Brighton Kabbalists ×åðíîâîé âàðèàíò äëÿ ëþáèòåëåé

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Life is a moment in space,
When the dream is gone it's a lonelier place…
I’d do anything to get you into my world and hold you within
It’s a right I defend over and over again
What do I do with you eternally mine…
We may be oceans away, you feel my love, I hear what you say…
("Woman in love", 1980)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qhm9V7YBOQI

Leitmotiff. Slowly. 1971
Life is a moment in space ...

When I was a boy and told stories, they call me a dreamer. Now, they would call a writer, if I associate my manuscripts ... somewhere ... ... but where? I still do not know ... What is it? Thrust to defeat?
Publishers say somewhere there ... Publishers ... but imagining them, successful, reaching and occupied the important things ... brrr ... And here me, come from a street - "man-without-a tie" ... "Why you, mister?" ... it's something with my happiness ... and in the appendage let add horror to all State-owned buildings, their kings and queens ...
In short, I'm writing something like a diary... Thus, the most interesting bits of experience, impossible coincidences, puzzles, and other karmic disturbances decaying memory ... pity to forget and not to show no one ... … …

......Other people have what they need; I alone possess nothing. I alone drift          ......about, like someone without a home. I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty    
......I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain…

But most of all my adventures seem puzzling tangle of fate, confused by Chopin. It all started more than 30 years in a provincial university. Mark and I were in the same dorm room, and we are friends. Not even given it much importance - but in the interests of us, the 18-year-old chicks from the home nest, were very similar - classical music, Western literature, spirituality ... we even Interested in one girl ... Vera, because ... with Fs in English language.  And what could be English in Sovdepiya’s USSR '70s, when it was impossible to hear the spoken language?  However, many have been taught it by the Beatles songs, but we did not get into this circle of the elected "many."  And Vera was an excellent student in English.  Once a week, we went to her room #8, floor-to-female dorm and she "pulled" us.
So we were friends, three comrades. Even laughed on Erich Remarque - as he accurately guessed about us!  It seemed to me that the interest we have for Vera purely practical and friendly.  Vera was not the "alpha" or even "beta-gamma” la femme, obviously. She did not use those little women thongs like lipsticks, mascara, perfumes… not even have pierced ears to shine at the ball of life with pendants diamonds...  She was an average student, spoke softly, went slightly stooped posture and was not visible as a gray mouse, as if the cast of the black-and-white governess Jane Eyre from the black and white film ... But like meticulous governess keep mine and Mark English education above level of failure.

     Mark was bustling romantic, skinny, weak-looking, but really tough and stringy. His eye burned with a flame and energizes everything and everyone around him. And I was with him somehow shy goof.
Every year, Mark parted with another girlfriend and tried to market it to me and shove .... And to me it was funny and reminded an anecdote, like an old cat teaches the young to catch mice ... and more ... Fired girlfriends flew away from my shyness and disappeared somewhere...
 
Once a year, Mark parted with another victim of his charm, then tried to advertise me to her as a humanitarian transfer, so that smart female tears did not finally melt his good heart, so generously giving love around, like God Krishna to thousands of cowgirls in Hindustan.  What is the power of persuasion it would be necessary for it to have to "reprogram" the brain is applied, seduced and rejected by girls!  But this transfer jarred me and I was afraid that I would be extreme "with a mountain on my shoulders", which would be to no one and nowhere to drop.  Mark's ex-girlfriends flew away from my shyness and fear and disappeared.  I once asked what persuasive power he exerted on the girls.  He replied that he would say nothing, but: "you will bow to me."  I grinned inwardly: I knew I was not be hypnotized.  Five minutes passed, and I was reading a book.
There was a feeling that Mark is such a good friend, cheerful, kind, sweet-hearted, native to my life I have not met before!  To my horror, I realized that I wanted to fall to my knees in front of him.  Well, that was realized!  Mark was reading, too, and looked at me with a kind of mischief.  I got up slowly and left the room in silence. The power of silent suggestion was gone. I ran out into the courtyard to the football field, fenced with an iron net, and watched the students play there. Mark also went out, wanted to go into the game, but at the entrance firmly put his forehead on the low irobar above the entrance. He stood for a while in a groggy state, blinking hard...  The net shivered, and so did I, inwardly!  A thought like a flash: "you can't play with the Power!  The action will be counteracted." Pure mechanics!   I never asked for anything "super" again. For a week, looking at the bump on Mark's forehead, the boys joked: "Unicorn."
   
