourning and asking and began to act themselves! That’s a real progress for mankind, he says!”
She smiled to me and asked abruptly what I came for.
“Demons!” I said brief, expecting some special feedback.
Jane, aka Lost Mother, choked. What a human can choke this way – with his whole body in one movement, like a pattern of gauze?
“What do you have about them?”
“I want to know if my classmate is the one and fight him down!” I said.
“What do you know to diagnose him like this? Where do you know from?” she insisted, losing in a moment all her friendliness. “Who are you to come here and ask about such things? What do you know about our world to come and ask?”
“I have my right to get asnwers! Tell me!” I insisted in my turn.
She laughed and there was mockery in the sound. I stood up.
“Listen to me! No matter who I am. No matter how I came to know. If you don’t answer me, I’ll blame every spoilt soul on you. Your eternal guilt will be even harder. So that if he kills someone else, you’ll be the first and only to blame! So – answer me!”
She froze in the air white-lipped, with her mouth opened in a noiseless scream. I lost my chance to be her friend forever. But I still had one to have the answers. Just press a little bit...
“Not only your child’s soul... but dozens of them! Only answers, I don’t want you to do my job!”
“Who, particularly?” she yielded.
I smiled triumphantly and said the name.
“No!” she screamed in terror. “No! Go away! Never pronounce it anymore! Just go away and leave me. Let me be!” and she disappeared.
A silver haze lingered in the air and fell on the ground. I touched blinking sparkles - this was the only that Philip left on his way – ashes and dust.
“Complete idiocy!” Eva dragged out of the bush behind my back, covered with dry leaves and dirt. “This guy of yours is unpopular, I see!”
“Have you heard everything?”
“Aha” she confirmed “this tactics never fails. Every time I feel an important conversation is going to be without me I feign a faint and lie until the deal is over. Hey, today it was quite hard to keep speed with you, girls!”
“I thought you were afraid!” I said.
“Nothing suprising, Anne! You are so decievable!”
It sounded like a compliment, but I doubted whether to get amazed.
Philip’s name had such an unpredicable effect on the ghost that the last chance to discover anything was gone. Not too nice of Jane to leave me in this wilderness.
“Let’s get out of here!” Eve pulled me to the path.
“No, she knows too much, I won’t let her go like this!” I said, squeezing my way through the forest, back to the elm-tree.
It met me with a significant silence. I stood right in front of the trunk, too resolute to be stopped by a plant.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“What have you done to her?” he asked in turn, buzzing with all its foliage.
“I WAS THE FIRST TO ASK! YOU WILL BE THE FIRST TO ANSWER! Or I will saw you off!” I said.
The situation was heating up. The atmosphere seemed to be too passionate for a midnight talk in a desrted place. Eve suddenly walked from behind me and said:
“You can’t refuse anything to a fairy! It’s the law!”
American lawyers would starve without a job here. With a mention of some (hundred per cent, stupid) fairy-cooked law, the ‘expression’ of the elm changed. It stopped buzzing and rustling and froze motionless.
“Fairies?” the familiar head and then the body walked out of the branches.
Eve surely knew when we should lay out the trumps.
“Fairies must know about it by themselves” Jane said.
Least of all I wanted to explain the details. Eve’s face got angry enough to scare a tree that by definition can’t have any neural system. Jane wasn’t any more courageous. My business was only to watch her and ask.
“Philip?” she said pensively, landing near the roots of the elm, just where we stood. “Nobillar? You might be lucky enough to have met with the most dreadful creature in this world. He is more than a simple demon. He is the core of demonicy itself. Its clear incarnation.
“We, ghosts, try our best to reduce our contact with demons. Well, let’s give them the due – demons are not the worst thing in this world – people are. Demons only reveal everything bad that hides in a person. A potential killer begins to kill, because the demon wakes up his worst intentions.
“But not all the demons are strong enough to bring the things out so. They can drill discord and chaos around, but the deepest human’s secrets are not subject to them. The strongest of them can do only. Philip’s ability to reverse good is striking. If I was human, I would run away from him miles and miles.
“I think the core of his nature originated from his childhood – lacking love and care. His mother was a strange woman. A beautiful dancer, she enticed men while dancing flamenco. No guy, whether he was spanish or japanese, could resist her passionate movements, her ardent look. Men fell for her knees, yelling to take their everything, just to meet her again. They all were wrong about her. She could favor with the dance, but her soul was forbidden. No one could ever say she loved him... except Philip’s father, of course.
“He is thought to have bemused her by his coldness. Whatever she was passionate and hot, he was colder than ice. If she was saving her beauty and vehemence for someone who was worth it, his father didn’t have them at all. For this stone man her dance was nothing but a set of movements, her beauty was enough to have her in his bed, her love... didn’t cost a thing.
“But when she gave birth to his son, his attitude changed. Now she was more than a temporary woman, she was the mother of his son. They married without any wed fuss and brought up Philip in Spain... in some meaning only she was the one who brought... even with his impossible sense for his male child, his bussiness was far more important than family. Philip’s mother didn’t get frustrated, her love was higher than these grounded things. She had plenty of free time to keep on dancing and plenty of money to have a pleasant life of a housewife.
“So, the birth of her daughter, Norma, was the greatest surprise in her life. Never hoping to get pregnant again, once she found herself in a toilet bending over the bin in a fit of vomit. Norma was born twelve years after Philip and became the number one love for his mother. Suddenly, Philip’s mother discovered that motherhood was charming and all her unspent tenderness and care she gave to Norma. Philip’s father didn’t change his habits with the birth of the second child and usually visted Spain not oftener than twice a year. Who can now say what Philip thought about it and how he liked this state of affairs?
“The more offensive it was for him to watch that his mother – this indefinite woman, always so remote for him – had inexhaustible supplies of love in her heart, the love that poor Philip could never get. It wasn’t about him, but about his mother, but what a twelve years old boy knew about it? In his sight Norma, this second child got everything that he wouldn’t ever have in this life. Everything that the child needed.
“Philip was hard to venture, but he asked his father to place him in a private boarding school, just not to meet with mother and sister. For seven years he stayed in a respectable school in Sevilla, too far from his mother to visit him often. She used to bring Norma alone and demonstrate her to Philip. Speaking about Norma – thus passed these short visits. Philip breathed out with relief when his mom went away for happy months of peace.
“When his school years passed, nineteen years old boy had to return home to continue his education in Madrid. That was a fatal decision for his mother, that supposed that Philip’s presence could be useful for a little girl. “Norma needs an elder brother” she said to his father. For the first time he got pensive about the relations of the son and the mother.
“Philip didn’t take long to enter the university and begin to attend pharmacy courses in Madrid. He tried hard not to meet with the girl, but his mother did everything possible to make him spend more time with the sister. Poor Philip had to take her to the zoo, to the walks. No, she didn’t listen to his objections, she didn’t care he had to study hard. The center of his mother’s world was Norma, that grew a petty selfish upstart.
“No, Philip’s parents had never noticed that things weren’t so easy around their son. He was considered a sociable, nice young man with good manners and promising future. He was the pride of the faculty and a great friend of hundreds of guys. But it was only a surface of the maelstrom.
“While he was studying in the university, fourteen students were killed, some missing. Fights and quarrels flared up here and there, rivers of tears washed the stairs and halls. In three years the university, this fortress of science, turned into Pompeii, suffocating in death and strife. Who could suspect Philip in all the crimes? The guilty were found and punished, but the crimes didn’t come to an end. Finally, the university was closed and the students assigned to other schools and institutes.
“Everything repeated in the next university where Philip spent some weeks. The dean was killed in a student scuffle, two girls suicided themselves, jumped out of the window. Philip’s father worried about Philip, called him to stay at home for some weeks until the troubles faded away.
“Every day of Philip’s stay at home was a torture for him. Norma, enjoying her mother’s devotion, taunted Philip. She liked her power over him, this severe boy. Philip, already quite aware of what he was indeed, knew that one day he would get fed up.
“He was unlikely to know that it would be so catastrophical. They had supper in a dining room, when one mocking word of Norma, her careless look at Philip, destroyed his patience. Everything demonic that was in him suddenly broke up the shell and burst out, blowing off everything on its way. The energy of the hatred in Philip, the power of a silent wish was so great that even his mother, blinded by love couldn’t resist. This love turned against Norma.
“The woman took a carving knife from the table and twenty two times drove it into her daughter’s flesh. And while the blood flowed away, she watched Norma happily, absolutely mind-absent. Norma bled on the floor, writhing in agony, her screams tore Philip’s heart but he sat silent and motionless, first time in his life understanding what was the cause. Who was the cause.
When suddenly poor mother realized what she had done, Norma was almost dead. And, not able to stand the vision, she thrusted the knife in a twenty third final time.
“Doctors said that if not this final stab, Norma could have a chance to survive. Thus Philip had revenged his pitiful childhood years – each strike for a year. Philip’s mother was placed in an asylum, where she stayed in a special section for wild patients.
“Only once Philip visited her, but doctors would never forget this visit. A pale tousled woman like a medieval witch cried to a beautiful guy: “Demon, you are a demon! Not human! Demon!” She scratched her son’s face with her nails and cursed him to burn in hell. Whatever she wanted to discover in his face, Philip’s expression never changed. Stone-hearted, the doctors whispered, cold-souled.
“His mother’s inflamed mind produced the only reasonable explanation and it was – true like only truth can be. If she just ever knew how strong was demonicity in her son – a curse, total drakness. People died around him, strived and suffered – and every spoilt soul lay on his heart like a layer of ashes. He watched his friends go insane and could do nothing.
“Philip couldn’t stop being what he was.
“You will be cursed till the end of yous days. And there will be no chance for you to escape it! You will bear your cross forever, destroying everything good around you. You will never be happy for there is no one to save you! There is no light against your darkness!” she said, when he went away – left her forever with her hatred and pain.
“In three month she died. But before, sane enough for a reasonable talk she dictated her last will to her husband. She wanted her husband never to come back to Russia. She wanted to be buried near Norma. She wanted her son to burn in hell.
“He was going to fulfil her wish – the plans of suicide spinned in his head. He never wanted to spoil another life. He’d better gave away his. What prevented him from finishing his life with a bullet in his head – knows no one and no one will ever come to know!
“Philip moved to Moscow and entered a medical school. In a flat his father installed a giantic mirror, according to Philip’s mother last will. “I want you” she wrote in a farewell letter, “every time you look in this mirror see what you are. See the darkest evil inside you. And understand that whatever kind you try to be, whatever hypocritical you are, this reflection will always show the nightmare of you, son. And every man that sees you in this mirror will understand what you are, he will see that your soul is wormy and dirty”.
“What does he see in the mirror? Who knows? But, I can tell you, girls, it’s nothing more but a magic part of the fairy tale, because in some detail his mother was completely mistaken. Philip is a demon, but his soul is far from black. He is a kind creature, with loving care inside, with hopes and wishes, with a heart that yearns for comprehension. He is not different than you or me.
“And girls, in any case, no demon in this world is able to kill. They can make people kill if the killing poison is already in a man’s veins. Philip’s mother was a bit of insane, when his demonic nature inspired her to take care of Norma. As for Philip, he can be sullen and strict, but it’s because people can be unfair to him. I think, you know how pitiful people can be when lost and forlorn”.
We didn’t notice Jane got silent. Bet on, Eve imagined the same dismal-eyed child in an empty room, yearning for love, begging for tenderness. Philip... Lost and desolate? How could he be, this savage guy with lips of a deuce? Who taught him to seduce girls?
Jane was an incredible narrator. Her words enchanted us, creating a special atmosphere. Even the tree was silent and sorrowful. The leavage didn’t move at all, although it was rather windy.
“That is what he is, girls. Your dangerous Philip is nothing more dangerous than a poor child! If you dare to come closer to him, you can try to heal his heart and may be... some day... his inner powers won’t be that destroyful!” Jane cocnluded.
“Can he love?” I asked.
Eva choked and stared at me.
“Love?” Jane wondered. “Of course, he can. Why do you ask me?”
But Eva had already understood. She ran up to me, turned face to face and shouted:
“Anna? Are you mad? Are you going a total craze? How can you love him? He’s a demon! You’re a fairy! You can’t love anyone!”
“Why can’t I?” I wondered.
I wished Eva wasn’t taking out my foul linen on public. But she already got her ardor.
“Don’t you know, Anna? A fairy can’t love anybody! See? If you dare to, you’ll lose your wings. Just imagine, you’ll have to spend the rest of your life, grounded! Love is too hurtful for fairies!”
“I am not a fairy!” I reminded.
“You are not!” she said more gently, pity in her eyes. “If you were a fairy, you wouldn’t be able to love at all. It’s some kind of our defense reaction. Things don’t work properly with you. Too many omissions, too many mistakes in your nature. You have wings that you cherish so much... do you want to lose them? Ann... no...”, she pleaded finally.
The feeling of fatality crossed my heart, so if she just had predicted my end. I looked at Jane.
“Surely, you shouldn’t if you are a fairy. But what are you?”
“I don’t know!” I confessed.
“Whatever you are, just do what your heart says you to. Do you really love him?” the elm sounded booming.
“I do”, I said.
Eva sighed and shook her head.
“But he killed my classmate! I should fight and if I can, defeat him! No choice!”
“Fight with him? But you said you love him!” Eva got perplexed.
“Don’t be so stupid. Her heart and her mind don’t sing unisonally! But you forgot, he isn’t a killer!”
“No he is! I am completely sure!”
”You are completely wrong. Remember what your friend said about defense reactions. For demons killing is the same kind of a thing! If you suspect him in a murder, just investigate better. There is someone who did it, not your Philip!” Jane insisted.
I was confused. If not Philip, this sugar boy by Jane, who? Who was hypocritical enough to commit this crime? Who was the betrayer? And what did Lisa want to say by calling his name? Did Philip know who had done it? Philip was an alien among us, before him there were no murders at all. Had he appeared and now all the troubles are sheding on our heads like snow. It was him, it was one hundred percent him.
“He is the one who killed” I said.
Jane shook her head. I couldn’t help considering Philip a murderer. His charisma was that of a brutal killer. I hoped to see him imprisoned, dead, wounded but not around me with this seducing seriousness. Think anything, but I hoped that I’ll be able to forget him in time.
We walked silently through the park, it was cold. Eva muffled in a coat, I wasn’t this thought-out and had to huddle up. The trees were calm and not that dangerous they were before. Jane, luminous like a holographic picture, floated above Eve and from time to time remarked. They seemed to have a mental talk, not too surprising for a company of a fairy and a ghost.
That was nice of Jane to guide us through the tangled paths of the park. We’d stroll for the whole night here, searching for exit. Eve held my hand tight so that I could not follow the road, but drag along. My thoughts were meaningless although I tried to think over the situation. Neither Jane, nor the tree could dispel my doubts about Philip’s guilt.
Lisa was exact in her charge: Philip. None, but this odious guy. None but the guy I loved.
Didn’t I love him because of it?
“Here I will leave you, girls!” Jane stopped near the gates and bid farewell to us.
The more wonder it was to hear her ask us never to come here again.
“That’s not about you! I like you, girls! But every time a human crosses my way, I remember what life was for me. It’s a little bit torturing! But if you become a ghost, you are welcome!”
“No, thanks!” we protested synchronously. The prospect wasn’t very good-looking.
“Ah, Jane!” I called her when she was starting up. “Don’t you want to die?”
“To die?” she asked back, freezing in a half-turn.
“Not be a ghost again. To end the existence. To be released and delivered!” I explained.
“Can you?”
“A little favour for your labours!” I winked.
Unexpectedly she hesitated in indecision. Then she muttered something incomprehensible. And – with a bigger ratio of certainty – said ‘no’. And this ‘no’ was as firm as the Earth ball itself. Shocked with such a verdict, I stared at the place where she lingered before and saw nothing but a silver haze.
Ghosts, unpredictable creatures!
“Ann!” Eva asked when we were out of the park, speeding up for the flight. Well, it was me speeding up. Eva hovered near me. “Could you really deliver her?”
“Aha, it would be easy!” I nodded, soaring higher to the shining moon, looking for the familiar moonlit paths.
The web of the thinest threads caught me in its embraces and Eva fell in it too, laughing merrily. It was a majestic feeling – to have someone similar near who could play my games.
“How?” she cried, diving into the cold air.
“You forgot, rRitual is just a formality. A set of words that mean nothing! I would do it for her! Of course, if no one sees me! Don’t want to prove my name of an idiot!”
We landed in a dark lane near my house, just stole by two nighttime drunkards. With my uneven step after the flight I wasn’t any difference with them and it was funny, too. Eve, a little bit sleepy, but happy that our mission was a success, dragged on after me, decidedly set to a cup of coffee. “Florida hurricanes” she explained “tomorrow’s morning will be a real shoot for me. Don’t want to conk out now, ‘cause I wouldn’t wake up in time!”
This cup of coffee was the least that I could praise her for help.
“Are you sure you don’t want to have a little sleep?” I asked her, hopeful she didn’t have to waste the day because of me.
Instead of the answer she suddenly froze motionless and peered in the darkness. Beeing bad-sighted I couldn’t define what interesting she found in a row of cars in front of my porch. Unseeing, I tried to focus my eyes on the place.
A black figure appeared in the shadow and walked to me. Watching it move, I recalled what used to charm me in him – his idle gait, his smile of a replete cat, the slightest traces of superiority in the eyes. His lips, curved in a mysterious smile, reminded me of the pleasure he could bring.
Times had changed a lot since our last meeting tet-a-tet. I had changed, but somewhat in my heart still mourned for him. Too many nights I’d passed wishing he was near to hold me till the dawn. Too many tears I’d cried.
When there was no hope left, I asked for the last favour – to return the pieces of my broken heart so that I tried to mend it.
Now, watching him approach me in the midnight dark, I lived again through those tears and nights. What had he come for?
I could watch without any nervousness him in philosophy class, listen to him without perverting his words and act like our business was finished and closed. But the night filled our encounter with memories, that could drive crazy evern better than any partings. He reminded me of the old happiness, and it was more than me.
“Hello”, he said.
I wondered how easy he broke the limits of my personal space. He stood in several centimeters from me, warming me with his breath.
“What do you want, Andrew?” I asked, no wish to waste time for small talk.
“Why are you so hostile, Anny? This cross look doesn’t shine up your beautiful eyes. I haven’t seen you for so long. And now, when we met after such a long parting, you are angry for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong to you. While you are so remote, I can’t even come closer to greet you. And I’ve got so much to say”.
Andrew’s voice was my weak point. It was like a hot fur coat and when he talked he seemed to wrap me in it, so that my cool blood warmed up and began to ran faster. My inner ice melted, leaving me a dense syrup in Andrew’s hands, so tender and sweet. Even now, when all the illusions proved to be just illusions, it worked on me. I bought it, bought and even overpayed, soothing under his caressing watch.
The scenery around us didn’t matter at all, so did the past. Things happened, evil and weird, but they didn’t have any power over me again. There was moon in the skies. There were two of us. All the components of a romantic mixture were available and why not? Why don’t try? A little chance to have everything back again...
Dreaming to have the first love repeated, I wasn’t novel at all. But what if...
Andrew was real and familiar. He was here, so close and dear. All the Philips in this world could go to hell with Lisas and best friends that betray and rat out. Why should I have protested when his lips covered my mouth and we shivered in a kiss?
There was nothing, nothing for me!
No pleasure, no passion – nothing remained. There were only insane-coloured roses – yellow, stained with blood; they smelled death and fear. And the tears – crystal drops, diamonds that flowed down my cheeks, fell on my weak hands and mixed up with the blood. It was red, a colour of crimson tide, that only death can paint with. It tickled my fingers as slipped down and turned into streams.
Then the picture rewound backwards – to the moment when the vase was whole (and my heart also). I put a bunch of roses in it and turned to Andrew. He watched me angrily and I couldn’t remember how made him dandered up. I said something. His face got malicious, he waved his hands as if trying to explain something vitally important for me.
My movie was noiseless, and I would pay millions to recall what we said to each other..
As usually between these two scenes there was no connection, no turning episode. It could put everything into place, make the story clear.
It is like a short instance of time that we call ‘present’. A second between past and future that changes our life for ever. Every time we try to figure out what this moment was like and never succeed.
“Sorry”, I said to Andrew.
He had to let me go and now watched with hostility.
“Don’t apologize. The experience of kissing with a log can be useful, too”.
I shrugged. I wasn’t the one to blame. I wanted this kiss but it didn’t work the way I’d expected. Just the usual repetition of old nightmares – even in his presence when he came to try again. Or... didn’t he?
“What have you come here for?” I asked.
“Don’t you see you still mean a whole world for me, Anny? Don’t you notice me at all? The way I want you, I love you, Anny, how can you be this blind?”
And he pressed his lips again, not letting me a chance to object. His hug was steel-like, chain-like so that if I moved a little, his hands would leave me a soup. Andrew was going to drink me out, to chew me but not make me happy. I groaned and he decided it was a sound of joy. Andrew continued the torture with more enthusiasm than before, tearing my lips in pieces.
I wasn’t going to sit it still. An exact kick between his legs was quite enough to teach him think before acting. I shrunk back two meters, breathing heavily with my whole chest. There wasn’t enough air for me and I wondered if my chest was intact.
“Prefer your Spanish murderer, don’t you, Anny?” Andrew straightened.
We met glance to glance. His one was full of hatred, pure, poisonous and so luring. It lured me to scratch out his eyes and leave him bleed. I knew he wasn’t guilty that I suicided, but he at least could not abandon me.
There was more of hatred – threat in his look. I trembled. He danced forward, making me shrink back more. This tactics wasn’t knew – after the dance I would be driven to the wall in all the senses.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to find a retreat.
In fact I turned a deaf ear to the question and had no idea about what he asked. I needed to buy time, to recollect and see if he cools down. But the smile - his grin wasn’t much of being cooled down. I had to take heed, for this beast would attack slap.
“I mean what I’ve said. I saw you and this guy, Nobillar, this smarty, fair head, call it anyway. And you pissed hot when you watched him. Aren’t I right, dear? And what turns out? Your dearest Philip murdered poor Lisa! Did you sleep with him? When did you? Before the event or after? Like a little praise for the deed? Did you?”
I began to understand what he was talking about. I stepped forward, maddened at one thought he involved Lisa in our triangle. She had nothing to do with it, smothered girl between two lions who tore me apart. She was innocent, while none of us three was.
Stop. Slept with Philip?
“Fuf, Andrew? What’s it for you? Do you really care when I slept with him? Is it because you want so much to take his place in my bed? Or is it because you envy him so much? Poor Andrew, lost and denied... Now they have Philip, their superhero. What about me – I choose on my own will who deserves my bed!”
“A whore!”
“Ah, well, a whore? So why have you expected that my service costs you nothing? Why haven’t you paid?” I gibed.
I was sick of the talk, but stood waiting for him to leave first. The last thing was to vomit in his sight.
“Your dearest Lisa... did you watch her die?” he asked back.
Not knowing, he cut my sorepoint. He meant another thing, grosser. He wanted to know if I watched Philip kill Lisa. But the question was asked and nothing could stop me from slaying this serpent.
I attacked him immediately. The first blow shined on his face with a brilliant blush under the eye. The second balanced the symmetry. I wasn’t Anne anymore, but a bruise-making machinery. Andrew was strong and heavy but who cared? He deserved the beating, much more he deserved his tongue to be torn out and attached to the nearest tree as a flag. I was fair, every beat was justified and I would enlist each one in my achievement list.
It was nice to have his beautiful face spoilt. There won’t be more silly girls to believe his snaky words. He fought me down, awkward, because my hands were everywhere, my sharp nails thrusted in his skin, tore his pullover. We fell on the cold pavement. I tugged him by his hair, doing my best to make bald. Or scratch out these pushy eyes.
I came to my senses only when he threw me to the wall and I hurt my spine. It took me minutes to make my breath evened and my heartbeat slowed. I examined my body, trying not to disturb the spine. If not the suspicions of my back broken, I was rather scatheless.
Andrew, on the contrary, was torn. I didn’t harm his health much, but his attractive looks suffered alright from my nails and my fists. Two identical blushes under his eyes, swelled out and turned blue. His lips bled and blood oozed from his nose in a tiny trickle.
The view of my defeated enemy was nice.
“More, dear?” I chuckled. Blurred stars around my head appeared again.
Andrew didn’t dare to come closer.
“I don’t give a damn about the things you say. You can go and rumour about this fudge. But if you say something about Lisa I’ll take care of you, Andrew, and this care won’t be much pleasure. It will be the last thing in your life. I don’t ham up. I’d better have my years imprisoned than hear a single word about Lisa. Caught it?”
“Bitch!” was the answer.
That is love, I sighed. A strange thing indeed.
Unquitting my shelter place, I followed him climb into his car and drive away. Well, it was a real progress for Andrew. Time ago he didn’t have a car.
When the sound of the wheels faded in distance I sighed with relief and felt how exhausted I was.
 
Chapter 3
Old game with new rules

It was half past seven when I woke up with a firm intention to attend classes today. In the bathroom I met Juls. She champed somewhat of ‘morning’, and turned back to the mirror. Her face was covered with toothpaste and smelled chocolate. She would pass her love to chocolate toothpaste throughout whole life, until there is no single tooth left.
The fridge, yesterday evening brought from repair’s, greeted me with empty shelves. I closed it and leaned back on it. No wurst – no life. Haven’t I already told it?
“Julia! Where are your cereals?” I shouted.
“If someone didn’t gad in nights but went shopping, we would have normal food!” she snarled, putting her head out.
“Who says! You don’t eat normal food, do you?”
There was a growl, but she couldn’t argue I was right. Cereals for a waist, exercises for hips and back, swimming-pool for shoulders. No fat and oil.
No life.
I poured out the remainders of cereals in a bowl. Cereals were the second Julia’s devotion. Once a week she went shopping to maintain the supplies of this mixed fodder. Bet on, today she returns with handsful of cereal bags.
As for me, I wouldn’t feed a rat with this sort of ‘food’. While watching the flakes boil and emerge in the bowl, I was preparing myself to a torment that was considered to be meals.
Well, that is what Monday brings to us...
Juls appeared in the kitchen, clean and shining with her white teeth. A quick glance in my potion – she began to laugh. I salted the broth and mixed, stoppling my nose. The smell of oatmeal porridge was a mockery at my nostrils.
“Fuf, Anny! You’ve begun a new life! A healthy breakfast and morning exercises will bring you back to your senses!”
I greeted her with a rotten look. Cheerful, like a young rabbit, she stirred the slush in the plate and put in front of me. I went to the hall to find a clothes-peg for my poor nose. Juls watched the construction on my face with a wild interest, said “Try not to suffocate!” and departed solemnly, all her looks demonstrating she doesn’t know me at all.
The first spoon got stuck in my throat. Tears of real suffocation broke from my eyes and I waved my hands, like a drowning. Move, I ordered mentally, move.
A hard kick into my back helped the poridge fall into my stomach. I turned to Juls, smiling thankfully. With her mission fulfiled Juls left me alone with the plateful of porridge. I wasn’t going to cope with it alone. I wasn’t.
But I did. Spoon after spoon I swallowed the porridge, trying not to feel the taste with my gustatory receptors. My stomach rebelled because instead of the wurst it got slippery nubbins of muck. It could live through, I decided. Not that about me. After such a breakfast I was going to be angry through the entire day... until I have something more illegible for the dinner.
Half of the plate was shared with a lavatory pan: it wasn’t too scrupulous about the thing it got. I polished the plate till it glittered so that no memory of the slush was left. Now, I had a chance to survive for two hours. My stomach didn’t agree with this state of affairs. Its thunderous roar sounded in the empty flat like a bass-guitar.
“Drop dead!” I snarled to it.
My classmates weren’t too wrong, in the end. Only a craze can begin the morning with talking to an inner organ. Moreover, this inner organ refused to obey my commands. What do I have my brains for? Isn’t it their function to rule my body?
I darted out on the balcony to check the weather and leaned out. The rush of the wind almost tore off the skin from my face. Right in my sight a big firm trunk fractured. A passer-by woman nicked to jump away the falling crest and ran under the porch.
The panes trembled and peeped in the last agony. Poor pigeons couldn’t fight with the storm and like bluish grey fluffs tossed in the air. A rush of the wind flung a white-winged dove into somebody’s window. The poor creature broke the glass and, blooded, fell on the window-sill. Mechanically, I put out my hand and caught another pigeon in my fist before it met face to face with my window-glass. The bird went on shivering and fluttering until I warmed it up on my chest. Soft thing.
Don’t get afraid. It’s over.
“Easy, easy, bird!” I careessed its feathers. “Don’t fuss, unless you’ll be no better than your poor friend!”
I wrapped the shivering bird in an old plaid and put this artificial nest on my pillow.
“If you wait, I’ll bring you some...f... !”
A strange idea stroke my brain.
Surely, the pigeon was far from a rat. It pecked the cereals I offered and even hinted at another portion. No, I shrugged, Juls will blame me for idle waste of a high-quality product. Of course, may be she comes out to prove her kindness and gives you on her own will... But it’s when the hell turns cold.
The bird became sad and turned away. Fuf, I added, you can take the insult if you like. But when the weather improves I’ll set you free and – bye-bye.
This prospect was two-sided. On one side, the bird could easily get used to being fed and wouldn’t like to be free anymore. In this case, I would have to take care of it until I die. On the other side, nobody abolished the call of freedom. And instinct.
“Are you a boy?” I asked, wondering how I can check the fact.
The bird seemed to be as confused with the question as I was. Little eye-beads popped up at me and rotated chaotically in the orbits. Is it a normal reaction?
“Are you a girl?”
This time the reaction was a little bit more intelligent. The bird didn’t make the same wild face but stared at me without any involuntary movements. A girl, I decided.
“Passport data?” I joked.
The response silence was obvious. It was a real progress. Firstly, my stomach. Then – the bird. I just need to talk to a human to be normal again.
I took out the cell-phone. Eight fifteen. If I speed up to the velocity of light, I’ll be in time for the first class.
But what if?..
I spent the whole night trying to solve my basic problem. If I did believe Jane (and I didn’t have any reasons not to believe) I should have make it up with Philip again. But if I didn’t believe Jane I should have gone digging on and find out what prevented me from sweet-hearting with the guy. This was not about my emotions anymore but my light mind. I could seventy three times dislike him and detest myself for falling for him, but I should have given due. Whether he killed, whether he not.
Juls advised me to listen to my heart. Millions of blockbuster heroines got such a counsel and what? In the turning moment all of them acted like brainless jerks. Heart was made for beating, not for thinking. I didn’t share this idea with Julia, unwilling to be enlisted crazy again.
The night was gone and I still didn’t come to a proper decision.
Sink or swim?
My fingers, cold like fridge shelves, dialed eleven numbers on the phone. The toots were like the knocks in the closed door. No one knew what was hidden behind in. I ventured to test my fate, to open it and to discover what it was – gold or plague. Even the emptiness would suffice my curiosity.
“Si?” familiar voice breathed into the phone.
Bewilderment in the air.
“It’s Baby Ann!” I said.
“Hannah!” he seemed to correct me.
“Aha!” I answered, suddenly forgot what I wanted to say.
These charming intonations, this feeling of his closeness although he was away from me – it all enchanted me, melted so that my brains so useful before became a fluid syrup and flowed in Nowhere.
“What do you want, Hannah?” he helped me.
Think, Ann, think. Try to concentrate.
“I. Want. Fuf? What do I want?” I got totally lost.
“Can I help you?” he wondered.
“Si” I recollected. “Would give me a lift to the university?”
That’s it. The die is cast.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the answer. The door in normal life, with unknown treasures, was almost open or closed forever. I rendered the right to decide upon it to Philip. It was an examination for him, not for me.
A demon. A man.
A murderer. An innocent.
A poor child. A seducer.
A dream. A nightmare.
The silence in the phone was stretching miles and miles. The wind outside raged and tore the trees in shreds. Nature seemed to go bananas – destroying everything she had been creating for eras. And only people – these little stupid creatures dared to challenge her. They danced on the pavement, dodging from the biting wind, scolded and cursed out, but – moved forward. Nature, winds, floods, snows mean nothing in the end, when life goes on. I watched people hurry up to live, to exist, each step equal to a little battle winned.
A couple stood under the rushes and kissed. So ardent and vivid the kisses were, that they seemed an indestructible rock in the eye of the storm. Their love was so obvious that I turned away from the window.
The cell. I still had the cell in my hand.
“Philip” I called.
“Yes, I will give you a lift”, he said hollowly.
“Thanks” I said.
“In twenty minutes I’ll be near your porch” he said.
I turned off the cell. The couple in the window stopped kissing. The boy moved the girl away. Another character appeared on the stage. Thus they stood in a regular triangle. A girl. A boy. A girl. Each one too lonesome in this wind madness.
The new girl approached the boy, slapped in his face and walked away, solemn, like a queen on the reception. The boy rushed for her. On his half way he glanced back – his girlfriend, misunderstanding, shifted her gaze from newcomer to the boy. Then, as majestic as the first girl, she disappeared in the porch.
The boy waited for some minutes and walked away.
Madness of life, I enraged. These pictures in front of my eyes were nothing but pieces of a puzzle. Some unknown supervisor laid them out in a random sequence. I was to put them in a right order, to see the whole scene. Like if it could change anything! I got used to watching life outside of it, like a spectactor in an empty cinema. But now, someone invited me to participate in the movie, still not offering me any proper script to follow. Or did he think I could write my own? Who was he, who distributed roles?
I should find my own movie in the bill. There must be a movie for me, the one that I already participate in. Lisa’s death, the meeting with Philip – it all seemed a unplanned fortuity. Even my existence in the universe was a fortuity, like if someone above forgot to enlist me.
But... if I am not a movie... am I an ad?
Things moved in a carousel, but didn’t touch my life. Dead. From the very beginning I was dead to the world. Trying to fight with the reality I just fouled up a routine order of life, but changed nothing for myself.
There wasn’t a place for me. There wasn’t a role for me. There wasn’t a chance.
But I was. I am! Here! Not anywhere else, but here! And I exist. No matter who decided it upon my fate, I was dwelling in this world, forgotten but still existing. I could feel, could act. Even love, the biggest feeling ever possible, was given to me. Everything... but life.
Abruptly a telephone call pulled me out of the thoughts back to my flat.
“Hannah?” sweet voice didn’t agree with my indignation moods “I am waiting for you”.
Philip. He destroyed my theory standing. If I wasn’t considered to be, who cared to give Philip to me? Of all the mysteries, that floated around us in the air, I snatched out this only: love to such a guy who brought too many doubts along. But if someone cared about me a little, why did he then sowed so many troubles on my way to happiness? To make me stronger... To make me a fighter?
Many questions – no answers. It’s healthless.
Philip’s gorgeous car waited right opposite my porch. Philip opened the front door for me, when I walked out of the porch. I dove in the salon, pressing my bag to the chest, not willing to give it to the wind. Philip closed the door with a visible strain and sat near me on the driver’s sit.
And turned to me, his eyes full of a demand.
“Don’t look at me so, Philip!” I made a wry face. “I will apologize in front of everyone if you want me to. Somehow, don’t ask me how, I won’t tell you anyway, I’ve discovered that you are not guilty in Lisa’s murder. But – no more bullshit of being insane and other things – I am quite aware that your harmful influence is obvious in the situation. And I think, that if you made it so far, that Lisa was killed, you just have to help me to reason out the situation, before the things get spoilt again. More spoilt than before. I don’t know who the murderer is and surely, I am not that a fan of yours like the most in the university now. And don’t smile, I don’t envy you a little. Nevertheless you are the last person I wanted for this favour and ... stop! What am I talking about? Favour? I think, I am completely sure, that you owe this little thing to me because now I’m the suffering side. You are the only for the moment who I can ask for help. If you feel a little bit normal, not a total demon, you will help me with it!”
Fuf. The speech was quite an impromptu. Not that colourful it could be from a sheet, but rather hearted.
“It sounds like a blackmail!” he answered without usual grin.
“No. No blackmailing at all. You can count it anything you like. I just tell you that I have lots of information!”
“Why don’t use it against me? You are the suffering side!” he insisted.
I looked attentively in his eyes. He didn’t protest against the statement about demons. Jane didn’t lie. My feelins didn’t lie.
Philip percieved the whole monologue deadpan, like I was talking to the weather screen. Only his absinthe eyes, alcohol of highest degree, changed their colour from darkest green to the turquoise colour.
“I like you, Philip” I confessed.
The more surprise it was, when he didn’t believe.
“And if true?”
I sighed. Instead of moving forward, driving to the unversity to begin investigating the murder, we remained in the car and grasped our relations. It was a waste of time, nothing more, but his closeness was so pleasant and so soothing for my heart, that I betrayed Lisa and betrayed justice for seconds of being with him.
Truth.What did he want from me? To tell him the things he believed were truth. But what if they are a lie? What if he decieves himself? I told him the truth already – I liked him. Not too much of truth, but not a single grain of lie. And he didn’t believe. Now he wanted a lie he believes in. Well, he can have it.
 “If true, no one will believe me, Philip. I don’t want to spend the rest of my lifetime in the loony bin!”
“Only an idiot can think you a loony!” he remarked.
“There are plenty of idiots around me then. Don’t mind this, Philip! I don’t mind it!” I shrugged.
“And” I added after some consideration “I think in a pair we can do more than discretely!”
“What do you know about me?” he asked, stuck to his favourite subject.
“Everything”.
“In particular?”
“Everything”, I repeated, not understanding what’s wrong with this answer.
“You went on nosing around my business, didn’t you?”
I disliked the aggresiveness in his tone.
So I poked my finger in his chest and gave out:
“Did you really think that I’d let it be? I should have fought with you, brought you to revenge! Of course, I did some investigation to know what I have encountered with. Demons, deaths, evil and so on”.
“Where did you get this bullshit about demonicity?”
I frowned. The things weren’t so easy they seemed at first site. Suddenly this odious guy remembered that he had to make a face. It won’t work, dear! I’m not just a little girl, but a little girl with a certain grain of knowledge. So that now I can play the old game with new rules. Mine. Either we’ll play the way I like, or I won’t participate in this farce anymore.
“Philip. I was upright to you. And if you want to go on like before, drowning in lies and disdain, so please... tastes differ. But what wonders... haven’t you ever wanted to speak out everything to lighten your own burden? Haven’t you ever wanted anyone to be around you to help you with the things?”
He didn’t answer.
“Sorry, Philip, but I can’t help you if you don’t ask. And I can’t cooperate with you if you don’t tell me the truth!”
The lie that I believe in, I had to specify.
I turned the handle and opened the door. The wind tried to snatch it out , but I held it with my last strength. Philip’s face was gloomy and nonchalant. I didn’t have any gift of persuasion. But Philip should have listened to the arguments of his own good sense. None of us did succeed.
I walked to the porch slowly, under the beating wind, when Philip’s hands suddenly wound round my shoulders. He hid his face in my hair, warming my neck with breath.
I froze, shivering. It was not the coldness. The shivers were born inside of me, somewhere deep within and reached the surface - thorny and venomous.
“Please”, he begged, “please, help me if you can. Please”.
I turned over in his embraces and immersed in his eyes. Absinth hot with icebergs in the sea, they observed me with kindness and tenderness. These eyes belonged to a man whom I loved, not to the beast who grinned out of this envelope. Philip was my endless mystery – a beast in the guise of a child, a child in the guise of a beast?
His lips were unusually cold. I warmed them with my kiss, a little bit shy to display initiative. But I didn’t see another way to bring back the smile to his face, even if it would be miserable grin. He appeared to like this method too, for the initiative – this priceless talent of courages people – passed to him very quickly. A moment, and it was he who kissed me, leaning on the porch door. The door was rather cold and I protested when he pressed me to it too tight.
Therefore he grabbed me underarm and pushed into the back sit. I didn’t even object when he fell on me and closed the door.
Life went on its usual way. Repetition. Deja vu. Whatever you call it, I have a real sense for cars. A leather-odoured salon and I’m losing my head.
With Philip, losing anything was quite nice.
Especially when he didn’t say a word, but burnt in desire. I was a respectable girl. The kiss was enough.... enough...
No, it wasn’t, I understood. And I wasn’t that girl I wanted myself to be. I wanted more from him.
The brains turned off and I pressed him closer to sense his desire. When our movements became too obscene, he – of course it was he who still saved the remains of mass in his brainpan – moved away and jumped out of the car.
I couldn’t help laughing. The situation was ridiculous: we, two snotty teenagers, shied like if saw the naked bodies at first time. Well, what would happen to us if we really saw each other naked?
Philip took the driver’s place. I was still laughing.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“I just imagined us seeing each other naked!”
He burst out laughing, too.
“We are going bananas together!” he said. “When things must be thought over seriously, we act like two quails in a mating season! I can’t do nothing with myself!”
“Neither can I” I confessed.
I liked the way things became. We talked like grown ups, that can discuss such intimate problems with each other. I wanted to get to the front sit but he shook his head.
“Please, Hannah, stay in your place. Let’s postpone these excesses for the evening!”
He had such a dolorous face that I began to laugh again. In a moment he joined me. Then he held out his hand and asked:
“Peace?”
“Peace!” I agreed and we shook hands, like gangsters from a movie.
“So, if we want to discover who the murderer is, I think, we should have a short interrogation!”
“Interrogation?” I asked.
He didn’t answer but took out his cell-phone. I strained, wondering who he wanted to attach to our inquest.
“Good morning, Leuce!” the betrayer cooed in the tube. “Tell everyone, that the classes are cancelled for today. No, I’m waiting for everyone at ten am at mine! Okay! See you!”
As brief as ever, he turned off the connection and looked at me. I didn’t think the idea to involve others on the business was quite smart. It was awful, that’s what I thought. Leuce will give every single secret away till the entire faculty knows the details. Alex and Dan will be no useful, but take place and air. Kathe with her Dimah will sit during the work and watch devotedly in each other’s eyes. A team of nerds.
“Does Leuce visit you often?” I snarled. Bet on, Leuce is now floating on the air, glad for the chance to see the lion in his den.
“No, she doesn’t. She had never been to mine. But if you mean I didn’t tell her the address, I am not mistaken about her. She’s a walking guide upon the bawdy places of Moscow”.
“Yours is a bawdy place, isn’t it?” I squinted.
“Isn’t it?” he echoed.
I recalled the decor of his bachelor apartment. If not count it was uninhabited, it could hardly pass for a bawdy place. Philip overestimated his ominousity.
“Yes” I smiled to my own thoughts.
When we got stuck in the traffic jam, Philip permitted me to take the front sit, if I didn’t bother him with my ‘femme tricks”. I asked a ransom for my being a good girl. He allowed me to take anything I’d find in a glove box.
There was a clutter in it. A pile of different things mixed in chaos and nothing good among it. Philip stole a derisive glance at me, but kept numb. Okay, let’s see.
The first thing that chanced me on was a package of condoms. I demonstrated it to the driver.
“You can have it if you want!” he agreed.
“Nooope! You won’t get off with it! It’s not a good price for my good behavior!”
“I’m beginning to worry that I’ll have to give you the whole car for it!” he complained.
“A car?” I went on digging in the glove box.
Matchbox, chewing gum, playing-cards, half eaten Snickers, that I swallowed immediately. A purse that I was about to privatize. After a short hand-to-hand party he took it away from me and hid in the pocket. I found the watch. It didn’t work. A pile of credit cards, all under his name, followed the watch, no use without the pin-code.
A cell-phone battery, keys from unknown doors, i-pod..
The playlist can tell many interesting things about the owner of the player.
Fuf, in my case it was empty. I returned it to the heap of things I rejected and observed the results of a rummage. There were two piles, no, in fact there was the only pile – things that didn’t suffice me at all. There was only a package of condoms in the second pile. I returned everything in the glovebox, trying to organize it into a semblance of order.
“The variant with the car isn’t that bad!” I smiled to the weather screen, aware that Philip saw my grimace in the mirror.
“No, Hannah!” he refused.
I shed a couple of tears to stir the pity of his solid heart.
“NO!” he shouted in a sham fury.
“So let’s consider our bargain abolished!”
Until he interfered my treacherous plans, I leaned to him and pressed lips to the vein on his neck. It twitched and Philip wrung out the wheel in abrupt spasm. I took my place, like nothing had happened.
“You are playing with fire!” he warned me through his teeth clenched.
“What can you give me for being a good girl?” I insisted.
“Okay, you’ve winned, Hannah! What do you want?”
Aha, I jumped triumphantly. That’s what I wanted to hear from the very beginning. He wasn’t a good player in my new game, because this time it was he who didn’t know the rules. Moreover, I wasn’t the one either.
But I, at least, knew that they were now – these new rules.
“A decent meal. With a decent bit of meat and a decent portion of garnish!”
He thought it over and nodded.
“I’ve expected something like that!”
“Really?”
“Aha, you act this wild only if you are drunk!” he bent a finger “Or if you are hungry!” he bent the second.
“And when I’m sleepy! And when I’m crazy! And always!” I bent the rest of his fingers, took the fist and threatened myself.
He laughed.
It was unbelievably easy to laugh with him. He seemed my old friend, a companion in my games and hiking. A boy with which I went to the school my first time, holding his hand tightly while presenting a bunch of flowers to the first teacher. I was about to remember how we both feigned a fever in the test day. How we missed the classes, eating ice cream on the quay and hid from the director. I justified him in the director’s office for his smoking behind the school. And he asked my shy friend for a dance. Than we stayed at mine for a night and I confessed that I kissed my classmate. In his turn he whispered, hiding under my blanket, that his first sex wasn’t that gorgeus he’d expected. And when I wondered when he had time for it, we laughed and laughed...
It could have happened, but didn’t.
Let a fairy-tale be just fairy-tale.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Girls have prerogative to ask this idiot question!” I fanned off.
“But still?”
“What would it be like if we were childhood friends?”
“Bless the god we are not!” he said seriously.
I liked the idea and could never understand why he gave it a hostile reception.
He parked his car in a block from his house, because it was the only free place. The rest of the way I made safely protected by his parka, hiding under Philip’s shoulder. He met face to face with the wind, like an ancient warrior, without any visible effort. But when we fell in the porch, he was breathing heavily.
“Poor Philly!” I caressed his hair.
He gave me a kiss in my forehead and pushed to the lift.
In his flat I ignored the slippers and rushed to the mirror to check the reflection. Nothing was wrong with me. Either it showed only demonicity, or I was none of a fairy. I spinned in front of it, Philip observed my figures from the kitchen. Then I dragged him to the mirror and fixed in the middle of the hall so that he reflected in it fully.
We both stared in the smooth surface.
The legend lied. The mirror wasn’t any difference with millions of mirrors. It reflected nothing but the shell where the souls stored. A slow smile moved apart Philip’s lips. I smiled too and took his hand in a gesture of concern.
In the point, where our joined hands reflected, the mirror cracked. The sparkling splinters rained on the floor. One of them pierced into my foot through the sock. I shrieked and shrunk back while Philip watched the fall like a mesmerized rabbit. The splinters seemed to be endless, breaking off the mirror in little bits. I dragged Philip from it and shouted:
“Are you mad, Philip? Are you going to suicide? Don’t involve me in this!”
It took him some minutes to return to reality. All these minutes I rushed around him in frantic anger and remonstrance.
“I’ll bring you the bandage!” he stood up, but I stopped him.
“I don’t want you to stroll over the hall covered with beaten glass in such a condidtion. Do you have a broom?”
I swept away the splinters, dancing on them lubberly – the cut foot hurt and bled. A bloody pattern indicated my movements.
“Where is your celebrated bandage?”
Philip fixed me on the sofa and took off my sock. It was rather funny – a concentrated boy with a variegated sock. There were green dinosaurs on the heels. He cleaned my cut with peroxide and took out a bottle with iodine solution. I winced and twitched my leg in a protest. Unpaying attention, he continued execution even when I wailed and pushed him away. He resisted.
When the torment was over, he filliped the tip of my nose.
“You deserved your breakfast!”
Almost choking with slobbers I watched him cooking. It was rather provocative process. He looked so dear when examined the meat, searched for the salt and jumped away from the sizzling oil. I laughed at his pensive face when he read the intructions on rice-cooking. It was going to drag on and I took the process into my own hands. Philip was grateful he didn’t have to feign a professional cook of himself.
Nevertheless, when the splendid piece of pork plopped down on my plate near a wonderul hillock of rice I praised his cooking talents with “A”. The smell was irresistible and I drove the fork into meat.
Philip perched right on the table, his bum near my plate. From above he followed the travels of the fork: mouth-plate, mouth-plate. I put a little piece of meat in his mouth.
“Cool!” he estimated.
“Unfair! It was my phrase!”
“Aha! But you are busy with chewing! I just helped you with your work!” he made a sweet face.
“I see, then please go on the same way and say “thank you” to yourself!” I returned.
He poured me a glassful of orange juice.
“Now I see why you usually smell orange juice!” I said, scraping away the rest of the food from my plate.
I put the last rice-drop in my mouth and screwed up my eyes in a highest moment of happiness. But when I opened them Philip was there with a big sandwich. Wurst...
Tears appeared on my eyes.
“For being a good girl!” he grinned.
The sandwich was gone in a moment. My stomach, pleased like a cat, murred an purred so that I reddened when Philip turned into ear. I pressed my hands on my belly to make it silent.
“What do I smell for you?” I asked.
“Twilight fan?” he raised his eye-brow. “Edward or Jacob?”
“Drop dead, old nerd!” I threw a crumpled napkin in him.
He caught it in the air and sniveled loudly.
The nasty lump hit my forehead.
“Still?”
I was about to say Mike Newton, but he protested.
“Ne Bella and Mike Newton!”
“Bella’s farther!” I proclaimed.
“No!” he grasped his head in despair. “Ed or Jake?”
“Neither” I insisted. “I am about evil characters! I am in Victoria party!”
“She is a girl!” Philip seemed offended with my choice.
I shrugged: this jingo attitude was a riddle for me.
“You didn’t answer my question!” I reminded.
“Pain in my ass!” he scolded but leaned to smell.
Heat of his breath touched my neck and boiled the blood in an instance. I was like a gas-burner, taking fire from a spangle. His nostrils quivered near my face then he leaned lower. I was smelled from the top to the toes and Philip verdicted:
“Meat and rice!”
I kicked him off the table. He fell on the floor, chocking with laughter. I added another fruity kick.
“Well, Hannah! What do you want to hear? Every time I kissed you, you smelled drunk!”
Fair, I agreed. But today?
“Today I was drunk! When I heard you wanting me to give you a lift, I was, put it mildly, confused! So I had a little for valour!”
That was a real revelation for me. What am I if men before visiting me have a knock back for courage? Am I that dangerous? Cool... That’s what I’ve dreamed about for all my life.
“It’s not about you!” Philip set things. “It’s about me. I thought that making peace with you again wouldn’t be any easy. You were quite hostile me for the last two weeks. What did I have to think about your abrupt request? I thought that you prepared more surprises for me! And – I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Can’t help myself being unpredictable!”
“I can’t get used to you, because I don’t know what you are!”
I patted his shoulder.
“Sorry but it’s not your problem. I don’t either”.
God bless we didn’t have a chance to stick to this subject. The doorbell interrupted our philosophic conversation. Philip went to open the door.
“Ahh, just imagine how we writhed to fit into my car. Seven of us!” Leuce’s voice filled the hall with her inimitable intonations.
“It was cool!” Alex confirmed, not that enthusiastic.
“Fuf, really cool, especially when your playful hands fumbled under my skirt! Handy boy!”
It was Maria. Bet on, Alex went as red as a tomato.
“What do you want? I could put them only under your skirt!”
“Next time I’ll leave them on the parking!” Mariah snarled.
I took the juice and walked out of the kitchen. The whole company bunched up in the hall. When I appeared with my triumphant glass, they all froze astonished and amazed half-for-half. Philip shifted his gaze from me to the lads and - took my side. With this unexpected gesture he offered me the role of his mistress for the party. The feeling was not familiar but it was alright with Philip around me.
“Hello!” I greeted them and raised the glass.
“Are you friends again?” Leuce asked suspiciously.
Philip nodded. Friends. That was actually the thing. Friends – so clear – like never before.
“No more stupid charges?” Leuce asked.
I strained and squinted. This question wasn’t harmless. I didn’t consider my first charge stupid. It was evident that I had to accuse Philip with the witnesses that I had. Now the situation was a little bit different.
The tension hung in the air between our parties – me and Philip from one said, and Leuce and co on the other.
“Everything got fixed, guys! No more misunderstanding!”
Philip could create troubles with incredible speed and he could clean the air also easily. He danced through the life, on the edge of the blade, over the precipice and didn’t fall.
It seemed there were no weeks of outcast for me. I was the member of the pack again. An equal among equals. The company occupied the dining room, girls on the sofa, boys on the floor. Leuce was as vivid as always – and more friendly to me. She didn’t recall our former “controversy”, thanks to Philip who seemed to pay no attention to my words. Whether he didn’t believe, whether he barely minded if she loved him or not – I never knew.
As for others, they barely had personal reasons to have frictions with me. They had their own problems in the pack. The invisible cancer corroded our company from inside, undermained the foundations. Something crumbled – grain after grain. It was hard to notice – but I saw it. And – it made no sense. I already was taught.
Tany and Mary – inseperable before – now only argued. Every spoken word turned into an apple of discord. Mary said ‘black’ and Tany snarled ‘white’. For every ‘yes’ there was a solid ‘no’. There was no obvious reasoning for both of them, save Philip’s existence. The triumph of idiotism happened when Mary refused to share the sofa with Tany.
Bless, others weren’t any difference with what they used to be. Kathe and Dimah still desired each other, Alex and Daniel couldn’t tear off their phones. At first sight, everything was alright. There was no way to deepen in the situation. From one turning moment it was not my deal.
So I took place in Philip’s armchair, not too comfortable without him. Philip disappeared in the kitchen and clattered dishes.
Mariah described in details how they gagged the instructor. Without batting an eye Daniel (smarthead) persuaded the credulous woman that I was diagnosed a tropic influenza and now the entire group had to pass the checkup for the virus. He pictured the awful symptoms so graphically that the old woman fainted. When she came to her senses, she cancelled the classes and sent the flame baits to the hospital.
“So we came to have a proper treatment, doctor Nobillar!” she cried to Philip.
He walked out of the kitchen with six bottles of beer and made the guys bring the rest.
“Here is your treatment!”
Everyone bucked up and showed much more enthusiasm when the beer filled the tankards. Two minutes and my classmates were gulping down happily the “crisp fluide”. Only my tankard was empty. Even Philip savoured the amber drink and stole glances in my side above the tankard. He didn’t encroach on the armchair so I huddled up in it, pleased to see him peer at me. He seemed to control my every movement and it was nice, too.
Protected, was I.
“Why don’t you drink, Hannah?” he leant over me, handling a glassful. I supressed the desire to pull him closer and frowned instead. I hoped, the frown was convincing.
“Bet on, I will smell beer after the party!”
The word suddenly infuariated me. A party! That was we doing! Having a party! Now!
I collared him and dragged to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “How will we interrogate drunk idiots?”
“Easy, Hannah! Look at them. They are idiots, anyway. What can they tell you? Do you realy think they pay attention? They are just wasting time! Even if Lisa was murdered in their eyes, they would be unlikely to understand what it was!”
He was right. This wasn’t a bush with berries for me. Dead desert. I listened to their laughter, to funny stories they shared and understood everything was vain. They didn’t care about Lisa’s death. No more. And asking questions would be just another game for them...
I didn’t notice tears fall from my eaves. Philip pressed me to his chest and caressed my trembling shoulders. He was the only one who realized what responsibility lay on me, my heavy burden. Because he had his own cross to bear.
“Don’t cry, Hannah! We’ll manage without their help!”
“I am tired of being alone. Of fighting with unknown enemies! Of the life that was created for someone else! I am just a guest actor in this show!” I whispered through the tears.
He pushed me away:
“You’re a cry-baby! How will you win if you are crying constantly?”
“Drop dead!” I shouted, my eyes immediately dry.
“Then don’t whimper, go and get tight!”
“I don’t want!” I said.
“Go!” he ordered.
The lightnings in his eyes fired my heart with rage. I grabbed the glass from the table and tossed in the wall. It broke in pieces but Philip was already under the table, hiding from the fragments. I cried:
“Get out, dastard coward! Get and battle!”
I prepared one more glass for his black head.
He leaped from under the table and pounced at me. His hand snatched the glass away and gently put on the table.
“Spoilt one was my favourite!”
He threw me over the shoulder and carried away through the room. My classmates, already drunk enough to wonder about nothing, didn’t notice some oddity in my position. I knocked Philip’s back with my fists, but with the same portion of success I could beat a rock on my way. He only laughed and tickled my heels with a finger. I tore between indignation and laughter, while the floor passed by my eyes.
Philip brought me to the chamber and threw on the bed. I kicked him under the knee and we both fell on the plaid.
“One-zero to mine!”
“Nooope!” he knocked me down with a pillow.
There wasn’t a pillow for me so I pushed him off the bed. He dropped the pillow and I hogged it at the same moment. Now I had the edge! We rushed out from the chamber, wild and mad. Philip fell right on the sofa, between Mariah and Daniel. I jumped on him, but didn’t reach the sofa and landed on Dimah. Kathe revenged me with an empty tankard. Alex and Daniel decided it was a sequel of banquet and simultaneously attacked my offender.
The sofa toppled over.
In a minute the dining room became a chaos of rolling and laughing people. Having nothing to do with the common imbecility I joined the party.