     Suddenly there was Chopin. He came among the familiar and have not been noticing the rustling cacophony night, Beatles, pop ephemera and other musical noise ... Yes, Mark and I heard Chopin ... What surprised me once that it was not a record. The sounds came from the "Lenin room" (similar to meeting room), which was almost always key closed… and there was a tool ... a piano!  Looked at each other as partisans before burning down German barn, we quietly went to the door. Mark opened slowly and went.  I looked in the door gap and saw the pianist and i was petrified.  Vera... but she is not the old Vera, our faithful companion, not a gray mouse, but ... Priestess? Her face lit up, her hands worked magic on the altar of the 88 keys, and through it, and Chopin, sounded completely different music!  And the one that we have heard by ears – dissolved.

     30 years later, I realized that her technique was very mediocre, oh, how far from Horvitz ... But there was something else, something that is called ... impression ... wings, converting 12 points on 5 lines into elusive shadow in the sky ... into weaving cloth and beads vibration ineffable spiritualism (that I felt many years later in the play of Horvitz, singing Jacob Stark, Andrea Bocelli, early Charlotte Church) ... into emptiness of “Oh” and “Oy” with no meaning to someone and all kinds of meaning to others….

      And then they cannot be forgotten for a lifetime ... and sometimes they hard to remember ... try to catch ... and they're not ... and sometimes ... Suddenly ... someone, somewhere, will send them to you, as a "token", from there, as shadow of miracle ... Sign ... somewhere they appear again ... and joy! Other world joy again in your hands, as a wonderful treasure ... Catch it! Remember! ... Hide! And it is not caught ... a dream is not remembered ... and cranes fly away...

        I remained at the door, and Mark, my poor friend, who easily lit fire with his eyes on everything, was in even greater fire, burned down himself there...
Vera regularly and secretly studied music, and somehow she got the key from bosses to the dorm meeting-room ... She playing for herself almost every day after lectures. And on that fateful day she had not closed the door, the door opened and we heard her secret.  For me it was something terrible to hear and see more if her play. I went to listen to only a few times, peeping into the gap, which Mark l amicably left to me... and green light he opened for himself ... at the Other World ... he was enthusiast, has always been more daring ... But he came out and we zonked endlessly discussing the essence of music, the essence of its influence… There were a local philharmonic concerts ... but the plays was as naked note, letter, without the Spirit ... cymbal rattle...

Later I became ill, dropped out study and returned to the City of Childhood. The fire, which began to glow with pleasure to Mark and Vera scares me ... I am under the sign of Pisces, loved the water ... fluidity ... transparency ... I ran away from them and did not leave an address ... Besides, good Mark could in kindness, in an evil hour, may start to float Vera to me... We, the three comrades were lost...
*
......Nothing is sure for me but what’s uncertain: Obscure, whatever is plainly   clear to see: I’ve no doubt, except of everything certain: Science is what happens accidentally
.....Stop thinking, and end your problems.
.....What difference between yes and no?
.....What difference between success and failure?
.....Must you value what others value? Avoid what others avoid?
*
2. Meeting. Development. Alive. The pace is different. 1986 Thursday - Monday. (The second theme. Changing tone)
......When the dream is gone it's a lonelier place...
*
      When i returned, as they said, "looking for myself." 12 years.  Father, mother and sister made exodus from USSR before the 1980, when our  secretary-pharaoh Leon-hero shut out exit form country. Jews spoke in whispers about it - "he closed the window."  I remained, entangled in the exit papers. Feeling myself a stranger here, waiting for the outcome of the next "release of slaves."  Eventually, after working as a loader, someday I spoiled heart unloaded 9 trucks ... then I found a great job as a synagogue guard. I was lucky!  It might be a different story, Kiev synagogue of 85th, gorbachev’ perestroika, 7th Pharaoh Dynasty of "secretaries", the second red thaw, turning into a flood…

       Once, as a watchman on duty, I sat and read something... Then creaking of the red iron gate... She went into the synagogue yard ... She was a round-shouldered, like that of an elderly woman... Her gray hair and knobble of student girl from the 19th century... but there was something familiar about flashes of light and shadow on his face... Vera!