Philip watched me with silent interest while I was totally devoured in the text-book. I wasn’t a great fan of cramming, but during the weeks of compelled loneliness I got used to spending more time for studying. In fact, it was my only occupation throughout the days. I didn’t complain because it was rather useful.
Even now, when the things got fixed up again, I didn’t want to lose a habit. My classmates were already sleeping, tightly packed on the sofa and on the mattresses on the floor. When Leuce hinted, there was one more room in the apartment, she was awarded with a strict glare and significant grin. Leuce stole an angry look at me but I shook my head. Nothing personal about me and Philip. He calls the tune.
The silence was striking difference with the bedlam that was on two hours before. Only Philip and me didn’t hit the sack so easy. I sat over the manual. Philip sipped the remainders of beer and took sugarplums from a big plastic bag. The idyl was complete with the soft darkness that purled through the curtains and merged with the lamp light. The wind faded otside and only stubbed up trunks reminded of the disaster.
“I talked to all of them when they were going to bed!” Philip said to me when I turned over the last page of the chapter. “About Lisa”.
I laid the manual away, demonstrating I was ready to listen attentively.
He was at a loss.
“Nothing interesting like I’ve expected. They saw nothing and heard nothing. Except of me, leaving the classroom in the very beginning of the practice!”
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“I thought we reasoned it out!” he frowned.
I turned to him and took away the beer. Without a glass in the open hand he was resembling a beggar for alms. Instead I put a candy and clutched the fist. Philip set about chewing.
“I still have to know - to recollect the picture!” I insisted.
“I went to talk with the philosopher!” he admitted.
If he really did, I had no more questions. The department of philosophy was in the other wing. The whole building was a labyrinth of endless passages, nooks and dead ends. The architector might have ended his years in an asylum, because no normal man could create such a clot of stairs and aisles. The main idiotism of the conception was in the comminucation of nothern and southern wings of the building. To make it short from chemisty class to philosophy you needed to descend from the third floor to the store-room, turn the corner and climb the stairs to the fourth floor (lift? Where have you seen a working lift?). Then you had to walk through the long hall in the department of colloidal chemistry and only then you could reach the philosophy classrooms if you had enough patientce remained.
Poor freshmen spent hours puzzling over this nipel-system.
“What have you done there? Your first meeting wasn’t nice!”
“Does it matter, Hannah? This detail doesn’t affect your entire interrogation! You’d better go to sleep! You’re exhausted!”
I nodded and tried to stand up. My legs failed and I fell back on the chair.
“Let me carry you!” he sighed.
“Oh, beat it up! I’m not pregnant and you’re not a happy father!”
His bedroom was familiar enough to feel there at home. Philip was going to share the bed with me, and I didn’t mind it before he began to pull off his trousers. Without paying any attention to my confusion, he crumpled them and pushed into the wardrobe. I returned my jaws back and covered with blanket, unwilling to show him how interesting his body was for me.
“Ahhh, is it nesessary to undress?”
“Well” he grinned “you can stay in clothes, but I prefer to sleep undressed!”
Okay, I ventured. There was nothing wrong in sleeping naked... Nothing wrong...
Aha, but who will sleep?
I slowly pulled off my jeans and stayed in a T-shirt and pants. Sleeping with a pony tail was also rather uncomfortable so I got rid of the hairpin and let my hair freely flow down the shoulders.
Philip was hot under the blanket so that in a minute we weren’t able to breathe anymore. We turned away from each other and fell silent. His steady breathing lulled me so that in a minute I was almost asleep.
An urgent phone call didn’t leave me a chance. Where it came from I couldn’t define. The ringtone was surely mine – I was the only fan of Nightwish in the group. I kicked Philip and asked:
“Where is it?”
“What?” he growled out through the industrious snore.
“The ring!”
Aha, I bent over the guy and picked my cell-phone from the floor.
 “Si?” I asked in the tube.
“Ann! I don’t really mind where you are but you’d better be dead when I find you! What is it?” Jul’s was ranting and raving. I moved the tube away from the ear not to get deaf.
“What?” I wondered when the shouts faded a little.
“It’s me who asks you, what it is! What is it in my bed?”
I was not too sleepy not to understand that Juls discovered something strange in her bed and now was going to blame me for it. But I had done nothing. That’s what I told her. My words were accompanied with another portion of scold.
“It’s a bird!” Juls finally informed me.
“Where did you get it?”
“NO! Where did YOU get it? Why have you put it into my bed?”
“The bird?” I wondered.
Philip rose in the bed and listened for our meaty talk.
“Uhm... ah! The pigeon! Caught it! I mean I caught it when the wind was going to hit it in our window! I’ve rescued its life!” I boasted. “Feed it, please! The pigeon likes your cereals!”
“What?! You gave my cereals to this foul skunk, didn’t you?”
“Easy, Jully! It’s not any fouler than you! You just feed it and set free! I don’t know how it got in your bed, because I laid it in mine. May be, it woke up, went travelling around the flat and found out that your bed was much more... acceptab...”
“Idiot!” Juls turned off.
The toots were more tuneful than Julia’s displeased screams.
I threw the cellphone under the bed and fell on the pillow. Tired, I’m so tired....
“What was it?” Philip’s voice entwined in my dreamy darkness.
“Madness of life, just madness” I muttered and closed my eyes.

Chapter 4
In your eyes, darkness

It woke me up in the night – the light that touched my eyes and didn’t fade away when I covered them with a blanket. Firstly I thought that it was a continuation of my dream – rather pleasant one, to be honest and it didn’t lack some Philipness. The light brought itching back to my life, the desire. Not a human passion, but the feeling more likely to be originated in heaven’s sources. My wings reminded of themselves.
I climbed out of the bed, trying not to wake Philip with careless movement. He embryoed in the bed, half-naked. The shadows crept on his bare shoulders, I couldn’t resist and touched his shoulder with a slightest kiss. He stirred and I shrunk back.
This piece of beauty is not for you, Anne.
I walked out in the sitting-room. My classmates, lulled by alcohol vapours, slept soundless, save Daniel’s happy hum. He embraced his eternal friend Alex and whispered something in his ear. I wondered whether Alex heard him – such a pleased smile drifted on his lips. Leuce took the sofa, almost pushed away Tany and Mary. Kathe and Dimah slept face to face, holding each other’s hand.
I stepped over the bodies, smiling. The night changed everything. Friends were friends again.
The lock moaned as I walked in the stair case. The door swept closing behind me. I ascended the stairs, following the calling moonbeam. The blood that was silent through weeks, suddenly arose in my veins and boiled, heating me. I felt the fire spread over my body, so that the coldness outside seemed nothing but a word. Rather strange word, to mention. I noticed my bare feet only when stepped on a glass-splinter and jumped, cursing the drunkards.
The stairs were dirty and cold, but I didn’t mind it. The calling was more than anything else on the Earth. I hadn’t felt the itching for so long that it struck me. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t want.
I was some kind of a sleep-walker. I barely noticed anything around me, save the only quantum of light in front of my eyes. I could never remember how I climbed to the roof and appeared under the gigantic full moon. The vastness of skies swallowed me immediately. I froze, dazzling lit by the moonlight, the silver gaze melted on my skin. I licked my dry lips – the air tasted sweet and humid. There wasn’t a slightest breath of wind, but my hair shivered – because my whole body shivered from foretaste.
I was alive again. Philip, this incredible guy, only one all over the world had a power to bring me back to life. I couldn’t pretend myself to thank him ever, but I was grateful. I really was.
The clouds lingered over the moon, giving me a chance to set free from the calling. As the light faded on my spot, I breathed out with relief. It was a weird magic, that didn’t dispose to being sane. I fought hard and got nowhere in the end. So why resist? Why suffer if I can give in to it?
The flight was all I desired. I closed my eyes and relaxed. My legs danced in impatience. I waited until the moon oozed through the fluffs and send another portion of spell on me. It struck into my heart, I choked and caught the wave. The blood in my veins almost broke the vessels, aspiring for freedom. I hesitated a minute whether to humble and – let the chains fall.
With my heart open and my hands ready I rushed on the roof, quickly reaching the edge. As I almost fell in the humid air in ecstasy of free flight, someone’s solid body collided in mine and we both fell on the cold roof. I fluttered, not quite aware what happened. Instead of the freedom I got more weight on my body. I moaned, pushing the intruder away. He gave up the fight and rolled aside. I jumped on my feet and shouted:
“Are you mad? What have you done?”
Philip glared at me from the floor, his face angry, his breath broken.
“Anne! Are you mad? I’ve just prevented you from another suicide effort! I don’t want to watch your brains on the pavement tomorrow morning!” he hissed.
“My brains on the pavement? Who told you this bullshit? What do you know about me to stop me!” I knocked his chest with a fist. “How dare you to spoil everything at its high point? You, damn idiot!”
He watched me, misunderstanding, like on infected one, driven crazy on his eyes. I knew I should have explained the situation to him to avoid such amissions afterwards, but who was he to dictate me how to act? Why should I care? So I kept silence, let him think whatever he could imagine about my suicidal inclinations. I was said to be mad – well, a minute ago I seemed to have proved the rumours. If he’s my friend, what’s unlikely, he won’t believe anyone but me. If he’s not, that’s not any of my problems.
Thus we stood opposite each other, boiling, puffing. No one was going to give in, even if we had a prospect to spend the rest of our lives on this roof. In some minutes I began to feel the coldness of the air, deprived of the calling that warmed me before. I felt nothing but anger – human, grounded anger and no itching between my shovels. Philip’s presence put out the fire in my veins and brought new, almost irresistable fire in my heart. Not a fire, but a real conflagration. A new feeling originated inside me while I stood, glaring and shivering with coldness.
I pretended what consequence it would bring and blinked, struck with the images.
I didn’t want it – but Philip interpreted it as a signal of my retreatment and relaxed. His figure lost its tensed attractiveness and became more friendly-looking. He wasn’t my enemy anymore, but a friend who cam to take care. No matter if I didn’t want this care or thought I didn’t want it. He was going to provide me with it anyway, whether I protested or not. I decided not to waste strength and easily accepted the parka he pulled on me. I wrapped in it, inhaling the odour – it smelled Philiplike, oranges and something else, I couldn’t decipher.
Then he put one fluffy pump near my right foot. I was about to slip in it when Philip stopped me.
“There is a sock for Cinderella tonight!”
The sock was rather manliness. I could never imagine a Cinderella that had such a foot size and preferred this marsh colour. Philip held my shoulder tight, while I pulled on the sock. It was much bigger than my foot and hung loosely. I hid the foot in the pump.
“Where have you done my socks?”
“Dinosaured?” he smiled.
I nodded.
“I took them in my collection. I always pick up socks from the guys that visit me!” he whispered, as if there was someone to overhear.
“Poor lads! In the morning they all will lack one sock!” I frowned.
The picture would be worth watching – my friends rushing over the sitting-room in search for disappeared socks. My mind added giggling Philip, hiding the loss behind his back. I couldn’t help chuckling.
He might have pretended the same movie. His laughter was much louder, reflected from the walls of next buildings and echoed back with a howling. He fell on his knees and howled on the moon. His face got such an expression that I bent in an uncontrollable burst of laugh, slipped on the smooth floor and fell right on Philip. His howl broke on its highest point as we tumbled down on the floor and, fluttering, fought with each other.
It didn’t take him long to win. He clicked my nose, demonstrating his superiority and rolled aside, continuing to puff. I showed him my tongue, trying to get my breath even. But the smile that stretched my lips wide didn’t let me to inhale correctly. I sucked air in and hissed, like a holed baloon.
Philip by my side got silent. I could never discover what he was thinking about, but my thoughts followed their usual direction. The moon above us, majestic and solemn, disposed to philosophical discussions, to long and diffuse lovewords, to fairy-tales full of handsome princes and kind girls. There must have been proper words for us, so stragely bound, but we didn’t know them. It was a perfect time to have them said, but our tongues were numb. May be, if we listened to our hearts, we would both hear them summon us, hear them speak from the bottom, but we didn’t want.
There was a precipice between us. And now, when we laughed together and lay so peaceful and tender hand to hand, we realized it like never before and never afterwards. We wanted to be friends but we couldn’t. Whatever we tried we didn’t succeeded.
I knew what the problem was. So different we were, so unlike. A fairy and a demon. White and black, cold and hot, day and night. Quite aware he was a demon, most of all I wanted to ask whether he knew about my nature. And if he knew, couldn’t he please tell me, too?
I smiled to the stars. Friendship was prohibited to us, such strange creatures.
More of it, on my way to being his friend there was a power, stronger than anything in this world. Love, cursed thing, it tore me in pieces, left me bleeding on the edge. Eva was totally right when she said that love was healthless. Not only for fairies. It was healthless for Anne, whatever she was, this little girl.
But I had it in my hands – hurtful, burning to ashes, but so desired. The right to love someone – it’s hard to overestimate. That is what I wanted – not a guy who loved me back, but a gift to fall in love myself.
The understanding of such a simple thing soothed my soul.
“Philip?” I asked suddenly. “Are you sleeping?”
“No, of course, not. What do you want?” he said.
“Don’t you think this evening is right?”
“Right?”
“I mean, oh, that’s hard to explain. The way we’re lying here. It’s right. It makes me feel there is a time when I will be happy. One day”
I pressed his warm fingers in my cold hand, as if trying to thank him for what he had done to me. I wanted to kiss each finger, one by one, to seal them so that no one could encroach on mine. My heart sank and moaned, lacking air. I felt tears on my eyelashes and blinked them down before Philip could notice I was wet upon my eyes. He caressed my wrist with his thumb, then began to draw something invisible on my palm. It was tickling and seducing at the same time. If I didn’t keep on analyzing the situation I would get off my head in a moment.
I rose on my elbows and bent over him. He peered into the skies above and smiled. His posture – it also was right. This evening was made for rightness, for certainty, for peace. Stability, the greatest thing I appreciated. It was poured in the air. Safety.
It all was given by the man who lay near me. Warm and tender as his fingers traced hyeroglyphs on my skin. I not only felt, I was protected near him. There was nothing cruel in him, except the way he treated himself. If he just...
No, I dropped the thought. There was also a notion of merit. Not him, I wasn’t the one who deserved the chance.
“And you?” I asked him.
His hand grasped mine in a sudden spasm, as if he was drowning and searched for support. But the smile on his face remained stable. Stable...
“I am happy”, he said.
It was an indirect scorn in my adress.
The colour of shame covered my cheeks. I wanted to turn away to hide it from him, but he held me tight. His eyes concetrated on my face. Then his another hand caught my chin and pulled closer to him.
I knew what would happen. I desired it so much and still hated myself for desiring. I. Didn’t. Deserve. It. The guy near me was a miracle butterfly I couldn’t get in my hands, unless scratched the pollen from it and hurt to death. But what could I do, when his distance hurt me even more?
I might hurt him. I managed to spoilt everything around me.
The plea in my eyes was obvious. Of all the greats in this world I asked for two incompatible – to kiss me whole and let me go, bleed with self-hatred. My face was clearly readable. Philip’s face was – empty.
His hand pulled my chin a little bit closer, so that I had to lie on him. The warmth of his chest burnt me with ache. I couldn’t stand his presence. I couldn’t bear his hands around me. I was melting.
Please, let us both have a right way. Push me away. I’ll spoil the things.
“I’m happy!” he whispered in my ear. “Save one thing! I see you want it also. Why don’t you?”
I shivered. Wanting me for happiness was impossible. Lies escaped his sweet lips so easily. And they oozed through my ears no harder. I wanted to believe, uhm, most of all I wanted.
“You can’t want me. I’ll spoil everything!”
He chuckled.
“Let me decide upon what I want or not. I know better. And you forgot, there’s one person who’s a spoiler. Me, in fact!”
“You are wrong!” I shook my head.
“Hannah, I don’t want to waste time on it. If you don’t want to be happy with me, I’ll have to force you in it!”
This time I, bless him, didn’t have a chance for recoiling. He covered my lips with his and I forgot all my reasons in a moment. He rolled over me and appeared to weigh me down with his body. I was caged in a ring of his moving muscles, under his body, hot in his and my desire. Doubled it became impossible for us both. Kisses were urgent like if we’d suffocated without them. My hands became feverish, searching around his body for something, may be for a switch off. Philip wasn’t any better, clinging at my skin like at a last hope. We groaned unisonally, bent in impossible postures, trying to dissolve in each other.
That was passion, naked and true. I couldn’t think of anything except his mouth over my neck, my chest, my stomache. I bit his ear, strength-tested his muscles and his self-control. We both knew that this madness couldn’t last eternally. There was a way out –for his ardour, for my lust. Were we ready to risk?
I smelled his sweating skin and understood I was. Ready for anything he asked from me. But he just moaned and didn’t show any will to go further. It wasn’t easing at all. I wanted him to go further. I urged him.
Was it about his self-control, or his undesire but he didn’t yield to my call. In that only odious meaning my body was safe.
“Philip!” I pled. “Please...”
Every word was forced out, squeezed through my clenched teeth. I was on the very highest stage of being hurt with passion, reaching the skies, going to exlode. I didn’t want – without him by my side. His heavy breath over my ear, as his lips went on torturing my skin, became unbearable.
The agony had to be over soom, unless I died, exhausted with passion.
“Philip!” I exhaled, almost unconscious.
I was to scream, to have the pleasure out of me. I couldn’t. It accumulated inside my body and tore it asunder.
“Please!” I yelled, my eyes flooding.
His lips chained over mine and when his tongue touched mine I finally gave up.
“Philip!” my scream broke the skies.
My body exploded with a million of sparkling crystals. I trembled in Philip’s tender arms, while the pleasure, built up inside broke out by shrill jerks. Creeps traveled over my skin. As the agony soothed and the dim of stars enlightened in front of my eyes, I began to apprehend reality. Philip didn’t roll away but breathed out hard, hiding his face in my hair. We both trembled.
“Hannah!” he whispered.
I took his T-shirt away. He didn’t protest, too shocked with what happened. I tried not to think of my body’s feelings. I focused on the wish to watch Philip naked, his godlike torso, covered in moonlit tan. This night he was mine. I wasn’t going to lose a moment of pleasure. It cost much. I’d pay. Tomorrow.
I was happy.
“I didn’t want to hurt you! Please, I’m sorry! I had to struggle. I couldn’t. I can’t!” he muttered self-ashamed.
“Philip... It was unreal. You didn’t hurt me. I’m – uhm – can we – uhm – continue?” I said.
He raised his raven head and stared at me, unbelieving. My eyes were humid, and the moisture glittered on his cheeks. My tears on his bronze. I kissed his nose and smiled. I love you, I wanted to say.
But I wasn’t going to spoil everything this time.
“What about you?” I pointed at his trousers. With the absence of a T-shirt, his own discontent was even more obvious.
“No” he said firm.
I frowned.
“Why not?”
 “No, Hannah!” he roared suddenly and pushed me so hard that I fell meter away. “I haven’t done it the first time. I won’t humble now!”
My eyes popped up, my brains stopped working, unwilling to make out the situation. My legs went quivering, sharp creeps crawled over my skin, thrusting into my flesh. They hurt me, like a million of glass splinters. I wanted to cry but no sound broke from my lips. I choked with words, unaware what I wanted to say. There were so many questions, so much confusion.
He hasn’t done it first time... First time...
I shut the parka on my chest, suddenly cold. My teeth chattered. It had nothing to do wth the temperature around me, I shivered from inside, trembled then began twitching like in epileptic attack. Philip rushed to me, his face distorted with terror. I shrunk back, protecting my face with hands.
“Don’t come closer! Leave me be!”
“Ann!” he pled.
I didn’t watch. Only one thought was born and began to spin around in my head. First time. First time. First time. I hoped I misheard. I hoped that phrase was created in my inflamed mind. I couldn’t raise my eyes to look at him. I knew I would read the truth in his face. And it would be not the thing I liked.
“I didn’t want to hurt you!” he wept.
“Shut up!” I burst out. “Stop saying you didn’t want to hurt me! You’ve hurt me already million of times. Stop promising what you can’t keep. Stop cheating! Stop! Stop! Stop!”
I pushed him away as he tried to embrace me. His mercy was the last thing I wanted. Truth, however hurtful it was.
I caught my breath. Now, Anne, don’t humble, don’t yield. Try to keep whole. There will be time to shed tears, not now, but after the credits.
“The first time? When have it been?” I hoped my voice sounded firm.
“At mine. After Lisa’s party! We haven’t come that far to feel sorry now. For anything!” he said.
“Feel sorry?”I smiled, suddenly. “Sorry?”
He scrutinized me attentively, as if trying to imprint my lineaments in his memory. I knew I had somehow to react on his words. Still, I had nothing to say.
I forgot everything. How painful was it if I used my ultimate method of treatment? I erased everything from my mind, leaving no chance to surface again. But now it came back. I wished he had gone further and not brought the subject to life.
Memories that I considered non-existing tortured me and rooted up. I stood up, trembling. I wasn’t going to show him I suffered. He didn’t deserve such a gift.
I wanted him most of all that night. I wanted him most of all tonight. He knew it. He rejected me because of some stupid reasons. He even didn’t explain, considering me not worth it. I was a toy he played with and then threw in the depth of a toy-box. He used me like he wanted. I was a live human. I wanted to be loved too, no matter if I denied it loud.
I wanted.
“I’ll go to sleep, Philip!” I said only.
I got undressed in two sharp moments, heaped the cloths near the bed and observed it, wincing from aversion. This time his bed looked cold and empty. I lay on it like on a thorn covered death bed, pulled blanket on my chin and screwed up my eyes. Philip rustled in the darkness. I waited him to take place near me and shrunk on the very edge of the bed, ready to faint if he touched me.
There was silence.
I half-opened my eyes and thrusted out of the blanket. Philip comforted in the armchair and seemed to have fallen asleep already. I opened my mouth to say something.
“You don’t have to be merciful to me, Hannah!” he said.
I turned on my side and closed my eyes.
       
The sun lit everything around me with unreal shine that thrust into my eyes and blinded me. I covered my eyes with a hand but it helped no more than a fan helps against a robber with a gun. Moreover, my flesh passed the light like a lens, intensifying it many times. I tried to scream, to run away but my voice was numb and my legs were like solid rocks, attached to the ground.
I could hardly understand where I was – the air smelled nothing but heat, the sounds were fried and crispy. The sweat flowed down my back, hissed and evaporated.
My whole body was melting slowly, like if the sun itself prolonged my agony. There was nothing for me except absolute heat. And my inner temparature was rising with incredible speed. If I don’t run and hide, I’ll expose, I thought.
I strained my leg but it didn’t move a little. The ground beneath me set in a motion. I was drowning in a drift sand, somewhere in a desert...
“No” I whispered with my parched lips.
The hot cough suffocated me so that every breath was lacerating my lungs and throat. Inhaling became a torment, easily compared with drinking boiling water and eating clear fire. I couldn’t save myself.
“Philip!” I pleaded, half drown in the sand.
My skin began to bubble and split. The sight turned vague and weak – my head was no more working properly. I seemed to be imprisoned in a transparent dome – everything outside it was unseen, unheard and unfelt.
Life was evaporating out of me with the last drops of liquid.
“Ph-hhh-hrrr”
No sound came out of my throat. Death was unmerciful, too late to cut off the pains. Too late but unavoidable. Nothing could rescue me now so the only pray that appeared in my obscure head was about oblivion...
Only my head was above the surface, but the sands were already stealing up to it. The walls of the dome contracted around me, leaving no air, whatever hot it was. I was still moving my lips in a last prayer when the sands closed above my head.
        But the death didn’t come. Now I was soldered in the fick of sand, unable to talk, to move, to breath, to shout, to plead. The senses returned to me, wishes and willings, hopes and desires. I couldn’t move my lips but I wanted to eat and drink. The hunger appeared, so strong that my stomach tossed in the body. My lips glued without whater. I wanted to lie and rest, to close my eyes, to relax.
I was going to linger in my standing position with eyes wide open – forever. Motionless, emotionless, lifeless.
Buried alive.
No, I prayed. No, let a miracle break once in my life. Let me die. Please... Deliver me from this grave. Set me free. Oh god, if you exist, please, don’t let me, don’t let me... take me away...
Pozhaluista...
Someone heard me.

“Don’t die, Hannah! Don’t die! Don’t! Please not now, don’t you idiot girl die!” somebody’s screams exploded in my head. I suddenly inhaled deep and opened my eyes so that they almost goggled. The pain impaled my chest and I coughed, spitting out blood and phlegm. Cool October air burst into my burned lungs, like a shed of icy water.
I wheezed, griping my chest. One more cough and it would tear in pieces.
Everything around me was like in a dim. Vague silhouettes, illegible muttering, wailing and scolding in different languages. I couldn’t make out what was happening, save everything wasn’t good at all. Even the smells told nothing to my nose.
“Let me die!” I pleaded mechanically.
In answer to my prayer two steel hands squeezed my shoulders and sharp fingers digged into my flesh.
“Just dare, just dare to die, Hannah, and Hades will be Paradise with what I’ll do with you!”
I twitched and the shroud fell from my eyes. They all were around me – my friends and Philip. Tearful faces, mourful eyes, wet cheeks and trembling lips... funeral expression. Who did they bury?
Sudden comprehension distorted my mind and I jumped on the bed.
 “What’s going on?”
Kathe fainted at the same moment. I followed her with muddy look and turned to Philip. He was the only who didn’t bury anyone and didn’t put on the appropriate mask. But his face was rather red and... furious. It was his iron fingers that left ten identical bruises on my skin.
“Just try to act like that again and you’ll end parted on many, many different pieces!” he hissed and left the room.
“Aha” I said, confused. “Cool! Who’s got more arguments?”
“We thought you have died” Dimah answered, not that confident like I expected.
“But I didn’t” I objected.
“Philip rescued you!” Leuce wiped off the tears and smiled with relief.
“Thanks, but why was I dying?” I asked.
Nobody knew. They all were sleeping peacefully when Philip’s unhuman scream woke them up. When Dimah rushed into the chamber I was lying lifeless on Philip’s knees, my face snow-white, eyes rolled up. Philip shook my body and shouted some spanish scold, and Dimah called for others. Kathe checked my pulse – there was no heartbeat. I didn’t breathe – with my mouth loosely open. Philip tried artificial respiration, heart massage but nothing worked. He even flogged my cheeks – no blush alighted them.
In some moment everyone gave up – the death was so evident that only a total craze could try to revive me. Philip was still squeezing my body when I suddenly spoke. It was like a voice from heaven in striking silence – shortest breath fallen from my lips, but Philip set up with more energy, shaking me and shouting in my pallid face.
I woke up.
“What was it like to die?” Kathe asked.
There was only childish curiosity in her question, nothing more, but I barely supressed the wish to hit her in wondering face.
“I wasn’t dying!” I answered.
“ But the pulse –“
“It’s OK! You didn’t merit your A in first aid classes! Please, go and learn how to check it!”
I walked to the bathroom – it was locked. I knocked in the door, asking Philip to let me in.
“Go away!” his hollow voice sounded empty.
“Philip, it won’t be better if you go on blaming yourself for what has happened!”
“Go away!”
“Philip, tell me, you don’t really consider yourself guilty of the accident, do you?”
“Go away, Hannah!”
“Listen to me!” I got edgy with his stupidity “You are not any guilty. I was weak. And I gave in to the nightmare. I couldn’t cope with it. So don’t get involved in my deal. You have nothing to do with it. Just don’t feign a scape-goat of yourself. It doesn’t fit you! Get out of there! It was my prerogative to die when I wanted. Get out, Philip. You are not going to spend the whole night in the bathroom! Either I will have to sleep on the carpet near the door. Will you do this favour to me or will go out and act cleverly?”
“I’m a spoiler!” he murmured from inside.
“Philip. I am reasonable. So, you will get out of the bathroom and act properly. Get out. I don’t want to spend the rest of the night on the floor. Get. Out. Will you?”
“Please, don’t hate me!” he wept.
“Stop being a cry-baby, Philip! I’m nod dying and there is no reason to pity yourself! You can stay there as long as you want!”
After some silence, when I had already comforted myself on the mentioned carpet, the door opened and Philip appeared. He was gloomy and tousled. The traces of horror were still recognizable on his face, still chained his movements. I smiled to him from my improvized bed. Nothing was that awful like he pretended. I was about to die, but I’m around as yet, alive and no less healthy than before. This ‘death’ seemed a little misuderstanding to me – a nightmare that endeavoured to cross the limits of realities and was defeated by the irresistable desire to stay alive.
My classmates watched us suspiciously whether or not I was going to begin to die again. I ensured them I was alright, already recovered from a sudden attack of heart decease. Fortunately, none of them mastered pathology enough to know that no heart decease can kill that way. Only Kathe glared at me, but said nothing. She sized Philip with a pensive glance, as if considering something in her mind. If she wasn’t so absorbed in Dimah, I would think, she guessed the real state of things. Well, not guessed, but felt that everything was not that plain as it seemed to others.
But she dragged Dimah along, speaking neither with him, nor with us. Leuce sighed, peeked at the bed – that turned out my real deathbed - and left us with Philip face to face. We didn’t talk, also not aware what to say. I’d already spent all my words of encouraging, while persuading him to walk out the bathroom. Now I had nothing to say to clear the air. I promised there would not be any tension from now on, but I lied. It hardly depended on me – Philip was the closed side and he wasn’t going to accept any of my reconciling. He refused to look at me, hiding his eyes from my straight stare. It was his choice.
For my tonight experience I could thank only myself. I was weak. I suffered. And Philip, whatever he imagined about himself, had nothing to do with it, even if he desired my death from the bottom of his heart. I knew he did not.
He didn’t deserve his self-ashame. But if he liked to be guilty, let him enjoy.
I turned from him and stared at the moon. She stared back and blinked to me. I winced – silent witness of my failures.
And your victories, she could add. Bless the god, she at least, was numb.
Dying... Did Lisa also?..
I pretended my classmates in the next room – scared that life didn’t leave them much time to waste it. Mary and Tany immediately forgot their quarrels, Daniel and Alex united in silent concord. Kathe and Dimah would fall asleep in each other’s embraces. I heard their unspoken prayer – “Let this cup of suffering pass from me, let this abrupt death miss the one I love”.
Love is all around them, in every breath, in every look. I should not envy.
I smiled and put back the curtains. They rustled, barely audible, and the room went darkened. I lay in the bed in the third time this night, quite aware I wouldn’t fall asleep. Philip didn’t lie near me. He sat in the armchair and watched me huddle under the blanket.
“Will you sleep tonight?” I asked.
“No, I won’t” he said.
“You will be tired tomorrow”.
“Doesn’t matter!” he said.
I arose in the bed and crawled to him, dragging the blanket with me.
 “I’ll care about your sleep!” he promised.
“You will go and lie next to me in this bed!”
I expected him to protest, but he didn’t. Instead, he obeyed without a word. He didn’t manage to pull on the blanket and comfort himself, but froze motionless on the sheets. His bronze body silvered in the weak twilight, so attractive. He mesmerized the cieling above, concentrating on it the way I focused on my golden roses. It wouldn’t bonify him, I knew. We had to fight with the troubles but not distance from them.
The sympathy I suddenly felt was soothing. I could hate no one. Especially, Philip. I loved him. And hatred, whatever people said, wasn’t one step from love. They had nothing similar. By my nature, by definition, I couldn’t hate at all. Hatred was a feeling bigger than I was, it required more stregth than I had. Philip – he could. Me – not.
And that was easing. I didn’t want to hate.
I took the blanket and covered Philip with it, tucking the corners. He opened his eyes and watched me, unbelieving. I sighed. Whatever he thought about me, he was wrong.
“Go sleeping, Philip. Good night!” I whispered and kissed the tip of his nose.
There was so much to be learnt. For him. And for me.

My triumphant return seemed to be thought-out in every single detail, like a procession of Hollywood star on the Oscar red walk. I had to do nothing but follow my classmates, disposed to make the justice crow over rumours. Firstly, they decided, we had to demonstrate our great inseparability. The idea was to walk out of Leuce’s car one after another, proud and brilliant.
There was a hitch but we discovered it too late to retreat.
  We crowded into Leuce’s car, all nine of us. Philip, her honourable guest, took the front sit, near Leuce, who was about to explode with happiness. Others concentrated on the narrow back sit, packed like sardines. Yesterday’s excesses like Alex’s hands under Mary’s skirt were beans with what we had today. I was bent a query-mark, my head under Alex’s arm, my left foot in Mary’s trouser-leg, right one on Philip’s shoulder.
During our way to university Dimah suffered he would never collect himself whole. Tany couldn’t decide whether to slap Daniel or go on enjoying his touches. Daniel was numb, because my hair corked his throat. Surely, he had plenty to say.
Kathe was at best condition – Leuce pushed her into the boot. Now and then we heard her knocks – she let us know she was rather alive and rather angry.
When Leuce finally stopped the car, another problem arose. When we loaded, Philip and Leuce simply shoved us into the salon, not caring about our integrity. Now they had to fish us out, preferably scatheless.
Leuce didn’t nanny with anyone. She pulled guys by their legs, trying to get more people from her car with a single effort. It didn’t work. We hit against each other, cursed Leuce and promised Hells to her. Philip was much kinder. Firstly he took out Tany and Daniel, wreathed in a Kama-sutra posture. Outside they immediately set to reason out who was more impudent.
Dimah didn’t need any help. He rushed to the boot to have his dear Kathe out.
Only three of us were left. Leuce with her chaotic pulls and twitching only fouled everything up. We were twisted in a tight clew of limbs and hair, weeping every time when Leuce appeared in our sight. No one wanted to be deprived of his legal hand or leg.
This time even Philip, our smart head, could suggest nothing useful. Thus they stood near the open door and watched our floundering. Tany demanded to set her twin-sister free, blaming Leuce for idiocy of situation. The crowd that usually filled the yard near the building shifted to our area. Everyone reckoned his duty to give an advice. I listened and winced, picturing the details in my mind. I’d never heard that much of bullshit at one time.
Mariah and Alex weren’t feeling any better. With any remark from outside Mary began to flutter, protesting against next brilliant idea. I tried not to make movements at all, wishing Alex would follow my example. When he moved I felt my skin part from the flesh and cried like mad. He froze only to start twitching in some minutes. If I had one hand free, I would calm him down forever – so ‘pleasant’ it was.
I hoped Leuce would do something.
“What’s going on, here?” strict voice interrupted outside muttering.
There came a rustling sound like if the crowd gave way to someone with... Oh, no, not him!
I imagined his bruised face, distorted in a satisfied grin and twitched so that Alex cried. Mary hissed to us, observing the scene outside. Her head was hanging over the pavement, face up to heaven. The picture was quite clear for her, but inverse.
“What is the problem, guys?” Andrew’s voice became tensed.
What’s going on there, I whispered to the nearest ear. It was Alex’s but he answered that Leuce and Philip screened our obscenity with their backs and Andrew didn’t see what was the fuss about. Andrew, indeed, asked to drive the car away.
I couldn’t see what happened after it.
Five blades thrust in my shoulder and with a hard jerk threw me on the pavement. I hoped that the grasp would relax and the vice set me free. But it went on shaking me, going to squeeze out my soul. I dodged and mechanically clutched into the sharp fingers with my teeth. The fingers unhitched and, falling, I kicked my invisible offender in his stomach.
“Bitch!” he mumbled.
I seemed to have heard this not so long ago. No. Not this far...
I cocked up my head and met face to face with Andrew, writhed in appendicitis spasm. Just in case I crawled under the protection of the crowd. Whoever I was before, nobody would extradite me to him. Andrew impended over me, but the crowd closed down.
“Aha!” Andrew grimaced a monster smile on his beautiful lips. “I think this great trick deserves to be known... in required place!”
He turned and walked away.
Alex helped me to stand up.
The whole crowd burst out applauding. Cheerful shouts were all in my honour, thanking for the performance. Too many people wanted to spoil Andrew’s existence. He wasn’t any favourite in the university since had a say in Philip’s charge. Now I vindicated myself totally.
Why didn’t it bring me any satisfaction?
Of course, if anybody knew that those symmetric bruises under his eyes were also product of “Baby Ann and co”, I would become the Queen of the Party. But being a queen with a certain destiny of a scaffold didn’t make sense to me. Andrew would revenge.
“Cool” Leuce concluded when the crowd dispersed. “I’ve been dreaming about it from my birth! I’ve got such a great list of faults that this parking incident may be the last straw!”
“Who talked too much of a triumph?” Tany reminded. “You wanted a sensation! You got it!”
“Thanks!” Leuce bowed to me.
I answered by a guilty smile.
“Don’t mind it!” Philip took Leuce by her hand and walked away. “That was just a joke! The dean has a good sense of humour!”
My shoulders sank.
“It was a splendid kick!” Kathe encouraged me. “Andrew deserved it!”
“Idiot guy!” Mary proved, rubbing her injured arm. “Couldn’t he be more careful? I’m not a bar of soap!”
“We’ll have problems!” I sighed.
When will I act normally without destroying things on my way? Well, a day ago Andrew really deserved his beating, but today it was a surplus. Damn, damn, damn, bozo girl. If you have no brains left, scrape the rest of your grey mass from the bottom and use it as much as you can... Don’t pretend yourself a world genius if you can’t even keep your hands off the fire!
“We are already used to having problems. While you were spaced out for weeks, we had too many troubles upon our heads!” Kathe said, when we were walking to the lecture-hall.
“I didn’t know!” I shrugged. “You kept me off that like a spy!”
Kathe didn’t react my words but continued.
“Leuce is right when says this can be a last straw. She is the most unlucky of us all. Begin with, Clara caught her napping when Leuce was stealing test-tasks from her study. Only Dimah with his charms prevented her from rising hell. Leuce still owes her thirty three hours of working-off. Then Alex and Dan were caught drinking beer in Gorky park... They didn’t have any documents. You see, they have a reprimand in their profiles. Then Leuce drove in dean’s car on the crossroad and called him a “wild goat”. He appointed her for seventy two hours of working-off. Moreover, she has got lots of problems with car-inspectorate. Leuce is a fan of breaking rules, you know. Even the traffic regulations!”
We comforted on our usual places on the top row. When some time passed the biochemistry lectures ceased to be ‘sold out’. The girls might have become disillusioned with Valerie. Still, there was plenty of his worshippers, including Mariah. Somehow she contrived to involve Tany in Valerie Alexandrovich club. They took places in the first rows and prepared to follow his every movement devotedly.
Daniel and Alex liked our last row where no one could notice they were far from present on the lecture. They lived diffent life with their cell-phones. Kathe just asked them to turn off the sound because it interfered with her talking. Leuce and Philip settled down one row lower us so that they could participate in our activities as well as stay alone. I liked the way Leuce took the initiative and enchanted Philip with her – hand it to Leuce – gigantic arsenal. Her long dense eyelashes cast shadows on eyes and seemed calling and shy. Her cheeks reddened in authorized time.
She was a profy, me – an amateur. Courageous and emancipated Leuce was a better match for him than a baby-cry like me. I wished she succeeded and snared Philip. I didn’t have any chances. Since the night we barely exchanged a couple of glances, not to mention words.
They looked so nice together that I got charmed, admiring his graceful tranguility and her clear laughter. Philip wasn’t a demon anymore, with her he appeared to be just an attractive young man.
“Baby Ann, you are not listening!” Kathe elbowed me in the rib. “I’ve been speaking all this time... to whom?”
“I watched Philip and Leuce!” I said.
Firstly Kathe was surprised with my candour. Then she peered intently at the couple and nodded.
“She’s been beating about the bush from the very first meeting! Only a blidnfold can miss this thing. Sometimes it seems that she’s about to succeed. But he always slips away. She only eggs on it and acts with triple enthusiasm. Look on her, she’s like a professional seducer. She calls him up and then pushes away. Now she gives, then takes. Bet on, she even doesn’t have any thought-out tactics. The skills are in her blood”.
Leucy was exact what Kathe said. A minute ago she laughed merrily at some joke, casting frivolous glances at Philip. And now she is twiddling his copper bangle, not taking off the wrist. Her soft fingers run across the smooth surface of the bracelet and touch his bronze skin by chance. She doesn’t look on the trifle. His eyes – what she cares about now. The tint of tender sea with a drop of sunlight on the velvet. The spot of reflecting sunlight on the darker selvedge. The shore of fluffy black eye-lashes...
“An-naaaaa! Wake up! Where are you? Dimah, do something with her!”
Dimah shook my shoulders, asking not to go dying again.
“Drop dead!” I snarled. “I’m here! Still alive!”
“Thanks!” Kathe sighed. “Hope when you die I won’t be near you, unless the guilt never leaves me!”
Unexpected declaration. And this incredible girl was my best friend. Well, I wasn’t any better, dreaming of a guy that was already in Leuce’s arms. In my sight Leuce leaned to Philip and kissed him.
My jaws fell on the desk with an acute knock. Leuce immediately left Philip and turned to me, furious lightnings in her eyes.
“Oops!” I said.
Philip grinned and I understood there was something else to be said.
“Sorry!” Kathe hissed from under the desk, chuckling.
“Sorry!” I repeated with the widest of my smiles. “Go on!” I added.
Kathe burst out chuckling again. Leuce moved away from Philip, showing the greatest insult of her life. I got lost – what was wrong?
“The last advice was redundant!” Alex explained indifferently and went on romping with his device.
“Twenty points to Hannah!” Kathe laughed out, climbing from under the desk. “Leuce is gonna have you fried!”
“I just suggested her to go on!” I got upset.
Kathe fell under the desk again.
Another portion of her laughter didn’t follow – the lecturer arrived. We rose on our sits, saluting him. The first rows, occupied by members of his fanclub stayed standing. A dissonant choir of female voices proclaimed:
“Happy birthday, dear Valerie Alexandrovich! Happy birthday!”
“Thanks, girls, very nice of you!” he blossomed out with a smile and turned to the board to write the subject of the lecture.
“We wish you long years of prosperity, happiness in your private life, greatest achievements in science and your hobbies! We wish you to stay this beautiful, smart and clever for the rest of your life and to startle your ill-wishers with solid health!” they continued.
Than Mary and Tany parted from the main group, walked to the board with a bunch of flowers and presented it to poor teacher. He was redder than a boiled crawfish, muttering some words of gratitude.
It was not the end, not at all. Two more girls unrolled a paper and attached a gigantic poster to the board. Kathe and I exchanged shocked looks and synchronously slipped down the sit, nearly suffocated with laughter, escaping through clenched teeth.
Valerie’s merry face smiled to us from the vast of the poster. Big inscription under the picture said “The best teacher in the world!”
“Shoot!” I whispered to Kathe’s ear. “I haven’t expected this bluntness from twins!”
Poor teacher. He was going to vanish from shame.
“Thanks girls!” he said, finally recollected “But, please... please... take it away and go to your places!”
Girls obeyed and in four minutes normal routine was restored.
No matter how I disliked him and his manner to behave, but he seemed to improve his lecturing skills. I opened my notebook and thoroughly recorded formulas and reactions. Kathe cast puzzled looks on me. Her notebook remained closed.
Philip and Leuce didn’t pay any attention at the lecture. They were all absorbed in each other. Reluctantly, I froze with my pen and turned into hearing. Not too nice of me, but couldn’t help being jealous.
“It was rather sudden of you!” Philip leaned to Leucy, wrapping her in velvet of his voice.
I held my breath.
“Let me be true with you! You stung me! I want you!”
Philip’s look got dark. The grin vanished from his lips. Things turned out too serious and he – most of everyone – realized it was a game no more. I was afraid he would sense my distant presence in their secret talk, but couldn’t move my head to turn away. It wasn’t just curiosity from my side. Damn it! Damn... Damn...
“You want... me? Or something from me?”” he asked.
“Something from you?” she didn’t get.
“Do you want me with everything I have? My imperfections? My virtues? My little shocking surprises?” he insisted.
Leuce’s smile faded away when she caught new intonations.
“Whatever you are?”
“Whatever I am!”
“I want you”, she proved.
“I’m afraid you don’t understand what you are asking for”, he sighed.
But the rock yielded under Leucy’s vigour. Unbelievable kindness appeared in his eyes. Calm sea... waves with golden edging... Lucky Leuce... Why didn’t he take me when I offered everything to him? Why did he taste my lips, not wanting anymore? Bet on, he had plenty of ready lips on his way... Mine – no difference with other.
“I understand, Philip, I see too much darkness in your eyes! But I still want you with everything you are!”
“I’ve been waiting... waiting for someone like you!” he whispered in her ear and covered her lips with his.
 
Chapter 5
Someone like You

I couldn’t stand the scene and turned away.
Kathe clapped my shoulder:
“Hope, they will be happy together, they seemed to be made for each other!”
“I like him” I confessed.
Kathe didn’t surprise.
“With your impossible ability to spoil everything? No chance, Baby Ann! No chance! And you didn’t even try!” she hinted on the awful scene in the cemetery.
I didn’t try? I?
Uhm, did I?
In fact, I’ve done everything to ruin any laying of our relationship. But yesterday... I was about to... But he didn’t want me. He asked fire from my lips and then – pushed me away. He himself didn’t want me and I couldn’t force him.
The situation went out of control and I didn’t realize where it was dragging me.
“Stinkers!” Dimah commented upon the action on the wooden sit.
Kathe touched his lips with her delicate finger and whispered in his ear something... well, it might have been something soothing, for Dimah’s cheeks turned red and eyes flashed with foretaste. He would get his portion of endearment later.
Somewhere in the middle of lecture Philip let Leuce go from his hug and left the lecture-hall. I returned to scratching in my notebook with doubled diligence, demonstrating my sincere interest in vitamins and their metabolism in the body. The board was already covered with formulas and schemes. In some time Valerie Alexandrovich captivated me in the cobwebs of biochem so that when he claimed the end of the lecture I uttered the same disappointed shriek that girls from his fanclub. Kathe threw her stuff in the handbag and gave to Dimah.
Alex and Dan turned off their devices and returned to reality.
Our small group descended to the bottom where Tany and Mary were waiting for us, exited. Kathe brushed by, alluring Dimah in a dark corner. Philip and Leuce were no more interested in the outer world. So Tany and Mary attacked me.
“Did you see it? He was happy! He smiled to us! It was fantastic! Great!” Mariah exploded.
“Brilliant!” Tany shined.
I looked at Valerie, sitting on the teacher’s chair. The bunch lay in front of him on the desk. No... he wasn’t too happy with congratulations. Some feeling, similar to sympathy moved in my heart – this guy whatever bringdown he was, didn’t deserve this.
“Ah” I answered.
Tany and Mary waited for continuation. I silenced, ransacking for proper words.
“Cool! You are lucky girls! That was surely... GREAT of yours! Splendid bunch... and uhm... splendid poster!”
This time they were satisfied. Mary even muttered something sort of “Baby Ann is curable”. Heaven blessed, it was the only attempt to bring down the idea of my insanity and it didn’t work. Tany cast an angry look on her twin-sister and they walked away, discussing sweet minutes of standing near their idol.
“Creepy!” Alex said when we left the lecture-hall.
Daniel turned to him, misunderstanding what caused such a reaction.
“Look at poor guy! He’s totally depressed with all the girly fuss around him. How don’t they see that the first one who leaves him in peace will be the most beautiful?”
“When have you become an expert on men’s feelings?” I asked, braking indoors.
“I am a man, Baby Ann! Of course, I know what happenes to him!” he said so confidently like if it was obvious without any doubts.
I nodded and asked:
“Then... what can you tell about Philip?”
“Philip? Nobillar?” Alex questioned.
“Yeah” I smiled “He’s sort of a man, too”.
Daniel seemed not to notice us at all. He played with his cell-phone again, unavailable for people around, and withdrew. Alex focused on him and answered:
“He’s in love, poor guy!”
“In love?” I went on inquiring. “With Leuce?”
“Leuce?” Alex got pensive. “Leuce? No, of course, not!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know... tricks about love is a girl’s area! May be, she is not beautiful enough for him... or mysterious. Who knows? Does it matter, Baby Ann?”
“I don’t know” I said truth. “But I think it’s interesting!”
“What?”
“Your ability to read other’s thoughts!”
He twisted his finger near the temple.
“Thoughts? Who said about thoughts? Feelings, they are in movements, in gestures, in postures... in looks... not in thoughts!” he said to me and rushed away.
His philosophical exercises could do favour to Andrew. As for me, I could hardly operate with such categories like feelings and thoughts, seeing no particular difference. In fact, Philip’s ones weren’t my trouble since now. He had Leuce to grasp with his demonicity and childhood complexes.
“Hello” the teacher was just leaving the hall when ran up against my sack.
I let him pass by. He lingered near me and asked:
“Not in my fanclub, are you?”
I opened my mouth to have a say and remained so, confused with his frankness. There was nothing to be said but truth – therefore I nodded, showing no upset about the fact. In his turn he granted me with a smile and dragged into the hall.
“Can you do me a favour?” he whispered.
Conspiracy? Cool! I turned into ears.
“Won’t you, please, hint somehow to the girls that I’m not too fond of... of.. the things...”
“Of too much fuss?”
He nodded enthusiastically and added:
“It won’t help anyway!”
“Are you occupied already?” I wondered, forgotten who he was.
“No” he shook his head “but I’m...”
My jaw was already used to falling in very sudden moments. This time I caught it falling and returned on its place before he noticed some strangeness in my face.
“Are you a....?”
“No!” he was indignant with my guesses “Of course not! I am not gay!”
I shrugged. There was nothing... bad with it. His sexual orientation was the last thing to care about. Still I couldn’t believe that this pretty guy squandered his beauty for men. It would be very unpleasant for Many and Tany, at first.
“This doesn’t matter in the end!” I said. “Not for me! So... is that all you want?”
“Yeah, please” he said. “In my turn, I’ll help you with an exam!”
No problem. At a drop of a hat. But who will listen to me? I was about to say that the bargain was unfair but he already vanished. Well, I’d do everything in my powers.
There was nobody in the corridor. I walked the empty passages, wondering if the classes had already begun. My classmates clustered near the closed door of the room, waiting for the teacher. I comforted myself on the floor with a manual and delved deeply in the text. After an interesting lecture the material in the book seemed chewed over. I didn’t even need to think over what was written – the lines packed themselves in my head into an organized piece of knowledge. May be, I should attend biochem instead of philosophy, in particular, now when the tension with Andrew was reaching the limits.
“Where is she gadding?” Daniel fell near me. “Bet my boots, she’s having a decent blah-blah-blah with her amiga!”
“Someone should go for the keys, may be!” I said.
“Alex has already gone!”
Nobody in his right mind could entrust Alex the keys, so poor assistant girl had to come on herself to unlock the door for us. I closed the manual and dragged to the door.
“I don’t know where she is. I think an hour ago... yes... she came and took her bunch of keys... may be, she’s out for some urgent affairs... can’t she?” the girl explained while unlocking the door. “You’re welcome guys, but try not to sp... Ahhhhhhhh!”
She uttered a dreadful shriek and fainted right on Philip’s arms.
We squeezed into the room all at once to see what made her react that way.
Another superhuman scream tore the academic silence. The doors to other classrooms flapped and swept open, dozens of feet rustled on the floor approaching the place of tragedy. Tany went on screaming, and we stopped up our ears, unable to stand the sound. I rushed to her to shut her mouth up, slipped and fell right in something viscous and sticky.
Red. Everything was red around me. I tried to stand up, but my hands and legs slided apart and I drowned again in the sea of red. It smelled with iron. I could see nothing, but blood. The world turned vague with red and it seemed to be closing in around me, squashing and grinding. I covered my face with shivering hands. They were in blood, too. It flew down my fingers, leaving dark stripes on my elbows.
Someone grasped me and dragged to the wall. I didn’t care about anything now... The madness was going to rule me over again, to have in her cage and never let go. So please, if she wants. Let me go... I’m tired... I’m too tired... I can’t go on anymore... Please...
With a superhuman effort I made myself open my eyes. The image was covered with a red vail, still – recognizable. Blurred silhouettes fussed in the room. Their voices, the same dimmed, were like buzzling, but Kathe’s whisper broke through and touched my hearing.
“Baby Ann! Can you hear me? Ann! Are you here?”
I nodded. My head moved like a separate part of me.
“Tutoress is dead” she said.
“Murdered” I clarified.
My consciousness returned back little by little. I could see everything clear – the dead body in the center of the room and my classmates, lined up near the wall. Save us, there was no one in the room, but Valerie Alexandrovich who sat near the dead body, grasping his head with clenched fists and cried.
She lay on the floor in a posture of an embryo. Her face was turned to the ceiling, eyes wide open in unexpressed question. Her hands comprssed the stomach – covering the wound that still bled. Long hair lay loosely on the floor – dense threads of pure gold, covered with a crust of blood.
I couldn’t stand the picture and closed my eyes. No tear escaped my eye-lashes, although I wanted to weep, to cry out pain that overwhelmed me. I didn’t have a right to disturb the silence by screaming – it belonged not to me, but to Valerie. His tears were femalish, woe in every drop. They shined lile crystals and fell, scattering in millions of motes. Such bitter tears could fell only about the one you loved too much and would pay thousand of lives to die instead. He took her pale fingers and kissed them, washing away the blood with tears. He held her hand like the greatest treasure in this cruel world, like if it was his last chance to survive, his remedy, his comfort.
And then – when time ceased, lingered and started again he breathed out, in a sound that broke down the silence and tore reality in two halfs – ‘was’ and ‘will be’. His beauty, so disgustingly pretty, faded as I watched his farewell. His face went pale and remote, his hands stopped trembling. He grasped her dead fingers in a spasm of resoluteness and let them off. They fell in the puddle of blood. He sealed her forehead with a last kiss and rose on his feet. His face got a weird expression of indifference as if it was not his beloved who just died. He mesmerized us all in turns with a sharp glare, and a frightful smile distorted his lineaments. I stopped breathing – so scary it was.
“Someone will pay for it” he said.
We kept silence, for there wasn’t a cue to this statement. I would be the last one to doubt in his readiness to revenge. Even Jacob wasn’t so firm in his will. Valerie would lay his life to chastice the murderer. He wasn’t anymore a pretty duck, but a man who had his word. I shivered – that must not have happened. Not with us. No with anyone else.
“It’s the second murder in our university for last month” Leuce said. She – unlike other girls in the room – looked confident and self-controlled. Bet on, it took her enormous power not to cry out, not to shed tears but stand so solid by Philip’s side. Even Philip, this strained demon, seemed a kindergarten nurse, when she pronounced words that spinned on everybody’s tongue. “Someone kills girls in our unversity!”
The door behind me suddenly shut up with a knock. I shrieked. Everyone turned to me.
Nine of us. Valerie. And the body. We were here altogether.
Like a pack of preys we weren’t aware the hunt already begun. At first site, there wasn’t any connection between two murders, except indirect Philip’s participation. Of course, no one knew about it. But I felt it – the connection. It seemed like the walls of a trap closed in, while we were fluttering in doubts and guesses. The hunter was clever and lucky, each victim advancing him to the main aim. But who was the aim? Who was the hunter? I felt the smell of blood on his hands, his wish to go on killing, because he liked it. His inborn desire to bloodshed broke out and no one dared to challenge him.
The hunter was near, closer and closer, in the finger’s touch. His nearness tickled my nerves and my safety. It was like playing with death itself, knowing that this death waits for someone else. Someone who you love. It was much more hurtful than dying yourself.
Who?.. Kathe? Leuce? Dimah? Philip?...
With the last name my heart sank... It resurfaced and began to beat again, but the pain didn’t pass. What if?..
“It must be someone... someone the same who killed Lisa!” Tany said.
The suspicion hang in the air.
“Who knew Lisa... and her!” Mariah poked in the body.
“Lisa?” Valerie asked. “Smothered girl?”
“It must be someone... someone...” Tany didn’t dare to make public the weird thought that spinned in the heads.
Valerie impended over her, waiting for answer.
“Someone of us” I answered for her. “It was someone of us... nine... she wanted to say!”
“No!” Tany cried out. Her protest wasn’t supported.
We turned out to be not a whole team but a number of isolated trembling figures. Mariah moved away from Tany, Alex stole glances at Daniel. Daniel, not comprehending what was going on, probed his hand and didn’t find. Kathe shrunk back from Dimah, covering her shamed face.
Only Leuce, loyal Leuce, brave Leuce still held the hand. And she wasn’t going to let it out ever.
Philip watched me, strained. No, you shouldn’t be afraid. Your secret is dead and sealed behind my lips. Even under the pain of death. Even under the pain of love.
“But who?” Valerie’s nostrils shivered, like if hound’s that traced the fox.
My heart ceased. The madness of life became no more a phrase but the state of routine. Like a plague it infected my classmates one by one. Insanity conquered up, swallowed up whole. And we wandered in the darkness of insanity, unable to find the way out.
It wasn’t because of Philip. No demon could do this harm to people. Whatever powerful he was. He couldn’t. This force above us was supernatural. We didn’t influence our own lives, not to mention ruling it. The choice for us was already done. We had only to protest vainly, just to weep in the end that we tried. But trying was not enough.
I closed my eyes and felt that my only path lead to the dismal end. I saw it ran downhill, to the hells where my sins waited for revenge. But I had’t done anything. I was innocent. I wanted to live...
“Who was it?” I asked, adressing to no one in particular.
“Someone like... like... someone like you!” Mariah pointed at Philip.
Philip stood deadpan – nothing concerned to him
“Nooooo!” Leuce implored and fell on her knees, weighted down with despair. “Not him!”
Philip’s lips opened in a usual grin and he burst out laughing.
Laughing...

Philip was placed in an empty classroom and locked till the arrival of police. Leuce like a devoted wife mourned near the door and demanded to set him free. Valerie refused to listen to her, saying that if police finds nothing Philip can go wherever he wishes. Philip in his turn didn’t protest. He barely said a word. He just caressed Leuce’s hair, kissed her nose and disappeared behind the locked door.
I was also praised with a look. Pure scorn. Well, I didn’t mind it. There was plenty to think over, and Philip’s charge was the last thing in the list. Firstly, I wanted to figure out who else could commit the crime.
Thus I let Leuce shed tears upon Philip’s martyr fate.
Police found nothing. Not just nothing that could witness against Philip, but nothing at all. Save the body and the lake of red on the floor. No knife, no traces of fighting. Like in Lisa’s case, the murderer and the victim were acquainted. Tutoress trusted the killer so that she easily turned her back to him. The first stab drove right between her shovels. The murderer made two more stabs in her stomach when she tried to run away. Then he took the keys, locked the classroom and walked away.
Nobody heard a sound.
Detective Scholman met me like an old friend, shook my hand and asked me mainly what happened. I didn’t please him with answers: closed door, assistant girl in a dead faint, puddle of blood, dead tutoress. Everyone said the same things, but he went on interrogating me, extracting some insignificant information.
The most interest was caused by episode with my midnight death. I told everything sincerely and only afterwards realized I was testifying against Philip. The sleuth was unlikely to understand the whole theme with demonicity, other explanations, more acceptable for him, I didn’t have.
“You woke up in the night, suffocating?” he asked, making notes.
“No, I didn’t wake up. I was dying and Philip tried to rescue me! Respiration and other... things!” I explained.
But my words didn’t mean to him what they meant to me.
“Aha... do you usually die at night?”
I didn’t get the question and asked to repeat.
“Do you have a habit to die at night? Twice or thrice in a week?”
“No, of course not! Why are you asking such an idiocy?”
He closed his notes and focused his look, covered with glasses, on me.
“Why were you then dying last night? Decided to vary your boring existence?”
“Do you want to say Philip wanted to kill me?” I frowned.
One more grain on the scale of Philip’s guilt. Katherinah was right - I’d spoilt everything with a lightest breath. Detective Scholmann left me alone to think over the situation. I couldn’t believe in Philip’s malicious intents. I would readily believe that I killed the tutoress by myself not that about Philip.
The deal was that I was going to believe any nonsense that discharged Philip. Anything, even demonicity that no one ever saw with his eyes. Any supernatural gibberish.
Even without my testimonies there was plenty to call Philip a number one suspect. Mariah recalled that during the lecture Philip was away for some obscure reason. This time detective Scholmann paid attention to her words, because my own evidence about meeting Philip near the store-room appeared in a new light.
Nothing like these two murders happened in the university before he came, Mariah said. Nothing ever.
“So, please, detective Scholmann isolate him! Nobody wants to be the next!” she concluded.
But he seemed to hear her no more. His look aspired for the door where Philip, this famous spanish guy, was waiting. That intrigued him, of course. The aura of mystery that surrounded Philip perturbed him. There was something wrong with the guy. Detective’s natural intuition could prompt him that it was beyond his powers to control the situation.
I thought that any detective had this intuition, even such a nerd like Detective Scholmann. I didn’t like him, he provoked only contempt. But that was my subjective opinion that wouldn’t influence the inquest.
Half of the faculty gathered near the magic door when the sleuth entered the ‘prison’. We heard the key turning in the lock and immediately Tany and Leuce pressed their ears to the door, hoping to hear anything.
Kathe didn’t want to participate in the farce and dragged me and Dimah in the corner. There was nothing to sit on because our stuff was searched through. We didn’t object, each one sure it was not him who killed. And I knew. This feeling might have been given to me as a last fairy charity. Thanks.
“Who could pretend it was him... He was such a pretty guy! So nice!” Dimah complained.
Kathe didn’t answer, trying to keep balance on her hunkers.
“It wasn’t him” I said.
“And I don’t surprise! When everyone says he’s innocent you object! When everyone says he’s guilty you object again! When will you agree?” Dimah asked.
“May be it’s not everyone who’s right!” I shook my head.
“But who?” Kathe fell on her bum and decided to take part in the talk.
I shrugged. If I knew.
“Here you see! I know that the guy decieved us al... well, save Anny, but now when we already can see what he is, why do we still doubt?” she asked.
“I don’t doubt! I’m for him!”
“I don’t want to bust up with you, Baby Ann, but as long as you are going to defend the killer, I will keep off you!” she said.
“Oh, please, Kathe!” I snarled. “It’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it? Any small problem and you’re already running for your dearest Dimah! This habit to leave friends in trouble is new for you. Who have taught you this thinga? Dimah? But who taught him? I’m fed up with you, feigning a world’s justice! You’re nothing at all. You see what your eyes want to see and you believe in any bullshit you hear! You’re not a bit of a friend! Outcasting someone, ignoring... it’s the best way to enjoy your life! But I’d better feed the worms then have such a life of mine!”
Kathe watched me, shocked. I didn’t care anymore. I said the truth from beginning to end. Not a word of lie. How long will she pose as a judge if she doesn’t even know what life is indeed? She barely saw people suffer under her nose – Leuce with her last strength fighting for love, Tany and Mary tensed and unhappy. Everyone, whether he believed in Philip’s guilt, or not, hid in his corner, like a beaten dog, suspecting everybody to be a murderer. Kathe, only this flower girl, didn’t notice that things weren’t anymore sweet and pretty. Furtive and weird, at least.
I went to Leuce. She writhed near the door, her eyes red with fallen tears. One moment, one careless word and her stone shell broke to dust and she fell out of it, tortured and weak. Leuce in love, Leuce fighting for her darling wasn’t the kinky drunk girl I knew. Now she needed someone to take care of her. Why Philip, Leuce? Why this guy who never loves anyone? He doesn’t deserve you, my girl. Why?
I knew I wasn’t consistent. Once I considered him unworthy it, then I changed my mind and praised him like a god. This ambivalence tore me apart as if I tried to recognize two different persons at a time. Who was he for me? Why wasn’t love so clear with me, like it was with Leuce? Why did it blind me and entangled everything for me? I needed someone to tell me the answers, I couldn’t figure them out by myself. Philip cost me too dear, too many things I appreciated. I couldn’t overcome his magic and his calling.
Damn! Why? Why? Why?
I was about to cry it out – loud and broken. But I shut up my mouth and faked a sympathetic smile. Leuce sniffed and more tears appeared on her eyes. I pressed her head to my chest, wishing that this feeble caress would encourage her a little. Her warm breath touched my skin – second by second she calmed down. People carefully avoided us – Leu, defending the slayer, was not any better than a plague infected. There was the only who suggested support to her – because I knew like no one else what it was like to be left alone, in the darkest hours.
The tears in her eyes when Philip disappeared behind the door were unforgettable. Like if he was going to the execution without her last word.
As for other students, the further I moved, the more I despised them for duplicity. A day before Philip was their god, now – they would be the first to burn him down. How pitiful they were – afraid and hateful at the same time. They claimed Philip to be punished, to be executed. And watched the closed door with terror, as if Philip would attack them suddenly and slay, slay! They coiled in corners, trembled – ready preys, fried and served on the porcelain plate. They smelled with fear, this disgusting ordour that turned persons in swine.
A minute ago the danger was unclear and invisible, and with Mariah’s serve they discovered the hunter. He is caught, I wanted to say, no danger anymore. Breathe with reliefe, if you are so quick to judge. But why are you so scared than? Why are you trembling?
No, things weren’t so easy. The hunter they got was much more stronger than the herd of swine altogether. He mocked at their fears and enjoyed their hatred. Even locked behind the door, surrounded by police officers he seemed dangerous to them. They wouldn’t quiet down until he’s dead. None of them will feel safe until he’s gone forever.
Madness of life covered them and tided away. And while Leuce was fluttering to ashore, they drowned in this madness without resistance. Even me, too tired for action and reaction, objected when this wave dragged me down to the bottom. It was unbearble to see that with this crowd of cretins my friends were drowning too.
This was their own choice. I couldn’t help Kathe when she didn’t ask for help. Drowning wasn’t too terrible for her because there was Dimah’s hand in her hand. Tany and Mary... Mary was the first to charge Philip, but now her face was gloomy and sorrowful. She sat on the chair, spaced out, unseeing; the veil of thoughts covered her eyes.
One more person who didn’t act like others – that gave hopes. Plus two more members in our ‘Undecided club’ – Daniel and Alex who were used that someone else thought for them.
The sleuths went through our stuff and found nothing worthwhile. Philip’s sack contained only a pile of copy-books, an album for sketches and a set of pencils. The sacks and bags were returned to their owners. Philip’s sack was placed near me, entrusted either to me or to Leuce that still didn’t notice anything around her.
The curiosity was born before me. I took the moment while nobody was watching.
The records in his copy-book were perfect. Ideal hand-writing (did he pass the courses of calligraphy?) created ideal lines. There was nothing excess. No funny pictures painted with bored hand on the fourth hour of the class. No sarcastic marks on the margins about looks of teachers, their words. No messages to Alex or Dan about boyish stuff.
No trace of his identity was left in the copybooks. Faceless formulas and reactions – the same rubbish inhabited my own notes. But above it, it was my own world with rumours, ideas, verses and inscriptions. Kathe painted cartoons upon her classmates and – now and then – on teachers. Alex and Dan played ‘sea fight’ game and forgot to tear the sheets away. Leuce’s pages were covered with phone numbers.
Philip’s copybooks were dead... like his empty flat. Even the flat wasn’t this deserted after our yesterday invasion.
When I was about to put the copybooks back to the sack I found something interesting. It was written on the last page of his laboratory copybook.
Todas las rosas son blancas,
tan blancas como mi pena,
y no son las rosas blancas,
que nevado sobre ellas.
 “Is it his verses?” Leuce looked at me, with an open copybook on my knees.
I smiled. Poor girl. Love ruined her confidence to ashes. Now she was nothing but a poor reminiscence of old Leuce, the girl with sparkling eyes and teasing smile. There was nothing personal left in her, she’d surrendered herself to Philip totally. She dared to give everything and she deserved Philip, another Philip, not a demon with Garcia Lorca’s verses in his copybooks. She deserved love.
“No. This is Federico Garcia Lorca”.
“What?” she wasn’t an admirer of spanish poetry.
“Cancion otonal! Autumn song!”
All roses are white today
Like pain that walks on my way...
“What’s going on, here?” thunder voice broke through my declamation. I froze.
Philip threatened over me. We didn’t notice him come and he caught us napping. He snatched the copybook from my hand and mesemrized me – personally. I was lost what to say, no proper excuse on my tongue.
“We’ve packed your things after the search” Leuce succoured me.
“We?” he defined.
“We!” I rose on my feet to meet him on equals. Thus he didn’t dominate over me and I wasn’t that ashamed of rummaging in his stuff.
“What have you found else in my things?” he stopped me when I was ready to escape.
“Nothing interesting” I looked at his hand. God knows what prevented him from giving me a blow. May be the audience, that followed every his movement.
“Nothing at all?” he squeezed through his teeth.
“There’s nothing interesting in your copybooks, be sure!”
“Copybooks... sure...”
He let me go. I helped Leuce to stand up and gave her the sack. Philip wasn’t going to linger in the university today. He took Leuce’s sack and walked her, absolutely downhilled, to the exit. Everyone followed them in silence. The hunter had escaped this time.
Detective Scholmann walked out of the room. My classmates wanted to ask, but I was the only one who dared.
“I can’t arrest him only because he visited boy’s room during the lecture!”
A displeaded hiss filled the halls. Dozens of eyes winced in the same expression of malice. Detective Scholmann was blacklisted from this on. Blockhead, I heard from Helen, the head student of the faculty. Well, she is as good in labeling people as in creating stupid recommendations. Let her enjoy her own personal idiocy. It’s not prohibited.
But healthless in big doses.
“He’s innocent, isn’t he?” I asked detective Scholmann when the crowd with its cockroaches was left behind.
“Why are you so sure?” he wondered. “You weren’t so confident about him before”.
“I crossed my mind”.
“That’s too easy of you. My profession doesn’t allow me to be so light-minded. Either believe, or leave. You can’t have it both ways. Lives don’t depend on your doubts, when I have to weigh every single grain of indecision. If you just imagined how many nights I spent, blaming myself for having been too trustful, or on the contrary – too strict”.
“If you just imagined how much I would pay for being confident of myself, just once in a lifetime not to have any doubts at all. To be solid!” I said.
“Weren’t you when visited me at the office? That time it cost me a printer and a lamp!”
He didn’t mind what he said. We walked outdoors and stopped under the porch. Autumn rain was merciless. Detective observed the parking.
“Some girl of yours told me Philip had a megacar! But here’s nothing striking!”
“He left it home. We all arrived in Leuce’s car!”
“All?” he wondered.
“Fuf, yeah. Nine of us!” I grinned.
“I hope it was a bus” he said, deuces in his eyes. “Well, I won’t tell anyone you’ve cheated. Should I give you a lift to the station? I saw that your preferances don’t usually coincide with those of your buddies!”
“No thanks. I think I need some solitude! I’ll walk! Rain is trifles.”
He was about to farewell, when I stopped him.
“You didn’t answer the question. Do you think he is innocent?”
“Anna. When did you see his face last? Can he be innocent?”
“You know what I’m asking about. What’s the deal with his face?”
I blocked his way to the car. Whether he asnwers, or he will have to share the walk with me, until he does.
“I’m not a great psychologist. He’s not innocent of course, not a dime. But he’s neither guilty”.
That was the answer that concurred with my own thoughts. I moved away. He shook his head and climbed into the car. I watched him slowly turn around and drive away. Students leaped out of the porch, ran to the cars and vanished from the parking. Those who had no car rushed to the bus-stop to shelter from the rain.
In some minutes I was left alone in the deserted yard. The rain fell on my face and flew down. I became wet throughout. It was soothing – the touch of cold to my hot skin. It revealed pleasant memories from my childhood, reminded of my homeland – a small island under the veil of rains and storms. Splashing sea with sheep of foam. Chanting choir of winter winds, knocking in the windows...

Juls was the last one I wanted to meet today. She somehow felt my mood and didn’t appear from her room. I threw my wet shoes in the corner and fell on the floor near the door. One more step and I’ll crumble into ashes.
If I could spend my lifetime lying in such a posture, I would do, without any doubt. But my pullover got stuck to my back and smelled with dirt and grass. The hunger that was lurking somewhere suddenly attacked me. I crawled to the fridge and swept it open.
Juls overdid it. The shelves were heaped up with wurst. Milky wurst, smoked wurst, brandy wurst, greasy wurst, dry wurst, saveloy... Lonesome pack of cereals ruffled up in the bottom of the fridge. I closed it not to get mad with this wurst rage and propped it up with my back, just in case some wurst would like to escape.
Fortunately, my stomach was so shocked with this abundance that didn’t display any signs of hunger anymore.
In was dark and fresh in my room. I forgot to close the balcony door and the cool air filled the room. It possessed an elusive odour of Autumn - a mixture of rotten leaves and ground. It caressed the nostrils and cooled down blood. The sound of the rain outside was a charming tune.
No one cursed anyone. No one blamed and charged. There was a sort of silence I yearned so much for my soul. Rhythmic rustling of the rain lulled me and I had to fight hard with the slumber while was getting undressed.
The least of all I wanted to think about Philip. But it was impossible. On and on, my mind analyzed the situation and didn’t get to any firm conclusion. I knew I had done nothing to be hated for and rejected, but it was his choice to be fair or unfair to me. He treated me like I was his personal enemy. I wasn’t guilty in my sudden death, all the more not in tutoress’ murder. But the further we went the more he hated me. Me! When I fell on my knees and pled for him, yelled for his favours...
I gave up my pride for his lure. I gave up my nature. I was ready to sip darkness from him, to make his burden my own, if he shared. But he chose Leuce.
I was about to give him everything if he asked. People treated him unfair and he locked in himslef, defending. If he just had someone to defend...
He has Leuce, I reminded myself. Leuce won’t let him be offended. My deal isn’t around him anymore. The die is cast and I’ve lost. New game... new rules...
Let it be so.
“No, Anny, you are not going to fall asleep!” Jul’s voice interrupted my sweet slumber.
She pulled the blanket from me and I huddled up. She sat right on my leg and asked what had happened. I didn’t want to describe today’s events so I advised her to turn on the TV-set and entertain herself. There was so much poison in my words that she strained.
“What’s happened, Anny? You are gadding about somewhere and come home only to spend a night. Moreover, yesterday you didn’t even blow in home! Where have you been?”
“At Philip’s!” I said.
“Killer’s?”
“Uhm” I said.
Julia examined me for first symptoms of insanity.
“Cool. What were you doing there? Searched for evidence?”
If I told her what I did at Philip’s, she would call the ambulance at the moment. So I created some fig offhand about introduction in enemy’s party to find out certain details. I described colourfully how I feigned remorse and self-ashame that Philip immediately opened his hug for me. My story sounded credible but Jul’s face grew darker and darker with every word. In the end, I narrated how we got out of the car and, despite my expectations, recieved no merry smile at all.
“Aha” she said. “Either Philip was a complete idiot when believed you, or you want me to be a complete idiot if think that I believe! Will you tell me the truth?”
“No, hundred percent!”
“Okay... what then do I have to watch on the TV?”
Piffle was enough for today. Beginning with Philip’s absence on the lecture I portrayed the events, not losing a detail. Juls was no worse in asking questions than detective Scholmann so I didn’t want to waste time afterwards, specifying the points. Juls was already pretending herself a great sleuth that would disclose the murder.
Whatever she lied, I saw the collection of whodunits in her computer.
She was silent long after I finished the narration. Calculating something in her mind, she paid no attention I was waiting for her to leave me sleep. I pulled the blanket on my chin, showing I had my spare time.
With a harsh jerk she pulled it off me.
“That is, of course, too unpleasant and bitter, but I don’t want another dead body on my poor head. So, Anny, please, I’ll come home in seven, get dressed till this time and wait for me. We’ll be partying out tonight!”
“Noooooo!” I hid under the blanket.
“Yeaaaaah. If you don’t have a little fun, the skin will peel off and you’ll become a skeleton. Look at yourself. Even in Hades they don’t admit such crips!”
  I suddenly understood I didn’t want to onject. There wasn’t enough strength in me. May be, Juls was right. One night out wouldn’t be harmful. I should really go to dispel my melancholy. Where is the girl that used to enjoy every moment of life?
Bet on, she lingered somewhere in the first day of september... in the eyes of guy in orange T-shirt.
 