       12 years have passed, like a dream, and now - she shyly came! And in the same low voice, which was earlier in our gatherings of the English, she asks:
"Tell me ... Who could help me? I need advice"...
I was speechless - she did not recognize me! After all, she said: "Tell me!"
Through these 12 years I had already beard and shoulder-length hair... I decided not to open to her... A little more than a hoarse and with deep voice I began to question what it was. It turned out that she and Mark were married at the end of study and distributed near my town. 6 years ago, Mark' Jewish family flee USSR before the "closing out", but the Russian Vera' family would not let her to leave. They then quickly divorced and Mark left, leaving her alone with the baby.  They love each other. Waiting new output, outcome, exodus, Let-May-People-go.
*
We may be oceans away, you feel my love, and I hear what you say ... Give evil nothing to oppose and it will disappear by itself…
*
"I was so nervous for sure that was the ache often", - she said.  And this Chernobyl, Pripyat yet... accident, nuclear power plant ... radiation ... And then came the tests - I got cancer ... and today ... you know ... I so vividly dreamed a strange dream ... Three old Jews, in the strange big white bedspreads ... with tassels ... hid ... they put on
head ... smile ... and held out their hand ... so strange ... hands ... a relation ... as if I was a kid ... and they ... as my grandfathers that I ... ... And I do not know what to do? What does this mean? This is due to me? With Mark? With the disease? What?

       Vera stopped, put her face in her hands and wailed softly, softly, and strange as howling women in grief ... I stood there, as if for the first time, before Lenin's room, in front of her Chopin, numb, with eyes full of... All that occurred to me, it's about the health pray as here it was called by old men - "Moshe Berech." And then I had the nerve to cheat a little bit ... i gave her a paper and asked to write a full name and middle name. Then we went into the synagogue and asked for pray "Moshe Berech" There, sitting on the records, the oldest synagogue man - think his name was Boruch, I do not remember exactly. He wrote and asked the name of Vera mother, and began demanding something to look at Vera,
- Something has to be paid ... - I whispered.
- How much?
- I do not know, Do as you can....

        Vera, not looking, took out from her bag blue 25 - big money on those times - I so much may earning as a loader over a week. Moshe fastly hid 25 in his pocket. I shuddered, shocked ... Really he took away for yourself? Although what I expected? That this 25 will fly up to the Throne of the Most High?  Some bad, dark thoughts flew from me to the old man... (Shame!  Later I learned that dozen of old men gathered money for proper burial for themselves ...)

       I wanted to see Vera once more. Wanted to hear the magic her hands once more. It seemed that that Chopin, who died a century and half ago, at the moment manifested in our dorm there, years ago and now the sad, aging, sick person .. . Chopin ... Maybe he really was ... he was ... an angel? The sick, the fallen, and some punished angel, weak and alien, other, monks, Orpheus lives in piano strings ... angel and the messenger of, who was exiled by 39 years in the 19th, with nostalgia for the forgotten Skyward, City in Heaven ... the forgotten ... And it seemed that he is the nostalgia for Poland, Warsaw...  And anyone who saw it - fell into to be a prisoner of his magic! Yes! Of course! It was a heavenly love spell of celestial music!  That the only way that Georges Sand, Lady Sterling and other of Countess and Princess could fall into this his trap!
I said:
- Here will pray for the health of all who ask for it ... Saturday morning ... I did not know whether to say “mosh Berech" is on Saturday or will be anyday.  I have not even seen or heard of this prayer. When the old men did not have 10 men, they called me - I sat in a corner, and not knowing a word that they pray, read something in the Psalms in Russian trans.
"Come at 9-30 in the morning" - I said - "it's ... will affect more ... this is not my day shift, but I will come ... take you ... I also pray for you" ...
I do not know how I lived until Saturday - I did not sleep for almost 2 days, and on Saturday almost overslept. During this time, I got the Vera full name, got her address through inquiries info, but was afraid to even come close to the house. On Saturday, she was standing in front of the synagogue, holding a handkerchief over nose and pretended that it was cold. Holding the hand of a girl, about 5 years.
- Meet. Here is the Gita.
- Gee... that?
"Yes, a strange name? Mark it so wished, as long as I was in the hospital - he ran down to the registry office and set me before the fact ... I was terribly angry that I did not even asked by, and now all seems ridiculous.  The unique name? Indian perhaps"?
- Vera, why do you keep a handkerchief from the person?
-Oh! I forgot! Just without you I'm scared of my bulbous nose to go there ... An old man may kicked me out ... there is one ... Uh, he is strictly ... so he had his stick and a little dog here ... suddenly, and I was so ... with his stick? .. For my non-Jew nose? ... You ... take me there?  I do not know what to do inside, and I'm scared" ...
We entered. Old men gathered again just nine and they were glad that I came to be the tenth, though such as me ... I led Vera to the female partition ...
- Sit here. Old people are praying here for an hour. Here you can now read the Torah ... Pentateuch ... in Russian.
- And pray? Remember ... that ... Moshe Berech?
- Pray for your own words. Maybe ... probably ... There, He… will not value for the words, but how they would sound ...
 