Chapter 6
Fly or die

“And, please, Anny, no troubles this time!” Julia warned me.
I nodded. She grabbed Mike and vanished to appear in some minutes near the counter. To have a drink for speeding up. I spinned near the mirror, checking my looks from hair to flats. Everything was on its place, but I adjusted every single hair, smoothed the jeans and contnued the examination. There was no particular person to try so hard for. I just bought time, lingering near the mirror.
I spent the rest of the day, persuading myself, that one night out would be no harm. On one argument pro I found a heap of contras, each of them as stupid as my whole attitude to the suggestion. There wasn’t any adequate reason to miss the party. Juls didn’t care there was anyone smothered, killed, were it millions or one person. I resigned. After some funny minutes of getting dressed under Juls’ supervision I realized it amused me too much. And, I told myself, certain portion of heavy music would be useful for my legs.
Dancing... huh...
My determination evaporated when I found out where Mike drove us to. This hot spot was hitlisted long ago for me. I couldn’t help trembling. The view of the parking so deserted and dark cast gloomy memories on me. And the first of them was about my own idiocy.
Nevertheless, Julia’s choice was plain. ‘El paraiso’ maintained its reputation of the coolest rock-club for ages and it already became a symbol of politeness to visit it from time to time. Sometimes interesting gigs were held in the club, but, save them, every party turned in a vulgar demonstration of dresses and boyfriends. I had neither first, no second and could hardly participate in this fest of life. Not that I wanted too much.
Surely, I wasn’t ever a great fan of ‘El paraiso’. Divided in two parts – a cocktail bar and the dance floor – it was like Europe and Asia in one flask. A cocktail bar was on the upper level – a favourite place of glamourous lads with quotes from popular magazines instead of human speech. Such girls wasted their whole day to make up and get dressed for the party because every detail of their attire would be thoroughly duscussed and valued. After the valuation they decided whether you were deserving to be admitted in their company. The members of the closed club company could freely gossip and mock at those who didn’t deserve.
Juls, whatever poisonous she was about these clubs, strolled somewhere on the upper level.
The guests of the dance-floor were guys, plain in all meanings. Students, managers, big bosses, metallers and pop-stars crowded in one big flock, where you couldn’t distinguish a woman from a man. Actually, it didn’t matter. The greastest success was to keep balance when your legs slided apart in the puddles of beer and to dance with a splinter in your heel. Chaos was an essential part of ‘El paraiso’ party with dead drunks and couples in rum motions. For lowlanders there was a special bar with beer and vodka – no snotty pink cocktails of zero alcohol degree in your glass.
When you were fed up with life you should have gone to ‘El paraiso’ to have a brainwash. They knew what the fest was. For an appropriate cash they could easily teach you life.
As for me, I didn’t need any brainwashing. My life was already a chaos in a bedlam.
A security guy watched my spinning with increasing surprise. I was about to fail in my firm intention to attract less attention. I faked a sweet smile and slipped by him to the dance-hall. Well, sink or swim, I decided, and dove into the crowd.
The things used to go on in a circle in the club. Everything was like in my last visit. People around me were no more people but raging bears. A well-known Russian metal-band ignited the dancers with brisk song about invasion of green men. The dance floor shook and slipped from under the feet so I had to gripe the nearest guy by sleeve. He put me on my feet and disappeared in the throng without saying a word.
The musical qualities of the song left more to aspire, but my ears got used to the rhythm in a minute and my legs began to tap.
‘When the green men landed
When the green men landed
The beer ended
They had fly away’.
The lyrics bosh imparted new atmosphere in the song. It was a symbol of the party – mockery at boredom and sanity. An operator of miling machine Vasya went to the shop for a drink to freshen the nip and dicovered that an extraterrestrial ship landed near the pub. The green men were planning to rob the supplies of the beer in the entire city. Udarnik Vasya couldn’t allow the crime be committed and annihilated remainders of beer by himself. Nothing was left for mean aliens who had to depart empty-handed.
The last verse was fully about Vasya cocking a snook to poor green lads.
As I saw, few people were interested in mishaps of the beer in an unknown city. But those who listened to the lyrics, supported Vasya in his beer-rescuing undertakings. At the counter two absolutely drunk metallers toasted for ‘Beer neverending!’ and ‘No beer for green mugs!’ The barman barely nicked to sell cans to them. I comforted myself on the high seat at the counter and examined the card for a suitable drink. Beer. Beer. Beer. Beer.
Shoot! Sheer beer!
Fuf, vodka also. No better.
“Can I help you?” the barman pronounced the greatest sales mistake in the universe.
My first thought was to refuse the help. But what for? Isn’t it his work to suggest me a drink?
“I think I want something without beer and vodka!” I said.
He mesmerized me with interest and then poked in the card. “Beer and vodka. Slight drinks on the upper level”.
“Do I have to rush from here to there just to get a proper drink?”
“It depends on what you want to get!” he talked riddles.
“But I don’t know what I want! I thought you would help me!”
“Well, are you going to turn off the brains? To make them work like never before? To fall in love today? To break up? To fly? To dive?”
“Uhmmm” I answered in brief.
He understood me perfectly. His deft hand picked a little bottle from the cupboard. Two drops of the green syrup fell in a pony. He let me smell it.
“Absinth?” I got disappointed.
I had been waiting for something more brilliant. Absinth was dangerous and furtive but I’d already met with this seducer before... Too many times before. Philip’s eyes... crust of frost... I rejected this variant. But the barman presented me a conspiratorial smile and filled the pony with a viscid amber fluid.
“What is it?” I followed the process with suspicion.
“Mead. Absinth strikes down your brains and mead cancelles your body working”, he explained and fired the mixture.
It flared up with a spectacular flash so that those who remained near the bar vanished immediately. The barman handled me the pony and smiled:
“Try to keep standing, darling! Nobody managed before!”
I paid for the drink and sailed away to the billiard room to enjoy it in the darkness, preferably alone. There was only a small group of billiard fans, who liked the game more than dancing. They poked into the balls, totally absorbed in the process. I sat in the distant corner and relaxed.
The pony was still hot. Two snakes of syrups – gloomy green and optimistic yellow whirled in a cup, interlacing and creating different patterns. The motion didn’t cease as I watched it and the pony didn’t get cold. I warmed my fingers with it. The barman didn’t promise me anything but I was already foretasting the oblivion that the drink would cause. Already now, when I didn’t have a sip yet, its perfect dance charmed me.
The figures in the pony appeared and vanished. The odour changed with the image – it was a castle with herbal and vanilla ice-cream notes. A minute later the castle turned into a dragon and flew away, touching my nose with the scent of linden and lemon. One more minute and I heard its voice, an inimitable tune of the sweet poison in a glass flask.
“Hum, I’ve forgotten to tell you, that the sooner you drink it, the safer will be!” the barman leaned over me and moved my hand closer to the mouth.
“Don’t disturb me!” I got angry.
“Watch out! It begins to sing to you and then... you find yourself almost dead! Well, we find you almost dead!” he warned me.
I waited until he left me alone and knocked the drink back.
Nothing changed. It seemed there was no absinth and no mead at all. Pure water, that slipped down my throat and made no sense. I felt as brisk and sober as before. I walked to the counter to claim the complaints.
“Nothing happened!” I climbed on the chair again and put the empty pony in front of the barman.
He watched me with pity and said nothing. I waited that he would pour something more valuable in a pony but he gave me a glass of still water and showed the way to the girl’s room. I ignored the water and went to dance.
This time a song was about a girl who loved a boy. Not a new plot, but both the boy and the girl were the inhabitants of Kashenko and met each other on the usual morning motion. The problem was that she considered herself to be a spoon, when he was pretending himself an i-pod. A weird match... Poor guys.
The song was slow and romantic and the twosomes came out to sway. I picked up the nearest metaller and he, without any protest, swung me near the stage. My dance-partner, if the swaying could be called a dance, might have been an admirer of absinth. While his face showed no traces of intellect, his movements were rather confident. May be, if he was more sober, he could give me a real dance-journey from salsa to waltz and – of course – not in ‘El Pariso’. But what we had – it was enough.
Bet on, he didn’t even notice he was dancing with a girl. When the song finished I walked poor guy to his former place and went on dancing again. There followed another six-song session about Vasya. The guys crowded on the dance-floor.
I leaned on the column to have a breath. People organized a round dance and jumped merrily around me like native cannibals around a frying prey. In the carousel I suddenly noticed familiar raven-haired head.
My heart sank. He was the last I expected to meet today. I wanted this night to be less painful than others I was going to live through. Without any hope, without a chance to have him near. How can the destiny be so cruel to me?
I peered into the merry-go-round and saw nothing, but dozens of raging silhouttes under the splashings of light. There wasn’t any Philip. I’d mistaken.
I joined the dancing circle, trying to erase the memories.
Philip’a head appeared two steps from mine. He shined a smile and the roundel carried him away. He is here, I thought hopefully. If he’s without Leuce I can have a talk with him, I can clear things out... I watched every guy to find a familiar face but didn’t succeed. May be, he just didn’t want to see me. May be, he hid away.
Philip? Hid away? From me?
Don’t be a cretin, Anna.
I snatched out of the crowd and sat on the free chair near the wall. Philip surfaced near me with an unknown girl underarm. I raised my eye-brows but he passed by me, not recognizing. I stood up to say hello and stopped frozen.
Philip dumped out of the mad roundel and walked to the bar. I made my way through the dancers to him. One more Philip blocked my way and tried to involve in the dance. Absently, I moved him away. There wasn’t my Philip at the bar. An indifferent manager in a tie settled for another beer-bottle. I shrunk back and looked around.
Oh, mother!
Philip was on the stange, torturing his guitar. Philip opened bottles at the counter. Dozens of Philips got ready for another wild song-session. These Philips had dozens of different girls in their hugs. All of these Philips were in orange T-shirts, in classic jeans and with the same copper bangles on the left wrists.
They all were Philips and – of course - they weren’t at the same time. Bad forgery, models with phony smiles and forced mystery – I was getting sick with the performance. There must be one genuine Philip Nobillar. The only One in this batch of Chinese shoes.
I strolled in the club, like a ghost. People’s raging around me became insignificant and mean-spirited. I was a ship searching for the shore in the ocean of Philips. I was going down and nobody could rescue me.
Philip smiling, Philip drinking, Philip lying under the table.
Philip laughing, Philip kissing a girl. I uttered a short shriek and it went down in the fury of the party.
Philip singing some bullshit. Philip shouting ‘altogether’ in the microphone. Philip all around me, enldess Philip.
I almost fell on the counter and stared on the barman. No, it was another Philip in an orange T-shirt with a glass of water in his hand. I understood completely that he was a barman, just barman, nothing to care about, but this body and this seducing look... They were the same with what I saw every day and every night in my dreams.
It was Philip somehow. And barman – somehow, too.
“Oh, are you still here?” he asked and the charms blew over. He was Philip no more. It made the talk easier. “Didn’t it work?”
He cast a bemused look at the flask with absinth, as if doubting upon its fitness. I nodded ardently.
“Don’t you have anything to stop it?”
“What?” he examined me for visible symptoms of the mixture working.
“It worked well. Now I need something to be normal again!” I breathed out hard when a pack of Philips demanded the barman for three bottles of vodka.
The barman supplied the drunkards with the ‘fire fluid’ and turned to me.
“I see plenty of Philips around me. That doesn’t bring sense to me. This downhills me!” I pled. “Give me something... oh... normalizing... please!”
“Plenty of Philips?” he grinned uncomprehending and turned Philip-orange again. “Household devices?”
“No!” I squeezed, chocking with tears. “Philip... he’s my best friend... somehow... he was...”
He nodded.
“You see!” I whispered fearfully. “Even you are Philip-like... everyone acts like him. Talks like him... looks like him! Dozens of identical guys around me... I’m going mad”.
“I am that... Philip too, aren’t I?” he wondered, keeping hard from laughing.
“Yes!” I was going to cry. “He-eeeah-elp!”
He asked his colleague to replace him for some minutes. I hid my face on the counter, unable to watch this abundance of Philips. The barman took my hand and dragged away from the dance-floor, in the staff rooms. God bless we met no orange guys on our way.
He brought me to a beautifully decored room and fixed me on the sofa. I took off the flats and lay dying.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“It’s a lounge room. Although it’s forbidden, now and then the staff leaves here friends to have a rest during the party. Sometimes also we bring here drunks who fight and damage the property of the club. Stay here for a while until you feel alright! I’ll go and tell the lads to keep this room occupied. Ahm surely, you’re the first to react so! Guys after Panacea simply fell and didn’t act for some days. But after they woke up, things looked totally different for them...”
“Panacea?”
“Wait until the morning. World will be no complicated tomorrow!” he poured a glassful of water and gave to me. “I’ll visit you in half an hour!”
He locked the door and I was left alone. Loneliness didn’t bring any easiness. There were no Philips around me and it... disturbed me. My brain made trcicks with me. It revealed to me what I wanted most of all in this life – Philip, only Philip and nothing more. Things became vain when I stuck to being without him. How could I tell him that after all the mistakes I’d done I needed him? Would he believe me?
Huh.
May be the problem was in what we both were. I craved for him so much because I was a sort of a fairy and he – a sort of a demon. I wished to have my reversed side back, to be whole coin to value. He came so suddenly and meant so much in my existence that everything that was before him was nothing – surely nothing – but wasted time. Andrew with my nightmares, being caged in the remote island, being whatever I was... I would exchange my entire life for a short instance of belonging to him and possesing him in my turn. Bet on, someone above didn’t consider such a bargain fair. Is it little for you – whole life for an instance?
I counted his every kiss, I could recall to details his every touch. But that was one-side treaty. For him I was just another girl in the long row of millions – longing, pleading. I wasn’t experienced in any so I just had to watch how my dreams came true for someone else.
The greatness of dream is that its just a dream. What a bullshit! Who believes?
Going mad because of love – I’m turning into a heroine of a romance, fallen in love with a burglar who proves to be a nobel prince. My hero is neither a burglar, nor a prince. Whatever he is, I’ll accept everything...
Do you want me with everything I have? My imperfections? My virtues? My little shocking surprises? He asked.
Yes! Yes! Yeaaaaass...
The sound of unlocked door pulled me out of oblivion. Half an hour already? How fast! I stood up to see who came.
The glass fell out of my trembling hand. The newcomer didn’t stay calm either. I shrunk back and watched his face grew pale then red, then pale again. His boon-companions clustered behind him, peeping into the room, while their leader blocked the way. They could never understand why a girl mesmerized their comrade with such a scared look. With a light push he shut the door and we stayed face to face in the room.
Vague smell of liquor hung between us. I made a shy step back. He made a step too – four mines. I rested against the wall, having no way for retreat. He pushed my flats aside so that I couldn’t use them for defense. He approached, not moving, just leaning to me with his giant body. The odor of alcohol knocked me down and I winced.
He grinned bloodily. There was no doubt left – his former intetions were still actual. He was going to finish what he hadn’t finished before, no matter if the prey wasn’t going at all. This time, I read in his eyes, everything will be the way I want. Be a good girl.
I shook my head, showing no assent. He grinned again and stretched his beer-sticky hands to me. I probed the surface behind me – there was nothing to defend with. My fists would be no use in this unfair fight.
Oh, please, let the barman come.
As if in answer to my request, there came sounds from the door. The man fought his way to me through the group of drunk bulls... Please, one more effort.
“I need to come in!”
“No one will come in, until Thunder says!” was the asnwer, proved with a weak shriek of the barman.
Poor guy... I focused on my own danger that was one step from me, rubbing his hands with anticipation. No, I was going to sell my life and other things... expensive.
One instant with Philip, darling? Do you have such a treasure?
He attacked me, trying to grab my body with his thick arms. I coiled and twisted, hitting him with exact but harmless strikes. I’d escaped by a miracle that time, but now I ran out of miracles. No surprise in my pocket.
I waved my hands, trying not to open unprotected and to scratch out his eyes at the same time. One hard blow overtook me and I twitched, as my brains moved in my head. I was tiny and quick, compared to him, but he blocked my way with his hulk, unletting me to slip by. I rushed on the small spot, escaping his greedy pads.
For a short moment I noticed his defense weak. There was a chance for single blow, I should have gathered all my stregth in my fist and knocked him down – if it was ever possible. It was worth a try. I inhaled and drew my elbow behind for a better sweep.
My arm thrust in something hot. The splinters cascaded on us like a crystal rain. The guy got confused for a moment and I snatched away. My elbow burned hellishly, a laceration bled, some splinters of the broken mirror stuck into the edges. Every movement caused unbearable pain.
It didn’t matter. I rushed to the door and pulled it hard. It only shivered and groaned. The idiotic laughter came from outside. The shadow threatened over me and I turned to it, compressing a long splinter in my hand.
Thunder took out another part of the broken mirror. I grinned bitterly. Two-one to him. No chance. I slipped to the window and pulled it, hoping someone in the street would hear my screams.
“Are you going to fly away, birdy?” he asked softly, approaching with the splinter ready.
There was such madness in his eyes that I got it clearly – if he wanted to kill me, no morality and threat of punishment would stop him. Moreover, he wanted. He wanted to kill me.
No! I protested, bewildered. Two deaths for a day will be too much!
I lifted a heavy glass vase from the table. My enemy saw my effort and laughed. He thought I was a cooked chicken. Not that easy, darling... Another portion of splinters covered the fluffy carpet, as the vase flew in the window. One of them stuck into my bare foot and I screamed, unable to suffer anymore.
“Help! Help! Please! Help me! He’s killing me!”
He enraged and with a roar rushed to me. Seeing no alternative I climbed on the window-sill and dashed down in my last flight.
Now, Anny, fly or die.
 
Chapter 7
Whatever life brings

I spread my wings and strained my will. The fall wasn’t any free-like, implacable gravitation draw me down. The air that used to be so friendly, pushed me down too. I was falling from the fifth floor.
Whatever people said, it was endless.
I closed my eyes, ready for the parade of my life moments.
The sense of gravitation faded suddenly. Either I was dead, and the death was rather quick and merciful, or I wasn’t falling anymore but soaring. I opened my eyes and gasped. I was flying in a meter over the pavement with a furious speed - right into the refuse bin.
The hit wasn’t that hurtful it would be like, if I met with Mother Earth. I fell near the bin and raised a bump. Stupid stars flashed around my head in a merry circle, sparkling different colours. I probed my head to find more traces of damage – save the bump, everything was on its place. Not that about the rest of my body. It was like a puzzle falling in pieces. Blood seemed to be oozing from everywhere, like I was a holed-through plastic bag. I twitched in spasms of vomit as my body tried to figure out if it liked the portion in my stomach or not.
I didn’t want it out. So much money paid.
The reason returned to me little by little. I crawled to the parking and cocked up my head. The window where I fell from was lit. Silhouettes fussed there.
No, I shook my head, on the other side there is no more absinth delirium. Just millions of scars and a sweet opportunity to get an infection. Cool! Enough to be proud of myself...
My first intention was to take an axe and go, wish “Sweet goodnight!” to the Thunder. I was so much fed up with bull imbeciles, thinking that if I am small and weak I can be used throughout. The fear changed for fury. May be one more drink for courage and I’ll turn down heaven...
My blooded feet slided on the pavement and I hit the pavement with my chin. This accidental fall made me sober – I wasn’t going to cry for revege this time. Let it be on his conscience if he has any. I will now go home and heal my wounds.
It was rather easy to decide but not to fulfil. I pulled the splinter from my heel and made an effort to rise on my feet. The burning spread over my leg. The view of red liquid under my foot didn’t amuse me too much, but made me sick. I had to depart as soon as posible – in some minutes the guys would understand where to seek for the body and appear on the parking.
Still, crawling I won’t go far away from here – to the nearest corner at best. There wasn’t another leg available for speeding up. I sighed. Life treated me like a disobedient child, or a criminal. Where is my good cop?
I crawled to the bush to hole up there. Well, I was going to crawl when understood I couldn’t. I moved but remained on the same place. My arms rowed in the air, legs – sank in emptiness. There wasn’t pavement under me anymore.
That wasn’t like an ordinary sense of soaring in the skies. I hung in the air on all fours, like in the vacuum. The laws of gravitation spitted on me and repealed themselves. Well, if I was hallucianting, it was quite funny. Why don’t enjoy? I spread my hands and rocketed in the star-blinking vault.
I haven’t flied for ages, I thought. For millions of years. But here, in the highety, time became insignificant and remote. The skies were eternal, like the stars, like the endless jorney of the planet through the Universe. While I walked on the ground, I was just another forced passenger on the ship. When I rose to heaven, higher and higher, I could choose my own route and point of destination. Life with its stupid categories of time and space was a mere human composition. Here, above the world, time and space were nothing but words. Words in the end are not worth a breath.
In the view of humans there wasn’t life in the air.
Bet on, the birds didn’t mind it.
Neither did I. The skies with a spot of vague red-coloured moon brought soothing to my pains. The air, cold and humid, erased my fears and doubts. My wounds healed up while I floated with the wind... further and further. I watched how the wounds stopped bleeding, skinned over and only pink scars reminded of my adventures.
The pain vanished.
I lingered over the city. Moscow was again in full swing – sin city, covered with an impregnable crust of neon lights. From above she seemed to be lined with complicated patterns of crossroads, bound with three circles. The flashing chains of cars stretched on Leningradka highway in a usual traffic jam.
In the midnight life just was born, in three am it drew to a head and deadened to five. From five to six in the morning the streets were preparing for a new day – the street-cleaners set to work. In six o-clock the everyday routine began again.
Moscow never sleeps. Throughout the day she works hard, earning money to have them spent on midnight pleasures. When granny Europe already watches its twelvth dream, Moscow barely begins to celebrate. What do we celebrate? Life...
Life with its novelties, surprises, fortunes and sorrows.
Death with it inevitability and peace.
War when it skirts us.
Love when it comes around and when it leaves.
The fest cost too much. Moscow seemed to be a bottomless reservoir of money and lives. She devoured souls, swallowing them without chewing. If you dared to tame this impudent woman, should have been ready to pay much for your lucky chance.
Moscow, sacred core of Russia, was undiscovered and unconquereble. Ghost-city, dream-city. She was created by Russians for Russians only. The essence of our homeland, the soul of our nation was her origin. This girl was born freedom-loving, grew pretty baby and – skipped being a virgin – she turned into a lecherous bimbo.
“A diva with dirty underwear” I mumbled to myself.
“Diva? Where have you seen a diva?” a familiar voice broke into my reverie.
I gave a start and sank in the air. The sparkling points of cars suddenly began to approach, force of gravitation activated. I hoarsed and fluttered, trying to resist it. Someone caught me falling and tugged up. I winced from pain, my hand almost torn away from the joints.
“Eva! Shoot! Leave me be!”
I snatched away my hand and flied on a proper distance from Eve. She stared at me, a little bit confused.
“I thought you were wrecked!”
“If you didn’t interfere that way, I wouldn’t be that disoriented!” I snarled, soaring up higher to restore the balance.
“Disoriented? Ah, well, I see” she smiled, floating around me, like Tinker Bell. I tried to follow her flashing but then gave up this thankless business and drifted in the skies, pretending myself lying on a cloud. The moon lit me from above, not that powerful it was just yesterday, but still – rather ominous.
It captivated me, enchanted, lulled – whatever I called it, it ruled my body like it ruled Earth’s waters. It ruled my mind – I heard it weird calling. But as long as I self-restrained and self-controlled, it was nothing but a vague voice in my head, a slightest whisper, more of a breath.
But I heard it. What wondered me a lot, if Eva – fairy also – could hear it speak?
“How have you found me?” I asked instead of the question that burnt my tongue.
“Your traces linger in the sky. I saw the thread!”
“Ah, of course, your fairish tricks!” I nodded.
“That’s the deal. Do you see the Moon? It has never been so bloody, so weird, Anne! Full moon, Anne. Haven’t you noticed it?” she whispered, scared of something.
Her moods passed to me and I shivered from inner coldness. The Moon. What was wrong with it?
“Full Moon?” I asked. “What’s with it?”
“Don’t you see it, Anne? It’s RED!”
It sounded a sensation - like if she discovered that Earth is not round and it doesn’t move.
“Well, it’ not completely red. A little bit tinted!” I answered, rather sceptical about her fears.
Fuf, I amended when examined the sourcer. It’s not completely red, but it’s almost red. I had so many troubles around me that didn’t pay any attention to the Moon. But its colour. I could bet three lives, it wasn’t any red a night ago.
 “How does it concern to us?” I asked.
“It mourns, Anne. Look, it mourns. One more night and it will begin to shed tears!” she exclaimed.
Okay. And who is hallucinating?
But the simile was quite exact – the Moon was about to bleed with bloody tears.
“It’s about you, Anne. I came to warn you! When Moon bleeds its always about a fairy! This time its about you!”
“How did you know?” I didn’t believe.
“Of us twelve only you are standing on a loose ground. You fell in love with the demon. If you don’t restrain yourself, he will knock you down. A fairy can’t love, Anne, or you’ll lose your wings!” she said, her voice gentle, like a warm breeze.
“I am not a fairy!” I shook my head.
What’s about this argument then?
“You are! You are a keeper, no worse than I am. But I still don’t know what you keep. You too possess a power, but what is it about? I can feel it running through your veins, especially now! There is something weird happening. You are so experienced in flying, you’ve lost tonight the chains of gravitation. It’s the point of no return! If I just knew what you are about, I would help you, Anne!”
I smiled. This question didn’t leave me be. I drifted throughout life, not knowing where I belonged to. I aspired for skies, I chained to the ground. I stared at the stars – they were so luring, so beautiful, so close to touch. And then moved my glance on the sparkling highway under my feet: so much life there was. So much to explore.
“That’s it, Anne” Eva sighed “you can’t have it both ways”.

An open pathology text-book lay on my knees. I scrutinized the schemes in the page trying to remember main parameters of acid-base balance. The numbers in my head spinned chaotically while I made my best to systematize them. As it usually was, the text in the book was far from comprehensibe – term on the term, plus references on previous information.
Previous info. Huh. It was supposed to be stored in brains. Well, may be it was stored in mine... but in the safe with a code. The code was also stored in the same – closed – safe.
When I was about to lay it away, Juls dumped home. I lclosed the textbook with relief - now I could say with my heart honest that it was Julia who interfered with my studies.
In fact, it was very nice of Michael to carry her - her alcoholized organism refused to make any motions. Never before Julia got this dead drunk – littres of beer could pass through her body without doing any harm. I thanked Michael and, acting hospitable, I offered a cup of tea. He winced. I knew that he hated tea. He knew that I knew.
The calculation was obvious to both of us. I thanked him even thrice when he refused to stay with Julia tonight. When he went away I comforted Julia on her bed and made an attempt to undress her. She took me for Michael. Firstly she tried to enforce me to kiss her. When I began to pull the T-shirt off, she kicked me and snuffled she wasn’t ready for such a progress in their relations.
I was ready to kill her when she – after some confusion – confessed she was a virgin.
A cold shower worked sobering. I stuffed her in the bath, undressing and turned on the cold water. She uttered an indignant shriek. Her hands were so weak from alcohol that even if she wished (huh, of course she wished to have the torture over) she couldn’t protest. Julia only splashed inertly and squealed. The squeal didn’t deserve any mention.
After the shower she was rather silent. I checked – she breathed. I undressed her, wiped dry and dressed up in her pajamas. Like a lamb she climbed under the blanket and stared at me. The expression of her drunk eyes was so... fuf...
Trusting – that’s what it was.
I sighed. The whole atmosphere supposed that I would begin a fairy-tale. She waited. I scratched my head. There must be a princess. A dragon. A prince. Scene of action – a tower in a dark wood. Prince falls in love with princess. Princess is in the tower.
Non-fitments. How does prince fall in love with the girl if she’s in the tower? May be the plot was different. The dragon falls in love with princess. Spitting on biological incompatibility, it hides her in the tower. Princess... well... she remains in the tower. What does she do there?
For me, there wasn’t a variant “she couldn’t escape”. Any respectable girl could find a way out, of course if she’s not a total imbecile. So... what’s so good about the tower?
There is a good library, suppose it. She spends her sparetime with books. The dragon talks her into... what? Cohabitation? If it doesn’t have problems with socialization, it asks her to marry him. The girl doesn’t listen to him, because she is reading.
What do we have the prince for? Aha, he hunts dragons. That’s possible. He finds the tower and fights with dragon. He kills the dragon. The dragon kills the prince.
Anyway the princess keeps on reading in the library because anyone’s death doesn’t concern her anyhow.
My fairy-tale was lacking of romance, I understood. No. It was lacking of fairy-taility.
There was something un-fairytailish in my reasoning.
Reasoning, there’s too much reasoning. It’s a fairy-tale, not a chemical essay.
I smiled to Julia.
“Ahmm. Once upon a life time... yes... there was... uhm...uhm.. there was... were... was... will be?”
She stared at me like a baby that was about to burst out crying. I knew that beer made people act weird but not this far! It was not the beer. Not even her pink cocktail. It was even worse than vodka.
“There were three swine... Nuf-Nuf, Nih-Mih and... Fig-Fig... and they decided to built a house”...
My voice sounded like a lullaby, if not pay attention that the narrator fluffed and reasoned aloud. The fairy-tales appeared to be a set of statements, not connected with each other. Three pigs built houses without having a licence. There wasn’t a certificated builder among them – so the first house was of straw, the second of some other feeble material and only the third house was of plexiglass and concrete.
Bet on, it was a secret warning from Building Inspection.
Nevertheless, it worked on Julia. I was picturing the highs and lows of a concrete house and even was carried away with my own argumentation. Julia turned on her side, put a palm under her cheek and smacked her lips. She resembled a sleeping angel.
The pigeon, lornsome and forgotten, walked from under the bed. I picked it and carried to the kitchen.
“Cereals?” I showed it the pack.
The bird didn’t protest. I poured fodder in a saucer and put near the bird. It set up to peck vigorously. Two days ago the bird was free, homeless and lonely. Now it has a home, two idiot owners (well, I’m not mistaken – the bird considers Julia to be its only owner) and an awful habit to beg for meals. Its small piggy eyes drilled a hole in you until you gave cereals to it.
Today I asked Julia why she didn’t give bread to the pet. It’s harmful for its health, Julia objected. She can see, Pigeon Expert. Most of all I wanted to watch them in the morning – simultaneously pecking the corns from the bowl.
I composed a sandwich with wurst for myself. I felt that I had to dine if I wanted to wake up the next morning, but the wurst didn’t bring sense. The view of the eating pigeon cast sad thoughts on me. Usual characters of my doubts paraded in my mind – Leuce, Philip, Lisa... plus tutoress. And if Philip and Leuce were always kissing in my imagination, Lisa wasn’t acting at all.
I closed my eyes and saw her face not what it was after the murder, but what it appeared to me in my dreams. Her bittersweet face saved the traces of torture, but the smile gave me absolution. There wasn’t too much in my life to be ashamed of, but in her presence I remembered everything in details.
It took me two minutes to realize that this body in front of me, leaning on the back of the chair was not my hallucination, but – suppose it a kind of a midnight dream – Lisa. I peered in her, trying to figure out how I managed to fall asleep while eating. She peered back and her unearthly glance wasn’t the one to be endured for long. I turned away and my eyes ran into a new guest.
I haven’t nightmared her before. I didn’t expect to see her ever in my life. Lisa must have missed the intercourse so much that dragged her along. I faked a dizzy smile as examined the tutoress for the signs of murder – a laceration in her chest was awful. I choked with a sudden spasm of vomit and closed my eyes.
Lisa was more pleasure to watch – angellike with her forgiving smile she could pass for a medieval madonna. A countess from an old painting with one key difference. No painter could picture the death in her face so accurately and precisely as fate did. Death in her lineaments conquered even the gladness and cheerfulness that were so strong in her during the life. Death was obvious in her.
“What do you want?” I asked.
She lay her hands on the table.
The sandwich between us was like a symbolic verge between dead and alive.
For a ghost Lisa was quite tangible – she didn’t penetrate through things. Didn’t pass through the chair. She picked the tea-spoon from the table and began to twist it between the fingers.
“What do you want?” I winced. The silence disturbed me.
I wanted to sleep. I wanted to have my sandwich. I wanted to be left in peace for this night at least. Death in all her forms seemed to be tracing me – at Philip’s, at El Paraiso. The third time she didn’t came herself but sent two messengers to announce her say.
“If you have nothing to say, go away, Lisa! I can’t do anything to revenge you. If you just told me the name, and showed where the evidences were, I would be able to claim for justice! Don’t ask more from me when you don’t even tell me what you want!”
My words didn’t affect her. I grabbed the ‘verge’ from the table and began to chew. The pigeon in its corner gave up pecking and dragged himself along to the hall. On half-way he collided into the tutoress. Well, collided was a wrong word. She wasn’t solid like Lisa – a fresh-cooked ghost – and the pigeon simply got stuck in her dense leg. It fluttered and suffocated.
I didn’t mind – the birds don’t die in a dream.
“We are waiting for the third” Lisa said. Her voice sounded like from a wooden box.
“The last victim!” The tutoress echoed.
The bird twitched and went limp. The tutoress put the body in the bin and turned to me. Happy Jully didn’t see what this ultramundane creature made with her pet. She would be very angry... No ultramundance could help to survive her anger.
Suddenly I caught what they were talking about.
“Noooo” I whispered. “This can’t be! Two of you is enough!”
It sounded impolite but dead things don’t often care about such trifles.
“Noooo. Please, no!”
Lisa took my hand and unclenched my fist. The touch of her ghost fingers was cold. The coldness spread over my arm so that I couldn’t feel it.
 “We are waiting for the third”, her soft voice sounded in my ears again. “The last one!”
Her body became dim. In a minute two girls were gone.
Lisa’s fingers left five cyan prints on my skin. A thin sliver blade lay on my palm. It was a splinter of the mirror. I would recognize this one among the millions of mirrors. Shaded surface glimpsed black silver. It seemed to absorb the feeble moonlight, accumulating the energy on the facets. My face reflected in the splinter – half cut surprised look, one brown eye.
They said ‘third’. That’s what the splinter was about – a black mark for the last victim. For me? Fuf, I thought suddenly relaxed. The mark was for me, not for someone I loved and was afraid to lose. The black splinter was given to me and the death would be in hurry to have it back.
You are welcome, I said firmly. For I will fight hard. I will stand my ground. What’s for this, I glanced at the mark in my hand, it’s needless. You can have it right now.
I swung my arm and threw the splinter in the ventlight. It spinned in the air and disappeared outside the window.

The dawn saluted me with coldness. I dragged out of the bed and went to check the heating. It didn’t work. I dropped in Julia’s room – she was snoring under a heap of downy blankets. I took a blanket for myself and huddled up under it, hiding my frozen ears. When I was about to nap again, a mechanical voice reported it was seven am already. “Time to wake up, dormouse mammal!” My cheerful voice added to the recording. I probed the button “Doze more” and buried myself in the bed.
The morning was asserting its rights. The grey light penetrated through the curtains and crept under my eye-lids. Juls woke up, too, and rustled in her room, cursing someone loudly. I winced – the prospect to attend classes today was unpleasant. Last nights, lacked of sleep, had the effect on my vividness.
Julia was sitting in the kitchen with her usual bowl of cereals. Untouched spoon in the dense slush stood straight – Julia was greedy with milk this time. She watched the mash with disgust and sighed.
“Morning!” I put the wurst near her nose and said. “Figure is not that importnat as your bright mood! A little slice will be harmless for your diet!”
She seemed to be waiting for the invitation. In a second a sandwich with saveloy disappeared in her mouth. Her face enlightened with pleasure. Cereals… I threw the slush in the bin and put the bowl in the sink.
“Did you see what’s going on outside? A real disaster!” she pointed in the window.
In one short night October autumn, rainy and sleety, changed into winter. Snow might have been falling during the whole night and didn’t stop in the dawn. It covered the streets and the street cleaners didn’t manage with the snowdrifts. Rare people muffled up in Autumn jackets and hid noses in the scarves. There wasn’t a trace of wind. The trees stood solemn and motionless, under the conies of white. Crows and pigeons digged out of the banks and waved their wings to let the snow off.
Colourless sunspot emerged in the overcast.
“November is on the verge!” Julia champed. “By the way didn’t you see Chikky?”
“Who?” just from the bed I wasn’t quick-minded.
“The pigeon... I forgot to feed it yesterday night... well, you know... haven’t it died from hunger?” she joked. “I’ve searched for it in the night, but haven’t found. Did you take it along?”
“ I fed it” I answered not to the point, struck with a terrifying memory.
Julia noticed the change in my face and shut up. The air in the kitchen became electrified. I walked to the bin and peered into it. Covered with boiled cereals the pigeon lay there, like a toy squashed in the washing machine. I took the body out and - without a proper thinking - put it on the table. Julia kept dazed silence. Her mouth was open as if she wanted to shriek and changed her mind in the last moment.
The dream... It wasn’t a dream at all.
I rushed to the street like I was – in pajamas and pumps. My bare legs got frozen immediately. Pajamas didn’t protect from cold either so I grasped myself to warm up a little. Everything was covered with a thick layer of snow. It creaked under my feet and adhered to the pumps. It was impossible to find anything under this blanket even if I brought the tracker dog along. If the thing that I looked for was here, in the yard right under my window, I was unlikely to find it until the snow melted.
But the strange feeling didn’t let me give the search up. I digged the snow with my hands, not scared to cut them with the splinter. My fingers turned pale soon. Passersby watched me suspiciously, for them I was something whatlike a god’s fool.
It was lying in the very center of the old bush. I scratched my fingers to blood while plucked it out. It was covered with a thin crust of rime and I broke it, feeling unbearable wish to see my reflection in the splinter. The black surface reflected no one but me – a curious little girl.
I felt some kind of disappointment.
I put the splinter in the pocket and rushed back home.
Julia was still down with the death of her pet. She almost fell in love with it during the day. She shared her cereals with it – take into account she never offered to me. And she already gave it the name – Chikky. Baptized, it became not a pigeon – one among a million, but her dear Chikky – the only in a million.
I didn’t know how to enlighten her despair. It was me who got used to people dying around me, not Juls. Firstly met face to face with death – so unfair and inopportune (if death could ever be opportune), she was not even scared – totally shocked. Like a child that suddenly discovered that life was not endless.
There weren’t any words to cheer her up. She should have lived it through by herself. I told Julia about the midnight intruders and showed the splinter.
She didn’t make tragedy of the black mark, thanks.
“The treat looks real. What are you going to do?”
I shrugged.
“Still?”
“What can I do? Hope for best, prepare for worst! So I’ll prepare!” I said. “I’ll try to get everything mended again. I want to have my friends back, for only their support can save me. I need them!”
The game was reaching the end. Two players – nope, two equal rivals – were almost on the final stage. The victory had to chose one of us. Either I will win and have my olds back, or I will lose and Philip will take my place under the sun. I had more chances to win now, when Philip didn’t gain everyone’s popularity. But the victory was a lady who preferred men.
She could cheat.
“Haven’t you ever thought that they need you more?” Julia asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You only think you need someone to survive. You lie to yourself, firstly. Anne, just look, you have everything you want because you want so little. While we are dreaming of the entire world, you have your wings, your peace and your wurst and don’t strive for anything else.
“When you come around, we see that you are too weak to stand your ground and we begin to act for you. We become stronger and more confident just because YOU are not! For you. But now I see you are not feeble and fragile... when will you stop acting a snotty lady? Don’t mind us, but now when you know who will be the last victim, why don’t you spit on our weak points? Why don’t be what you are?
“Of course, when Baby Ann suddenly becomes Hannah, it will be hard for us to learn to be strong for ourselves but we’ll succeed. We wanted you to be weak, for us to be powerful near you. This time you don’t have to use this mask. Just be what you are”.
“Thanks, Julia. There’s a problem you can’t see!” I shook my head.
She stared at me.
“Uhm... I don’t know what I am!”

The problems of my identity occupied my brains on my road to university. I didn’t explain the details to Julia and she accepted my statement like another banal cue. The phrase fitted some Pedro-Huanito from ‘soap-opera’ more than Normal Ruissian girl, no dobuts. But whatever you call the problem, it won’t disappear.
Being a sort of fairy meant I was not a fairy and still not a human. I could fly but at the same time most of all I estimated my sense of solid ground. I loved a demon and it was quite a strange trick for an ordinary fairy.
Loving was impossible for fairies, while I stepped on the same rake twice. And I enjoyed the feelings even when they brought me no happiness.
“They are closing the university!”
An unknown girl caught me by sleeve when I walked out of the subway. I turned to tell her she’d mistaken. It was Katherinah in a new fur-coat, smiling. I remembered how we parted with her yesterday and strained. If she wanted to go on sorting out our relationship plus my attitude to Philip, she chose not a right person. She dragged me to the park, not letting me to have a word.
It was the same park where I met Philip. That time it was covered with leafage, rustling under our feet – all possible colours. Today the abrupt winter was in its rights. The main alley, the narrow paths – everything was covered with white. Heavy snowcaps weighted down the branches. The trees resembled Japanese servants in a respectful bow. The benches stood half-buried under the snow and only the yellow backs revealed them for us. Kathe shook off the snow and made me sit.
“What do you want?” I asked. No friendliness in my voice.
Although I wanted to make things right again, I didn’t want to have a reputation for easy-forgiving.
“I’ve got too much to tell you but if you refuse to listen to me, I’ll understand you!” she waited for the reaction. I shrugged – ‘it depends on what you say’.
“Well, you know sometimes some temporary values blind us and we forget about the things that meant too much for us. I thought I loved Dimah. Everyone thought I loved Dimah. When I finally got him, this victory obscured the reality for me. Dimah is a good guy and a great friend. Someone said that you love people not for they are, but for the person you turn out to be with them. I was awful with Dimah. I listened to every bullshit he told me. He ruled me, ordering, prohibiting... Yesterday you told me the truth and I realized. I didn’t want to outcast anyone, and it was the last deal from me to leave you in trouble. I believed you when you told that Philip was guilty. I believed but did nothing to support you. Me! When I was your best friend from the very beginning! I can’t forgive myself but I hope – I sincerely hope – that you will do this thing for me.
“I want everything the way it was before. I don’t know what changed this year that things went wrong for us all, I don’t know, but today I feel that I have to object, to fight against fate, because I don’t like this way. We are rolling to the precipice and even help ourselves to be faster. I just feel somehow that you are the only person to lead me to the truth, whetever cruel it is.
“I must be sounding too pathetic, aren’t I? I see. I don’t mind the murders now. We are all scared. But most of all I am scared of losing something inside me. Do you remember how we stole the keys? How we played tricks on classmates? How we taught the dean to drink beer without getting drunk? Do you remember how the cops caught us drunk and didn’t believe the dean when he cried who he was? Do you remember how the biochem prof defended himself? Do you remember how you talked him out of it?
“We have so much to recall together. Why don’t we go on the same way to create more memories?”
I watched her, indifferent. No, whatever this girl said it wasn’t my Katherinah. The speech was alright for a romantic movie, not for two girls in a snow park. Words, from a moment they ceased meaning too much and became insignificant. I was never going to believe words again in my lifetime.
Kathe noticed my distrust and sighed.
“Shoot! I’ve prepared the speech for the whole night and it didn’t work! Did it?”
I shook my head.
She took out a folded sheet of paper. Her finger traced the black lines and she spaced out muttering:
“This... said... this... in other words... passage about remembering... Shoot. Have I said it? Uhmm...” she looked at me, in the sheet and again at me “I think that being friends means to meet difficulties sometimes. We met them and now we have just to overcome and...” she stole a glance in the sheet.
I couldn’t help giggling. Her face was so lumped as if she was pronouncing a wedding vow.
“Have I said it already?” she asked.
I fell from the bench, grasping my poor stomach. It was ready to explode from laughter. That was more of an old Kathe. The girl that spent whole night composing a reconciling speech didn’t remember what she had told and what she hadn’t. The girl that read the most important words from the sheet and still saved the expression of total sincerity. A girl that suddenly appeared to be my dear Kathe – with her usual cunning flash in the left eye and perplexity in the right.
I embraced her dearly and thus we sat for long-long minutes of unity, each thinking her own thoughts. The time passed us by, not daring to remind there were plenty problems to be solved. The world around was remote. Only two of us were real, other people didn’t matter. Only those who reunited with old friends could understand what friendship was, indeed. I felt it with my heart but could barely describe by words.
If I knew what love was I would probably say that it was the same damn thing.
Then we moved away . ‘Years could pass and miles could separate us but we will stay together’, our eyes said. ‘Death can come and take, but we will remain unparted’, our smiles said. ‘Whatever you are and whatever I am, we’ll be friends forever’ our thoughts interlaced. “I promise to you” she smiled.
“I promise to you!” I answered.
After such a romantic episode it was very hard to switch over to a more prosaic subject.
“What were you talking about in the very beginning?”
“Oh” she frowned. “That’s awful! They are closing the university!”
 “Closing what?”
“U-NI-VER-SI-TY! Got it?”
My jaws fell in the snowdrift. I picked them up and returned on their place.
“Who? Why? Where? Just stop and tell me everything step by step!”
Yeterday, when I hurried home, Kathe stayed in the university to reason out her relations with Dimah. When he prohibited her to attend “El paraiso’ without him, things turned clear for her and she – after a tough row - damned him. Dimah couldn’t bear the offense and ran away. Kathe stayed in the building and saw the next act of the drama.
The discharge of Philip made an incredible effect on the students. Scared, they gathered in groups. Gosspis and rumours were transmitted from one group to another. Philip, that they worshipped before, turned out to be a monster. They didn’t recall their former attitude to him. The only thing they knew was that the murderer was free and any could be the next victim.
The atmosphere of total panic spread over the students. The complaints and shouts came to one short conclusion “Death for the murderer!”
Trying to prevent riots the rector had to speak to students.
“The only thing we can do now is to cancel the classes for indefinite time. Students who want to continue the education should put their names in the list. We’ll arrange it with other schools and the students will be scattered! Sorry, guys, but it’s the only way now, when things turned out so sad. When police comes to criminate someone particular, we’ll be back at our usual routine. Thanks!”
His words didn’t clear up the moods.
The tide of protest was going to wash the rector from the platform. Nobody wanted to ‘be scattered’. Students got used to their friends, teachers, classrooms. No murderer could deprive them of it. In some minutes the riots turned into an organized meeting, but this time the subject was different. ‘We are staying’ the students shouted. The rector had to admit the first idea with closing rash, but didn’t reject it. The final discussion would be held today in a conference room.
“They will close the university” Kathe explained “anyway. Because all of them understand that they can’t guarantee our security. Even if they bring the Emergency platoons here in full completement. The killer is someone of us and we can’t feel secured until police finds him”
“Don’t you think anymore it was Philip?”
“I do” she said. “I think that he’s guilty. But I don’t want to upset you with my suspicions. Your attitude to him is... quite clear!”
I stared at her.
“What do you want, Anny? I’ve been your best friend for years and I can easily notice when your eyes flash with light. You watch him constantly. You advocate him. What’s it if not love?” she patted my shoulder.
“My ... attitude doesn’t ... matter!” I squeezed through my gritted teeth.
Kathe should have felt I didn’t want to stick to this subject.
“Why haven’t you tried to charm him? The way Leuce did it. I thought he had some sympathy to you!” she continued.
“Kathe. He doesn’t feel anything about me anymore. Some time ago, may be, he had a soft spot for me. Now, it’s gone. He rejected me two times. Two times, already. Enough to understand I haven’t got a chance. I wanted to be his beloved, I tried to be his friend. Now I’m at best the one he won’t ever shake hands with. That’s it and it doesn’t concern the entire deal!”
Kathe sighed but shut up and didn’t distract me with stupid talks. We passed to the main deal. The closed university would be a real tragedy for our group. In the evening Kathe questioned others. They were going to participate in the fight if someone lead the attack. They didn’t have a proper idea how to stop the deans.
Still, the common sense said we’d better not endanger ourselves, continuing classes near the murderer. Students rarely listened to common sense, guided by an other one.
“I think we must prove them that we can stand our ground. And that if they try to cancel the classes, we’ll attend them anyway!” I suggested. “Well why are we here while the things are happening now?”
I rushed to the university. Kathe kept in pace with me, breathing heavily.
The corridors were empty and lifeless. No security guarded the entrance. No! We can’t be too late... we exchanged wild looks and ran to another wing. There was the only hall, big enough to admit all the students. If the rector wanted to announce the decision of comission, he should have chosen this hall. We ran there, praying to be in time.
But how could we – two girls – influence the weird route of events?
The hall was full so that if you wanted to inhale and exhale you had to walk out in the corridor. On full speed we cut into the crowd. Tany noticed us in the throng and jumped on her chair, calling our names. The students around us snarled and hissed, while we pushed them away, forcing to the first rows. Almost near the final point I stumbled and began to fall down when Alex caught me by the collar and put on the chair near Tany. Kathe was already here.
I waved away the stars from my head and stared on the stage. It was empty. We still had time.
“What’s going on?” I asked Alex.
“We are waiting! They are debating on the rector’s floor. Then the rector will come down and say what they have decided!”
“So... easy?” I wondered.
“What have you wanted?”
“And we just stay here and wait, don’t we?”
Tany and Daniel stopped talking and stared at me. I jumped on the chair and shouted:
“Are we stupid sheep to take what they give us? They are deciding upon our future... without us! Are we going to swallow it?”
Our next beighbors turned to me.
“What do you suggest?” Tany said.
“We must protest, object, tear them in pieces! Who gave them the right to chose the fate for me? People!” I shouted so that the uproar faded. “Are you going to sit it still? They will prohibit you to attend the classes – will you obey?”
I was on the right way. Most of all students in any country disliked to obey anything. Rules and regulation were an empty sound for us because the rebel was boiling in young blood. The response roar proved that this audience would pay attention to my words. I climbed on the stage and raised my hand.
Dozens of throats shut up at once. Dozens of white mocks stopped rustling, moving... breathing. I suddenly felt myself little and silly. Their attention covered me like an avalanche and if I wasn’t strong enough it could bury me under. I didn’t mistake – I wasn’t any nesessary for them. Only words – right words that I pronounced made sense. I shivered with shiness and searched Kathe with my eyes. She waved to me encouraging and I began:
“They are sitting on the upper floor and making up their minds if we need the education we’ve chosen. They think that they can scatter us, palm off some other school and we’ll accept it gladly. They think that they can part us with our friends - and we’ll accept it with happiness and gratitude. They say they can’t guarantee our security! They can’t! But we can! If we are afraid that our close friend can be the murderer, why don’t we then travel in threes, fours? It’s a simple way out! We’ll take heed at any suspicious sound, at any strange thing and we’ll stay alive! But now we can’t wait until they cancel our normal life. We must object! I suggest that we have to decide it ourselves!”
My ears began to hurt with concordant shouts. The throng roared in approvement of my words. No, they weren’t going to agree with everything the rectors said. They were going to object.
“Voting! Voting!” They shouted. “Voting!”
The idea to have a vote was rather nice. Every student could have his say.
“So... we just have to choose someone who will go and tell the deans we are having a vote!” I said.
The throng burst out with another portion of salutary screams. I couldn’t make out what they shouted and cried to Kathe:
“What do they want?”
She smiled perplexedly.
“You!”
“What?” I asked.
“They have chosen you to go to the deans!”
I strained my ears and heard certain “Yous” among the cacophony of shouts. I observed the roaring throng, confused and disappointed. That wasn’t the thing I’d dreamt about. There must have been someone else for this mission. Not me. I was literally pushed behind the door by two fifth course students, who wished me good luck, promised to wait for me forever and – just in case – asked for my telephone number.
Kathe – tousled and torn – forced through the crowd to the exit and joined to me. I tried my best not to think about how I was going to persuade ten deans to let us have a vote. Kathe kept silence, probably, thinking about the same thing. Millions of possible arguments spinned in my head but I couldn’t snatch any.
Hand in hand we got on the upper floor. There, in the height, our rector and deans ruled sway our destinies. I was surprised how tensed the silence was here. It was even dense with hopes and fears. The responsibility, I understood. Now, decided to have our choice we also claimed we were ready to have the responsibility on our shoulders. It was rather grown-up decision and we would, perhaps, pay for it – with the grown-up price.
But I couldn’t pretend myself silence the protest. I was fed up with people regulating my life, not me. Was it the Moon, Philip’s charms or the deans, I wanted the initiative to pass in my hands. I wanted to have my life by myself.
Mary met us in the entrance.
“Shush!” she stopped our questions.
Kathe cast an angry look on her but said nothing. Mariah understood clearly that this temporary patience could break up a real tempest when Katherinah got fed up.
“What are they doing?” I pointed at the closed door.
“Arguing... for twenty minutes already just arguing!” Mariah whispered. “Pharmacy dean put me here to banish too curious. They are annoying like flies - every minute someone appears to inquire about the things. I don’t disturb anyone though I don’t like this idea with closing the university!”
Kathe dragged Mary away to explain the problem to her. I was left to ponder over the arguments again. Nothing valuable came to my mind. I was to use those stupid statements that would visit me during the talk.
Mary protested and cast perplexed looks on me. Kathe went on threatening, waving hands in the air. She should have been born Italian – so expressive her gestures were. Mary shook her head and refused. Kathe pressed hard.
Finally, Mary yielded and gave up the argument.
“She will permit us to the cabinet!” Kathe whispered while Mary rattled with keys.
“Us?”
“I’m going to participate too. Have you really wanted to leave me waiting?”
Slowly, like through the syrup Mary turned the key in the lock and half-opened the opaque glass door. We slipped into the corridor and stole to the rector’s office. The noise from out there was like if they talked all at once. Downright first-formers.
Kathe raised her hand to knock and looked at me. I sighed, not a trace of resoluteness in my gesture. Kathe’s hand fell loose as she leaned on the wall and shook her head.
“I’m afraid!”
“So am I!” I said.
It was easy to talk about asserting our rights in the street. We could be courageus and confident five minutes ago, when this door seemed as far as twenty years delayed future. I wasn’t the one to knock and open the door. I imagined the deans... What if they drive us out? It would be a failure I wasn’t able to bare.
Lingering in front of the door we still had a hope.
Mariah silhouette flashed behind the entrance door. She tried to fight down her own nervousness, rushing but and ben in soldier’s pace. She only drop short of a gala rifle to complete the image.
 “Noooo” we heard her spiteful hiss. “I can’t let you in!”
“I’ll get there!” firm voice sounded hostile.
“Shoot! Philip! He will spoil everything!”
I was about to knock in the door when Philip’s steel hands caught mine and stopped. He moved Kathe away and dragged me from the door. I tried to remove his grasp but it was the same with trying to lift the truck. I hoarsed and coiled.
“What are you doing, idiot guy?”
He put me in the corner and glared at me with his impossible green eyes. There was so much ice in them that it would suffice to freeze Sahara. I shrunk back and hit on the wall.
“I wanted to ask you the same damn thing. What are you doing?”
“That’s not your deal. How dare you treat me like this? What a right do you have?”
“A right of stronger, girl. Now answer, what do you want from the dean?” he insisted.
“Don’t you see? We are going to demand for an equal vote. No one of us wants the university to be closed!” I answered..
“Are you mad? Want to be the next, huh? They are closing the unversity for your security and you object. Are you mad indeed?”
“I object because I don’t want to swallow it silent! I want to go on studying whatever it takes me. Even when I’m the next... I don’t mind it. And I’m not scared! Let me pass!” I tried to move him away.
He blocked my way.
“What else? What do you want from me more?”
“What did you mean saying “When I’m the next”? How did you know it?”
“That is not your deal, Philip. I don’t want to give up the old routine because I like it. I like the way things were before you, before you came and spoilt everything. You’ve done this harm in Madrid but you won’t succeed here! May be, it was you who killed the tutoress and Lisa – just to have the university closed. Do you have a sense for cancelled classes? Don’t you like to study at all, ah?
“Just don’t tell me any bullshit about demonicity and other trciks. I won’t believe. I’m fed up with people asking me whether I’m mad or not. I’m mad! That’s what you wanted to hear? And when you come to have my life, I’ll die as a mad one!”
He recoiled. There wasn’t any flash in his eyes, not a grain. Just bottomless ocean of green absinth. I didn’t drown in it anymore. The anger was knocking me down so that I was going to kill him if he didn’t let me go. But he did.
“You don’t understand, Hannah!” he whispered behind me, but I ignored it.
There wasn’t Kathe waiting for me. The storey was deserted, save guardian Mary and Leuce, permanent Philip’s companion.
“Where is Kathe?” I asked Mary.
She pointed at the door.
“She is already there. Please, be a good girl and stay here. She was rather courageous to go alone. Now that’s her fight. You can only interfere her plans!”
She was right. I sat on the floor near Mary. Philip walked by me. I supressed the desire to trip up. Leuce followed him, raising her hands in a bout of lamentation.
I knew why Kathe went there alone. For everyone of us comes a day when he has to decide not upon his destiny, but upon what he is. Kathe must have made up her mind whether she was a week fragile girl and needed Dimah to be strong for her. This idea called up with Julia’s tyrade about my being strong.
Kathe had never been feeble before Dimah. According to her own words, she didn’t like this condition. If she wanted to have him strong near her, she had to be under his rules, whatever idiot they were. If she wanted to have her choice, she needed to prove herself she was able to stand her ground.
I recalled what we were before Philip. I lied to him. I got used to lying to him, to my classmates, to myself: I didn’t blame him for anything. Things weren’t any better before him. We just decieved each other, pretending to be more or less than we were. Each of us had a personal role, that we followed without objection. Did we like them? Did we understand what they meant for us? Bet on we didn’t. We played them with all our hearts, apprehending it as freedom, that thing too much wanted and talked about.
We were chasing a shadow and when caught, it turned out a ghost and slipped away through fingers. Time came now and we had to put off the masks. At least to see ourselves what we are. To stop playing and begin to live.
Kathe played in love with Dimah. Ritual tears on the couch, jealosy and other tricks were her own role and she succeeded. The audience applauded and threw bouquets on the stage. And encored her. Kathe, no matter if she wanted or not, had to go on to keep her audience in the theatre. Did she really need Dimah? I think she didn’t. Kathe playing in love and Kathe real were two different girls. Real Kathe didn’t need anyone at all. Love made her week and inconfident. She got lost in the life with its surprises, lost her usual sense of humour and cheerfulness.
Philip came and took the mask from her face. True Kathe, still clinging to the old role, disappeared behind the door to prove herself, to give old ghost up.
As for me, the comprehension was enough. I opened my eyes and saw that people I needed before were not nesessary. We were a solid group and, in fact, we didn’t mind what we were as individuals. This time we had to learn being persons. This education cost us much – endless quarrels, offences, distrust, two deaths and dismay.
We had to live it through or disapppear in the darkness.
There was no third way – back. Old routine, with wich I reproached Philip, didn’t exist for us anymore. In this odd time, when in my sight wind swept away my sandy castles, I had to recognize myself. What was I? Did this “I” have a right for being?
On the other hand I knew how demonicity worked. It lost doubts in our souls. These corns grew in discord, distrust and fears. The fear was the thing that uncovered our faces. Cowards or heroes we put off the guises.
“Mary”, I turned to her. “What will you do if I die, say, tomorrow?”
Her face became wry. She stopped her nervous pacing and leaned over me.
“If you die? I will mourn!”
She was so calm and serious that I had to submit this obvious answer.
“And if I ask you not to mourn?”
“I will, anyway! Are you going to die?” she asked with a soft smile.
I found the splinter in my pocket and took it out. The black surface glimpsed in the grey light. I wasn’t going to die. It was too early for me. To die when I just began to understand myself and others. Too unfair.
Youth had nothing to do with it. History knows many people who had better died in the youth.
“If I die, will it change anything?” I asked myself, but Mary reacted.
“For you? Or for us?”
I didn’t get the asnwer. The door - the magic door – opened. Kathe, tousled and red-eyed from anger, rushed out and began to knock in the entrance door. Mary hurried up to unlock it. Kathe dumped out of the hall and I caught her in my hands.
Ten respectable deans appeared from the office, solemn like Chinese courtiers. Kathe grasped my hand and dragged me away. They passed by us, without saying a word. Mary, perplexed, handled the keys to the rector and moved after the old men.
“What’s happened? Did you? Did you?” I jumped around her.
She made me shut up with a hasty movement. She waited until the floor got deserted and turned to me. Her short “Codgers!” explained almost everything.
She looked so awful that, knowing that Kathe hated reading most of all in her life, I would think she had passed two fortnights, devouring the Dragonlance saga book after book. I would consider her a drug addict or a drunkard if didn’t know she had principles about it.
The ‘codgers’ must have tortured her there, bound to the chair and read the chapters of pathology textbook.
I sat near her on the stairs. The silence would help her to recollect. She’d better cursed and hated than watched so wearily. She suddenly burst out crying. Painful tears fell from her eyes. I wanted to wipe them down but she repulsed my hand and turned away.
She needed to cry out. The strain and resolution came out of her with these tears. Her skin turned live again with every shed teardrop. She was strong, my Kathe. No matter if she talked the deans into the voting or not, she won anyway. She won over her fears and weakness. Now she could go on with a solid knowledge about what she was.
Katherinah was the first to leave our viscious circle and become free indeed.
“I did it” she said. “It was impossible. When I entered they had already made up their mind. But I turned it down. I did it. We’ll be voting!”
“Well done!” I said.
For some reason, she shook her head and didn’t show any gladness.
“Haven’t you thought we are wrong? We are in danger! Nevertheless, we want to tickle our nerves, to mock at it! We’re playing with fire. This game cost us two victims already. Are we mad?”
I took her hand and put the splinter in her fist the way Lisa did.
“I wouldn’t ever agree for the game, if I didn’t know what it would cost me this time! It’s no more your game!”
“What is it?”
“Lisa gave it to me. It’s my black mark, Kathy. I will be the third victim!” I said.
She seemed not to believe me.
“What is it?” she twisted the splinter between her fingers. “A fragment?”
“It’s a splinter from the mirror!”
I didn’t go into details. Encounter with dead girls was enough to agitate her mind for a long time.
If I wanted to explain what this mirror meant to me, I should have revealed the secret to her. Although Kathe was my bestfriend and I could share any dream with her, this secret was not mine. Philip didn’t ask me to keep it, but I knew I had to. To hold an invisible thread between us.
“I am ready!” I said.
Kathe threw the splinter in the litter-bin and missed. I wanted to have it back, but Kathe stopped me.
“Don’t clutch at death, Anny! It’s just a trick, a dream... a nightmare. When did you begin to believe in nightmares?”
When Lisa died, I said. Lisa, then me, almost suffocated at Philip’s, then the tutoress... Death preferred the bunches of three flowers. She lacked of the final flower.
Take me, I thought, and you’ll get a wormwood among the roses.
“Listen, Kathe. I’ll sell my life expensive. The guy will have to be very convincing to make me give up this life. Still, no one knows... may be I will win!”
I saw she didn’t like this ‘may be’. Kathe didn’t favour my careless attitude to death.
We didn’t want to proceed with this stupid talk. The voting must have begun already and we had to hurry up to take part in it. We didn’t know how it would be held. I pretended something like president elections with ballot-boxes and registration of voters. Kathe said it would be non-organized and offhand.
None of us was right. When we arrived the voting had almost come to the end. A pile of paper scraps towered on the table in front of the rector. The last students came to the table, put their scraps on the top and let others have their turn. We pushed our way through the crowd and joined in the very end of the line. I tore a sheet of paper from my pathology copy-book and gave to Kathe. She devided it in two parts and stared on me. We didn’t know what to write.
A guy in the mock leaned over my ear and whispered “You have to write NO”.
I scratched a crooked ‘no’ on the scrab. Kathe puffed over her scrab, drawing ‘no’ with her beautiful handwriting. After some consideration she added frivolous hearts around the word and three exclamation marks. When our turn came she didn’t put her scrap in common pile but palmed off under the rector’s nose. I placed mine safely on the very top of the heap and lingered near the rector.
“What else?” he raised his grey head.
Well, Kathe wasn’t the only to suffer in the battle. He looked no better. And if Kathe had her merited minutes of rest, nobody took care of the rector.
“I am the last!” I said. “The voting is over!”
In simultaneous movement, the army of the white mocks turned to the stage. The silence became palpable. Slowly like in slumber, the rector put two boxes on the table. One for ‘yes’ and one for ‘no’. Unbreathing we watchd him unfold the first scrap, look it through and put in the ‘no’ box. The relieved exhalation haunted the sea of white. The second scrap followed the first... the third....
With every next scrap we became more and more serene.
The deans surrounded the table to help the rector with the scraps. We could hardly see what happened there, behind their backs. The students began to fret and rebel. “Let us see!” Alex shouted near me, throwing his white cap in the air. Tany closed his mouth with her hand and Alex shut up. His cap fell in my hands and I stood, nervous, crumpling it.
A fragile blonde girl near me writhed in a prayer. Her neighbor caressed her shoulder in sympathy and she smiled to him above fur eyelashes. Daniel stood motionless, holding his cell-phone like a stone, ready to throw. Mary and Dimah occupied two seats in the first row and watched the stage with spaced out amusement.
I found Kathe’s hand and interlaced my fingers with her. She welcomed me with encouraging smile.
The deans moved away from the table to let us see. The rector raised the ‘no’ box and turned it over. Like snowflakes, dancing in the air, the white scraps fell on the table, on the floor. We watched it charmed, frozen without a breath. They fell and fell – endless flood of ‘nos’. Our protest, our object... our hopes whirled like white butterflies. When the last one escaped from the box and landed on offered Kathe’s palm, we breathed out.
When we were ready to celebrate the victory, the rector made us shut up and took the next box. We stared, unbelieving...
A lone white scrap of paper spinned in the air and first timid smiles appeared on faces. It whirled and whirled, like a whisper of dying in the cacophony of life. Struck with sudden feeling I turned back and saw Philip.
A bitter smile distorted his lineaments. Beauty cracked and crumbled. I watched how the familiar fire of mockery appeared in his eyes. Beasty grin took the place of the smile. He turned back and disappeared in the crowd.
“He might be the only sane in this madness of life!” Kathe said. “He objected but no one listened! We’ll have to pay for it! Even I said ‘no’. I want to be mad too... sometimes... I want to go with the stream”
She searched support in me. Whatever I said to her, it would be a lie. I felt total happiness, that washed away my doubts and fears. We won! We won, and no matter that this war was far easier than that I would have with the hunter. It didn’t matter now, when I wanted to be just a happy girl. I wanted to have fun. To smile. To laugh. To be crazy...
Today. It will suffice...
If I just knew how oracular my words were...
The rector raised his hand to attract attention.
“You all know that I don’t approve of your choice! But the die is cast. Tomorrow you can continue your classes. Now – I think you have something to celebrate!”
His last words faded in ovation.

We made our way through the crowd. Congratulations fell on us from everywhere. Kathe faked a smile and hurried up to escape these boring ceremonies. People that were our friends earlier and people that considered themselves to be our friends from today didn’t let us pass. Poor Kathe was already fed up with the same idiot question , everyone asked “How did you?”
One more cue and she would splash out her wine on the next bother. The guys that hardly noticed her before blocked her way and asked her for a date. Her face grew wry and crooked. I moved the daters away and said that she was already dating... with me.
This wild lie didn’t make them lose interest. Some kinks animated even more and suggest such things that I couldn’t keep Kathe from a decent blow. “Just to beat out the folly!” Kathe smiled carnivorously. This smile helped much more than my lies. A sudden wind of change swept all comers.
The rector didn’t mistake. We were celebrating the victory in “Dimensions”, less fabulous variant of “El paraiso” and – obviously – safer for me. Students, drunk more from triumph than alcohol, frisked in the club. Most of them didn’t pay attention there wasn’t any music playing. The DJ-set broke and we had to wait until it was fixed.
Neither Kathe, nor me felt any sorrow about it. All we wanted was to hide in a dark corner on a soft sofa and have a nap. When we refused to participate in the party, no one listened to us and we had now to produce phony smiles and feign frantic activity. It was hard – my eyes were closing, Kathe didn’t stand up straight and was about to fall if I didn’t hold her tight.
All the sofas were occupied by students. If we chose one, we had to go through another portion of thanks and questioning. An unpleasant prospect! Kathe aspired to lie anywhere, let it be the dirt floor. I leaned her against the wall near the stage and went on alone.
People didn’t want to give up the old routine. They clung at the semblance of peace and confidence while madness of life spinned us in endless whirlpool. We all were like molluscs in a shell – any influence from outer world terrified us. Changes lead to uncertainty. Uncertainty lead to fear. Fear – again – made us hide in our shells. Whatever happened in the world we didn’t mind, afraid of taking part.
We thought that if we went on like before, death wouldn’t touch us.
Youth is the first one to be mistaken.
Mary and Tany passed by me with unknown fifth-course students. Poor Daniel and Alex, like two doggies, followed them in respectful distance – too lost in the surrounding masquerade. Too much of glitter, too much of cheap flirting and no true feelings... I suddenly got sick with this lustre, vomit appeared in my stomach and raised to the throat.
I rushed to the lady’s room, praying to be in time.
I’m not pregnant, I persuaded myself. I can’t be pregnant by definition.
The mirror reflected my pale face with awful black circles under the eyes. I sighed. Beauty have missed me in the childhood. I could be called pretty if not the traces of world’s exhaustion. Cheeks became hollow so that the cheekbones looked carved from marble. It was nothing the same with an antique statue, but with crooked bit of stone. More of that, I didn’t have a flash in my eyes. Just this flash made boy’s hearts beat faster, make their hands tremble.
I hid in the cabin and leaned on the wall. The lady’s room was deserted and the hubbub from the dance-floor didn’t come here. The boy’s room was separted from it with a partition, still the seldom sounds passed through it. For the most part, boys were numb. Girls who visited lady’s room in pairs, threes and groups talked too much – about boys, dresses, music and other girls. Lady’s room was a perfect safe for secrets, gossips and cried out tears.
A familiar voice filtered through the partition and I jumped on the seat.
“I think you should know that I know who the murderer is” Philip sounded muffled but solid.
I pressed my ear to the wall and stopped breathing not to miss a word.
“Why do you think it will interest me?” another voice hissed.
The intonations were known but I didn’t recognize them.
“I know who killed Lisa” Philip repeated.
“Do you?” the second voice seemed not interested at all.
“He should have been more inventive”, Philip said.
The sound of the opening door interrupted their conversation. For two long minutes they were silent. During this respite I wondered who was Philip’s invisible interlocutor.
“You should go to detective Scholman!” the stranger hissed again.
“You know well I don’t have any evidences” Philip said.
“Well... why do you tell me about it then?”
“You should know... that I’ll watch you” Philip’s voice faded.
I rushed out to catch Philip in the hall. He was just leaving the boy’s room when I collided in him. I have never seen him so strained. His breath was heavy and loud, with a sick hoarse. Still, when he met my anxious look, there was nothing, but despise in it. He lay his hands on my shoulders and moved me away. I cast uneasy look on the door, expecting someone to walk out.
Philip noticed it and dragged me from the passage.
“Who were you talking to?” I demanded.
“Were you eavesdropping, Baby Ann?”
I couldn’t bear these sarcastic tunes in his words. Moreover, when we called me this awful “Baby Ann” I returned to my past when I was incapable, indeed. He came and tore off this mask and now he forced me to put it back.
I didn’t want to come back to the old prejudices and errors. Past was enough to have learnt that I didn’t want to be the same little girl anymore. I didn’t want to be “Baby Ann”.
“Who were you talking to?” I insisted.
No matter how he looked at me that time. I was breaking my shell, I wanted to be free. Learning to be a grown-up would cost me much, but I was ready to pay. I was going to become more confident, more powerful... more solid. Like him.
My beloved teacher.
“How long do you have this awful habit – to hide in lady’s, eavesdropping?”
“Answer me, Philip! Do you really know who the murderer is?”
His face shined with a beautiful smile. He resembled a dying swan, wounded, in blood, but still trying to fly. I could be evil or kind, but this love in my heart changed everything. Childish defencelessness in his smile, note of sadness in the absinth prowled in my heart, coiled there and remained forever. My malice and hatred melted and evaporated.
For him I could be anything he asked for. But he didn’t need me at all.
If he just could tell me the truth... to share a little grain of his burden I would give my life... for one instance...
He raised his hand and touched my face. The fingers were cold and they froze my cheeks. The coldness spread over my face, made my eyelids heavy. My eyes closed and lips stretched in a pleasant feline smile. I couldn’t stand it – my blood began to boil. My heart was about to dump out of the chest, fall on the floor and break in millions of bleeding pieces. I pretended Philip treading on them.
I twitched and shrunk back.
“I am sorry!” he said.
He was sorry. Huh. He was sorry! He was blaming himself for every drop of evil that poured from the tap. He bore his cross alone and didn’t want anyone to lighten it. He was either a fool, or a very unhappy man.
I turned around and walked in the dance-hall. The music-installation was fixed, finally, and agitated students craved for dancing. They left sofas and crowded near the DJ-set, talking and laughing. I picked up Kathe, peacefully snoring near the wall and trailed her to the nearest sofa. She opened her eyes once to make sure I was around and gave me the empty glass. I comforted her on the sofa and settled near. While taking care of anyone, I didn’t think I needed care too.
Kathe and Julia were both rather confident and independent. But from time to time they acted like two babies. As for me, I was a total contrast. Being a girl, sometimes I tried to be a grown-up woman. Did I succeed?
Hardly ever.
I didn’t realise I had to grow up one day. To be on my own. Now, life taught me its weird lessons. I was a good student. I was learning fast but too late to change anything in my past. The grow-up Ann would never fall in love with Andrew. I saw strength in him, protection, certainty. He made decisions for me. When he went away and left me on my own, I was lost. Unable to be determined, I preferred to exist no more than learn.
The music broke out apruptly and woke Kathe up. She jumped on her place, uncomprehending. Brisk sounds of a hip-hop composition filled the dance-floor and students began to stamp. It didn’t take them much time to get dissolved in music, totally absorbed with the rhythm. Death and life with its fears had to recede when the party began.
I’d mistaken. Life nad nothing common with this madness.
I watched the raving crowd. People of all nationalities and sexes, happy and ruthful, evil and kind became one complete dancing creature withour organs. This crowd had one mind for all, one intention for all – one life and when this life ended they returned back to reality.
The show must go one. While the music plays, we’ll be breathing...
The brisk song gave place to a slow one. Pairs occupied the dance floor. Courageous loners picked up the partners and joined them. Those who lacked of valour, moved away to the bar or sofas. A tall curly fifth-courser walked Tany out and embraced her waist. Mary with her partner stumbled over the cords and collided into a column. With a shy smile Alex invited a first-courser and got offended when she refused. Daniel was much more successful – he just took a gigant glass of beer and was already enjoying it. When Alex was about to give the search up, another first-courser took his hand and walked to the dance-floor. They looked funny together – nosebleed Alex and little girl with two plaits. He stepped on her toes, awkwardly trampling on his place. Still, this pair had its right for existence...
As a final stroke, Philip walked Leuce in the very corner of the dance floor. Covered with the shadow they were unseen for others, otherwise the party would end with lynching.
Leuce lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Philip seemed to be the only who could dance in the club today. Sober and straight, he embraced Leuce like if she was his last treasure. He swayed her in a slight likeness of rumba.
She stared in my eyes and smiled...
I remembered the first kiss – absinthe-like, orange flavoured with a note of iron in it. The poison of love fell on my lips and envenomed my blood. Now it flew down my veins, filled my breath with hope and demented me. His first kiss, hot like millions of fires, remained unforgettable on my lips, soft like millions of fluffy flakes... his velvet breath on my skin and endless... endless insanity that pulled me to the bottom.
... he said: “Give me your loss and your sorrow”
I remembered how I pushed him away when he tried to kiss me the second time. “What about me?” he asked me that time... About you? What was about you? My whole life, my love was about you, is about you and...oh, God... let me die. Just let me die now, in the very moment. Meet him every day and understand I am the one who spoilt everything. Meet him and fake a friendly smile when all I dream about is kissing him whole, from his raven hair to bronze toes.
I remebered how he used to touch me, enchanted by the night. I remebered how he rejected me, refused everything I was going to lay freeware for him. He didn’t want me, whatever I was. He chose not me. He was right. Of all the world I could give him nothing. Even my love, corroding me from inside, was nothing valuable – just a candle-light in my night.
Oh, Philip, Philip Nobillar, if you just ever knew how much was concentrated in you for me. How many things I would give to hold you near. For one instance – my whole life. And even this time it wouldn’t be enough.
There wasn’t a price I could pay to get him in my arms.
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word...
I remembered the time when the kiss turned out a game we played like two curious children. He just moved away from me and acted like nothing happened. My heart was about to break but he didn’t mind it. How many girls did he involve in this cruel game before? How many broken hearts did he have in his collection?
I remembered the moonlit roof and me, shivering from ecstasy in his embraces. Those sweet moments – forever preserved in my memory. Like a withered rose between the yellow pages of my life. I was going to save them, even if they lost their beautiful meaning for me. When I grew old and these days turned just a trace in my mind, weak and blurred.
I kissed her goodbye, said all beauty must die...
My universe was closed on him. Breathing or not, living or not, even if the Earth stops moving and explodes I will be feeling for him anyway. Even if millions of Deaths march for me at the same moment, I will be feeling for him anyway, before and after my last breath.
Love was cruel. It killed me, leaving alive to suffer longer. It tortured me with things that were created to bring joy. It mocked at me, revenging for some past offense.
They call me the wild rose but my name was Eliza Day...
Look at him. Just look. He’s got everything to kill. Beauty, power, mystery... I would die for him, if he asked. I would kill for him. I was bleeding with pain and summoned God to cut my anguish. If he was the murderer, I would ask him to take my life...
It would be so easy – to be the third victim. To be his Eliza Day.
I peered at this beautiful pair, like a mersmerized rabbit in front of the constrictor. And when for shortest moment of time Philip met eyes to eyes with me, my lifeline faltered and the clock began to speed back to the past. Faster and faster...
 

 
Chapter 8
Forgive me, Eliza

We felt that something happened in distance from the university building. Excited students met us with mysterious smiles but no one gave out why they were so happy. Kathe stole confused looks at them, but the only answer was “You’ll see!” For some minute I thought that police found the murderer. Buy if it was so, no one would be so cheerful today. They would be demanding for immediate revenge, that meant the only – death, as bloody as a man could imagine.
We were late today for classes. I suggested that Kathe could spend a night at mine as the party was at full swing and no one noticed our escape. As it used to be, half of the night we talked about our girlsih tricks, then Juls joined to us and complained about Mike (‘total blockhead’). In her turn Kathe told she was wrong about Dimah and her feelings. In honour of her discernment we decided to have a pizza. Thanks to it, I didn’t have to confess about my own problems.
Our klatch came to the end in half past five in the morning when none of us was able to yawp anymore. The alarm-clock woke us at seven. Kathe turned it off, moved to another side and went on sleeping. I followed her example.
In the end, we could allege for yesterday troubles.
“What do you think they are so glad about?”
I shrugged. Students could be happy with anything – with a free glass of beer, with cheap cutlet in the canteen, with attractive teacher. We didn’t need much to be satisfied.
The mystery turned out a real joy when I saw the cause of the agatation.
“Jacob!” I cried and rushed in his embraces.
He kissed me in my cheeks and shook so that I almost stopped inhaling.
“Anny! Have you always been so beautiful?” He turned me right and left to examine better. I laughed in his hands and wondered in my turn if he had always been so huge.
The crowd that gathered around us dinned and remarked. Jacob roared and tossed me up like a doll.
“Put me down, Jake!” I shouted as the ceiling approached. “Be merciful!”
He put me on the ground. There were so many people around us that I couldn’t express how much I was glad to see him recovered and smiling. There seemed to be no Lisa at all and if he forgot her – whatever cruel it sounded – I was completely delighted. Alive must have kept on living, without mourning for the rest of their lives.
Most of all, I was afraid that he wouldn’t like to see me – such sorrowful memories bound us together. But he didn’t mind. It was easing. My friend came back, even closer than he was before.
I let the eager students bombard him with questions and took place on the bench near the lecture-hall. Kathe sat down near me and pointed at Jacob.
“He seems the same old Jake! St-Petersburg atmosphere profited him much!”
I nodded. If the memories didn’t haunt him he was the luckiest of all. Our ghosts still wandered around us. So did the murderer. Did Jacob know that his beloved was not the only but the first?
I wanted to ask him so much and tell him so much that life seemed to be not enough. Jacob appeared to be the only solid rock in our tempest. Unlike Philip, he wasn’t eager to carry kiloes of other’s guilt. Unlike me, he didn’t get a black mark and wasn’t preparing to the final fight. Still, I could understand that his cheerfulness was as phony as mine. For me the clock ticked on and the H-hour approached.
What could I oppose to Fate?
I didn’t stop thinking over the question. It was stupid of me – to begin expecting death in fifty years before she came. Well, I hoped, somewhere deep within, it would take her fifty years to chase me.
“Hey, Ann, have you seen Leuce today?” Kathe touched my sleeve.
I turned where she was pointing and froze. Leuce walked to the lecture-hall like a sleep-walker and, not watching, fell on the nearest bench. When I was thinking about ghosts, I didn’t pretend the reality to be so ... striking. Lisa looked twice better than Leuce. Pale, with cried out eyes Leuce contemplated the wall in front of her. She didn’t blink – a marble statue, not a human girl.
What happened to her red lips, pink cheeks, seducing eyes?
She seemed to have escaped the murderer, paid with her beauty for it.
“Leuce? Can you hear me?” I hunkered near her and tried to catch her unseeing look.
She didn’t react – a lonely tear slipped down from her left eye. It was a bad sign above all. She was reaching the limits – unable to cry, to breathe. She just sat straight on the bench without any traces of being in reality. I looked around – if someone noticed her state, we wouldn’t get rid of the mockery. Everybody might have remembered that she was the only – save me with my cocroaches – to defend Philip. My idiocy didn’t worry anyone now – being insane could come into fashion soon. For Leuce things weren’t the same. Her former and today’s envyers would taunt her cruelly.
Philip, who else, ruined her - too.
“Is it about Philip, Leu?” Kathe leaned over us.
With his name she burst out crying. Huh, better. She wasn’t a zombie but a very tired and very miserable person. I hugged her softly and put her head on my chest. Kathe caressed her shoulder. I muttered something to lull Leuce down. In some minutes her tears dried out and choking ceased.
“Everything will be alright, Leuce! Do you want me to give him a blow? Two? Three? More blows?” I took her chin in my palms and peered into her pupils.
A shy smile sparkled on her pale lips. Leuce suddenly got embarassed with her weekness and moved away. She took out the mirror and began to freshen herself. With every stroke of lipstick she became more and more placid. Still, there wasn’t any joy.
“Philip has nothing to do with it!” she said to Kathe.
She lied. I understood it from the way she avoided me carefully. I could easily distinguish this lie from a pure truth. Well, I didn’t insist. She could decieve me, but not herself. Philip was dangerous. His collection of broken hearts enlarged with enormous speed.
“That’s okay. You are simply tired!” I clapped her shoulder.
Kathe and Leuce stared at me at once. They both knew I wasn’t the one to be decieved and my sudden retreat surprised them. Kathe was the first to come to her senses. She nodded:
“May be you can miss some classes today. I think that pharmacognosy teacher will empathise you!”
“No, thanks, girls. I will be alright in some minutes. Clara asked me to drop in to arrange the working-off” she winced – Clara Sergeevna wasn’t the one you would demand for working-off. On the contrary, you would be yelling to miss this ‘amusement’. “Also Sandra asked me to go and feed the rats with her so may be, I’ll go to the basement instead of the third lecture!”
She had a sense about rats. These little fur clods with plugs behind were dear to every student of our phaculty. But Leuce was mad about them. She kept six rats at home and usually fed their brothers in university nursery.
The pharmacists were supposed to carry experiments on rats – test new drugs and investigate their metabolism. But when we looked in these little glittering eyes, the hand with a squirt stopped. It was impossible to do harm to these funny creatures. We blew in the basement from time to time to play with animals and give them a bit of cheese.
“Please, take someone with you! It will be safer!” I reminded her.
“I have a weapon!” she smiled and took it out.
Kathe and I stared at the thing. It was the same black-coloured fragment of the same mirror. Stop! It was the same splinter... mine. I snatched it from Leuce and asked where she did get it.
It was lying near the bin on the dean’s floor, she explained. Philip was gadding somewhere and she felt herself unprotected without him around. The building was rather deserted during the voting and she picked it up just in case someone would like her as a third victim. It made her feel safer.
“Did you show it to Philip?” I asked.
She stared at me wondering.
“No, I didn’t. He appeared soon and ... I didn’t have to be afraid... Why do you ask, girls? Is anything wrong with me? Or with the splinter? Is it yours?”
Kathe burst out chukling although there wasn’t too much joy in the sound. More of hysterics.
“I thought some gun would be more useful. That’s alright. You can have it! Just be careful, will you?”
She nodded and flew away, too light-minded for a decisive meeting with Clara Sergeevna. Kathe mumbled something like “Clara will clamp down our bird in a second”. No, Leuce was only simulating cheerfulness – her eyes remained cold and contemplating. I kept in mind to have a decent talk with Philip about Leuce. He got the greatest girl of all the university and he – how dared he? – made her cry.
By the way, this filthy worm didn’t appear in my eyes today and I began to think he was hiding at home. But Kathe – she had already found out – disappointed me saying that he was at rector’s office. Detective Scholman wanted to interrogate him about some details.
For Philip it was better not to attend classes at all. Although the atmosphere wasn’t so tense in the university now, his appearance could destroy this semblance of peace. The murderer was not found and the panic, a little bit weaker, was still ruling over.
Kathe saw that Jacob approached us and, excusing herself, sailed away. Jacob took her place and sighed.
“They are driving me mad. They act like if I was dead and suddenly revived!”
“We all have missed you much!” I ignored his passage about being dead. “Are you going to return once and for all?”
“I am not, Ann. I can admit to you it’s too weird – to walk in this building without Lisa, to breathe air without her. Most of all, I see old friends and become sure that for them nothing changed. Too unpleasant”.
“It’s life” I said.
“Nooo” he protested. “It’s indifference! You are still mourning about her, aren’t you?”
“I mourn... but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to forget!”
“You see... you are a girl... for me, the mourn was over too long ago. Now I can only hate. Hate him for what he had done with her and with me!” he clenched his fists. “I arrived here to revenge, Anny. They all know about it. But they ask me “When?” and I see that for them it’s just another performance. Plus a chance to get the security back. I don’t want to revenge just to amuse them!”
“Who are you going to revenge, Jake? Police haven’t found the murderer yet!”
He mesmerized me with a long, shrill glare. I became uncomfortable under it. He seemed to be reading the very core of my thoughts. It was more embarassing than parading naked in front of millions of people on the Red Square.
“Helen told me you defended the murderer. I didn’t believe. Will you now, watching at me, tell me the same bullshit?”
“What bullshit?” I was confused with his accusation.
 “Who is the murderer, Anny? Don’t tell me you don’t know! Who killed the tutoress? I was in St-Petersburg – too close not to know what happens here. Did Philip kill my girl?”
I jumped on my place, not noticing I attracted everybody’s attention, and shouted.
“Of course, not! Who told you this bosh? Didn’t you manage to ask detective Sholman before picking foolish rumours?”
“The evidences are all against this guy. Either you are blind, or you have your profit, hushing up him! Tell me Anny! What did he promise to you? Huh? Money? I know he is very rich. What did it cost him – your support and help? Emerald skies? I thought there was the only hypocrite in our university... But you! How dare you? You are disgusting!”
He leaped up and quickly went away. I rushed for him.
“Jake! Jake! Wait! You got me wrong! Jake! Everything isn’t that easy! Jake! Just wait! I’ll explain everything to you!”
Jacob didn’t turn back. I fell on the stairs, cursing him and myself. Why didn’t he listen? Blind? He said I was blind. Then he was deaf. I knocked the stair with my fist. The pain spread over my arm fast so that I couldn’t feel the tide of anger and disappointment in me.
Helen – this chief-marmoset – spoilt everything. I pretended her call Jacob and say: “We are already aware who the murderer is. Philip is guilty. You can have him!” They banked fire with Jacob’s hands. If police didn’t punish Philip, they decided to cope with him by own strength. Jacob – whatever self-restrained he was – wouldn’t discuss with Philip the details. He just would go and take care of him. This cold determination in his eyes didn’t leave Philip any chance. I should have interefered the lynching.
But I failed. Jacob already had his aim. Hope, detective Scholman would detain Philip for some time. I rushed to find Jacob and try to explain everything to him. What I was going to explain still remained unclear to me, like how I was going to succeed.
“Where are you hurrying so, Anny?” Kathe stopped me indoors. “Have you forgotten we can’t walk alone?”
In brief I explained Kathe the situation. She asked me not to be such a fatalist. Jacob was talking with Valerie Alexandrovich – these two guys surely had something to discuss. The talk would drag on and we had time to ponder over the possible outlets.
I didn’t expect but during the lecture I came to my senses. The lectoress – greyhaired granny with a short-pony tail, preached something boring about herbs and methods of extraction. Her voice was soft and lulling. On the twelfth minute of the lecture Jacob didn’t seem an odious figure, at fifteenth I understood that my fears about lynching were quite overstated. On the twentieth minute I decided that – in the end – it was not my deal, if Jacob teaches Philip good manners.
They were boys. Boys had special ways to reason out who was right or wrong.
“Hey, Ann, don’t you sleep! Take your pen and set to write. You’ll need the info for the next class!” Kathe poked me into my rib.
My thoughts vanished away, leaving only peaceful slackness. I could always take the recording from Kathe. I comforted myself on the bench, covered my eyes with the fringe and almost fell asleep. When the lecture came to the end, I was really disappointed. And the knowledge had nothing to do with it. The students jumped up on their places, glad that the torment was over. Kathe shook her head, disapproving. Mary and Tany descended from our usual back row and demanded why we separated from the group.
Kathe snarled – we both knew perfectly that if we didn’t, the whole lecture would be dedicated to their new boyfriends. Mary wasn’t enough for Tany to picture her splendid Mike-Kirill-Seva-Peter-or-who-he-was-this-time. She needed a bigger audience – i.e. Kathe and me.
They suggested us to move closer to them. I refused. Kathe said nothing, but her look was alright to go and try luck somewhere else. I volunteered to go to the canteen and Kathe ordered a bun with raisins. I joined the crowd of students making the way to the first floor.
The line was long. A first-courser offered me to have his place in the line. It was surely nice and I – for some reason – felt ashamed. I did never have any merits to be so complaisant about me.
The cuns were hot but too good-looking. I had two for Kathe and two for myself. They hurt my fingers and I danced on my place, trying to cool them down.
“Good morning, Anny!”
I turned and barely caught the cuns. Andrew stood in front of me, simpering. The bruises under his eyes faded a little, but still were seen enough to feel uncomfortable in his presence. Plus he reminded me of former mistakes, I would like to get erased from my memory.
Most of all I hated when he sneaked up to me. This awful habit exasperated me when we dated. He stole up, covered my eyes with a graceful palm and whispered flatteries in my ear. It was supposed to be pleasant.
Fuf... it made me tremble from suddenness.
“Good morning!” I faked a polite smile. “How are you?”
I must have asked it another way, more official, less intimate. So that he wouldn’t have a chance to asnwer so sinisterly “Better than possible, Anny!” He didn’t inquire about my affairs in his turn, but went further. I followed him with a pensive look.
There was something wrong. In his manner, in his intonations... too much of content. He was like a pleased cat. I examined his recessive figure and could not reason out what taunted me about him. Paddy gait, light gestures, white mock – everything was on its place.
But the feeling of something wrong didn’t leave me. I stole closer and continued to watch. He talked to Sandra, they laughed at his joke. I was just too suspicious. Too suspicious...
Kathe snatched her cuns from me and scolded I was so slow. Food, she added chewing, was her fuel and if I wanted my friend to go on without breakage I should have supplied her with it in time. I hardly reacted on her words.
There must have been something wrong – the strange itching in my stomach didn’t let me focus on anything else. The sense of danger arose in me and gripped my heart in a vice.
“Kathe! Where’s Leuce?” I abruptly asked.
“Huh... and when I break finally there will be no one to mend me. Bet on, you’ll be fussing over your Phi... What?” she said.
“Kathe. Where is Leuce?” I asked, every word separate and clear.
She stared at me, uncomprehending.
“Uhmm. You’ve conspired! Ten minutes ago here was Philip with the same question!” she frowned.
“Where is Leuce?” I shook her shoulders in fury. How could she be so stupid?
“Uhmmm, who knows. She said she was going to feed rats with Sandra. May be she is in the nursery! What’s wrong?” she frowned.
Sandra! The wrong was not with Andrew, but with Sandra. She was in the canteen while Leuce was...alone, in the basement. The premonition of the tragedy struck me through.
“Ann, where are you going? What’s happened!” Kathe cried into my back.
 “Kathe! Run and find someone! Jacob or someone else! Please! Leu’s in danger! Philip! Bastard!”
I rushed from the stairs, praying to be just too suspicious. May be Leuce is allright, may be she is still with Clara. May be she is already on her way home... May be I’m just going mad.
The university building appeared to be giantic, the stairs – endless. I jumped over them, almost flied but the speed wasn’t enough to be in time. If he does something to her, if he just touches her... he will pay.
The nursery was empty. I stopped indoors and called. No one answered. There were only rats, rustling in cages. The lights were off and I turned on the lamp. It illuminated the room with ominous red light. Near the corner cage there was a pack of buckwheat, open. The buckwheat scattered over the table and two rats tried to reach it through the bars. Like a sleepwalker I poured the whole pack in the cage and watched how the rats drowned under the cereals.
They fluttered and peeped, suffocated and tried to nibble at the same time. Exhausted I leaned on the table.
There was no Leuce. But the nursrery was open and still saved the traces of her presence. She seemed to be interrupted suddenly.
There was another exit from the basement – to the sewer system. I pushed it. It swept open. Trying not to think what made Leuce descend there I followed the only possible way - to the darkness.
I didn’t have any matches or lantern. The backlight from my cell-phone lightened my steps but it wasn’t enough to see what was on each side from me. If someone attacked me I would unlikely see him, not speaking about defense.
I walked in a dark round-vault tunnel, holding on to the wall. It was covered with mould. Some beetles and worms crept on it, sometimes they plopped down under my shoes. It was disgusting – to step on them. They crushed with snivelling sound.
The smell was awful. A huge hulk seemed to be rotting somewhere near me. I tried not to imagine what it was and what if the scavengers that loitered about it would like to taste me.
All the horror-thrillers that I read before appeared in a new light. Giant rats that inhabited the drainage were just a beginning of the story. Monsters from ‘Alien’ series, mutants from ‘Hills have eyes’, even bogeymen were lurking round the corner, waiting for me...
Although I wasn’t too sensitive, this darkness germinated the first-born fear. My hands couldn’t help trembling therefore dim light from my phone flickered and dissipated.
The tube meandered but didn’t split or crossed with other tubes. I had to walk straight through it, further and further. Another smell admixed to the stench – the iron acrid odor of blood. Human blood. I could distinguish it from millions of similar odors. It pursued me in my nightmares and in my reality.
Every faint sound reflected from humid walls and returned many times enhanced. I should have been calling Leuce but I wasn’t able to cry. My throat froze with fear. The murderer could hear me, not speaking of other terrific creatures. Every breath could give me away and I ceased breathing. The air became unimportant.
The only sound bearable was the rustling of water. The main pipe passed somewhere near me. I pressed my ear to the wall, hoping to hear movement in front of me or behind. The silence was total. There might have been someone in the tunnel, for my senses – the strange thing called intuition - pulled me forward.
There was something to be found, otherwise the door wouldn’t be open so friendly and luring. If it was a trap – 90 per cent – I was walking right in it with no weapon. I never resembled a girl that was going to sell her life expensive.
I was a prey. Without any night vision, I was blind in this darkness, deaf in this silence and scared to death. Still there wasn’t anyone to whom demonstrate my scare so I kept it deep within, jumping when a drop fell from the wet ceiling and broke loudly.
It slowed down my travel – every minute I had to stop and recollect until my trembling soothed to an acceptable level and I could move my legs again.
I didn’t think about Leuce anymore. Well, I tried not to. With every step further my misgiving about her life seemed more and more forced. Leuce whatever spaced out she was would never find herself in such an eerie place. I was the one to travel in sewer tubes, not our glamorous Leuce.
These thoughts brought me to the only conclusion. If not Leuce waited for me in the end of the tunnel, then it was someone more... objectionable.
The name twisted in my brains but I wasn’t ready to pronounce it. Everything was so complicated. I believed him but didn’t want, at the same time I didn’t believe him but wanted. I deserved a good mental treatment, if there existed drugs able to help me.
It was easier to doubt in my normality than think about what I was searching for.
In some point the tunnel divided in two tubes. My intuition kept silence – left or right didn’t matter at all. I could go astray and wander for the rest of my life in this labyrinth. I bucked up and called:
“Leuce!”
The sound tore my ears. I shut them up and dropped the cell-phone. It fell on the floor and shattered. The light faded and the darkness – uninivited guest – covered me with blindness.
I fell on the wet floor and writhed, unable to move forward. The black obscurity was all around me, whispering and wrapping in coldness. I groped about the fragments of my phone. My fingers wallowed in dirt and stuck in slime. I found the glass display and the button-board. The display was cracked, still likely for utilization. The button-board was intact but it was useless without the battery. I crawled on the floor but found nothing, save something thin and round.
It was a metallic rim, size of a man’s wrist. Mechanically I put it on my left hand. The coldness of the metal scorched my warm skin. The rim was too big for my wrist and slithered down on my hand. There it remained, rubbing my finger-bones to blood.
I knew who’s bangle it was. Copper on bronze skin loomed in my memory but I banished it away. Don’t think what’s up there, don’t think... just go on... go forward and be ready, I commanded myself.
Two similar tunnels still were to choose from. Left or right. Right or left. It seemed no big difference.
“Leuce!” I repeated.
Nobody answered. I should have turned back, while it wasn’t too late.
Instead I crawled forward – feeling the floor with all my fours I could be not afraid to fall in a hole or hatch. My trousers got wet in a second, my hands – dirty. I hoped to faint or to cry, but there was no strength for either.
The right tunnel was no better than my former way. The floor was slippery and sticky. I put my hands in the dirt and kept in mind to have them thoroughly washed after the journey. I could get a bunch of every possible infections.
Just in case I had the glass-display in my hand. Its edges were sharp and could cut like a knife. It was somewhat a weapon, still not deserving any mention in my history if I was to fight with someone.
It was better than nothing.
“Leuce!” I shouted again – but there came only an illegible hoarse.
I had to go back. I had to stop and wait for help. Kathe would bring someone along. Jacob, dear Jacob...
In some minutes I understood the tunnel was rising closer to the surface. It wasn’t too much to enjoy but there must have been a well or a manhole. The possible creatures that could attack me stopped disturbing my mind. The darkness, whatever bleak it was, couldn’t do any harm to me.
The only thing that tensed me was the presence of Philip in the tunnel. May be he wasn't here in the moment, but he surely had been here before... And would return to have his bangle back. The last statement was doubtless – Philip was the one to depend on things.
I could bet on my shoes, the bangle had its own long story that closely intertwined with Philip’s. Just another mystery for me.
With every movement forward I made certain there was no one in the tunnel but me. The darkness stuck to me like if she was fed up with loneliness.
I god rid of any being afraid when the tunnel bent in eleventh time. The only feeling that dictated my body was fatigue. Total and irreversible fatigue. It closed my eyes, it made my movements slow and lazy, it made my heartbeat uncertain. If I yielded to it, I could fall asleep right here.
With every minute my chances to be found reduced in times. The proverb about rescuing of drownings was pertinent but senseless. Making the same way back was impossible.
The daylight that penetrated in the very end of the tunnel firstly seemed just another illusion. I rubbed my eyes – it didn’t disappear. With phenomenal speed I crawled to it, thanking the god for rescue. I turned around the corner and saw the stairs. The light was beaming from the room that was upper. I climbed two stairs and glanced at the scenery. It was a safety precaution, just in case if the murderer was lying doggo for me.
It was a gigantic well cave, lit with daylight seeping through a hole in the vault. The walls were covered with moss and slime, fluorescing faint green. The bottom of the cave was paved with bricks. In the very center of the room the bricks formed sort of a pedestal where the light fell from above.
Everything in the cave was covered with blood. Red and vinous, smelling with iron it dried up on the walls. It was an endless sea of blood, flowing, reaching the walls and tiding away. It seemed live and yearning. I bit my lip and – trying not to drown in madness – stared in the corner.
The black figure – with his back turned to the light - was leaning over Leuce. Her bright dress with polka dot was impossible to confuse with anything else. Her right leg was twisted abnormally. The hands lay motionless in the blood.
I stopped breathing, shutting my mouth with my free hand. The bangle scratched my chin. I bit it with teeth, just to hold the uttering shriek. Teeth creaked on the copper, but the blood was absorbing the faint sound.
Leuce was cut in slices. Her body was a sheer lacerated wound, that still bled. Her soft skin was all in shreds, that bared her bones and flesh. The left hand was wrenched in the joint. A bare muscle was just like in the picture of anatomy text-book, strained and tight.
Two delicate fingers drifted near her, separate from the hand. Her red manicure with coquettish spangles, a massive ring on her thumb printed in my mind, like frames from horror-movie. Her beautiful hair, covered with crust of blood were scattered on the floor, tousled and tangled. The tufts adhered to the wall and locks lifelessly hung down.
I watched it all, unbelieveing. I couldn’t realize it was not a joke. Leuce’s face was writhed with agony, two symmetrical cuts on her cheeks divided her face in two parts.
No human could do this to her. It was pure malice, total insanity that moved the hand with the knife. The murderer, that leaned over her, enjoying the picture of her death, was going to pay.
I was sick, my stomach overstrained just to prevent vomitting. My whole body shivered and twitched in terror and disgust. My internals were jumping and weeping, so strong was the feeling of danger. My heart beat so fast that was ready to explode. My throat was dry and the cough suffocated it.
I gasped, not able to breathe even. The spite in me arose suddenly and took me up completely. I wasn’t Baby Ann anymore, I wasn’t a person or a human. I became a strained lump of hatred, shaking and chattering.
The insanity darkened my consciousness finally. Time stopped for me. Now there were only two of us – Death and Revenge.
I compressed the display in my trembling hand and rushed to the murderer with the rhythm, beating in my head: Kill! Kill! Kill!
I flied over the stairs – the figure, lone and ominous approached. It didn’t matter now who he was, for I saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing, but the purest desire to slay. The smell of blood fuddled me.
The reality turned off. I fell on the man and thrusted the glass in his face. He waved his hands and we both slipped in blood and fell right on Leuce. I waled him with the display, his hot blood flew down my hands. They slid and I dropped my weapon.
He protested weakly but aloud. He twisted my hands, trying to bind them. I twitched and plunged my nails in his throat to tear it asunder. The feeling of his hateful flesh under my fingers was like a smell of meat for hungry shark.
He shouted something in my ear. I didn’t hear, for all I focused on now was his heart beat so close. I wanted to root it out and squeeze in my hands until it flowed away like molten snow. My hands snatched his T-shirt and with a jerk it was torn.
I dodged and digged my sharp canines in his naked chest, ready to gnaw his heart out. My teeth didn’t do much harm to him, although left millions of red scars. I stuck into his nipple, pressing my jaws.
His terrific roar exploded in my ears like a gala salute. His pain, his agony was the only thing I desired. Our powers were unequal, but I didn’t care. I was ready to suffer myself, just to make him suffer more.
Suddenly he strained under my grasp and with an unreal effort threw me in the wall. I hit it with my back. Something crunched in my waist. Dim shadow overcast my eyes – the pain was sharp. It jingled in my whole spine and reached the brains. I thought I broke my back - the immobility fettered me, motionless.
I fell near the wall. The shroud of hatred slowly worked down from my sight. I began to distinguish the scenery again. The understanding of tragedy happened hit me down and I shuddered with first tears of regret.
Leuce... my little dear Leuce... Cheerful girl with endless list of contacts. Leuce with endless hours of working-off. With smile of happiness on her red lips. Joie de vivre in her was insuperable. And now she had no life to be glad about. No more time for parties and boy-friends, for sprees and booze-ups. For her, it’s the end.
The blackened man in the corner arose on his knees. I watched him probe for the knife – silver blade with red plastic handle. He turned to me, like in a slowed shooting.
The heaviness vanished from my body. I moved my hands to check if they worked. The weariness weighted them down, but fingers moved. I clenched my fist, ready to stand my ground.
The murderer raised his head and the light fell on his face. I shrieked and covered my face with hands not to watch it. I had been decieveing myself for so long that this encounter turned out a shock for me. It was obvious from the very beginning but I had done everything to be mistaken.
Now I was to requite.
The tears tickled my eye-lashes but my eyes were dry. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t cry. I wasn’t able to breathe at least, but suffocated with every inhalation. The air rubbed my hurt lungs.
Philip, my beloved Philip, my only love in this life held the knife in his hand and approached.
No, I tried to gather up, I wasn’t going to give up that easy. Love wouldn’t prevent me from fighting for life. My body was so strained that I persuaded it to relax before the final lunge. I couldn’t help shivering. Thoughts like carousel flashed in my head. It was impossible to concentrate on defense and find the way out.
How could he? I asked myself, unable to stand the distance.
When I was about to attack first, he dashed forward and fell on me, catching my waving hands. In a second he got them both in his right hand and pushed under my body. His legs pressed mine to the floor. I coiled and twisted under his weight, but my chance was lost. Without my hands and feet I could only call names but do no harm to him.
Philip raised the knife over my face. I respired brokenly and followed his hand with a hateful glare. The moment stretched like rubber, absorbing seconds in its vast mouth. In my eyes the future converted into the past, for one millionth of second lingering in the intermediate state of ‘present’.
The invisible sandgrains in my hour-glass fell with unheard tap. The knife approached my neck. Every breath became more and more prolonged, deeper. My chest heaved and slowly sank.
One grain... two grains... the last one..
I inhaled last time and closed my eyes. The knife gleamed over me. The moment ceased for eternity.
Warm lips covered mine in a mournful kiss. Philip threw the knife away and fell on me. His body quivered in desire. His free hand got into my hair and caressed them, moving my head closer to him. I felt my own lips open towards him and yearn for more ardour.
Lust was criminal. It smelled blood and sounded dying screams. But I couldn’t help wanting him. My mind appealed to my common sense. There wasn’t common sense in me at all, but pure hunger for his touches, for kisses, for insanity that he brought along. It tided over me, like a sea of boiling tar. The heat turned me inside out, broke my limbs and burnt my skin.
Lust was irresistible.
With every second passed he grew more and more persistent. His hand set my hands free and I – oh, lord – pressed him closer to my chest. I wanted his heart to beat near mine in perfect harmony. His body was about to be forged with mine in momentary jerk.
His lips tore mine. His teeth digged into my lips, biting them through to blood. I chattered and breathed in his orange taste. The world was spinning around me in a cetrifugal motion, my head spinned with it. Everything became vain – the fight, the hatred, the life and the love also. They were empty words.
Lust was the only thing that existed in the end. Animal, primitive fever that burned us from within. Covered with blood we wallowed in the lake of red. I dodged from his lips and buried my face on his bare chest, dotting with ardent kisses. His hands entwined around my waist and lifted my nates. I groaned.
Lust was asphyxiating.
Philip suddenly wheezed and shrunk back. I moaned over my loss and opened my eyes wide. Philip writhed in a meter from me, agonizing with pain, as if one of my kisses was poisoned with curare. A hoarse burst from his throat. He choked with blood – the little drops appeared on his lips. He licked them away. His mouth immediately got dry.
His eyes were fading away. He tried to focus them on me, but it didn’t work. The spasms of pain shook his body and threw him on the floor. He fell and vomitted. The emetic masses were mixed up with blood.
“Ann!” he hissed and the foam came out on his lips.
I grimaced with disgust. This creature had nothing same with Philip. It twitched in death-pangs and looked no more like a human. His lineaments distorted in ache, eyes rolled up and the hands clawed the floor as if trying to reach the remedy. He convulsed and panted for air.
He awkwardly sprawled on the floor and I saw the wound. It was a ragged laceration in his chest. Blinded with hatred and revengefulness, I didn’t notice it before. It bled, the edges clotted and crumbled. Philip grasped his chest, hiding his maim from me. He was utterly in blood.
Red. Red syrup was everywhere around me.
Then it ended. His breath evened and soothed. Pain moved away, preparing for another – final – attack. He raised his tear-stained face to me and I read the last plead in it. I rushed to him, still misunderstanding.
“Ann!” he breathed out weakly. “Your last kiss cost me too much!”
I lay his head on my knees and caressed his hair. He spitted out the blood and hoarsed.
“What happened, Philip? Why have you killed her?” I asked.
My eyes stung with tears but I faked a bitter smile and leaned over him. I would think about everything later. I would grieve over Leuce later, too, for now I had strength only to watch him and ask.
“I didn’t kill Leuce! It wasn’t me. I found her here, dead, when he suddenly attacked me from my back. I couldn’t react. He stabbed me two times and it was enough. I just dragged the knife from my chest! The same knife he killed her!” he hissed.
I peered at him, unseeing. I forgot I had to asnwer something, to ensure him I believed... or not. I didn’t understand what happened. My consciousness left me, pushed in darkness. I didn’t think of anything, just mechanically fingered his beautiful raven hair and cleaned them from blood.
“Ann?” he sighed.
I focused on him. Believed or not – did it really matter now? He will die. I will go on the old way until I die too. May be it will happen tomorrow, may be in million years. My trust or ditrust didn’t play any role in our performance anymore. Just two words, differing in meaningless prefix ‘dis’.
“Ann?” he pled.
His hand found mine and grasped. Five blue prints appeared on my skin.
“I trust you!” I said.
My heart faltered. I lied to him, although the lie seemed insignificant. He would die and never know that I lied. I simply didn’t know if I trusted him. I wanted. I surely wanted to believe but his fantastic story made no sense. I could do a favour to the dying as it was too little for me.
A pitiful smile played on his lips. I wasn’t a good liar. He read the truth from my face as I felt the color of ashame touch my cheeks. A favor for dying – one single, tiny lie...
“I trust you!” I repeated.
And the tears burst out, a real waterfall. Crystal diamonds fell on Philip’s cut face and washed blood from it. They flew down his face and broke in millions of rainbow drops. I cried and the tension left me, left me in peace I had been waiting for so long.
I had never been so firm in the words I said, because these words were a complete truth. I believed him. Because I loved him. Even if he lied, even if he killed my friend, even if he was guilty, I loved him anyway. It was the essence of love – I was ready for anything he would make me into. I was ready to love him whatever he was.
I did believe him. And now – watching in his dimmed pupils - I suddenly understood what a price I paid for the comprehension. Last favour for dying. Dying.
Dying.
“NOOOOOO!”
I fell on Philip, writhing in histeric laughter. My beloved, the one I needed most of all in this cursed life, was dying and I sat on my hands. I couldn’t help him agonizing. I couldn’t heal his wounds. I was useless. I deserved death, not him!.
“Don’t die, Philip, please. Fight! Fight for life!”
Inevitably, slowly, on my eyes – dying!. His look grew distant. Skin turned pale. Breathing hard, he smiled to me. There was so much sorrow in his smile that I refused to look at it. I wasn’t going to lose him. The murderer got his third victim. Why did he take Philip from me?
“I must run” it dawned me. “I must call for help. They’ll cure you!”
He held me back with his firm fingers.
‘Ann. You don’t trust me. The more they won’t. The only help they can give me is a favour of... a fast death! Stay with me... I need you... I want you ... to be close...”
His voice faded. I snatched his fingers in my deadly grasp. I wasn’t going to humble. I held his lifeless shoulders and shook with an incredible strength that appeared in me from nowhere. All the same it wasn’t enough to tear him from death’s hug.
Philip roared and coiled in just another spasm of pain. His eyes rolled up and the foam spattered on my knees. I kept his head straight so that he wouldn’t suffocate. It didn’t work. His breath turned out gasping again. He spitted clods of flesh and blood and hoarsed, hoarsed, hoarsed.
The red tears appeared in his eyes. Red gauze sectionized his whites so that they seemed totally demonic. The flash in his pupils was nothing more of reality.
His agony was unbearable for him and for me to watch. Invisible demons tore his body asunder, poured poison on his bleeding wounds and promised Hades. I shut up my ears not to hear his howl. It didn’t help. He clutched at my hand, searching for soothing.
“Ann! Please... pull the plug!” he squeezed in a moment of slight relief.
If I ever knew I was able to cut the life of my beloved, I would never-never believe. But my own desires and the general plan of the Universe had nothing the same. Philip was suffering and if I had to cease it, I was ready.
The knife was waiting for its hour in the corner. I stepped over Leuce’s body and picked it up. My hands trembled and I dropped it. Another Philip’s roar shook the vault. I pressed the knife in my hand and walked to him.
“Anne!” the brisk voice rang close. “Anne! Where are you? Hold on! We are reaching!”
Kathe, my devoted friend, found me, finally.
“Anne! Don’t stop fighting. Jacob is with me. He’ll rescue you!”
“They’ll rescue us!” I encouraged people, raedy to throw away the knife. “Everything will be alright! The help is near. They’ll save you!”
“They’ll kill me!” He shouted and the bloody foam crimsoned my pale hands. “Just do it for me... you! Hurry up!”
My hand with a knife faltered. I bit my lip not to scream, not to let any sound of hesitancy escape my mouth. My teeth chattered and ears began to bleed too. I couldn’t help quivering. The knife in my hand was shaking so that I wasn’t able to raise it up.
I’m not a killer. I can’t, Philip. I love you.
 “Ann!” Kathe’s voice was almost behind my back.
“Ann!” Jacob called.
His roar reflected from the walls and the echo spread over the vault like a thunder.
“Ann!” Philip’s barely heard pled oozed through it and touched my ears like a fresh breeze of the spring.
I love you. I’ll do it for you.
I lifted my hand, solid and firm. I’ll do it. For you.
And- twice for a day - the moment lingered, incredibly long. The sounds around me faded, like if I was in a cocoon of silence. I heard nothing but the air cut with the knife. The sound stretched and lingered, too. I saw myself from outside – a girl with a glittering blade, ready for the last stab. Like in a dance my arm bent, the wrist relaxed and the knife draw invisible line in the air, flying away.
For you. Take it for now it’s yours.
I pressed my shivering lips to his fervent fingerbones and cut the thread.
The outburst of pain ran through my body. It twitched and coiled. My legs didn’t hold me – I fell, wriggling, clutching at the blooded floor. The pain braided me in millions of knots, corrupting my muscles. The heat spread over my body, melting the flesh. My skin rawed and hung shreds, my bones crumbled to ashes and crunched in teeth
The light from everywhere cauterized my eyes. I tried to cover them with my palms, but the sun visible only for me was burning down my hands.
My hair moved like if trying to crawl away from this heat. I hoarsed and hissed, my throat was burnt and every endevour to have a word was like rubbing with grater. My stomach eploded and the hydrocloric acid poisoned my viscera. All vital liquids evaporated from my organism, taking life alone.
Everything was like in my death-dream. Whatever it foretold, everything came true in details. I couldn’t fight the heat that fried me like a grill-chicken. I couldn’t stand the pain as my skin bubbled and went shreds. I couldn’t even weep it out.
“Ann!” Philip’s voice came through the ring in my ears. “What’s happening? Ann!”
I opened my mouth but no shriek escaped it. I wanted to shout, but there was no slightest peep. I became totally numb and blind.
“Ann!” his hands shook my shoulders.
The touch was awful – I pushed him away.
“Ann!”
I turned to the place where his voice came from and strained. More. Just a little bit more. I clenched my fists and bawled:
“Fly! Fly away! Fly, damn you! Drop dead and never come back! Fly aw...!” I hoarsed but the end of the sentence was needless.
Another flash tortured my blinded eyes and the sun within my eyes went out. The darkness- merciful darkness, blessed drakness - covered me with its cool blanket. I choked on the floor, spitting the remainders of terror out.
The pain continued to roast me. But it was not the crushing pain, that wrenched my limbs. It resembled the cut of the knife, all over my body. A complete acid burn.
Compared with what I had before it was bearable. No, it was desirable.
The sight slowly returned to me. Through the red dim I began to distinguish the walls, the shining hole in the celieng through which Philip flew away. Then Leuce’s body became faintly visible through the haze in my eyes. I wanted to crawl to her but my legs didn’t obey me, two useless things.
My skin was bleeding. I wasn’t injured, save my soul, but my skin was bleeding. It was impossible, but biology laws didn’t work here. Red drops appeared here and there, gathered in streamlets and flowed away, merging in the shoreless lake of blood on the floor.
I watched it indifferently. My pains didn’t matter anymore. They were even nesessary for while I felt the ache, I knew I was still alive. It was all I could ask for – maintaining life in the man who wasn’t striving to live was ridiculous.
I lost everything I had – my friends, my love, my voice, my wings. And – the greatest mockery of all – I was left time to think over it. To finger the memories. To recall. Millions of hours.
Tomorrow. I will begin tomorrow.