I also sat down in my favorite far corner, took out from a nest on the top shelf, where only i may reach with my height, only the book I can read here - translation of the Psalms. Looked at Vera. She leaned her head on her book. Light from the window sprayed on her hand… it slowly slowly moved…

…Words ... "On Strings" ... In the brain, its broke again from Lenin room, from 12 years… piano crying and flying strings ... And in my imagination the Dirac sea… - through Vera face… here an another person ... Chopin? ... Or Angel? ... recalling helplessly ... Sing Song of the Spirit ... Ballerina Spesivtseva ... in Chopin's dancing ... can have it all ... from Poland? ... Or ...
I began to read more ...

...... From the depths have I cried ... many rise up against me ... many say - there is no salvation for my soul ... But You - my Shield ... "

     At this hour, I felt that such a prayer is the prayer… The hour passed. We silently walked out.
- May I walked you to home, Vera? – I asked.
- No ... better not to ... tomorrow the final inspection and analysis ... designate an operation ... I felt so good ... I need to be alone ... I am no longer scared ... peacefully ...my mother will take daughter in the evening to yourself ... while I ...
- Mother?
- Yes, her name is ... Raisa ... Here ... She pick granddaughter for Ardamashku until the wind from an accident here yet ... once again...
- May I know what the doctors will decide tomorrow?.. I would walk you in the hospital. Monday I just work here day ... from 8 am to 8 ... here synagogue's phone # ... ... Call me?
- "Yes ... of course! You helped me so.... oh! ... I do not even know your name"?

Here I was taken aback ... I did not think she may ask ... in fact she could ask before ... real name cannot be find out ... I remembered that my father said he wanted me to be named after his father - Aizek. But it was the 53rd, Stalin just died and father was still afraid. Thus, according to the first letter he named me. Alik.
"I am Aizek".
Vera grinned.
"Too weird name? Again India, too? Ha! The Indians ... some Indians around me"...

We parted, and on Monday, I sat in the hut in the courtyard of the synagogue and waiting for morning call. And there was a call. In 8.5. Slow old voice through tears ...
- "This is for you ... Rukhl calling"
My heart sank. Raisa - this is perhaps Rukhl? By the first letter or whatever we have? ... Vera's mother?  But her mother - clearly Russian, there Jew spirit did not even smell!  Her nose just does not like Vera' potatoe, but I will not say what it's like, obviously far from kosher ... She came to visit Vera once in a dormitory - I saw her passing.
With horror that awaited i ask.

"Rukhl? Who are you"?!
- I am Boruch wife. He works for there until Friday. No more of him. On Saturday, he died. Pass out ... who needs ... to know ... Know ...

God is Gracious and Merciful! Avinu Malkeinu! I mentally sent... something to Boruch… my bad thoughts! .... Because of that accident… 25 blue cancer rubles!  Out of the depths I cry to you, Boruch - forgive me ...  I was fool... Shame! I remembered how he almost every day dragging his swollen leg came and sat here, writing down prayers to biblical Moses, to our nation father, collected donations in a little tin box with a chip little padlock...   May God make pleasant dwelling for your soul… You - the true man from the people, who live alone, and I - I, who am I? Sick assimilant? ... Renegade? ...  slice cut? ... Yellow leaf? ... A voice crying in the wilderness, from the depths: "... hear me and correct my steps ... "? One who not dock to own tribe and run from strangers!
*
......I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain,
......Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth: In my own land, I’m in a far domain: Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief… …
......Other people are excited, as though they were at a parade. I alone don't care;
......I alone am expressionless, like an infant before it can smile.
*

3. 1986 Monday-Tuesday. Development. Gradually louder.
I'd do anything to get you into my world...
*
        I almost forgot about Vera and looked on our old men going to prayer. On weekdays, it is rarely managed to score 10. Even on Saturday - not always ... looked at each of them, trying to remember them, for tomorrow - some may not have come as Baruch did not... Loss! Loss!

On this day Vera did not called. On Tuesday with gloomy thoughts I came out from the synagogue gate.

There she is with a bouquet of carnations stunted. Smiling from ear to ear. Ran over and hugged me tightly. Hot deafening whisper in my ear.

- Aizek ... can you to image? ...  This is a miracle! Analyses - zero! Operations will not be! All gone! Cancer was gone! Gone! Not! Doctors ran all in shock! Let's go! I'm happy! Once again, I was born! I'm going crazy! Take me! I'll make you a present! For you! Only! No one ever!

Ashamed to say that I thought ... well, you know ... what a gift can make a happy woman to a stranger as I am in my prime of life ... rather chubby ... above average height, though not broad... Reluctantly trudged, happy to her happiness... with fear and dread thinking about how to reject her "gift" without offending lucky her.  Harm to Mark I was not going to do at all!  I was a quirk do not touch other people's wives, not even with thought.  With my Jewish Luck and already all broken karma… all I need is a second of poison’s joy and a long bloody payment later…

We quickly reached, up to the 2nd floor. Vera, still, poured about her miracle ... living room ... and ... IT stands at the center!  Lord of the room!  Old black scratched grand piano on 2 legs, and instead of the third - a box and bricks. Cover is open, the notes on the stand.

-Aizek, are you hungry after a change? Tea? Coffee? All done! Sit down here, in front of the piano - on this chair. Take tea and listen! Oh, I forgot to ask! Do you love the classics?  Chopin, for example?

“My tongue stuck to the roof of throat ..."

- Sorry Vera, tea is goot ... Y-yes ... Chopin ... yes ... what about ... it is  ... yes ... it ... Here ... Chopin ... hmm ... yeah ... most ... like…

- "I knew it!  Knew it!  You have the same eyes as my prince!  He's gone, he's gone, my black-eyed prince ... I almost stopped playing ... he loved it so much ... oh he loves ... Chopin and Bach ... but.... you know ... you know ...
Each person should have his own island, where there is no entrance to anyone!  Do you understand? I think I have gone for joy?  Yes!  Here we go!  And did not get there!  But ... yes ... No entrance…. Well may be except for a few and G-d.... yes ... G-d ... we remember him there ... praying ... on your ... no ... ours! "Moses Berech" ... And He gave a miracle! So He is! Somewhere ... someone told me a long time ... "The Jews are asked to sign, and the Greeks of wisdom ..." they say, the Jews such-and-so ... wonder they have to see ... otherwise from the place will not leave ... miracle ... yes ... and maybe you cannot go anywhere without a miracle, and even that not worth to go? ... We are … Jews…  A sign made to me … be a Jewess… I died of cancer on Friday, Russian girl died in fear and terror of Israel, with its curse from all our newspapers and TV on Zionism, to take away my husband ... although ... Visa Office is separated us ... yes ... and Was I born on the Saturday Jewess?  Now I'm the one with his blood - he and I, I and he ... you know? I already filled my part of life fears ... at age 32, to leave life, and go so bad - who does want?  I did not ask for health and all, I asked for a bit of peace, peace of mind and the strange clues three old men gave me.... Yes! I came only for a clue, me, a barbarian curious.... and then began to ask the quiet, peaceful demise of my life ... and He, He ... like this, just in passing, waved a miracle and ... I raised up... a sign ... yes, yes! Raised a Jewess! That's it! That's what these old men like to say me! I get it! They were like fathers to me!.. They worked that night and gave birth! I get it! They are blessed me! How wonderful!