Chapter 9
Hibernated

We both survived. May be, someone from above decided we haven’t suffered enough. May be He thought we had deserved another chance. May be He just wanted to see the sequel of out thriller. But by His Curse or by his Favour when ambulance arrived to get Leuce’s dead body, she appeared not dead at all. Her heart was beating – so weak that only a modern apparatus could register it.
She was operated on the same day. Doctors worked on her organs, trying to mend every single detail in her machinery. There wasn’t any intact organ – her whole body was nothing but a heap of rags, soaked with blood. Possible or impossible, the doctors did everything in their powers: they even fixed back her torn away fingers.
The operation lasted for eight hours. But Leuce didn’t wake up. Her heart beat remained weak and uncertain. Her eyes were closed. She was sleeping a deathly slumber, so indifferent about the fuss around her. She seemed not to care at all, if the hospital was crowded with people who waited for her, if the doctors sweated and fell down exhausted. She barely cared that in my empty ward, two storeys above her I prayed to the gods. I summoned them, biting my parched lips, wincing from pain with every movement.
They had more important business, perhaps, - no one answered me.
After the operation she was moved to the comatoser’s floor, special section for those who dwelled between death and life. Leuce could stay in coma for two days or – for the rest of her life. But while she was sleeping we had a chance. This chance was vitally important for us, may be, even more than for Leuce. She didn’t care, happy one.
Her slumber was more of death, than life. She breathed three breathes per munute, her pulse remained untangible, her eyelids were tight closed. The devices registered activity in her brains, but she hardly moved on her bed. Wrapped around with dozens of tubes and droppers she resembled a new-born monster from Japanese horror thriller. Redness disappeared from her cheeks. Even four sessions of blood transfusion didn’t help – she was pallid and transluscent as if from another side – ultramundane one – Lisa and the tutoress pulled her out of our world, sucking life from her. She seemed dead, irreversibly dead that only a pure misuderstanding held her to this life.
Her parents were forbidden to visit her – when poor mother saw what happened to her daughter, she was ambulanced with a extensive brain insult. Her father, strong respectable man got into the asylum. But the loyal friends were around her, every day kept vigil near her bed, held her hand and talked, talked to her, not daring to hear the answer ever more. Kathe and others didn’t let her an hour alone, until the chief-doctor pushed them away for the night.
At night, when the lights died out and the hospital plunged in darkness I stood guard near her. I was like a soldier near the Eternal Fire – voiceless and solemn. These meetings – even if they lacked meaning and reason – were soothing. In an odd meaning Leuce, unconscious and silent, was my only bond with the outer world where my classmates, my friends, my relatives waited. I came to Leuce every night, sat near her bed and watched her peaceful face, smiling. I knew she was there. She was close to me and I could feel her invisible presence. I had so much to tell her, but I kept numb.
I couldn’t talk at all. Indiscernible hoarse came out from my mouth. My throat was dry and the air escaped it with sick whistle. I plugged it up and gasped. The doctors prescribed me to wear a special mask to moisten the inhaled air. The mask covered my sight and impeded. When no one saw me I took it off, although it was a real deal – to potter about it.
I lost my voice. For old Anne, Baby Ann, it would be a rather big loss. She was fond of words, for her they meant much. She used to mind them, to care about them – they could injure and heal, love and hate. Words... Now they were nothing and this ‘nothing’ I didn’t have. They cost zero, especially now – when people I wanted to talk to could never hear me. Leuce and Philip, both drifted somewhere else. For other people, even for the closest ones, I had no words.
My life cracked for ‘past’ and ‘nowhen’. Past was before I gave my wings to Philip – just never to get them both back. I gave them on my own will. It was my choice. I knew what would happen after. Instinctively, I felt what a pain it would cause.
But I had never known that it would be this fatal. With the wings I gave away not only my life, but the will to live itself. And from then on I had my ‘nowhen’ – endless, unsteady presence in reality. It was impossible to call life, but it was better than nothing at all.
The whole day I spent in a hospital ward, three storeys above Leuce. It was more of a prison than of recreation ward. The doctors wrapped the tubes around me, attached medicine droppers and turned on the devices. They began to drone and, heating up, spread the warmth over the ward, dried the air. In the night I ripped off the droppers and climbed to the window-sill. The ventlight got open only after decent effort, when I, exhausted, fell on the floor unable to move. This every night motion took the last strength from me.
I hated the ward, say it mildly. The narrow bed in the net of cords was created not for sleep, surely, but for dying. The white walls with random touches of disgusting pink arose the blues in me so that I was ready to howl and climb on the wall. Every morning when the timid daylight penetrated through the curtained window I stared in the whitewashed ceiling and pretended I could fly away from this prison and no more doctors would dictate me how to lie, how to breath and how to move. Dew to their recommendations I might have died the very first day but I lingered, clinging to life, breaking all possible rules and regulations.
They said “Don’t move” and I tossed in my bed, fell from it and stubbornly crawled from the ward. They forbade me to eat anything except porridge and I swallowed ‘Snickerses’ that my compassionate friends passed to me through my nurse. I hid them under mattress and rebelled when doctors searched it through. They prohibited to connect with the outer world, considering it healthless for my nerves. My friends passed me letters, hiding them in Leuce’s mattress. I escaped from my ward at nights and slipped to hers. The doctors placed guard to prevent me from night-travels.
Fuf. My guardians were people. I waited patiently until the human needs prevailed over the duty (not too long, actually) and drove away on a wheel-chair. The pain I felt constantly didn’t let me to move on my own – I simply couldn’t stand on my feet, not to mention any walking.
The doctors took away my faithful ‘horse’ for nights and I – groaning and scolding – made my whole way on hands and knees.
When used the wheelchair, I was in my bed at eight am, waiting diligently for the morning round. Only my tired face preserved the traces of sleepless night. But when they took away my transport, I couldn’t make the same way back and in the morning they found me lying near Leuce’s bed with my eyes wide open.
Like a heroine of ‘Freddy Kruger’ thriller I refused to sleep. Nothing could make me – the sedatives and somnolent drugs didn’t work. Doctors shrugged and increased the dosage. I took it and spent the entire night, vomitting in the lady’s room – white nighted.
The doctors cursed my organism that palmed off so many surprises to them. They sighed, shook heads and went on prohibitting, prescribing and examining me carefully twice a day, hoping for some improvement.
I didn’t know why they were so strained about me. In fact, I had recovered days ago and these endless medical procedures only bothered me but didn’t change anything in my condition. I could easily explain that I would not be any better, but they ensured me in the contrary.
For them my condtion could be characterized only as ‘pre-death’. My pulse was thity beats in a minute, my blood preasure remained sixty to forty. I couldn’t help bleeding, every cell of my skin was sheding blood like tears. I had to wear the bandages – my body was wrapped in special material that absorbed the blood. It was the only useful thing – the blood didn’t dry up. I had a sense on tearing off the bloody crust.
At the same time the volume of blood circulating in my veins didn’t diminish. My body lost two or three litters of blood a day. The supplies of blood replenished automatically – and this fact surprised doctors even more than my endless vigil. They gathered conferences, invited famous scientists to comment and examined me with magnifier. Like a shy tortoise I hid in my shell, pulling the blanket on my ears. Their abstruse talks drove me crazy but I put up with it, hoping they would get fed up soon and let me go home.
I didn’t mention my constant head-ache and heart-ache. Bleeding was enough for poor grey-haired guys. I got used to suffering from ringing in my head, from fever in my internals. But the worst were my hands. They not only bled. The feeling of my skin torn in shreds and pulled from my flesh seemed to worsen from day to day. Sometimes it was unendurable and I digged my teeth into the pillow and tore it in pieces until the pain soothed a little. I wanted to cry it out most of all, the tears must have given me the easing, a little bit would suffice.
There were no tears left. I strained them out, but my eyes remained dry like a desert.
The bath was – nothing new – prohibited. Water was like poison. When it touched me, my skin bubbled and ulcerated. I hoarsed, trying to utter a shriek. The touch of the softest towel after this torture was deathlike and I dried up under the fan, while the cool air blew on me.
Nevertheless I continued to wash my face every morning – my face was the only element that didn’t suffer from water. The procedure could be more pleasant if I did it by myself. The bandages bound me like a bird in a cage... a very small cage. The nurse rubbed my face with soap, I sniffed, then she cleaned my teeth and the only thing I had to do was to watch her skilled movements in the mirror.
The same nurse – nice old woman with a pack of grandsons that visted her from time to time – spoon-fed me with porridge and got personally insulted when I refused to eat more of the slush. She walked away with a half-done plate. In the sleep-hour she returned, like we had no misuderstandings about the meals.
I liked to watch her sit in an armchair for visitors (mostly for star-scientists), take out her knitting and set about the work. She knitted so fast, so proficient were her fingers that I froze on my bed and mesmerized the run of the needles in her hands. The clew of wool melted and disappeared in her hands. The threads turned in fantastic patterns, soft and weightless. This sacrament, held right on my eyes, entranced me and I felt something alike with zest for life.
While knitting she talked to me. Her melodic voice enchanted and I listened, less for information, more for the tune. She told about her grandsons and her wrinkled face smoothed with delight. They were two fidgety boys and usually caused much trouble in school. Their adventures didn’t disappoint her a little – about every spoilt clasroom door, burnt journal or furious teacher she talked like if it was her own achievement, deserving a Nobel Prize. She desribed the fights and smiled when counted how many bruises her dearest terrors did to the rivals.
The boys dropped in to granny. They always brought her self-cooked biscuits, proud of themselves. She nibbled with pleasure and complimented boys for extraordinary cooking talents. They inquired about my health and always got my formal smile that passed for “I’m feeling cool, thanks”. They pulled the cords, pressed random buttons on devices until they began to peep indignantly. Then the boys – it had become a mandatory ritual – dumped the dropper and ran away to get prepared for another trick. Their granny adjusted back the dropper and took the biscuit from a big tin box.
It was our own secret ritual. Only mine and hers. My lips accepted the biscuit with sweet foretaste, I cracked it and... spitted back. The nurse chuckled and we exchanged understanding looks. The biscuits – whatever she told her beloved grandsons – were disgusting: buttery, with too much sugar that crunched on my teeth and left cloying viscousity on my tongue. She threw the remainders of biscuits in the bin and lay the box aside – till the next visit.
In the next visit things repeated accurate within smallest details.
I couldn’t have any of intercouse by defintion of my numbness. With her I got a semblance of it, that was enough: unable to talk I didn’t want to get a fame of a grateful listener.
Nevertheless when she left me alone I didn’t feel any disapponitment. I wasn’t given any loneliness at all – she went but others took her place. The interminable train of questions seemed ridiculous. I wasn’t able to answer – words didn’t come out, hands didn’t move right. Gestures required more mobility from my hands. I had neither – bandaged I only shook my head, nodded and moved my shoulders in a parody of shrug. It caused too much pain that ‘yes’ was hard to tell from ‘no’.
The professors wanted more from me. They invented alphabets, new systems for deafs and even made me point in letters on a gigantic children ABC-poster. I bore it because my objections weren’t paid any attention. Well, nobody simply realized I was objecting.
During the day, while the infinite line of doctors and scientists, nurses and even mages-sorcerers-frauds didn’t let me dissolve in thoughts and memories, my inprisonement was bearable. But in the night I climbed on the wheelchair , awkwardly bending and wrenching my disobedient limbs, and drove to Leuce. I was very careful while moving through the deserted dark coridors to the lifts. The building was old and so were the lifts. They creaked and groaned. I looked around, praying that no one would hear me.
Everything was silent. I descended to Leuce’s storey and drove to her ward. It was cluttered with bunchs – in vases, in jugs, scattered on the window-sill – flowers were everywhere. They smelled heavy, the dense odor of lillies was tangible.
Leuce liked flowers very much. They inspired her to live, she said. Her friends recalled this phrase and heaped her up with them, hoping she would recover soon.
In some meaning she was lucky: doctors permitted visits. Friends, classmates, teachers and simple sympathizers rushed to her. They crowded near the hospital, lined near her ward and spent fixed three minutes near her bed. Throughout this short meeting someone of our classmates guarded Leuce, sitting in a big armchair. The visitors felt uncomfortable under their looks and hurried to go away. Most of them considered their mission fulfiled an didn’t come again. Others – friends mostly – dropped in with importunity, irritating doctors and nurses. In four days of this welter the chief-doctor prohibited any visits.
Kathe and co weren’t to be driven out so easy. Kathe made the running and organized opposition. Students who weren’t on guard in the morning ran to the hospital after clases to shift the mates. The doctor was stubborn and called for police. Kathe spent half of the day in a police-office, made friends with two young Gypsy girls and returned to her post just to go on hunger-strike. The doctor could get one more comatose girl and he – allowed only seven of them to Leuce.
All the news I learnt from long Kathe’s letters. She strived to visit me but had to be content with doctor’s short reports. These reports came to one conclusion: “Ann is alive, but not enough to be visited!” My classmates rebelled but could do nothing. Not only doctors, but the police was also involved.
I was the only witness. The murderer should have come to take care of me. I saw him. I could testify.
Well, the main problem was exactly with testimony. Detective Scholman inquired about my condition (okay, about condition of my talking abilities) every day. I had to disappoint him – my head stored terabytes of information, but my tongue wasn’t able to give away a bit.
Once he had a go. He brought me a pile of documents, put them on my bed and began to ask. He was tired, very tired and looked much older his age. Cyan hollows under his eyes resembled bruises. He moved slowly, awkwardly and smoked cigarette after cigarette. He had never smoked near me before and I could bet he got this awful habit not long ago. His sallow fingers trembled.
The blooded scenery in the vault was not for nervous people. Maimed Leuce, bleeding Ann and no murderer at all. He seemed to escape from under his nose. Kathe and Jacob swore that no one could steal by them in the tubes. Detective Scholman could puzzle over for eternity. I was the only to clarify things but I was deaf.
“Ann!” he asked me. “Do you remember what happened?”
I nodded. This time my memory refused to keep back anything. I remembered too clear to fall asleep in the night.
“Who was there, in the vault?”
I stared at him deprecatorily. He altered the question.
“Were there three of you?”
I nodded.
“You?” a nod. “Leuce?” a nod. “Murderer?” a vigorous denial.
Detective was surprised and asked the same stupid question again, thinking he got me wrong. The game repeated and he – perplexed with the ending – lost how to ask the question another way.
“Was there Philip?” he tried.
I nodded. His eyes became two chinks, too very mistrustful chinks. He found a contradiction in my words. I tried to draw in the air that when I arrived to the place the murderer had already disappeared. He watched my strokes and flaps with a puzzled expression. I made faces, twitched in the bed but nothing helped. This way people watch gorillas in a zoo – funny, human-like, inconcievable creatures.
“Do you want to say that Philip didn’t kill?” he caught.
I smiled and nodded. His face remained gloomy. To consolidate the success I acted again the episode with Philip dying from the wounds. I carefully avoided any hints on what we did before it. The awful perception of my guilt weighted me down – for if not my idiotic lust he might have lingered one more moment to get the help. I tried not to think about. I abstracted my mind from any mention of our relations. I told about Philip like about my classmate and nothing more.
It was convenient, but some things made the detective nonplused.
“The knife? He thrust the knife?” he interpreted my grimacing.
I got angry and shook my head.
“There are his fingerprints on the knife! We got the samples the same day earlier in rector’s office!” he explained. I objected: there were also my fingerprints. I pointed at my fingers and implied they had to sample mine too.
He didn’t get it. I went mad.
“Why do you advocate him?” he asked suddenly.
All my attempts were in vain. Everybody, even detective, were totally sure that Philip was guilty. His timely flight (shoot, what a truth!) kicked up a row. All the evidences were against him. Philip was right – if he stayed in Moscow, they would tear him in pieces, then burn and disperse ashes in the wind. Now he was not a suspect but on trial.
My silent endeavours to whitewash him were disastrous. Detective Scholman flew into a rage, grabbed away the documents and left. He alarmed all the instituitions – they were rummaging the city in search of Philip. They found no trace. The flat was empty and unihabited. The files in his computer were nothing but a poetry-book and manuals. His farther was in Spain, out of reach and he refused to speak with detective by cell-phone.
While they were barking up the wrong tree, the murderer was close and ready for final strike. I felt myself like a trapped hare that waited until either wolf or hunter found him. I could not escape from my ward and the expectation made me sick. If I just could fly away like Philip...
The only thing they could do was to put the guard in my wing. Six terrific bulls with guns stayed on my floor in the night. It must have prevented the killer from indtruding and me – from fleeing. Ridiculous! I wasn’t the one to flee – bandaged and hurt. Every movement caused pain, unbearable and strict. It was a mockery – to think I was really able to go.
I didn’t want. Fleeing meant I returned to life and this was the last thing I aspired for. Just being left in peace. Alone, preferably. Presence of anyone around me – especailly the white-mocks – didn’t harmonize with my ideas of peace.
Well, my guardians weren’t any problem if I would like to flee, finally. From one to five am they played poker in a staffroom. Bet on, they considered to guard a little crazy girl a mean boring deal. I hoped it was so.
I slipped, unseen, by the staffroom. Absorbed totally in the cards, my guardians were no use in guarding. Even my creaking wheel-chair couldn’t distract them from the game – they heard nothing, save the glad shouts of winners.
The devices in Leuce’s ward flashed with numbers and words. The graph line crawled on the black screen, crooking with every heart beat. A short peep accompanied rare movements of her chest. The shadows danced on her cheeks and lowered on her hands, stretched on the bed. The liquids flowed down the tubes, filling the body with life. But the body didn’t accept, seized and aspired for deliverance.
May be, it would be merciful of me to pull the plug. One last favor. May be, it was the thing she wanted. But I couldn’t be sure hundred percent. It was the thing I would like for myself. She was about to fly away, to be free forever and her friends – stupid creatures – continued to fetter her to the ground. They didn’t let her go, considering they had a right to claim on her life.
I knew what it felt like – flying. I remembered. The itching in your veins and the chance to have the skies open for you – for the rest of your life. It was a freedom humans begged throughout times, some of us aware what price we should pay for it.
Immortal soul departed from the body and disapperaed in blue vastness. Someone said we went to paradise if merited it. Someone – that we turned into birds and flown to southern spheres. Someone promised us to becom clouds forever pouring their tears on people we had to leave behind. Whatever we turned into, we all lost the sense of gravitation and soared in the skies.
Leuce might have liked it – that’s why she didn’t manage to come back.
As for me, the itching in my veins was gone. It was my own choice and under pain of death I would never take back my decision. It was my fee for love, for hope, for the life of my beloved.
Beloved. Philip. Gone.
I didn’t think of him. I prohibited and the sound of his name caused nothing but clear exact memories, not a trace of emotions. It was said to be impossible. Well, it was! To tear out the name of your only love from the chest... with your heart... with your hopes.
I lied. It was no problem. He took my heart along and all the sweet moments that were saved in it were gone too. I didn’t need to restrict and restrain myself – I had nothing to restrict.
Leuce. I thought of Leuce all the time. I remembered what she used to be and –indifferently – compared with what she was now. It didn’t torture me. She was luckier than me. One more cut and she would be free, while I had to agonize.
I lied. I lied constantly to myself, trying to bring back the senses that were so important during my former life. I lied and pretended to believe the bullshit I created in my thoughts.
Nothing. Nothing at all. No slightest reflection, not grain, no drop. Nothing at all. I felt nothing at all. No feeling. I recalled how the feelings looked like, how they worked on my mind and my body and acted like it must have been. My actor’s talents were to the heck. I knew what it felt like but hardly could reiterate. If someone heard my thoughts, he would make me executed at the same minute.
All the human feelings I possessed before were gone. No hatred, no love. No sympathy, no guilt. I would be an excellent killer – without any condolence, without a beam of humanity in my soul. Now I was a demon – the darkest soul. Nothing mattered at all.
I smiled, because I remebered I had to – in some situations. I felt displeasure when I must have had to. I acted the way I must have acted. My acting wasn’t too proficient, I couldn’t decieve my friends or my parents. But there was no one of them to unmask me.
My soul was deaf and blind not only in metaphorical sense.
Therefore I knew that someday they would come to judge me – twelve girls. Winged creatures, that called themselves Keepers. Fairies. My former colleagues. They warned me, love wouldn’t bring anything good. They told I would suffer. They told me I would lose my wings and shed tears about it. Life taught me right what they said.
What wondered me a lot – why they came so late. I’d been inhabiting the ward for a month already when they came in the night. At some moment I even thought they wouldn’t ever come. This fact could make me act disappointed.
I was glad to see a familiar red head among the strange faces. The girls gave up the stupid recommendations and turned out to be themselves. They all were suprisingly different, too human. At first sight you couldn’t define anything fairy-like in them. Only feet that didn’t reach the floor gave their nature away. So used to floating in the air, they seemed to have forgotten what it was like – standing on the ground. Only Eva landed near me and sat on the edge of my bed.
“Can you hear me?” she asked.
Her lips didn’t move. Nevertheless her voice, calm and confident, sounded clear in my head. I nodded. Fairies, what else do they have to wonder me?
“If you just think something for me, I’ll hear you!” she told.
I blinked. If I had any feelings left, I would, probably, got confused.
For you? Can you hear what I think?
“I do” she answered my unsounded question.
What have you come for? I don’t need the pity. I am alright.
The fairies animated and moved closer. By their curious faces I got that only Eva could hear my thoughts. That was easing. Who liked twelve girls at the same time, rummaging in his head? Not me, at least.
“Why have you done it, Ann?”
I didn’t answer.
“He’s a demon and you gave him the greatest gift of Nature. Why? How dared you?”
You know I loved him.
“You can’t!” Eva exclaimed and the fairies shrunk back in one simultaneous movement. They couldn’t get out what I was answering, but Eva’s reaction showed it was no good.
He was dying and I saved his life.
“One less demon on this planet wouldn’t be a loss!” She said.
If it’s all you came for, you can go. I loved him. I love him. That’s the point. I told it to you. You seemed to understand somehow. What can you offer me now? If you just came to interrogate me, I have nothing else to amuze you, Eva.
She examined me for long-long minutes. I felt myself tired. I should have gone to Leuce and spent my usual night with her, not waste it for these jades, talking about healthless things. They wouldn’t understand it anyway.
They came to outcast you, Eva’s voice sounded in my brains, hollow and worried.
Nothing new. No reason, still. I wasn’t a fairy. The more I am not now.
That’s the point. You don’t have your wings, but you don’t stop being what you are.
Do you know who I am?
Aha.
This short, exact ‘aha’ made me jump in my bed. Of all the surprises in my life, this one was the least expected. I stared at Eva, unbelieving, still not knowing how the knowledge could affect my existence.
Do you remember what I told you the last time? That I don’t know what you keep. Now I know. You keep the souls.
What?
You hold the souls of people. As long as you are around they will never strive.
Nonsense! I said, firm. Lisa dead, Leuce in coma. Do you call it keeping?
It’s all about Philip. You’ve fought so hard to overcome his nature that almost succeeded. If you didn’t fall in love with him, he wouldn’t affect the things that way. I don’t want you to feel guilty, but you also got under his deathly charms. You barely survived. You gave him the wings, but you still go on keeping.
Aha, I said.
Leuce, Anna. You still keep her alive. Let her go and you will see.
No.
Eva’s lips stretched in a triumphant smile.
You’ve always been so gentle and so kind. You comforted people, never asking to comfort yourself. Don’t wriggle out. You know by yourself who you are. You just don’t want to admit it. It’s no good, Anne.
I shook my head. Well, may be, there used to be something like that. May be, Eva was right. But she was stuck to the past, while I was drifting in ‘nowhen’. Philip took my heart. Now I had nothing but memories that did’t make sense.
And I surely wasn’t the one to hold Leuce between life and death. She did it by herself.
I won’t come any more, Anne.
I stared at Eva, uncomprehending.
I am leaving, with others. You won’t hear me ever.
Is it so nesessary? I wept, sudden fear overwhelmed me, revealing feelings I almost forgot.
I supressed shivering and stole a glance at Eva. Others didn’t matter, but she already became my friend. I was fed up with losing friends. I didn’t want to lose Eva that way.
I obey rules, she said.
Rules! I hated rules and recommendations. I despised people who followed them. Even now, when feelings seemed beyond the reach, I felt how the tide of avertion arose in me. Eva might have felt it also as she smiled bitterly and touched my face with her tender fingers.
“I am a fairy. If I don’t follow them, I will end no better than you, Ann! Each one has her own story. Once I also had to decide what I am and I made my choice. I also used to love and suffer. But I gave up loving, Ann. If I didn’t I would die, probably. I paid for the stability I have now. We all have to pay from time to time, Ann! Even I had to pay! I still feel sorry about it, but I can’t do nothing, but keep myself whole, that the sacrifice I did wouldn’t be vain. I have to go on the same way. I ought to, Anne!”
The one who loves truly never gives up.
She straightened up and sized me with a cold glance. Nothing friendly was in it.
Love, Ann, can be incompatible with life.
Eva vanished in the air, the last after eleven fairies. They never said a word. They simply didn’t have a word to appreciate.
A silver haze hung above the floor and then – disappeared.
 
Chapter 10
Malice, mother of evil


In spite of that my usual shedule was spoilt with unexpected visit, I didn’t want to give up the everynight routine. I had a whole night forward to spend it with Leuce. May be, in a sense, she was waiting for me. May be, I was - at first - who needed to see her. I didn’t know. I got used to nights near her and whether I kept her or not, I felt peace in her ward.
It was no hard to steal by my guardians. They noticed nothing but the cards in their hands. I repeated my usual procedure accurate within details and got to Leuce’s storey without any difficulties.
It was sharp midnight. The hall was silent. Three gigantic lamps illuminated it, droning hardly heard. I huddled up – it was not cold, but unpleasant. This floor was occupied by comatosers. For most of them death was close and the smell of Her, aproaching, filled the wards with inconvenience.
Expecation reigned here – every minute could be the beginning if the death let someone go. And it, of course, could be the end if it squeezed in her embraces and smothered finally.
There was no one alive in this floor, except me. Doctors and nurses considered sleeping here to be foreboding. “You can fall asleep here” they said “but wake up somewhere else... and bless the god if it will be this world!” For me, it was just another stupid prejudice. Comatosers were offenseless. Leuce wasn’t any difference. She must have either woken up, or died. There was no third variant. I hoped she’d prefer the first one. She was the only who knew the murderer. She saw him and she could call his name.
Poor Leuce! I watched the darkness densing around her and it seemed threatening. I didn’t want to leave her alone. Under my supervision the shadows didn’t dare to attack her, but when I go...
Thanks to doctors, it won’t be too soon.
I grasped her hand in mine and smiled to her. Wherever she was she needed us so much. Human warmth, kind words and loving care that we brought to her were able to defeat death. We surrounded her with tenderness and friendship and she became stronger. We gave her the weapon. But it was all we could give her.
Leuce had to fight on herself.
It seemed she didn’t want – with all her advantages and strength she refused to fight, I felt it. From her side I could see it too. Returning back to life when it managed to hurt you like that was ridiculous at least. That’s why I wasn’t too much offended that doctors kept me imprisoned.
I didn’t want to see my friends because I had nothing to tell them.
Huh, in fact, there was plenty but they were unlikely to admire my words. I didn’t know how I was to say I gave away my wings to the guy they considered murderer. There weren’t such words to put it right. Even if I swore he hadn’t done it they would never believe. I wouldn’t believe myself either, for I loved him. I could be blind.
Moreover he’s a demon. Only god knows what he makes with this priceless gift.
Oh, girl, don’t you mourn over it? Don’t you want everything to be undone and watch him die on your hands? Are you mad?
Wings cost nothing, I understood perfectly. Now when I didn’t have them, almost nothing disturbed my stable existence. Nothing tore me between ground and skies. Nothing claimed its rights on me. May be it was freedom I had never had but dreamt so much.
But with the wings I gave away my loving heart and without it – life became too likely with death. I wasn’t any better than Leuce, save the fact I was still conscious. Huh.
I found one more letter under the mattress. It looked like if the composer was in a hurry – the lines usually so firm and accurate danced a strange dance across the lines. The handwriting wasn’t any of Kathe’s. I suspected Alex or Daniel: only those who spent all the time pressing buttons could unlearn to write.
There must have been written something interesting and – vitally important. No small thing could make our guys tear away from the phones.
I turned the paper in my hands, examined it carefully but couldn’t read out the lines. There was something like “Blllll bllla! Bughmh ahkjbg yuijnv ghjj!” Very cognitive note, I could say.
I crumpled the sheet and threw it in the litter bin. I missed.
Tonight Leuce was even paler than ever. Her skin obtained a strange tint of grey-green so that even tired bruises under her closed eyes didn’t come forth. She was like a body that had lay in the grave for a month but didn’t rot. The simile was quite disgusting, but exact.
I touched her cold hand. Nothing helped to maintain a proper temperature in her body. If not the apparatus I wouldn’t ever believe she was alive. But the device didn’t have a habit to decieve neither itself, nor me. She was alive.
Her eyelashes seemed to flicker, faintly. I focused my glance on them, trying to catch the slightest movement.
“Ann!” shivering voice sounded from the window. “Ann! Open!”
I flinched and Leuce’s hand fell from mine. I pressed my head in my shoulders and, just in case, looked around for the shelter. Someone scratched in the window-glass, asking to let him in. Carefully, trying not give myself away I stole to the window. A tall, white-haired shadow coiled outside, keeping balance on the thin rope.
I climbed to the window-sill and with an enormous effort unlocked the latch. Alex that hung outside pushed it with his left hand, risking to fall down. I caught him and pulled in the ward. We both fell on the floor, fluttering: my leg tangled in the rope. Alex crawled from under me and helped me with it. I crawled away to have a breath, while he reeled off the rope.
“You look splendid, Anne! Real zombie!”
Huh. If he came to say it, he shouldn’t have bothered. I know it perfectly on my own.
I could snarl and make faces, but I had never in my life been so glad to see anyone. Like a sunbeam he ran through my darkness and touched my cold soul. His presence warmed me – someone from ‘past’ came to hold me. I had a chance to get out of ‘nowhen’, to awake.
The joy in my smile wasn’t phony. I didn’t need to strain it out, not even to remember how it used to work. I was really glad to see him – a little bit disoriented, tousled with a silly rope in his hands, my old Alex. My friend. He came to rescue me.
May be, the things weren’t so bad – I was curable. Doctos were mistaken when prohibited to meet with my friends. If they didn’t I might have been healthy times ago.
“You look like a mummy, Ann!” he announced and the – watching me frown awkwardly – added “That never means I don’t like mummies! They are –“
He failed to find a proper word. I smiled. My old Alex.
“Okay, there’s no much ime. The night is so moony that someone can catch us! Hurry up!”
I didn’t move.
“Ann? Aren’t you ready?” he got angry.
My confused face was enough to explain him I didn’t get prepared. The last thing I’d expected was Alex, broken into Leuce’s window.
“I came to rescue you! I’ll wind the rope around you and get out through the window!”
I continued to watch him.
“I have written you a note. Haven’t you read it? I told you to wait for me at night and get your things packed, if you have any!”
I began to chuckle. Huh, that’s what the secret paper was about. I couldn’t help laughing, also it sounded weird as if I rehearsed for a Snow Queen role. Alex choked and stared at me, while I grasped my stomache and prayed that the bandages wouldn’t fall down. His bewildered look was even more funny and another burst of laughter escaped from my lips. It wasn’t much of pleasure – my whole body began to bleed with twice energy.
Alex lay off his sack and went through it. He took out a snickers that I captured immediately, a big plastic bag and a notebook with a pencil. He shoved it to me and commanded to write. I grabbed the pencil in my fist, unable to move my fingers and, industriously scratched. Alex examined the writing and sighed.
That’s it. No better than his own scribbles.
“Let’s try again!” he didn’t give in.
Puffing with dilligence I draw the words. They hardly went into the sheet, more like a child’s first letters.
Ur handwr-g oful.
“Is it?” he scratched his head, not insulted at all.
Aha, I nodded.
“Okay, now that’s no point. Let’s get out of here!”
Alex began to entwine the rope around my waist. I pushed him aside and disentangled myself.
“What are you doing? We have to hurry!”
I waved my hands and pointed at Leuce. He didn’t udnerstand. I pointed at the rope and at him and showed he had to go without me.
“What’s up?” he frowned.
You, I gestured. Go, my hands moved awkwardly. Without, crossed my hands. Me, pressed my hands to my chest. Stared at him.
“Why?”
I pointed at Leuce.
“You want to return to bed? Do you feel bad?”
I psyched and twitched my hand to the window. Alex frowned, misunderstanding. I broke out into abuse, trying to articulate clearly what I thought about his thinking abilities. My parched lips moved so furiously that even he got the main idea.
“All right, all right! What should I tell others?”
Tell ‘em I st wit Leu. Cant go. Hurt.
“You don’t look hurt at all!” he protested.
I sighed. I couldn’t tell him how hard pain was to endure because there not existed words for it. It was an essential part of my body, inseparate like the skin. I couldn’t get rid of it becuase it meant death, final and irreversible. I wasn’t that ready to give up life, however useless it seemed to me.
“What happened, Anne? Did Philip get you too?”
Alex’s face crooked in a sudden fury. I lay my hand on his shoulder and shook my head. I didn’t want him to know the truth. It could hurt him much more than sympathy to me or to Leuce. It already hurt me that I couldn’t share it with anyone who believed. A truth for one person becomes a heavy burden, a curse. I bore it on my own, unable to say it loud.
Even if I said, there was unlikely someone to believe me.
“We are all confused. What has he done to you? How has he escaped? How have you escaped him?”
Too many question without answers. I shook my head.
“Why haven’t you flee from him, Anne? Why haven’t you used your wings?”
I rose on my feet and pointed on the window. Drop dead, my glance ordered. Drop dead and don’t come back. He shivered, so ominous I might have looked. Alex wanted to say something else, but I stopped him. No more questions. I’ve gone too far to involve him in this. He won’t believe. Leuce’s injured body on the bed talked better than words.
  Alex sighed sadly but obeyed. I opened the window for him and watched him climb down. He jumped into the snowdrift, too visible on the white, and ran across the bright moonlit yard to the bush opposite the building. I bit my lip, hoping no one would notice him. Otherwise...
I’d better not misfortune him.
I waited for several minutes just in case somebody alarms the hospital. Everything was silent. I cast a nonchalant glance on the moon and closed the window. Surprises were over for today. I sat in the armchair near Leuce’s bed and lay my face on her pillow.
Lisa was wrong, I suddenly thought. She gave me the black mark but I evaded death. The mark passed to Leuce but she wasn’t dead, too. We both were still around with probably equal chances for survival. If Lisa was striving to have the third girl, she would have to wait until we decided who of us didn’t merit the life.
As for me, I knew I was the one. Lisa could come and have me, if she wanted. But she didn’t hurry. Well, that meant I had time.
“Anne! Damn girl! Open the window!”
This voice I could mix with no one else’s. Anger and displeasure filled the intonations with snaky hissing, poisonous like curare. I rushed to open the window, until she awoke the hospital. She fell in but I nicked to move aside. She hit her chin into the bed leg and saluted me with another long colourful tyrade. I closed the window so that no one would hear her scold. Kathe couldn’t hold her tongue silent. In case I put my head out in the hall.
There were no signs of alarm.
I turned to Kathe and waited.
“Don’t watch me so, Anne! It’s you who doesn’t want to flee, not me!”
I shrugged – no way, no way. Kathe paid me no attention, her look focused on Leuce’s face. She walked closer to the bed and bent over the girl. She took her hand, listened for the pulse for long minutes. Her face became grey.
“She’s worse today!” Kathe diagnosed. I nodded.
Kathe squeezed weak pale fingers and her hand, as if trying to pass energy to the motionless body. I kissed Leuce’s forehead and noticed a familiar quiver of eye-lashes. I blinked and stared intently on her eyes.
They remained steady.
“Ann, why are you so bandaged?” Kathe suddenly asked.
I sank in the armchair, too tired of standing. Kathe hunkered near me and took my hand. I winced and snatched it away. She comforted me with a gentle smile and, not paying any attention to my grimacing, she began to take off the bandages. After the upper clean leayers there followed pink, then red, then soaked with blood so that I could wring it out. Kathe watched it with horror – her hands trembled with every next layer. Her tender fingers stained with blood, that dried up and crusted immediately. Kathe bit her lip and went on unwrapping.
Sweat flowed down her forehead, as she might have been pretended what she was going to face. When there were two layers left, she pushed my hand away.
“Sorry, Ann! I’m so sorry! If I just knew how it would be! Oh, why were we so stupid? Why didn’t we let them close the university? Why? I’ve been so idiot, so stubborn. When I saw you in the crypt, you were so torn but so encredibly alive that I didn’t get at first how hurt you were. Alive, it was enough! But now I see! Sorry, Ann, I can’t! Can’t!”
She was about to burst out crying. There was only thing that could prevent her from it. I took the end of the bandage and slowly unwrapped the rest of it. Kathe stared at my hand, mesmerized.
At first sight it resembled a bleeding flesh, without skin. Blood covered my whole hand, flowed down on the floor. So evident, so pure, so hot, it was a syrup of life and it oozed through my skin and escaped vessels. On the air it began to clot. Although it caused pains, I took the clean end of bandage and wiped the blood away.
Kathe’s eyes almost fell from the orbits. Such a face, so much horror and amusement at a time. Her shy fingers touched my bleeding skin and jerked back. I locked her mouth with my bandaged hand and pressed her head to my chest. She gasped and choked brokenly as I caressed her hair, calming down.
When I felt she was alright to manage by herself I let her go and began to wrap the bandages back. It was hard, my another hand didn’t work properly. The bandage fell from my fist and I couldn’t grope for it.
“Don’t mind, I’ll help you!”
She was supressing her terror as hard as she could. Her fingers almost ceased trembling and only red spots on her skin gave away her feelings. Accurate like a surgeon, she turned the bandage around my hand, fixing it tight. Than she created a coquettish bow on my wrist.
“What is it?” she asked, touching the bronze rim.
The question was rather rhetorical. We both knew it. I didn’t part with Philip’s bangle after his flight. Nobody could make me get it off. I got it for my heart. A fair bargain. I will wear it until the end.
Kathe’s smile faded on her lips as she thought over something. Thoughts creased her forehead more and more as she got further and further from me. I touched her and she winced, returning to life. With a hard effort she concentrated on me and squeezed through her gritted teeth:
“Why do you bleed, Anne?”
I was about to wriggle out like I did with Alex, when she clenched my shoulders and digged her nails deep into my body. I hissed and pushed her away.
“Tell me the truth, Anne! Why do you bleed now this way?”
I shook my head vigorously.
“Where did you lose them?” Kathe asked.
She didn’t wait for the answer. Instead, she closed her eyes and meditated. She bit her lower lip so that a tiny trickle slipped into her mouth. She licked it and slowly, like from a long deep sleep, opened her eyes. The fear I saw before was nothing with what I read in them. Pure, clear terror.
She watched me, unbelieving.
I pushed her away and stood up. My legs refused to obey me. I looked the room around – it lay near the bed. I took the pencil and the notebook that Alex forgot and wrote carefully. The words came out cleat and firm, three of them. These words were my only excuse, my prayer.
I love him.
Kathe pounced to me and shook.
“Ann! Don’t tell me you helped him to escape! Don’t!”
Ha-ha-ha. Very funny. How she pretended me to tell her? Kathe burst out with hysterical laughter. I preferred to stay far until the hysteria ended. She wiped away the tears and looked at me.
Thanks to the stone that hit into the window I didn’t have to answer. Kathe jumped on her place. I rushed to the window. The rope trembled as if someone pulled it. From below I heard a loud hiss. Alex called for Kathe. She leaned from the window so far that almost fell. I pulled her back by her trousers.
“What’s happened?” Kathe whispered.
“There’s a beat, approaching! Get out of there! They can notice the rope, Kathe!”
She hesitated – so many unfigured questions. I pushed her forward and helped to entwine the rope around her waist. Alex kept on calling for us, asking to hurry – he needed time to get the rope before the sentries caught them red-handed. Kathe fussed and didn’t contribute to fast escape. Alex enraged, cursing ‘idiot retard’. Kathe scolded, why he didn’t come earlier. I got so bewildered that was ready to push her out from the window.
Finally she got out. When I was about to close the window, she stopped me.
“Shoot, Anne, there’s a thinga for you. In the sack!”
Hanging meters above the ground she turned back to me and ordered to open the sack. I took out the plastic bag and pressed to my chest. A gift. Cute! Kathe made a sign to Alex. He got prepared to catch her as she approached the ground. She missed his hug, fell in the snowdrift. There came a short but capacious ‘bozo-guy’. She shook off the snow and began to reel off the rope.
Kathe hampered Alex, feigning activity. He hissed on her and commanded to get out. She would barely listen to him if not the voices that approached their place. Kathe vanished behind the corner. Without her Alex managed with the rope in a moment. It flashed by my window falling down. I closed the window and leant on the window-sill, exhausted almost to death.
Damn conspirators!
I unpacked the bag and took out a sketch book. Philip’s sketch book. An automatical smile stretched my lips. I touched the smooth surface of the cover and felt how memories revealed in me. Philip never parted with it. It was an essential chapter of his lifebook. Like the bangle that jingled on my wrist now. Like the splinter of the mirror that now was an exhibit.
I turned the cover and stared at the first page.
What else could there be? Sketches. Sketches of statues in ‘Ploshad Revolutzii’ station. A rough draft of a man with a huge rottweiler. Blurred silhouttes of three long-legged blondes in short skirts.
He was a perfect artist. With a photographic accuracy he reproduced the movements, the exressions, the moods – even the secret thoughts and hopes. People on his setches were even more recognizable than on photoes.
On the second page the characters were more familiar. Laughing Dean of Pharmacy faculty. The librarian, always displeased with the students. The security-guys checking the students cards. The girl from the canteen – ‘queen of apple-pies’ – with enormous roller-pin in her small hands.
I moved over the next page. Dear faces watched me from the paper, so vivid and full of life. I closed my eyes and pressed the sketchbook to my chest, letting the tears fall down my eyes.
They were so real, so vivid, so full of life. Leuce, propping up her chin with a fist – expression of universal boredom on her beautiful face. Alex and Daniel sat parallel, leaning on the wall unseparable with their cell-phones – identical indifference in postures. Himself, caricatured like a serpent. Me...
I knew when he had painted this picture – after our first talk when he rescued me from falling. I had already blacklisted him and his number in the list was indicated on my forehead. Fuf... he read my thoughts.
I turned the page, guessing who I would see next. But, covered with dozens of small sketches, the sheet contained only my face. Smiling, frowned, dreamy, sleepy, bored and joyful, happy and sorrowful... it all was me, Ann. Baby Ann, Hannah... and not me at the same time... He reproduced my lineaments accurately, he photographed my moods but the images still lacked something... something very essential of me.
This girl could be me if not some striking difference. But what the problem was I couldn’t relize. I leafed over the book to the end – there was nothing else but me.
One of the pages was torn out and I could only guess that on this page there was also me.
In different postures, in different places, but always me...
I was sleeping in his bed, my hair spread over the pillow. I chewed the sandwich with wurst and smiled happily. I talked to Daniel and my face was enraged. I laughed with Kathe: my mouth open in indesrcibable grimace of cheer. I thought over something and my eyes overcast with dreamy dim.
I was dressed and naked. His fantasy, of course, embroidered the reality. I had never been so seducing, I had never smiled so carnivorously, but it was – anyway – somewhat of me, too. The images in the end of his sketchbook were absolutely erotic, drawn with impatient hand – the strokes were sharp and hasty. He hurried to imprint her on the paper – that phony Ann, a momentary vision that would vanish in a second.
That was a girl from his dreams... Not me.
Not me...
 “He showed them to me!” soft voice said. “He asked what wrong was with the pictures!”
I turned slowly. Leuce lay on her elbows, paly and smiling. Her awake was so sudden that I didn’t know how to react. There must have been joy, cheer, relief. Must have... but wasn’t any. I gritted my teath not to cry. It was beyond my power. Bitter tears gushed out and I turned away.
“You have always been too shrewd, Ann!” she said. “I can’t stay... they want me to go with them! They suggest me more than I can have in this life!”
I rushed to her. How could she speak like this? There was one more chance to fight. There was a chance to survive. Why did she surrender before the fight? It was ridiculuos. Lisa didn’t rule the world. She couldn’t command Leuce to die or to live. I pressed her weak fingers in my palm and shook my head. “No! Everything will be alright! Hold on” I wanted to say.
The smile vanished from her lips. I started to go, call the doctor but she didn’t let me.
“My time is over. Don’t call anyone. You are the one for whom I returned! I still have...” her voice broke squealing “I have my last say! Ann!”
My common sense called me to go and have a try. I could make the choice for Leuce if she didn’t want on her own. But something more weird made me stay. It might have been the light – the fading light in her eyes – that made me stay.
She took the sketch book from my underarm and turned the first page. Her eyes grew dim, remembering. I couldn’t distract her now, when she seemed so content as she turned the pages. She scrutinized all her friends in turns and a smile, so beautiful and joyful, fluttered on her lips. I got under the charm of the picture and couldn’t move my legs.
She lingered on one face longer than others. Her finger traced his lienemants. So much love was in her gestures that I turned, unable to stand it.
“He was all I wanted. Every dream I ever had incarnated in his face, in his sinister beauty. Do you think I didn’t know what I pled for? I saw the blackness that covered his soul, the guilt he bore. But I wanted him so much... like nobody before him... I saw that he craved for deliverance and believed that I could give it to him. Do you remember what I was, Ann? Too much joy, eagerness, vigour and passion. I was greedy for life and nothing could stop me from searching for pleasure. Then he came... and I was ready to renounce everything just to have him around. He was a dream come true. I forgot that for happiness you had to pay. I forgot to find out the price...
“Look at me now, Ann! Do you think I’ve paid too much?
“I haven’t. Everything I gave wasn’t enough. He didn’t love me. And he didn’t want me. He liked me, he had a soft spot for me, but nothing more”.
She searched for comfort in my eyes. The only thing I could say was that the same damn words I told Kathe, month ago... How could I encourage her? Philip never loved anyone. Such a beautiful creature, he knew perfectly how he affected girls. He didn’t even need to strain – girls fell for him without any effort from him.
Leuce wasn’t guilty. She was a victim. Like me. Like Lisa...
She wiped off the tear from my cheek.
“I have never been so weak like that last day. I came to you tearful and you soothed me. You were so kind and I hated you, Ann. If you just knew how much I hated you that time. For your face was the only thing he drew in his sketchbook. You were the one he wanted. Not me. I remember it so well that can quote: “I like you, Leuce. I would like you to be my girlfriend!” and when I was about to hang on his neck he added: “I don’t want to decieve you: it’s because the only girl I want in this life is impossible for me to have. I can’t get her, Leuce, but there is tenderness I can give to you!” He said it to me, Ann! He stored his love for someone else and I knew it was you. You, damn me, Ann! He showed the sketches to me and asked what was wrong with them. What was wrong? Ann... you saw them, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“What do you think?”
I sighed and shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it. Leuce’s confession was rather hurtful – I couldn’t watch her say these cruel words with such a confident face. Philip couldn’t prefer me to Leuce, never. He never loved me – the flashes of passion that flitted between us couldn’t light the fire, not to mention love.
“I thought the whole day what was wrong with them... Now I know. How could he be so blind? How could he?”
She seemed to address someone on the ceiling. Probably, there was someone waiting for her. Please, I asked, not now... she still had time. She needed to speak out... Leave her this last favour.
I realized. Speak out... Leuce was the only one to know, to answer... who was the murderer. She could say... now, when it’s not too late. I squeezed her hand and rolled up my eyes, to attract her attention. She turned to me and focused.
I cursed my numbness.
I displayed how the stab thrust in someone’s flash and articulated: “Who?” She didn’t get. I took an imaginary knife and drove into my chest. Then I choked for the imaginary blood escaped from imaginary wound and fell on her bed with popped eyes.
She liked the performance and laughed. I shook her shoulders and, trying to look serious, demanded again: “Who?”
Leuce choked and went off breathing. Her body burst out trembling awfully like if she was going to explode. I wanted to press her to my chest but she pushed me away. Astrained hoarse escaped from her mouth, impossible to decode.
I stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Andrew!” she hoarsed.
I misheard. She suddenly snatched my hand. Her weak fingers stuck into my skin almost to bones.
“Andrew!” she repeated, her eyes popped at something behind me.
I turned back immediately.
“Hello, Anny, dear!” he said.

They were beautiful – yellow roses in his hands. I let him in and closed the door. He went to the kitchen without taking off his shoes. They left dirty prints on just washed parquet. I will have to wash it again, I sighed. The spring this year was too sleety, I was glad we didn’t yield to temptation and didn’t bring a puppy. Although Julia promised me her eternal gratitude...
Andrew occupied the chair and sniffed the air.
“Smells perfect. What are you cooking?”
“Andrew” I leaned on the galley-dresser and glared at him. “What have you come for? To praise my cooking talents?”
He handled the bunch to me and smiled guiltily. I wanted to push the flowers in the litter-bin but it was full already and I – whatever I felt to Andrew – liked yellow roses too much. To their luck there was an empty vase and I put them in it.
“I am really sorry!” he said.
He is sorry? Is he sorry? Sorry he is? Fuf... I winced from disgust and pointed at the bruise on my cheekbone. It still hurt although two days have passed from our last – flagrant – date.
“Sorry? Is that what you came to say? That you are sorry? You can tell it to my poor bones – that you are sorry. What have you done? Do you really think I care that you are sorry? Do you like the view? And so? And from the left? Do you think it suits me?”
I mixed the appetizing slop in the pen and turned to him, because he kept silence.
“I think everything is over between us... I don’t like to decieve my friends. I am not bow-legged broody chicken that stumbls on a smooth spot and hits the ground with her face. Why should I shield you? You are socially dangerous, Andrew! I don’t want to see you here anymore. You can take the roses with a vase. I wanted to get rid of it anyway!”
I have never mistaken in people the way I was wrong with Andrew. An intelligent guy, blonde, tall and strong with stainless reputation and good manners turned out a real fiend. I didn’t know who gave away my secret but all he wanted from me – although we dated for half a year – were my wings.
He thought that I would fall in love and transmit my gift to him. May be, he would succeed in his intention if waited for a little bit more. Day after day I got bogged down in him: the sympathy turned into affection, affection turned into love. My cold blood boiled with his touches, I soared higher with his kisses. The happiness had never been so striking evident for me. I believed him, every single word seemed a universal truth. I got so blind. I totally dissolved in him, got forged with him, unable to breathe without him near.
I was ready to give him whatever he asked. To kill anyone, if he asked. Even myself – just one more night, one more kiss and I would probably do. Wings cost nothing compared to his love. He needed to wait for one short night.
But two days ago he demanded too much of me. Wings... he set the ultimatum – whether I give him the gift or we break up. I didn’t get the question – of course, I preferred to have my wings.
He didn’t restrain the anger. His fist imprinted on my cheekbone and he would add me more if not two passersby. They guided me home and adviced not to get mixed up with such persons as Andrew.
It was needless. I had no more illusions. The only thing I could do was to send him an sms “I don’t want to see you. We broke up!” He bothered me with calls and messages, asked my friends to influence me and even got round Julia.
I didn’t want to spoil his relations with others and didn’t inform them about his violence. I lied of course, told them some bosh about having fallen...
Now he sat on my kitchen and feigned such a remorse than someone less experienced in his fists could believe. I looked in his eyes and saw nothing but foretaste. Aha, found a little idiot!
“What do you want else?” I asked.
He didn’t move on his place.
“Ann, the bruise is just a piece of misunderstanding! Please, forgive me!”
“It’s a piece of shit, Andrew! Scram out, please!”
His face suddenly filled with redness. He slowly rose from the chair and impended over me. I pressed my head in shoulders, the feeling of danger made my knees shiver. I tried not to show him how scared I was. My face remained mocky and scornful.
“Ann, dear, what about the nights we spent together? The kisses?” his lips found mine.
It was awful of me. With my mind I understood that there wasn’t any love from him, but I wanted to believe so much. He enticed me and I got into his lure like into a trap. He embraced my shoulders and his lips moved downward – to my chin, then to my neck. While my body was feverishly desiring for the progress, my mind searched for possible ways of retreatment.
I slipped from his hug and, trying to occupy my tremblings hands with anything, grabbed the vase with roses from the table and observed the kitchen guessing where to place it. The roses spread the strange odour over the kitchen, yellow flowers still humid with the vraindrops.
I stared at them, perplexed. I thought I’d mistaken. I might have missed one, I surely, might have missed one – for no one in his sane mind would present sixteen roses. Funeral number, healthless, weird.
I had missed, of course.
 “It’s vain, Andrew. Your kisses don’t matter anymore!”
I should have known what fury my words would cause. I should have noticed the first sparkle of madness in his eyes. But I was totally absorbed in my own feelings, trying to ease the trembling and heartbeat. He grasped my elbow and squeezed it so strong that I shrieked. The vase with roses fell and shattered.
The splinters, sharp and thin, plunged into my bare feet. Painful tears splashed from my eyes. I coiled in his hands and pled to let me go. He wasn’t Andrew I knew, but a monster enjoying the crucifixion of his victim.
Or I didn’t simply knew before what Andrew was.
“Ann, I can stop the pain... if you ask me better. Will you ask me?” he smiled.
I twisted and kicked him in his knee-pan. He roared and hit me in my bruised temple. Pain spread over my head and the dim overcast my vision. I hung on his hands like a rag-doll, lifeless.
Andrew seated me on the floor and reclined on the wall. I couldn’t move - my limbs seemed withered and dead. What happened after it I observed with strange spaced out indifference like if he played his evil trick with that doll, not with me.
He picked up the splinter.
“Don’t you want to give the wings to me?” he asked.
I followed him motionless.
“You have your last chance to say the right answer!” he said. “Will you give?”
I shook my head vigorously although it caused too much pain.
He didn’t ask anything more. The splinter tore my skin and thrust into flesh. I watched the blood pour from my veins and flow down on my legs. It was hot and viscile. It smelled blood. Lacerated stripes appeared on my wrists – one, another...
The streamlets of blood gathered in brooks and formed a bloody puddle on the floor. The blood crawled under the roses – yellow, bright colour of madness and farewell – whatever you liked it.
With every second my vision grew more obscure. The pink mist over my eyes became red and then crimson. My breath slowed down and broke.
Andrew was satisfied. He rose on his feet, shook off the trousers, checked if there weren’t any bloody spots left and told me, watching right into my eyes:
“I am leaving! I’ve never loved you!” and went away.
I didn’t care. There was only me – drifting in endless sea of blood with yellow islands of roses in it. The combination was rather eerie – red and yellow on the azure tile of the kitchen. I grinned stupidly and closed my eyes.
Cursed roses. There were for all of that sixteen of them...

“Hello, Anny, dear!” he said.
Leuce shrieked. Andrew threw away the ritual bunch of roses and hit her with fist. She fell from the bed and lay down-face, motionless. I jumped up and rushed to the door. It was closed. I jerked the handle – it didn’t move. Just behind my back, burning me with his breathing Andrew jingled with keys. I tossed to the window. He caught me running and turned face to face.
“It’s a real pity, you’ve remembered. May be I could leave you alive... but now you have to follow your amiga!”
I digged my teeth in his wrist and he dropped me on the floor. I choked with pain and tried to crawl away. It was impossible – my bandaged hands trembled so strong that I coiled on the floor.
Someting hot stuck between my shoulders. I chattered and fell flat on the floor. The heat in my back exploded with myriades of poisonous splinters. They rotated in my body and stunged, like wasps. I fluttered on the floor, trying to utter a shriek. My lungs burnt with numbness. I couldn’t cry out pain, not to mention calling for help.
Sudden coldness spread over my spine insead of heat so that I couldn’t move it. My hands fell weak ner my face.
Andrew laughed. His laughter echoed like drums in my ears. I shivered and gasped, unable to do anything, to fight. The knife thrust one more time – my arm muscle got torn. My hand, almost separate from the body, twitched in last spasm.
 “Do you like the entertaiment, Anny? I like. It’s... new!”
The knife plunged into my leg, tearing the bandages. He drove it further and further as if trying to cut me in two pieces. My hands suddenly regained stregth back, I tossed on the floor and turned face to Andrew. He kicked my stomach – Alex’s ‘snickers’ rushed to my throat. I scratched Andrew’s hateful face. He didn’t seem to notice any pain. The smell of blood turned him into a complete monster.
He pulled out the knife and drove it again. My injured leg grew numb. A puddle of blood under me was already a vast lake, it fed on my life. As it flowed away from me, I became more and more indifferent to pain.
Oh how much I wished I wasn’t mute. The pain tore my chords – if I cried out the agony would cease a little. But the only sound was wheeze, seething with blood. I clenched my teeth, they crumbled to dust from my strain.
I couldn’t breathe anymore. I didn’t want – every breath prolonged the agony.
The knife explored my boddy, finding out intact places and damaging them. Andrew cut me in slices, tore off my skin alive and laughed, laughed as I died. Why was I dying so slowly? Why wasn’t death one-stab fast? Why did it linger?
Andrew liked the ‘entertainment’. He didn’t get satisfied – with every new stab he grew more and more captivated. Blood was his energy. The smell, the taste of it on his smiling lips, the drops of red flowing down his sweaty forehead – they excited him like no femme could. He – too –trembled, but it was the shiver of new-born, brisk creature filling with live energy.
If he began to drink my blood from my wounds, I wouldn’t be any surprised.
I only prayed that he would do it fast, the last stab. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I was weak, oh how weak I was! I wasn’t Leuce, I couldn’t bear it!
He drove the knife into my chest when I left it unprotected and – for more joy – rotated the blade in it. I wheezed. The blood escaped from the wound in my chest by mighty pushes. The air broke loose from my lungs with a loud hiss, as if I was a ballon blown off. The heat in my stomach – on the contrary – increased. There was a real desert in it, but ashes were instead of sand.
Everyting was repeating. Circles, spirals... life brought me back on the same left hand path with no return... If I counted the roses this time, there surely would be sixteen of them. Andrew had a sense about sixteens.
“How do you feel it, Anny? Cool, huh?” he drove the knife in my body again and again.
I writhed in the corner, trying to plug up all wounds at once. Andrew carved his signs on my skin, with a diligence of a proficient artist. He worked hard on me, making something what only he knew he would get.
“I’ll leave you your beautiful face, Anne! I liked it!” he kissed my blooded lips, licked the blood away.
And laughed, laughed, laughed.
The cut bandages hung shreds on my hands, stripping my bleeding palms, my weak fingers. I stopped the wound in my chest with them and watched – indifferently – how the blood oozed through them.
Why am I still here? Why don’t I leave?
“Just look at yourself. Angel, my dying angel, sorry, girl. I will mourn over you like no one mourned before... I’ll bring millions of roses on your grave and they will, of course, be yellow. The color you loved most of all. And then when they find your dearest Philip, I will be the first to have revenge. For I love you so much, my dear, my sweetheart, my Anny!”
He leaned over me. This stab will be the last one, the summit of his maniac career, I understood. I crossed my hands on the chest, protecting my heart for it was his final aim... My loving heart, the thing he had never had. I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes.
“Slumber peacefully, my dear Anny!” he said.
The knife came into my chest gently. My heart twanged and froze.
Done...
The moment ceased. I watched the viscile red life escape my body – the last drops of it. One, two...
Life...
Of all the honours, all the cheers in this world life was the most expensive. It was what people prayed for, demanded for, searched for and I – idiot girl – dared to reject. I thought I was higher this common desire, this desire of life. I was wrong. I was no better than others. I needed it even more than anyone for there was too much death around me.
Now I had my debts paid. The exit door was open and the gleamy shadow waited for me behind it. I had to go, for nothing could make me stay. There was nothing in this eternity that could revive the dead. Nothing that could make the stopped heart beat again. There was nothing to heal sixteen wounds in my body.
Life is a gift itself. She doesn’t give more miracles.
My eyes closed and the dearest visions of my childhood appeared in my mind. My parents, too much love in their eyes. Juls that broke her favourite toy and demanded mine to spoil too. My schoolmates – so familiar and dear. My student fellows, cheeful and mournful, lucky and unhappy – especially seven of them. Those whom I loved, those who loved me.
It all was worth another try. If just someone gave me a chance...
There was one more face, sweet to shivering – he watched me so tender and stretched his hands for me. His raven hair fluttered in the wind. His eyes – my absinth drink of passion – shed one tear after another. These silent tears were for me and over me. I wasn’t worth these tears. I didn’t deserve your sorrow, Philip.
The only thing that made my life not vain – was this feeling to you. I loved you, I confessed finally, I loved you. It’s a pity you’ll never hear it...
Goodbye, I should have said.
I opened my eyes and compressed the knife in my hand. Andrew sat in the corner near Leuce and turned over the pages of Philip’s sketchbook. His face was deadly pale – one more bout of insanity approached. No word could express how much I wished him death. Hatred? What is it in the end? Nothing but ashes... it dies when life goes away. What I felt was more powerful than hatred.
I will trace him after death... for eternity. I will be his curse, his endless torture in millions of worlds and lives. I will follow him everywhere to torment, to watch him agonize. I will never be satisfied.
He took my friends, my Lisa, my Leuce. He took my wings. He took my Philip. He took everything I lived for and now he came to take the life itself.
You can get it, Andrew, but you will pay.
With a faint sound the knife went out of my chest. It fell on the floor and I couldn’t pick it up. My bandaged torn fingers scratched the floor in vain. I turned to Andrew – his bloody fingers left stains on the sheets, on my faces, drawn by careful hand. Not for him. For me.
I rose on my feet, firm and solid, like a ghost in a movie. He didn’t hear me – lifeless creature that couldn’t harm him.
I will trace you eternally, Andrew. Until you burn in Hell. And even in Hell I’ll trace you, for my wounds will always bleed and my heart will always crave for revenge. Not only for myself, but for the ones I loved. For the ones you slayed.
I will never leave you in peace. I curse you, for you’ll get millions of times more pain than you’ve done to me.
I curse you that never in your life you’ll clean your hands from my blood. You will never be able to sleep. To eat. I will always be with you, for you, around you. I will sacrifice my time with those whom I loved just to get you revenged. And when you kill yourself unable to suffer, I’ll trace you in death. I’ll never let you alone.
I will be with you. I’ll comfort you the same you comforted me. I will love you the same you loved me, Andrew.
My bloody hands closed down around his neck, my nails digged in his hot flesh. There was nothing to make me unclench the grasp. He twisted and hissed, I compressed stronger. He kicked me, I digged my nails deeper. He roared, but I kept silence and stared in his eyes.
This pain is just a beginning, Andrew. It’s flowers, for berries you will have an eternity.
He protested but I didn’t feel. All my essence was concentrated in the tip of my fingers that tore his skin, stuck into his flesh and reached the throat. I sensed the air bubble in it and explode.
Andrew drove my head into the heating panel. Bloody vail covered my vision. His hands flickered in the air and found my neck. I hoarsed when he wound them around but griped his neck even stronger.
Eye for eye.
His hands squeezed my neck, too. The darkness overcast my eyes. The boom in my head indicated I lacked for air, I suffocated.
I didn’t care.
Only me and you, Andrew...
Do you like the entertainment this time? If I just could kill you. If I just could smother you the way you smothered Lisa. I would be revenged. I would be surely. I’d pay my life for it, readily. For the death in your eyes, Andrew.
My bones crunched – my fingers moaned. The world went black totally, but I couldn’t unclench my grasp. Never. Incredible stregth flowed through my fingers into his body, to squash his neck, to tore apart his throat, to make him bleed to death. I did see nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. Pain was an old story, I got used to it and didn’t feel anymore. I lived it through. I felt my soul depart from the body. I was about to go, when the soft voice broke through my shield.
“Let him go, Hannah!” a tender palm touched my scarred face. I twanged and unclenched my fingeres.
A diffused silhouette stood behind me. Her face was darkened but I didn’t need to guess who she was. She came to take the third victim along. She stretched her hand for me but I refused it. The weakness covered me in a warm blanket and I hardly made myself keep on my knees.
The dim fell from my eyes. I shook my head and looked around – there wasn’t Lisa near me. Only Andrew grinned to me maniacally, his torn face – like last salute. I slowly sat down on the floor.
A timid smile crooked my blooded lips.
Andrew was dead.
I closed my eyes and stepped in the darkened passage.




 
Chapter 10
Gift of death

If there was something to find in this darkness, I wouldn’t ever, for all my senses were frozen with numbness. My vision accepted nothing but black, my ears heard nothing but silence, my skin felt nothing but emptiness, my nose sniffed only insipid air. I still kept moving although had to stop and think over the situation. I still was going forward, because I got used to it during life and couldn’t give up this sacred habit in a moment. Giving up! Huh, I clung to life with all the minor things it had. I was still breathing, although there was no need. I still felt the pain and it was tearing me asunder.
In this darkness pain was the most beautiful thing a man could have, for in a meaning it made me more live than dead.
Even if I had to spend the whole eternity drifting in this Nowhere, between life and Death, like Leuce did before me, like millions of comatosers did, I was ready with happiness. Anything, but not death! I wasn’t ready to give up existing, when I suddenly understood how much it was worth. Life...
There wasn’t life for me anymore. Just emptiness and loneliness. Peace. Isn’t it what I’ve dreamt about for all my life? Wasn’t it precious? Desirable?
I couldn’t think of all the great things I left there, on the Earth. Too much to get despaired, totally frustrated, totally weak, now, when I needed all my strength not to surrender to this oblivion and not to die. I couldn’t think of them, but it didn’t prevent memories from parading in front of my blind eyes and torturing, torturing me with evidence of my end. People I loved, things I appreciated – everything was my Past and I had no future.
Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t.
I focused on my pain. Feeling it so clearly as I felt was equal to being alive. My body pled to cut it off, to stop it from burning me from within. I did care only of the opposite thing – I should have prolonged it as much as I could. I should have born it while I was breathing in that odd meaning that I sucked in my lungs. There was no air around me. I couldn’t ever run out of it. If I stopped breathing it also would change nothing, for it was just another life mark, my last hope to belong to their world. The world of living.
Did Leuce feel the same damn thing? Did she clung to life in the same despair? Finally, she woke up, may be, I can also.
It was a rhetorical question. I couldn’t. I knew it perfectly. Sixteen wounds in my body bled me to death, there wasn’t blood in my veins, this red and viscile essence of life. There wasn’t strength to go on. But there was a wish! A will! A desire!
Throughout the centuries of gloom and despair, throughout wars and disasters wasn’t it the only thing that maintained life? This desire was the core of life, the heart of everything. I had it, so why don’t have a try? Why?
What about were my tries in this Nowhere? For whom? For what?
Whatever the wish was strong, the powers of my body, aching and torn, were limited. Grains of sand in my sand-glass, drops of blood in my distant body ran away with enormous speed and I felt it. This noweher also had time and it was reaching the end. I depended on my body, the needless thing that only pushed me to precipice. There would be no coma for me. This gloomy oblivion, I drifted in, was nothing more but a purgatory before the Hades.
With every step forward, with every blooddrop fallen from my wounds, I was closer to death. My strength faded, my movements grew inconfident and indistinct. I staggered and stumbled over nothing, because there was nothing in this nowhere. My legs refused to carry me longer. My head refused to concentrate on feeling, thinking, remembering. I moved forward automatically, I still moved forward.
Time was breaking away and I couldn’t hold it for a minute. There wasn’t a minute left. One last step and I would fall down and never-never-never again come to move.
My breathing went inaudible. I couldn’t move my chest. I slipped down in the soft emptiness and froze. A timid rustle of material crossed my ears. A black shadow flashed near me, so black that it was even blacker than darkness surrounding me. I saw the silhouette, leaning over me. No, I screwed up my eyes, I’m breathing. You can’t take it while I’m breathing. It’s unfair. I struggle. I have a chance.
I heard nothing, but when opened my eyes saw the silhouette right near me, its face in my hand’s reach. It was such a silent thing, a stalker. Now it came to grasp my hand and lead me to the light if there was light for me.
No, I wept, don’t you, please, don’t you. Please...
Did Lisa hear me when I called the same word for her? Did death hear my demand when I asked Lisa to stay alive? Who could hear anything now, when even my words stayed unsaid in my head, unspoken with my tongue, although I fought hard for my last chance to exist.
I felt a shy touch to my hand. The fingers were cold and thin, they entwined with mine – trembling. The hold of death was tender and soothing. May be, it wasn’t that bad I pretended it to be. May be, when I die, I won’t mourn. We were said to forget about life’s woes after death, we were said to find happiness instead of pain. We were said to forget everything.
“No!” I shouted away. “I don’t want to forget! I’m not ready for light!”
I tried to free my hand. Death didn’t let me go. It pulled me up, making me rise on my feet and dragged me right to the light I hated now most of all. I saw it glimpse in the end of my dark tunnel. Gross, but it really was in the end of the tunnel. It existed, this famous light. I dodged and kicked the death where it should have had the knee. It didn’t help. My idea to fight with it by human methods was ridiculous.
The light approached even more rapidly, sucking me into the hole. I didn’t want. I wasn’t going. I never will...
Sudden flash of white blinded me so that I freed my hand from death’s grasp and covered my eyes. In a second there was nothing but a slightest breath of wind on my aching skin. The pain didn’t vanish, it even worsened. I opened my eyes and looked around.
In this godforsaken place there was scenery to watch and – somehow – to admire. I breathed with relief. White hills, white skies, white surface of water, crusted with rime. It wasn’t paradise obviously. It wasn’t Hades, either.
Whatever cast me here, it was gracious.
It was my hopeland, my loveland – my homeland. It sparkled with snowcrystals and smelled frost. It was real and I stood right in the midle of this Snowqueen’s kingdom and inhaled purity in my burnt lungs. The uneven circle above used to be sun in clearer weather. The skies, the sea, the mountains, the lowlands were all one strange picture of chaotical white strokes, varying in tints and depth. My eyes got tired very soon of watching this monotonous landscape, but I couldn’t move, scared that this illusion would crumble and I would be left with death face to face.
But even here, in this precious place, where life seemed to freeze and linger, implacable rhythm of time went on counting not seconds, parts of moments. I felt its touch on my skin, it rushed me to go further, to reach the limit. The point of my destination was somewhere here, in the whiteness. I should have gone now. I couldn’t spend my eternity, standing here like a statue, firstly because I didn’t have an eternity.
Not a moment.
“No”, I cried. “If you want me, you’d come and have me! I won’t move a step from here!”
The echoing scream was my answer. The silence continued its route.
But if... I thought suddenly... if this whiteness is my death. What if this purity and beauty is the last thing I see on my way down, the last and the eternal. What if I am condemned to stand here for millions of years and watch the snow, the ice, the rime? What will I do? What if my former nightmare of being buried alive came true and now I was really buried alive in a grave of snow? What if?
The noise swelled in my head. I compressed it in my hands, trying to squeeze the sound out. I uttered an unhuman shriek and fell on the snow, writhing from pain. The snow was cold. Sharp cornflakes thrust in my skin, making the torture more and more irresistable with every second. I screamed, screamed, screamed, reaching the highest notes.
The glass coldness around me never broke.
I rose on my feet and, totally maddened, rushed forward, running from the white emptiness around me. If there just was someone to lead me out, someone who knew the way, anywhere, but out! I rushed and my feet felt like if the surface lowered, a vague memory crossed my mind. Wings, they used to be so long ago, so far away in the gloom.
No, I protested, I’m not ready, please, not this white-covered graveyard.
No.
My remote body counted my last seconds. My life-thread strained and creaked brokenly. The fibres whined and one by one tore in two. I felt it with my whole organism, these last moments like red-hot knives on my skin.
No.
The end was obvious. It breathed in my backhead. I could run anywhere but it would always find me, for it was already inside me. It sucked life from me, although I didn’t have much of it. I was already dead but ridiculously didn’t want to admit it. The question was when I would be so spent that have to call it to life.
Never, I promised. I will never give up. Never.
I fell. Huh, it will be over soon. I will be alright from then on. So why do try? Why do go on this cruel way? Why?
“No!” I shouted again. “I am not ready. Leave me be! Leave me breathe! Leave me live!”
The same thin fingers touched my face. I couldn’t move, exhaling hard the remainders of the air. Death stalked me again, this time I was awfully weak to resist. I wasn’t ever a great resister. I should have learnt throughout the life. But I’d waisted it for mourning over the peace that had just one name – Death.
The caress of the cold hand on my burnt face was soothing, the pain seemed to cease. My body... where was it? Did it feel the same way I felt? Did it lie the same way I lay? Did it cry the same tears I shed? Did it feel anything?
Will I feel anything when they put it in the ground? Will I hear their last farewell? Will...
I caught the hand with my trembling fingers. It bent but I held it tight, pressing hard on the place where veins were. Lisa’s great blue eyes watched me wistfully, with sympathy. Her black cloths fluttered in the wind that I didn’t feel.
“Lisa?” I breathed.
She smiled. I let her hand down and stared in the skies. My distant body had the last moments now and I wanted to hear what the end would be like. The sandgrains in hour-glass fussed and oozed down, five of them, four, three...
I saw nothing. But in this ugly silence I heard them scratch the glass and then slowly land on the top of the heap with a slightest sound possible. I heard it and my heart slowed beating – there, not here, for now I was nothing but a memory. Memories don’t need a heart.
The last sandgrain escaped from the upper cup. With a faint rustle it fell down. My heart, hopeful, went on beating slowly. Praying, wishing, desiring I listened to the silence – for just another grain, another minute, another chance. Moments interlaced in seconds, seconds turned in minutes. There was nothing to be heard. Lonely wind toyed with Lisa’s hair, whistling sadly in my ears.
Far away, my heart stopped.
“No” the wind caught and carried away my last breath.
I love you, goodbye.

It was lying like I’d expected – coiled like embryo, pressing hands to the wound in the chest. It froze motionless, not a visible evidence of life, still present in this body. There wasn’t any life in it, simply. Not a memory. The body without a soul meant nothing. A soul without a body meant nothing twice more.
Drifting in the air right above it I understood it too clear not to feel any frustration about it. I had so much in my life I didn’t appreciate and now lost so much. To begin with, the life itself.
The blood around the body was spectacular. May be, because it still saved the warmth, the colors, slowly drying and crusting. I stepped over another body on my way and leaned over myself. This time I could see everything from an outer point, more objective. The mirrors did lie. The death – didn’t.
This girl was beautiful. Dark hair tousled in the blood, pale cheeks with tender cheekbones and a stubborn chin; lips of red, fading away, and eyes wide open in admiration. Her face was beautiful with a beauty of the one who discovered how precious life was.
Slumber in peace, Little Anne. Close your eyes.
Was this girl ever me? Did I really smile with this lips, kissed Philip? Did I really watch the world with this eyes? Did I really love with this heart that would never beat once?
“Beautiful”
Lisa. My watchful stalker. My friend in life, my companion in death.
“Thanks” I said, pleased with this compliment. I used to possess this body some time ago. I lacked it, not quite aware how to exist without desiring anything. Wanting was always a prerogative of the body, not soul. How sad and – ridiculous.
“We’ll have to go soon” Lisa said.
My shape taunted like if I tried to shrug. Being and not being at the same time could be annoying if I sensed anything except regret.
“I don’t want to go now” I said.
Death wasn’t a weird thing – it was well-organized and even pleasant. If I didn’t protest so hard, I would be free and non-feeling in the same moment my body closed my eyes on this floor. But I was stubborn and silly.
I wasn’t. I lied to Lisa, to myself. My body had died, my soul had died somehow too, but I had’t died yet. I was here, drifting, expecting that someone came and returned the body back to life so that I could have a chance.
It didn’t take long. I watched the doctors fuss around three bodies, trying to wake up us all. Andrew didn’t demosntrate any signs of dwelling around here in the room, neither did Leuce. They already departed, I understood. I was the only who didn’t want to give up that easily. Hope... so strong and so harmonious in me – the energy itself was smelled in the air.
Kathe mesmerized me through a window-screen. Silent tears flowed down her pink cheeks, majestic crystals. She murmured a pray through clenched teeth. Near her, white faced Alex tossed in the hall, cursing gods on his head.
“I should have hurried. What could Andrew have about Leuce in the midnight?”
I fathomed through the door and lingered near Kathe. I loved her, I felt this love through the shell of oblivion that wrapped me up like a cocoon. She was dear to me even now, when all the greats of life became insignificant and remote. I still loved her from the bottom of my heart and this heart, I didn’t have anymore, hurt with farewell. We were friends in life, stay my friend in death, Kathe, I asked. Don’t cry. Don’t mourn.
I’m leaving you for a better place. Open skies, heaven of love and happiness, angels around me – that’s a place where I go. It’s miraculous. Don’t mourn. It’s needless and vain. You won’t wake me. And in some point, I will always be with you. I will guard you. I will take care, because I love you.
I touched her wet chin with my hand – invisible and imperceptible. She twitched and her breathing froze. She listened to something and then turned to the place where I stood. She looked right on me, or, may be through me.
Do you feel I’m here? I will always be here for you. I will always care about you. But, please, let me go, please...
“Stay!” she whispered.
I can’t! How can’t you see I can’t? I’m already gone, Kathy. I’m dead! Nothing in this world can make me stay. Not a friendship, not a hope. Nothing, Kathy, even love doesn’t work where death succeeded. I can’t, but if you just knew how much I want to stay.
Do you hear me, Kathy? I love you! I will always love you!
And Dimah. And Leuce. And girls. And boys. And Juls... I will remember, I promise you, Kathy, but you – don’t you mourn.
“I love you, Ann!” she yelled, reaching her hands for me.
Noooh. I cast a look on the cieling where the gods judged me. Let me stay. I don’t want to go. I want to stay, to go on suffering, to go on living. For all the gods I pray, for all the miracles I ask: let me stay here with the ones I love, with the ones I didn’t tell the truth. The truth is that nothing can make me part with them, for I love them.
Pozhaluista...
“Ann, that’s time!” Lisa patted my shoulder. I trembled from her touch and turned to her.
There were tears of sympathy in her eyes. They cost nothing, compared with what I felt. This time I had to go, I had to give up, but I wasn’t able. There wasn’t anything except them, this guys I loved. I stared at Lisa and smiled.
“I can’t go, Lisa!”
“You can’t stay!” she shook her vague head.
“Stay!” Kathe pled in the emptiness.
“They can’t make you stay. You’re already gone!” Lisa watched me with pity.
I cast a look on the body. Totally dead and useless it lay on the cot, covered with a white sheet. It waited for the carriage to take it to the mortuary. The body. My body.
“Ann!” Lisa urged me to go. “You should go, otherwise you’ll become the thing Jane was. Do you want to be a ghost?”
I sighed. No way. Have to go. I have to go. I, damn it, have to go. Now and forever.
Still I can’t.
I caressed Kathe’s wet cheeks with my fingers, touched her curly wild hair. She smiled to me as if she knew where I was. She, too, knew I didn’t have a choice. Kathe, the last one that held me on this ground, submitted and let me go. That was what I asked for.
“I love you!” she whispered. “I will never forget!”
The last chain broke and I felt free.
Endless tide of pain flooded over me so that I almost drowned underwater. Lisa took my hand and we went foward, the lights fading on our way. The visions of the hospital grew incoherent and blurred. With every step, the pain in me became more and more unbearable. I thought that the most painful stage was passed, but it was ten times worse than everything I had before altogether. I stopped on the halfway and bent, crucified with spasm of agony.
“Ann?” Lisa’s voice sounded from outside.
I was in a dense mist that shielded me, kept me unmoving. I writhed and uttered a hoarse.
“Lisa?” I called.
“Ann? Ann? Ann! That’s alright! Please, stand it! It’s sometimes painful!”
I heard her, but didn’t comprehed. The only thought that rhythmed in my head was about having this agony gone. I trembled and stretched my hands, hoping someone would get me out of the pain, no matter where. I raised them up, praying for help.
I came to my senses on the floor of Leuce’s ward, like I had never left it. There was nobody around me, no Kathe in the window-screen. On her cot, pale like a moonpath, Leuce lay unconscious but still alive. The devices around her buzzed and winced with displays. The picture was so familiar that I smiled.
In a moment Alex will knock in the window and I’ll let him in.
I drifted to Leuce over the puddle of blood and touched her forehead with a tender kiss. You will wake up, I said. And when you do, please, tell them I love them. Most of all in this life, I love them. Tell Kathe, that I heard her, tell her I will also remember, I promised.
Tell him, I loved him. Tell Philip, my last breath was for him.
I love you, Leuce.
I turned away, to make my last steps. I couldn’t go and I couldn’t stay. Everything was impossible. Nevertheless, I smiled to Lisa, who appeared in the corner. She nodded. I took her hand and, trying not to look back, followed her on our way – to heaven.
“Haven’t you ever thought that if you have a gift of life, there must also be a gift of death?”
Lisa let my hand down. We turned synchronously and stared at Leuce, dark figure with her face moonlit. Her eyes silvered in the gloom, two guiding stars. I rushed to her and squeezed in my hug, if a haze could squeeze another haze. She was also the one I loved and it was nice of her to see me off. She moved me away and walked to Lisa.
“She can’t stay, Leuce. She’s already gone!” Lisa shook her head. “You can’t make her stay!”
 “You can’t make her go either!” Leuce said.
“I... can’t!” Lisa confessed.
I froze, unbelieving.
“A gift of death, Lisa! Do you know what it is?” Leuce asked.
Lisa nodded, thinking over.
“I see your point!”
“They say it won’t be very hurtful!”
“It will be impossible!” Lisa amended in a whisper.
“Fuf!” Leuce smiled. “That’s no difference!”
Lisa came to a decision. She straightened, drew out her chin and turned to me. I didn’t need any explanations, instead I wanted to come to Leuce and plead “No” in her tranquil face. But there was such a peaceful resolution in it, that I only clenched my fists and strained my knees not to tremble. I felt tears tickle my cheeks with moist. I didn’t care. I only watched Leuce and Lisa, two solemn statutes on my way to heaven. I shivered.
“You... can’t!” I said.
There was firmness of stone in my voice and nevertheless it cracked in the end.
“Ann, look at me. That is the choice we always have to make in the end. You made your choice. You found strength to stay here, to resist, to survive. I won’t ever find it for myself, because I don’t want to stay. See? That would be unfair – trying to keep you away and making me linger. And may be it’s the rightest decision ever possible in my life – to put things in a right order, to fix everything. It was the most easy one, Ann. It’s what I want for myself! And if you give me chance, I will go now. Let me, Ann! I can’t go as long as you Keep My Soul”.
I could do that right choice, like I comprehended it, and make Leuce stay. I could say’no’ and drift away with Lisa, making Leuce explain why I didn’t accept the chance she gave to me. I could feign an altruist from myself, a fair one. I could have my dismal final, leaving Leuce to shed tears over me – gone forever.
But I wanted these tears to be saved for myself.