Ha! You should have seen these doctors attacked me that would be "to describe for science of this unique event!"  For science to describe the miracle! Hear! A miracle! And laugh or cry! I was even in a little joy that they did not knew about our synagogue!"

Vera clung to the piano sideways and bent to me some enthusiastic flushed face. Her eyes sparkled and shone. A smile broke out and died and arose again, to immediately hide as sea waves.  An educated gentleman – all remained as in a movie, must just a little rise and kiss?.. Is not?  And I thought with horror that she was waiting for it - and did not know how to avoid ... oh ... it seems our "Beautiful Joseph" gets to "Potiphar' wife" and thinking how to escape, so she had no time to grab a "flap of his clothes" for ... Doomsday ... But this was also the moment of our closest relationship ... Thoughts flew... Again, remember the "out of the depths I cry ... on the strings ... "  I looked at the open piano and on the wall, in a frame, photo.  Mark, Vera and the baby in the middle. Stuttering, I said:
- Vera, you ... what about Chopin?

- Oh! I am fool! I want to play improvisations on themes of Chopin. I have not them to anyone ... never ... it - my secret.... my island!
- Never?
- Oh, you know, Mark, I once played a few times, 10 years ago, when we decide to be together ... But he did not get it!
He thought that it was a real Chopin! That's what I'm sly forger! Funny, is not?
Something was swimming and dizzy ... I began now to understand where there was a dorm for the first time - the chopinish magic came! G-d is? – Is that His miracle from above ... is ... nightingale poured ... And spirit there, then? Spirit, a part of Chopin - here, in Vera, waits in the wings?  Well, maybe not a reincarnation, but the particle ... sparks of it?
- Vera ... will you play… what?
- Oh! Well, yes!  What can I do here and took you here! I made a present to you, digging in the drafts ... and ... you think? Ha ... and do not think! I am a married woman and I will never leave him!  But give the word! Nothing to none, yes! About my impromptu! Even to Mark! I own it someday...
I nodded and added:
- Can you also give ... not a word about the "moshe-Berech", your miracle and a synagogue? ...

- Hooray! Word-for-word! Sweeps out! Your mystery and the mystery of ours! Aha!
She sat down at the piano. Priestess and Altar. Red cheeks. Eyes shine and run already on the keys. Hands begin to live their lives. Fingers seem leaves on two branches in the gusts of the storm and stress ... Her changing…. again from a gray mouse, the governess Jane…, Janus, Yin-Yang, Ish-Isha, Vera-Chopin.  And from the first measure ... drop in the painfully attractive gulf of Heaven and Hell ... The more I drink this punch of melodies, the more thirsty...
Wrinkles appeared on Vera forehead, eyebrows lifted, hair falling on shoulders - and now - different! ...  ... Messenger ... Chopin ... what I've seen in the illustrations of his portraits! Her potato-like nose seemed longer ... and hooked ... lips and chin slightly elongated and swollen ...  a sloping forehead and more ... even thought Adam's apple in the neck!  (Much later, after 10 - 15 years old, I saw the same video recordings of the Transfiguration with much more technical maestro Horvitz!  But Horvitz did not compose ...)
*
......Opening your heart, you become accepted.
......Accepting the World than embrace Music Master… 
......Bearing than creating… creating than not owning… own without controlling … control without authority.
......Than those Love and Music will came…..
......Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone….
*

4. 1986 Tuesday.  Estrangement and sharp. 1986
I hear...
*
      I asked to repeat some very impressive parts. Lower bit rate. Develop some themes on ... knew nothing about music theory, but I felt, where you can edit, add ... Yes… It is added and laid like diamonds in a setting ... She laughed and called me a baby in music theory, but then - "... indulge your whims, because today is your day!"  In the end, we were so tired that I began to hear the inner ear and change the music inside my head and somehow passed with clumsy language - and it is as she reading my thoughts, and tried a guide.
Then, quite happy, we drinking tea without an account...

By evening, I am overflowing with tea and Chopin. We thank each other a long time... Glancing at the door and realize that this day in our lives will never happen again ... but, as they say, "will carry it with you."  Yes, we should no longer see ... Never ... At that, the other world, the world of divine musicians, elected ones may enter ... No crowds, no group, not even together ... Alone ... Well maybe more… the husband and wife, Orpheus and Eurydice.  One flesh, giving birth to a special child named Higher Music… Music of the Spheres, Pythagoras Numbers... Socrates Eidoses... I waited for her to say something like that ... Guessing ... She stammered, almost apologetically… palm stretched...
- Aizek ... you know, I opened ... all ... It is shameful than to undress ... and ... I cannot see you again ... I would be afraid and ashamed ... You know that even my husband does not know and can only guess maybe ... Let's now part? Maybe one day after many years, my husband knows all this, and we can all meet ... You, too, expect that we will allow exiting this land?  I promise - you will then be our most… our best friend ... the most ... to me and him ... after...

I went to the door. Looked on the other gap between worlds, as 12 years ago, in Lenin’ room.  I wanted to cry to Vera, it's me, Alex! But turned around and saw again portrait over the piano - Mark Vera, Gita.
- Yes ... of course ... I did mean it. But what about your play? The manuscripts will be burned? No one can see them? I think that those of your three pieces that we have changed ... - Just brilliant. The others - also masterpieces, much better 90% of classic pop, we are stuffed on the radio ... and that only discourages interest in the classics. I'm just hurt by the fact that it will be gone with you ... and manuscripts will be burned ... Bulgakov makes a mistake here with you ...

She smiled and looked up at me - but I found quite the opposite - from the top down.
- Just Chopin himself, and bequeathed to burn his manuscripts and drafts ... And they did not burn ... Heirs could not ... raised hands.... He liked to play to friends, family, sister ... Louis. Rarely gave concerts – so…just for living… as they say. Maybe the real music - it's a family matter?  Maybe music for sale - it - ha!  As the Bolsheviks said - also “bourgeoisie girl for sale"? ...

Imagine that! - Packed with hundreds of people, packed like sardines… for touch the Spirit, Heavenly Kingdom...  Shrine.... and they coughing, turning over in their chairs close, whisper to each other ... stink hundreds of perfumes… what more paris-ish… and that's at best! ... Rustle tights, shoes squeak, knock pins… judgment and gossip who looks like.... as ...  in the public bath nightmarish horror! ... Where it is necessary to strip, not body but soul ... Shame! Loss! Loss of shame! That's where it starts to serve Baal!  No, I understand, live music - it's not a record, and one can dive with hundreds in the public sewer to hear live play… say, Horvitz - without microphones!  But have respect, dignity, to each other in this cesspool of a thousandth! ...!... Dignity?  The crowd at the other end, all of these geeks like Feltsman in evening dress, who cannot for the life write two lines, embraced machine-gun technique! The main thing - the rate on the verge of fiction… Appassionato tap 2 times faster than it was ... it is now ... probably in 100 years will have been 3 times ... public ecstasy ... as group sex on the spot ... Musicians also dripping with brook ... poor but happy Sisyphus ...... honorable audience, watching ... too tired… everyone happy ... classics dose received ... Communion ... ... You know, my daughter… 5 years… is not bad - and most importantly - has an interests and ambition. Not the ones that her mother ... so I think ... I hope ... These manuscripts will be who to hand ... however, as I once...
The meaning of the last sentence, I realized 20 years later, when he saw the accident Mark, already here in America...