I watched Lisa and Leuce walk away in the darkness, an hour till the dawn. And when the dawn came I greeted it from the window of my own ward, where my unconscious body waited for my return.
 
I woke up in Yule-tide, two months later.
 
Chapter 11
Girl from the river

“Just don’t imagine how you fly! Relax. You need to feel how the gravitation evaporates from you. Dissolve in the reality. Fuf, Ann, don’t forget to close your eyes. Ready? Now run!”
I made an awkward step and fell on the ground, right under Eva’s feet. She observed me from above and clicked her tongue. I winced and rubbed my knee. Another one bruise, good Lord! Eva surely had a sense on torturing me.
“Don’t look as if it is me who’s a dolt!”
She snarled and soared above me in the air, demonstrating that she was far from beeing a dolt – in flying at least. I admired her graceful dance and frowned. I will overcome it! I will!
I gathered up and rushed down the hill. In the very bottom of it, my foot stumbled over a small rock and instead of soaring high I ploughed the ground. Tiny birds flushed from under my nose, chirping merrily. I grimaced a smile of the Beast from famous Disney movie.
“If you go on sinking down like a cursed, you’ll never get to the sky!” Eva instructed me while I shook off the clods of soil from my face.
She looked at me and laughed. Of course, she could laugh a lot at my failures. I was almost ready to submit when the envy crossed my heart. Envy. I watched Eva fly carelessly in the air and envied her most of all. She was so graceful there, above, while I stood on the ground like a wondered teengaer.
Eva treated my request to be my teacher like a joke. She enjoyed my vain endevours to rush down the hill, to jump in the air. It caused her laugh and nothing more.
I would never forget how she looked like when I succeed. I took off the ground for three seconds, it was more of a long jump, but it was a real progress. Eva watched me like if saw the light after years of total blindness. I fell on the ground, my mouth full of dirt. She floated to me and whispered right in my ear:
“I thought it was impossible!”
Well, I smiled to her, I thought the same damn thing. May be if I didn’t waste time on stupid thoughts I could have fllown long ago. Three years of expectations and prostration were spent for nothing, but mourning over the things that never belonged to me. Over Philip who had never written me a line. Over wings that were just another fun.
Flying surely remained a unachievable dream for me, but I didn’t care. Sometimes I spent time on the heel, persuading my hands to spread like wings and lift me up. They refused, but I was stubborn. Sometimes they yielded and I lingered half a meter abover the ground – for maximum six seconds. Then I flopped down on the ground and counted my bruises.
Eva tried to head my trainings, but she was a good-for-nothing instructor. Her instructions could hardly help to stand on the ground, not to mention flying. Moreover, she constantly irriated me with her teasing remarks. Plus she used to teach me floating above my head so that I had to cock it up.
At the same time I liked her company. My friends didn’t favour my ‘hill-parties’ and refused to accompany me. By them, it was ‘clinging to old cheers’. No, I didn’t cling. I liked the efforts themselves, endles tries, cheerful falls. In the end Eva always dragged me out of a puddle and a snowdrift, called me a dolt (she had a sense about this word) and we went on laughing all the way.
Eva came back. She was among my friends while I slept. She was around me when I recovered. Her presence was like a lullaby – so tender and soothing. She resembled Leuce, always laughing, teasing and so sharp-tongued.
This girl had her own story. And if mine was already told, her story still lacked the last pages. Love could be incompatible with life, she said once to me. I knew some day she would live it through and get the strength to write the last paragraph. But as I stuck to this sibject she got remote and her face darkened with memories. I wanted to lighten her burden, to make her speak out. My soul-keeping abilities didn’t work like they used to.
When I woke up from my sleep life was totally different for me. I left everything that made me uncertain in my past. I walked into the new day clean and sure, without wings, without fairiness, without doubts. Damn it, completely human!
As I lost everything that tortured my mind I felt free. It was far from peace because I lacked one important thing. But I liked the way I went now. Firstly my friends thought I was grieving about Leuce. Then they blamed my condition on my own death-experience. Then – sorted through all the possible variants – they cursed Philip for my indifference.
Huh. Leuce was happy in paradise without us mourning about her. As for my death, I managed to get out of it and revive so it was not to the point. Philip, especially, had nothing to do with the fact I carefully avoided the drunken parties, endless daters that my friends palmed off to me. They tried hard to cheer me in that od meaning they understood cheers. They wanted to make me happy.
But I was already happy.
In a year they understood everything was needless. There was a smile on my face without these idiotic orgies. I laughed and hardly needed to be cheered up. I was content, especially when everyone left me alone. This was, probably, the only time my friends realized I wasn’t any depressed, simply I was different. I prefered silence to music, peace to adventures and the deal was not in what I passed through but in my character.
They left me be. After the graduation a private clinic proposed me a job of a Chief-pharmacist. I had to control the supplies of drugs in the local pharmacy. The clinic was situated near Moscow, in a private area in small village. They promised me an attractive salary and good compensation. Although I had plenty of possible variants and as an excellent student could get any prestige work, I accepted the proposal.
Kathe boycotted me for a fortnight. We were an acknowledged scientific team and many laboratories wanted to have us in their collection. Nobody doubted in our future and my sudden break up was worse than a betray.
I didn’t waste time, trying to explain Kathe my motives. I packed my things and moved to the god-forsaken village, in a small but very comfortable wooden house on the bank of the river. The scenery around it was amazing – a birch forest, green ribbon of the river and skies, not smogged but clear. The ringing silence and flesh air cured my soul wounds better than drums and drunken students. I breathed in full lungs and smiled to the sun.
I worked in the morning and was free in the afternoon. I had never thought that there were so many activities in the village. My neighbor, a young psychiatrist that just broke up with his wife, taught me to fish.
Early in the twilight we climbed down the bank and hid in the cane tangle. The fishing–rod didn’t obey my unexperienced movements. I waved my hands and the rod tangled in the high river grass. I laughed and scared away the fish. If we fished out any small crucian, it was a real luck.
I liked my new friend. He talked little about his family problems. So did I. Our subjectes were light-minded and easy. We discussed the fishing, the weather, the villagers and the work. Well, we tried. His every cue was funny so that I burst out laughing. I fell in the river and drowned falsely while he fussed on the shore. Then he fainted on the grass and I had to get out of the river by myself. I kicked him gently and he knocked me down on the grass.
We laughed all the time. Only at work when we accidentally met, he acted “Kirill Petrovich”. In my turn I feigned “Ann Nikolaevna” and we dispersed. It was a part of our ridiculous game because everyone knew about our fishing week-ends.
Chief-Doctor liked to drop in my office and inquire about our success in fishing. If the fish was okay I boasted and treated him with fried carps. If we didn’t fish out anything worthwhile, I only sighed. The chief-doctor was a fishing-enthusiast in his youth, but now he was too old. With last strength he fought – with stairs that his legs didn’t want to overcome, with distraction.
Still he controlled the clinic with a firm hand and nobody could say he was too old for it. His work was all he had, for his family got into a car-accident. His wife, his daughter with her husband, his son and three grandchildren were in a bus that collided into a pier and fell in the river.
He knew my story. I knew his. In moments of despair we could support each other – young and old, no difference between us. Woe made people equal, like Death.
Leuce, Lisa and tutoress never visited me in nightmares. I slept deeply and peacefully, looking foward to every new morning of my life. It was so exciting – to meet the sun in the dawn, to inhale fresh air and realize I was still alive...
I raised from the ground and shook off the dust from my clothes. If my colleagues saw me now... Well, most of them were old respectable men that treated my childish tricks with cool indifference. I heard them say underhand: “She is young, she will have sown with her wild oats!”
Will I? Huh..
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? The party is going to be tremendous!” I said.
“You don’t seem to be very happy with it, do you?” she smiled, landing near me. She also got tired of talking to me, bent.
“Oh, Kathe’s in her rush. Nothing can prevent her from partying. She just broke up with another boy-friend and included this event in ground-list. But she ensures us the main cause is, of course, my birthday!”
“Birthday?” she squinted. “Isn’t it in February?”
“It is!”
She scratched her head and took out the phone to ensure it was August now. I laughed.
“I haven’t celebrated it for ages so that everyone already forgot the date! And Kathe profits by it! She invited a crowd of people and I hardly imagine where they will settle. And how much food I have to prepare!” I rolled up my eyes.
“Still you want me to come?” she asked.
“Of course I do. It’s my birthday in the end!”
She was at lost.
“May be I’ll drop in... won’t you get offended if I don’t come?”
“I won’t. You might have lots of problem with your work!”
She snapped her fingeres and a slight breeze caught her red lock.
“Do you call it problems?”
“The storm last week was your certain defect!” I shrugged.
We decended from the green hill to the river. My house hid in the forest, close to the main road but far enough not to be disturbed too often. Villagers talked much about me but didn’t bother my solitude. When I got to the village to stock up with food and trifles, they met me, greeted and sometimes asked for a consultation.
They were very friendly. They didn’t meddle in my private life, including my private area. They respected my peace and I paid them back. When some hunter or angler wandered to my place, I always invited him to tea with me. I returned stray dogs to their owners and children to parents. I was a fond mushroomer and children usually asked me to take them along.
When I had time I dropped in a little local kindergarten and told stories. Children listened to me, enchanted, mouth-open. Their admiring eyes sparkled as I narrated. Princesses, dragons, noble robbers, smart farmers – they all inhabited my fairy-tales. The children listened and believed. The girls gathered imaginary flowers and presented them to their gallant knights. The boys defeated imaginary dragons with pillows and attacked pyrates. The girls fainted and waited the warriors to rescue them. I watched the children play a fairy-tale and sighed.
One story proved to be the best one, their favourite. When I began it with words “There lived a girl and she could fly’ the children calmed down, took their beds and watched me from under the blankets. They all had heard the story for almost million times.
But every time there was someone who asked me to repeat. They begged me until I yielded. In some time the true story turned into a fairy-tale and I almost forgot that this girl who ‘could fly’ was no other but myself. I told them how the girl loved a demon. I told them how she gave away the wings for his chance to flee. She survived because her friends loved her. And she loved them. Love – it’s essential part of life. Inseparable, I said and they believed.
If I taught them to appreaciate love and life, that was the most of me.
Once a little curly girl, more alike Kathe in her childhood, asked me:
“And she waited until he came back? And then they lived happily ever after?”
I smiled. What an angel!
“You see, Lisa, some stories don’t have a happy ending! The girl never waited for him. He was gone and the greatest gift of love was to know that he survived. And she was happy with it, whether he returned or not!”
“All the stories have a happy ending!” the stubborn child shook her head.
I sighed. Was it for Leuce? For Lisa? For tutoress? And actually, happy endings – they vary. I was happy with mine. It was more than I could wish for.
“I believe he will come back!” little Zoe said.
And first time in this new life I shed a tear. Lonely one it rolled down my cheek and vanished on my lips, with a salty aftertaste. The children got silent and worried. A nanny looked in to check why we were so mute. I smiled wide, winked at the audience. They immediately became noisy and over-animated, playing another pyrate attack.
I made friends with children very soon. They were open and sincere. Their parents were the same kind of people. In this god-forsaken place people still estimated usual human values.They trusted friendship and love. I liked them too much but – barely wanted to get closer.
Once, far into the night, I was awakened by an urgent knock at my door. Sleepy, in a worn through T-shirt I opened the door, cursing the idiots that didn’t sleep in this dark hour. It was a local pastry-cook, soaked through and rather tearful. I dragged him into the house and, not knowing how to be more hospitable, pushed a slice of wurst to him.
This gloomy thin man spoilt the conception of pastry-cook as a stout smiling person. This guy resembled an exterminator of cocroaches, not a man surrounded with biscuits and candies all day long.
But even with his wry face, he was a minion of all local children from 9 to 90 years old. Even I, not a big admirer of desserts, lingered in his confectionary for hours, chosing sweets or cakes. He offered me to taste and I could hardly refuse. Sometimes, when he wasn’t too busy, I stopped to talk with him and we discussed fantasy books. He was fond of the same fairy-tales, but only for grown ups. Elves, dwarves, ghost warriors – elder children gathered around us and he presented us with sweets. He had never smiled, never laughed with me, but he seemed to have felt everything very deep. Very-very deep.
He was the most respectable man in the village. Numerous patients of the clinic called on the candy-shop to have a sweet. “They think that these magic sweets are medicinal!” Chief-doctor said to me.
Thus I was very intrigued when this discreet person appeared in my place, trembling with horror. He muttered something, and the only thing I got was that he needed a doctor.
That was a real problem. In the end of July all the doctors from clinic left for Moscow to their families. The clinic was closed and deserted. Only those of staff remained who lived right in the village.
I pulled on an elastic coat and rushed out. On the way Kiril joined us, demanding what I needed from him in half past three in the morning.
Unbearable screams came from the cook’s house. He stoppled his ears and refused to enter. The comprehension struck me. His wife, young plump beauty was travailing. What we could do – a psychiatrist and a pharmacist - remained unclear. My valiant doctor fainted near the woman as soon as we entered the room.
The delivery was difficult. I was prepared to mixing drugs, calculating dosage but not persuading a creature I had never seen before to get out and don’t torture his mother. My talents of persuasion were to the hell. The child lingered, the mother shouted so that half of the village gathered outside. I rushed here and there, trying to get out the child and wake up Kiril. In the end I passed him to the villagers and concentrated on the mother.
She was so young and so beautiful that I even ceased, admiring. Her broken roar returned me to reality. I fussed around her, trying not to think I was going to accouche first in my life.
When the shriek of the newborn rang in my ears I fell on my knees and thanked the god for this – most precious miracle – gift of life.
The birth was a great event in the village. The celebration lasted for three days. I was also invited, but refused to attend. The pastry-cook asked me to be the god-mother, but I also refused. There wasn’t any merit of mine that the baby was born healthy and beautiful.
“Girl from the River” the villagers called me. I was considered to be their personal fairy, their guardian angel. I didn’t care while no one of them dared to bother me for trifles. In fact, that was nice of them – to like me.
Eva stopped me near the house and bid farewell.
“Just drop in any time! The invitation is in effect!” I send her a kiss.
She started from her place and vanished in the air. I rushed in the house. My mother was in the kitchen, rolling the pastry for a gigantic party pie. I was glad she came to visit me this summer. She had lived for most of her life near the sea, and the absence of salty water, smelled with laminaria, began to depress her in three days.
I kissed her in a cheek and took the rolling-pin from her. She tugged me by nose and left it covered with flour. I sneezed.
“Thanks, you took some preparations on yourself, but don’t overdo it, Ma! If Kathe really wanted to have so much food, she should have cooked it by herself! You should go and have a sunbathe. They forecast a real shower for tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow no one will pay attention to some drops outside. There’s so many drinks to cope with!” she grinned and pointed at the flat. “Is it enough?”
I scooped the liquid chocolate from the pan and smeared over the flat. The filling smelled so pleasant that I hardly helped carrying it by my mouth. The sweet trickles flowed down my chin.
“You are a little pig, Anny! I didn’t notice, when have you grown up?”
“You contrary yourself, Ma! I am still your little girl!” I licked my brown lips.
Mom took the pan from me and poured the remainder of filling on the pastry. It was a good move – I could swallow it without batting an eye. There was no chocolate left and I observed the kitchen for something else... Huh... wurst!
“Nooo, Ann! It’s for the salad!” she snatched the wurst from my playful fingers. “If you are hungry, you can have the sandwiches. They are in the fridge!”
Trying to prevent the plunder of fridge she handled them to me. I went to the sitting-room. It was jammed with batteries of bottles. Drinks of various kinds – beer, vodka, wine, liqueur, fizz, jin, cognac – were prepared to satisfy even the most demanding taste. The whole corner was occupied by packs of juice – it was my little paradise. From some time to all the beverages I prefered orange juice. And psychology had nothing to do with it.
Dimah dropped in two days ago to unload the supplies of drinks. As he took the bottles from the truck my jaw sank lower and lower.
“Kathe wants to excel herself, doesn’t she?” I asked.
“Kathe? No, in her measures it’s not too much. She is, on the contrary, afraid it won’t be enough and someone will have to run for more in the village!”
I pretended the confusion of poor villagers when this gang dump in the round-the-clock bar and demand for all the supplies of drinks they have. My reputation will be spoilt when all this crowd begins to party. The thunder from my private area will awaken everyone in kilometers.
My classmates used to visit me in my corner, but never with their full completment. Maximum, three of them. For holidays I got to the city, when they wanted to see me.
This party was promising to break all world’s records. Kathe warned me there would be plenty of people: my classmates, boyfrineds and girlfrineds, sisters and brothers, some teachers. I enlisted only doctor Kiril and Eva. Julia added herself in the list in the very last moment – she was pregnant. Mum and I objected but she promised she would not dance and rage too much. And – of course – no drinks at all.
She said that some loud music and wild laughter would be useful for her baby – “let him get used to life” she said. Even Mike wasn’t able to stop my mad sister from being an idiot.
The car signalled in the yard. I hurried to met the first guests and was pleasantly surprised to see our ‘happy mommy’ wave me from the car. Michael helped her to climb out and I ran to Julia.
She was unbelievably attractive – like all the happy women look like. The life inside her brought light on her face and grace in her movements. If I knew my awkward sister would turn into such a beauty, I would, probably, envy her. But there was only anticipating – I imagined already how would flood my nephew with presents. Julia promised to bring him every summer to my corner.
“Recieve her! Try not to break. She is fragile!” Make snarled, looking gloomily at the wife.
“Don’t worry, Mike! I’ll take care! How’s my nephew?” I pressed my ear to her prominent belly.
“His best regards to the girl of the day!” Julia pointed at Mike, who bent under the weight of a big box. “This is for you!”
I winced.
“That’s unfair! We agreed upon no presents, Julia. Don’t say you were decieved too. How could you forget my true birthdate?”
“I remember. But some day you have to celebrate it, why not now? And what about this – I talked with the lads and they said we’d give the presents tomorrow! So you can’t unwrap it until!” she smiled. “Where’s Mom?”
“Cooks!” I pulled her to the kitchen. “Bet on she dies to see you, Juls!”
Mom and Julia kissed each other and my sister immediately set about to slice the vegetables. I wondered when Julia became such a housewife. Formerly she admitted only cereals and boiled buckweat. “Sheer rat!” Mom called her, not far from truth. But after the wedding she changed sharply. Mike wasn’t a big lover of mixed fodder. Fuf. Julia was a big lover of Mike. She had to choose.
She spoilt him with the most delicious food ever possible, begging mom for recipes. They were like too conspirators, muttering passwords ‘kulebyakas’, ‘beef rolls’, ‘fried chicken with pomegranate gravy’. I could not help choking with spittle. These talks about food could ruin my appetite till the end of the days.
During two years of marriage Juls learnt by heart tonns of recipes and became a walking culinary encyclopedia. Of course, my wurst-diet caused her righteous anger – she said I was going to damage my stomach. Well, while mom was here, the worst thing that could happen to me was obesity. I had never eaten so much and now repaired the omission.
I watched the heaps of cut vegetables in the basins and sighed. No, even this abundance will be insufficient for my glutton-guests.
“Kathe and co will arrive today to help with the cooking!” I informed women.
Julia chuckled as I stole a piece of tomato from the besin. She wasn’t like me. She never had been like me save the early childhood. Even Mom said that newborn we were completely undistinguishable. Now the striking difference between us was obvious. Julia was going to become a mother – she grew up and held her happiness in her hands. In this meaning, I was an ugly duckling: no children, no husband... no boyfriend at least.
Philip, he still taunted my mind.
“Kathe? Help? With cooking? I misheard?” Mom set about the wurst.
I couldn’t watch steadily how the delicate product turned into dust under her proficient knife. To amuse myself, I decided to participate in this annihilation too and chose the pepper. I didn’t pity it, in the end.
“Your dear Kathe will spoil us everything!” Julia supported Mom. “She is crook-armed!”
Fuf, that was true. Kathe proved to be a real monster about parties, drinks and men, but never could boil a sausage. She didn’t need, actually. Her life was full of work in a transnational healthcare firm, with everynight clubbing and dating... sometimes the points in this list mixed up and Kathe got pleasant with useful at once.
“There will be an army of normal girls. Tany and Mary will help you!”
“Try to keep your friend off the kitchen and everything will be okay!” Mom advised me.
I laughed. Kathe was cool, but her endless talks about her boyfriends made me sleepy. There were no ordinary girlish emotional “wows and oh-ohs”. Just a quick enumeration of all the men she dealt with during the week.
For men she was irresistable. A wave of eyelashes, a shy smile and they fell to her feet with hands and hearts ready. These were immediately rejected. Those who fought to bitter end attracted her attention but finally fell defeated too. Kathe drifted in life, searching constantly for the one.
I was completely sure that the One she wanted didn’t exist. She managed to break up with her passions with hell-raising, tears and fights, police and damaged property. The only guy who remained her friend after the ‘divorce’ was Dimah. He didn’t care a straw about it.
Kathe was another one in his line of blondes. He didn’t give up the old habit and stubbornly continued to drop in “Big pies” once a month. It was his own ‘full moon’...
 “Ann? Ann!” Mom shook my shoulder! “Wake up! There is the first portion of invaders!”
I jumped up and ran downstairs to greet my friends – those whom I wanted to see most of all. I ran out in the yard and got in Kathe’s hug. She didn’t keep balance on her high-heels and flopped in the dusty ground. She fluttered and sniffed until Dimah got out of the car and helped us to stand up.
“Huh, Ann! You’ve spoilt my dress!” she growled instead of the greeting. I helped her to shake off and turned to others.
Mary and Tany, Alex and Daniel, smiling Dimah, angry Kathe and an unknown guy. I cast a look at him and turned away. Another Kathe’s victim!
I embraced everyone by turns. Alex, a genuine gentleman, presented me a bunch of lillies and a chocolate box.
“Thanks, thanks, guys! How are you?” I smiled.
“Just pretend, these two skunks got married without telling us!” Dimah pointed at Dan and Mary.
Dan blushed and took Mary by her hand. Only now I noticed thin golden rims on their fingers. Dan and Mary? Well, they surely followed the example – Tany and Alex got married just after the graduation. Now they were in state of constant breaking up – raising hell was their favourite entertainment: with broken dishes, packing things and swearwords. An ordinary couple’s set.
We staked they would remain married till the end of their days.
“They even didn’t tell me!” Tany complained.
“They might have been afraid you begin to talk them out!” I explained.
“We won’t!” Mary said. “You see, Ann, we are... uhm... we have some new circs!”
I stared at her, then at Alex’s happy face and choked. This epidemy around me was hard to hold in check. It was some kind of a contagious infection – everyone around me steadied down. Well, I thought watching Kathe and Dimah, some of us will never, never in this life steady down. Is it for the better?
“How many weeks are your circs?”
Mary smiled bashfully and grasped her flat belly.
“Fifteen!” Alex said for her.
“Okay, let’s get into the house. You will have plenty to discuss with Julia!”
“Uhm, Ann, there’s some... we wanted to ... we wanted you to meet someone!”
Kathe took the uninvited guest by his hand and walked to me. I smiled to him politely and offered my hand for a greeting. He raised his black-haired head and I froze.
I could say million times that I forgot, but my memory refused to lie. The guy was unbelievably like Philip. The same bronze skin, the same raven locks behind the ear, the same thin nose... The damn orange T-shirt... But it wasn’t surely Philip.
The eyes. These had nothing the same with those beautiful eyes that I faced in sweetest dreams. These eyes of a stranger were brown, stupidly brown – like mine, without any sparkle, any luring light of seduction.
But in general, the likeness was striking. It suffocated me, wrenched my memories and filled my soul with quiver. I had to control myself, I had to restrain the horror and hope that arose in me. I couldn’t.
I hid my offered hand behind the back so that no one would see it trembling and clenched my fist. A polite smile flickered on my lips, ready to distort in a scream. The moment lingered, as everyone watched us in a dumb expectation.
Damn friends! Done an ill turn!
“Ann!” I introduced myself.
For a moment I saw something like perplexity flashed in his eyes. Then he smiled too.
“Christian! Call me Chris!” he said and touched my cheek with a light polite kiss.
“You are welcome!” I said and, considering all the formalities held, invited everyone to the house.
There was plenty of work for everyone. The girls changed cloths in my bedroom and went to the kitchen to help Mom and Julia with cooking. Kathe couldn’t realize why she was forbidden to cook with everyone. I ensured her, they would manage without her, while the guys needed her supervision.
They really did. The house was rather big and we decided to equip the dance floor in the sitting-room just in case it rained, indeed. Alex, Daniel, Dimah and Chris had to move the furniture to free the space. Dimah suggested to carry the sofas to the outhouse where I stored old things and winter munitions. Alex examined the outhouse and verdicted it would do for a sleeping section. I agreed – the problem of accomodation was solved. Kathe volunteered to keep an eye on guys so that they wouldn’t break anything.
Fuf... if she wants, please... Anyway, after the celebration I will lack many useful thing, just hope, they will leave me my fridge, my bed and my bathroom. The rest is retrievable.
While they organized the outhouse, I went to the main building to clean the sitting-room. Alex and Chris already took away my gigantic sofa and the room looked empty and uninhabited without it. I raked out sundry trash out of the old wardrobe that Julia gave to me when we separated.
It contained kiloes of needless things that were dear for my heart. I didn’t dare to throw them away and stored. The trash accumulated in the wardrobe. Everytime when I opened it to add something new in my ‘collection’, I promised myself that would certainly inspect the contents and throw everything – tomorrow.
Every time tomorrow came and the contents remained untouched. This time I decided to get rid of everything without inspection. By definition there was unlikely to be anything worthwhile.
The only thing I ceased over was Philip’s sketchbook. It was the last reminder of wounds that didn’t heal in my soul. I never told anyone that in lonely sunsets I used to run through the pages. They were dry and rustled when I turned them. The images faded, as the moisture escaped.
If I compared people pictured in the book with their actual originals I would find nothing similar – not a grain. But I felt an inexplicable melancholy about the past days, about the people we were, about the youth. We all had grown up. Now we were respectable pharmacists, economists, happy mothers and married couples...
Only Leuce wasn’t around. Her face forever imprinted on the paper. I touched it with trembling fingers and hoped she would hear my silent ‘thank you’.
My own images, stained with blood, where Andrew touched them, looked unfamiliar. This time I already knew what was wrong with them. This girl was me, save the -
“What’s it?” a rasping voice sounded behind me.
I turned and collided into someone’s knee.
“Sorry!” firm hand touched my forehead. “Are you hurt?”
Chris bent over me with a boxful of tools – the sofa didn’t get into the door and the guys wanted to demolish it and then assemble back. I sniffed – the guy smelled with wood ( like everyone who stayed in my house for more than an hour), with orange juice and whisky. I couldn’t help sneezing – the mixture was dreadful.
He noticed my grimace and explained guiltily.
“I’m just from the plane. Didn’t have time to freshen up!”
He looked so unhappy that I felt an irresistable wish to pity him. This odd feeling made me order him to lay aside the box and go upstairs – to the shower. “I’m trying to be hospitable”, I ensured myself.
Despite of his objections, I guided him to the upper floor. There were three chambers in it and two bathrooms. I rarely used the second bathroom and wasn’t sure the shower worked so I pushed him into my chamber.
Firstly I wanted to apologize for the mess. He stopped lost, in the very center of this girlish lair. I walked him by the heaps of clothes, by scattered hair pins and pushed into the chamber.
I provided him with a towel and a new toothbrush. After a short examination of his dusty clothes I made him undress – his shirt needed washing, his trousers deserved good treatment, too. He was rather shy, pulling them off, but I promised that if he didn’t hurry up, I would help him to get undressed.
Huh... I took his clothes and turned away. Naked men didn’t amuse me for so long that I already forgot how a beautiful body looked like. Accurate lines of muscles, no grain of excess flesh – Christian was a dream man. Where did Kathe get him? I didn’t doubt upon who brought him here – Kathe was an expert on breath-taking guys.
“Do you sleep with Kathe?” I asked, although the question was too vulgar, especially when I examined him so ... closely.
He suddenly grinned and I shrunk back. It was just an illusion, just a fake vision... This guy wasn’t Philip...This guy just brought painful memories to me. I turned away and searched for clean trousers and a T-shirt in my wardrobe. Dimah used to visit me often, so that there was plenty of his clothes left. There must have been something fitting this guy – taller than Dimah and not that (Dimah would get offended) fat.
“No, I don’t. Do you want me to sleep with you?” he asked.
I continued to ransack in the wardrobe. As ill luck would have it there were only orange T-shirts. I tried to recall Dimah wearing them, but didn’t succeed. Am I going mad?
“Sleep with you?” I stared at him, surprised.
I felt sick with the abundance of orange in my eyes. Black, Dimah liked black. There must have been something black. Please...
“Ann?” he reminded of his presence.
Oh, yes, orange – that’s no problem.
“You should talk about it with Kathe. She will explain to you that it’s basically impossible – to sleep with me!” I shrugged, not any insulted.
Nothing but orange. Okay, this guy will break the records on irritating me, my patience and my memory. Orange, Philip-like, mocking at my principles of solitude – he will win my pure hatred in an hour. I threw the clothes to him and wished him to have fun.
He mersemrized me with a heavy look before closing the door. I descended to the kitchen with a passionate desire to jump on Mary and Tan and demand what the hell they brought this kink. But when I saw how peacefully the women sliced the vegetables, I cooled down. Bet, on it was Kathe’s initiative.
May be, the guy wasn’t any guilty. Kathe was a succubus, she swallowed men and didn’t care. They got into the trap of her charm and couldn’t get out. She might have known what a pain she would cause by bringing him here. And if she wanted me to get animated – she failed.
It wasn’t a good present for my false birthday.
Still, I couldn’t blame her hard. The summit of friendship was to recieve people what they were.
I sighed. Sometimes it was impossible.
The slot in a pan boiled and bubbled. I mixed it and dipped to taste. The green slush resembled onion soup. As I watched mom throw appetizing bits of beef in the pan, my heart faltered and bled. Terrific waste of meat!
“That will be a kebab in onion gravy, Ann!” Mom explained.
“Splendid thing!” Juls licked her fingeres. “Special Russian recipe!”
Mary and Tany smelled the air with inspiration and set about cutting with doubled energy. I stoled an apple from the basin and hid in my pocket.
“For the supper we are having dried fish that Ann caught by herself!” my Mom boasted.
She’d better not. The small carps in a basket were more to be ashamed than proud. I pushed it under the table so that girls wouldn’t see it. But mom was already carried away.
“She fishes twice a week with Kiril, local bachelor. Portly man!”
“Mom!”
Girls laughed. I felt the blush spread over my cheeks although there was nothing to redden for. Our meetings were innocent without any romantic background.
For the first time I thought that for Kiril they might have some. The way he touched me, he smiled to me, he desired to see me... How could I be so blind?
I couldn’t help being sick from one idea that this comprehension would cost me such a friendship. I carefully avoided men that displayed any interest. And missed the interest right under my nose. I’d better remained blind than confused this way.
“He is a psychiatrist!” Mom continued to give away the details.
“Oh, that’s what our Ann needs most of all. Is he sexy?” Mary wondered.
“He is a good fisherman!” I cut short. “And, by the way. Whom have you brought along?”
Mom stopped mixing the salad and turned to me. She wasn’t still acquainted with the guy, but the intonations in my voice tensed her. There was something wrong with him – that made my voice break on the highest note, break and shiver with anger and... something undefined...
“Chris... cool fellow!” Mary said indefinitely and shrugged.
“Aha... Cool fellow... Where have you got him?” I stared at Tany, hoping she would give more information.
She wasn’t any more talkative.
“What’s with him? Ann?” Mom asked me.
“I don’t like him. I surely don’t like him. He’s disgusting. His manners, his vulgar looks. Haven’t you seen his stubble? Awful... and this look of a tired horse... ooops... I can’t stand him!” I said. “Moreover, this orange T-shirt...”
“It’s all of the T-shirt, isn’t it?” Mary guessed.
“No!” I shouted infuriated. “It’s of what he looks like. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. Or is it for what you brought him? Have you brought him because he looks like... like...?” I couldn’t squeeze the name and only impotently waved hands in the air.
“Yes... that’s a part of the deal!” Mary confessed.
I didn’t miss a confused look that her twin-sister cast.
“I hoped that all these stupid tricks with my ‘treatment’ were over years ago. I don’t need any treatment. I am not ill. I am alright. I hate all these efforts to match me. I don’t want to be matched. I like this life, lonely life! And this attempt... let it be the last one... it sucks! This candidature is million times awful and disgusting. This creature in orange can’t agitate me a little!” I hissed in the end and started to mix the slush with frantic speed – just to cool down.
I took the pan and fell on the free chair, opposite the hall.
He stood indoors, leaning on the jamb. Dimah’s trousers were short for him, but the T-shirt was just right. Clean and smoothfaced he was more of Philip than Philip himself could be. I bit my lip to hold the tears. He raised his head and we met look to look.
I offended him. He heard all the insulting words I told about him. There was only infinite sorrow in his face and humility. With this expression of a poor child he seemed so familiar. I felt how my heart pressed and faltered – I was unfair to him. He had done nothing to cause such an attitude. I just vented my own insult on him: Philip never phoned me or wrote a line. Nobody heard from him throughout this four years. Of course, he didn’t need to care. He had the celestial gift – wings and the flight in his veins.
What was I for him, but an annoying reminiscence?
Christian smiled to me bitterly, turned around and walked away.
“That was cruel of you!” Mom reproved me.
“I know! Can’t help myself remembering!” I sighed.
Mary and Tany said nothing but their faces expressed the same blame. I gave in.
“Alright. I’ll apologize! I will of course! He didn’t deserve my words!”
It was easy to say but hard to do. I found him in the outhouse but couldn’t talk. He worked hard, for two people at once. I didn’t know how to begin. When I appeared around him, Christian walked away for some excuse. I found him and he vanished away.
Finally I gave it up. I will have a chance during the celebration.
The carps were perfect. When nine of us gathered in the improvised ‘dining-room’, former verandah, the smell of fried fish with fresh vegetables knocked us down and we fell on the chairs. Tired, sweaty and sleepy, we’d made such a hard work that the view of deserved supper made us sick. Kathe was the first to ... reject. Then Dimah followed her example.
Mary, Julia and Chris fell upon the food and immediately cleaned the plates. Others, including me, stared at crunching crust of sauce with, say it mildly, prostration.
Mom rose on her seat and threatened:
“Now! Eat! No one will go out of the table until it’s done!”
We had to obey – Mom was a moster in anger.
I wanted to make beds in the chambers upstairs – thanks there were four beds and a sofa, but my classmates suggested to spend the night like in old times – on the mattresses on the floor, side by side. Everybody supported this idea, except Mom and Julia. Mom wasn’t in her age to be fond of such a ‘tough’ rest. Julia warned Mary that lying on a cold floor could affect her baby. Thus three of them disappeared upstairs.
We didn’t bother with creating something like comfortable beds. The mattresses were enough. I provided everyone with bed-sheets to cover themselves. The August night was very warm and the blankets were useless. Dimah even wanted to have an extremal night outside but I talked him out.
Gnats wanted their supper too.
It didn’t take us much time to sink in our ‘beds’. In five minutes Alex began to snore, god bless he was two bodies from me. Kathe lay on the left side, Tany on the right. Kathe was disposed to have a midnight chat, and when I asked her (politely, very politely) to shut up she turned to the left. Daniel was already sleeping.
Poor Kathe.
This thought immedaitely disappeared when Kathe turned to me again and began to talk with Tany over my shoulder. I covered my head with a pillow. It didn’t work. Kathe’s loud whisper penetrated through the fluff.
I suggested Tany to exchange places. Now there was Dimah at my right hand. He didn’t talk but kicked my legs and waved hands, as if tried to beat someone. After some unpleasant blows I grabbed my bed and crawled in the corner. There was silence and peace. I closed my eyes and relaxed.
Tomorrow will be a hard day. And the day after tomorrow. And...
The sleep didn’t come. I tossed on the mattress, with my eyes half-open and listened to Kathe’s and Tany’s muttering. Soon, they calmed down – Kathe turned on her side and began to wheeze. I smiled to the cieling.
The shadows played on it, producing strange patterns. Bright moon beam oozed through the chink in the wooden door, thin like a laser point. I wrapped my shoulders with thesheet and got out of the bed.
The silence was strikingly full of sounds. Peaceful Dimah’s snoring beat a rhythm. Embracing dearly the pillow, Daniel sang the main part. Kathe murmured male names, smiling happily to Tany. Tany grasped her hand in a gesture of support. I stepped over the bodies, holding the end of the sheet above my knees.
When I leaned over him and adjusted his loose sheet, Christian opened his eyes and stared at me. I almost drowned in them, so deep and hazel. I felt how they sucked me in and didn’t want to protest. May be, that was what I’d waited for – that someone came and snatched me out of my phony peace. That someone taunted my memories.
I didn’t know what I wanted. What did he want, then?
I hunkered near him, fixed the sheet that slipped down my naked shoulder and said:
“I... I... wanted to apologize. I didn’t want to hurt you. I surely didn’t meant what I said. It’s just my problem and I don’t want you to suffer for me!”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything!” he ensured me, rising in the bed.
I moved my glance from his chest, trying not to remember how this moon tan looked like on Philip’s skin. Memories were like revelation. My heart that stored the offense and despair for so long gave it up, gave up waiting and hoping.
This guy was so much alike with Philip. I could have a try – not to replace him, but to start everything anew. I had deserved it this time. I’d fought down Andrew, I’d fought down death. I should have tried.
I touched his lips with a kiss and they opened readily as if he wanted to taste me, too. I couldn’t distinguish what they were flavoured with, but their touch seemed so tender that my body yielded and I pressed closer to Christian. His heat scalded me with passion and I melted and flowed down. Automatically I lost the sheet and it purled down my back.
“A thing of beauty!” he whispered, amazed with what he saw.
I peered at him, suddenly back to my senses. His hand continued to caress my skin and I shrunk back, feeling nothing but disgust, most for my own madness. My lips trembled as I began to realize what I was doing.
I didn’t want him. My body was easy to decieve but not that about my mind. I didn’t want to be decieved. It was just another gross joke, not the man I loved. I didn’t want this fake reminiscence, I wanted Philip. Only Philip. Nobody else.
“I am sorry”, I whispered. “You are not any guilty!”
“Why?” he asked.
I sighed. What was I to tell? That he was the exact copy of my first and only love. That this love never wrote me a line, never called and disappeared forever. I lied to the children that the girl had never waited for his return. I had waited. For four long years I had waited and when my soul began to hope that once the miracle would happen, Christian came.
A false equivalent. It was not his fault.
“You remind me of happiness!” I smiled.
“You don’t seem too unhappy now!” he said.
“I am happy!”
I recalled how Philip used to pronounce it so that willy-nilly you believed and felt happy too. As if he shared a part of his confidence with you. I’d learnt it from him. I’d learnt to be strong and when I was in trouble I’d overcome it. Thanks, Philip.
“I’m sorry, Baby Ann! I shouldn’t have come!” he hid his eyes.
I patted his shoulder, encouraging. That was not surely his fault. Kathe and co played the same tricks with him that they played with me. I couldn’t blame either them for it – they had another idea of what was good for me. And as the time showed, they would never improve.
I cast a distant glance of snoring Alex. It had already been million of days since I’d been weak and fragile but my friends still treated me like Baby Ann. I had stopped being Baby Ann...
Times ago...
Stopped being Baby Ann.
“Christian?” I asked after some silence.
“Yes?” he wasn’t sleeping.
“Tell me the truth!” I said.
“Truth?”
“Tell me, Christian!”
“Does the truth matter?” he asked.
“It does!Tell me!”
“Ann –“
“Tell me, Christian, Philip or who else you are! Tell me the truth. The truth what it is but not what I want to hear!”
“Truth?” his smile, firstly so timid and confused, widened and shone on his face.
I looked at him and wondered how I could be so blind. Absinthe eyes. Fuf, does it matter, in the end?
“I’ve drunk it away! My demonness! I’ve drunk it away!”
“Is that truth?” I got wry.
“I love you” he said. “I left you alone, when you suffered and died. I didn’t protect you when you needed. I rejected you so many times to save your light for myself. I’ve made you cry and I’ve hurt you! I was a Beast that never deserved his Beauty. But I can’t live without you. I tried, but I can’t. You’ve given away all your gifts for me, but you still keep my soul. You still keep my heart. Moreover, you still possess another gift, the greatest in this Universe that I also ask from you”.
I winced.
“Will you give me a chance to start anew?”
And while I was going through the possible answers, solemn or vulgar, joky or sad, he mesmerized me with a long shrill glare. I kept silence.
“I’m sorry” he said and walked out the door.
I waited until his steps faded in distance and began to chuckle. What a nerd!
But I, damn, love him...


Epilogue

I stepped barefeet on the wooden floors, descended down the stairs and crossed the yard. The grass rustled under my feet and tickled my heels.
The ancient vault was dotted with stars. They flashed in the dark vastness and cascaded down like a colorful firework. Therefore the skies seemed curtanied with a flickering veil of silver threads.
In the very centre of this splendour there hung the moon. A vague crown around the source seemed maid of diamonds. It presented its tender light generously, handsful of silver dust scintillated in the dense air. It covered my bare shoulders with a thin layer. My skin shone from within, transparent and ultramandane.
I walked on the wet grass and the white sheet followed behind me like a bridal train.
He waited for me on the bank. The dark surface of the river was calm and solemn, swashing on his bare feet. He watched me as I descended down the slope. The moon light shone on his bronze face and I read everything in his eyes. All the unsaid words about love were written on his ardent lips. They promised me all the kisses that I didn’t get, all the tender nights I’d dreamt about.
He mesmerized me with unfamiliar hazel eyes. For the sparkle in these eyes I was going to give all the absinthe in the world. For the way he looked on me I was going to sell my soul.
I smiled to him triumphantly. I saved my gift for you, Philip. I was going to pay with it for your nights, for lust you gave to me. But you refused the gift, you made me keep it. I cherished it until the moment you needed. I sacrificed it not only for you, but for myself.
I walked to him – an ordinary girl to the ordinary man. My heart cured his blackness and healed his wounds. No more guilt curse on his shoulders, no more beasty grins. His raven hair fluttered in the wind. He put a disobedient lock behind the ear and stepped forward. The smile faded. His face went serious and solemn.
He offered me his hand when I stopped near him in the river. The end of my train soaked with water and flowed down with the stream. I lay my fingers in his palm and realized I had never been so sure in what I did.
“Christian?” I smiled. He pressed my hand to his chest, where his heart beat in the ribs.
“My middle name!” he shrugged.
His deep eyes drilled my bare skin through. His desire poured on me like sugar syrup. The white sheet on my bosom seemed rather useless cover.
His fingers traced invisible letters on my cheek, down to my chin, lower. I froze, when my body cried loud to yield. I’d been waiting for so long. I waved my hands around his neck and pulled his head closer. My lips quivered in expectation.
Instead, Philip pushed me away.
“I still owe it to you!”
Philip lay something invisible and imperceptible in my palm. My legs suddenly faltered. I felt totally light, as if the sense of gravitation refused to fetter me. The lump of freedom shivered in my hand. I could take it and fly away, never come back again. I cast a glance on the bangle on my left wrist. It chained me to Philip better than a bridal ring.
The lump in my hand fluttered in impatience. It was hard, almost impossible to reject the gift he returned to me. I heard the familiar calling and it poisoned my veins with indecision. It spoke sweet words of seduction. It made me feel soaring again. It lifted me up. I had only to accept it, to take it – and be free forever.
I drew my hand back and threw the lump high in the waiting skies. It exploded with millions of sparkling fragments that cast down a rainbow over the forest. The grains of freedom fell in the black waters of the river and painted it with stars. They flowed away and disappeared in distance.
 “I love you, Anne, my Beauty! Will you marry me?” he asked.
Mrs. Philip Christian Nobillar. Worth it.
I let the sheet off my shoulder. It fell in the river. Steady stream caught it and carried away. I huddled up, a little bit shy under Philip’s wide open eyes. His breath faltered as his fingers wiped off a lone tear from my cheek.
And when his hands squeezed my shoulders in a first spasm of passion, when his lips began to burn me with ardour, when he lay me on the soft grass and pressed down with his solid body, when he muttered me the words of love, through the lust that overwhelmed me, I merely nicked to cry out “I will!”