- But Vera, do you not showed the manuscript, even to specialists?
-  Are you serious? First, it is not well written - it is not, fashionable, is not original, and hundreds of other "not"! Maybe someone is trying to improvise ... say Bach - but other than Glenn Gould - its pathetic mechanical attempts without the Spirit of the First Masters! Something does Tariverdiyev, our "Aesop" in music ... how many "deaf to the classics" start to hear classics after "12 Spring Moments"! ... Although Liszt was also an improviser… he has more ... unique master ... on different topics ... but it was a long time ago ... Experts? Here Shnitke… experimento… virtuoso ... super… - yes ... the specialists understand that... although there is nothing to understand, - mechanics and arithmetic ... Well, for the people, folk, here, "here" is Roula-terula and "nightingales" - eat and fingers up!  And for the "chosen intelligentsia"  such shrewdness, a reading between the lines - harlequins and fair kolyorovy ... and "there" ... in West ...  ... - Ye-ye ... and com-mon-th ... three notes ... to be able to stomp on the three steps ... and stomp ... on wide road crowd stomp… fellows, let moo! ... It’s important – to moo but not butt our red and white new gate! ... No, Chopin died in each generation…. You know, I think that a talent is loved only once in the grave, otherwise G-d forbid he come to life one more ... yes ... and then ... while the heirs die, that they would not chirping… they can say that “that our music”! ... So ... sad? ... ... maybe ... that way it should?  Bach remembered in 200 years - by chance, Mozart - a little earlier ... Weak flowers killed by thorns and grass, and the most visible and prominent strong and beautiful! But is it necessarily for weak flower, impatiens, this struggle, a place under the sun? ... Maybe he did not have to drag it up to fail, but rather move away from everyone and find your invisible island in the ocean where there is no way to anyone? ... Yes ... Island in the Ocean! ...
I think that Chopin was lucky that he had the opportunity for the first concerto... I myself think that at one of the famous "Chopin" there are dozens, if not hundreds of anonymous, and no less talented and original, which one can seem that they are not so lucky ... may be that should be? ... Maybe ... they ... these unknowns are a need to spring off to the one, "known one"?... And he ... Known ... Master ... He then gives the strength to rise again, to hundreds of new unknown ... as a beacon ... the lost ships, they will point out to the island in the ocean ... ... and in general all of our so-called true, fragile culture - this is probably an unknown archipelago? ... And that is its strength? ... There, not in gregarious and concert pop! Yes! But of course! In fact, my gold 19th century.... in Russia, in Europe, were hundreds of family houses ... salons ... was ... were groups ... brothers and sisters of the art spirit ... new aristocracy of art ... Dukes and the priests of music ... priests and kings of poetry ... Princes of sculpture and painting ... graphs of prose ... and there was no crowd ... where?  Where are they all?  Who mow them?  Who do need them now? ...
Oh! Yes, that's me! Do not think that I'm ... Sho ... He ... my ideal become close ... No! I just do - no one there ... so ... just a listener, and the occasional chirping myself from afar ... from a blank gallery... for myself and no one hear...

I left her. Somewhere in headlines appeared "...So sweet at a time of clear warm days chirping of birds from a distance, but it is stronger and torments me love from afar ...
*
.....I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain, Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth…
*
… ....In sound the only motion and silence are returning; the only useful quality, weakness.
......For though all creatures under heaven are the products of Music, Being itself is the product of Not-being…
*

5 - Second meeting.
Quietly. Transition tonalities. 1986 - 1987
I hear what you say...
*
Tomorrow and other tomorrow. Piling works. My old, almost 90 year old house on Podol, near the synagogue was demolished. Neighbors received orders to distant new area on the other bank of the Dnieper - Troyeschina.  Someone went out quickly, someone pulled, waiting for something to be desired.  I had to come to the "state house".   Asked what is now available. King-of-clubs offered a "non-prestigious" 1st floor, in a house-anthill.  And the King-of-clubs hid his eyes and said nothing.  He was waiting for something from me, I suppose. Feeding. Position he has clearly was bread.
- Good. Let's order, - I said surprised the King.
Coming out, I thought it was a sign! Vera would not keep her word… She will come to the synagogue for me, to “an appreciative audience."  And then the sign – the house in Troyeshchyna here… It needs to get the tram, metro and then walk a good mile. Torment. While I will go to work. The horror!  And yet - it is necessary to escape from all this poisonous chopin-ishment until we died from its consumption!  I'm not made of stone, and Mark has always been a friend to me, even though we lost ... Vera - it’s a married woman ... while alone for years….

Next day I left the job in the synagogue with a heavy heart.   In all my wanderings looking for job - this has been the most successful for me ... But I had already psalms rewritten by hand in a notebook. All of them. 150.
Several times in the summer, when people open the windows to let cool of the evening, as an addict, I made my way under the window of the apartment ...her house… Rajewski Street, Building 28, Apartment, naturally, again 8 ... hiding under the wall, depicting a drunk, sticking out neck of an empty bottle ... With this disguise random people did not pay attention to me… pity drunk - as usual picture here ... and I ... I eagerly dug into barely audible sound of her piano, her preludes, variations, sweetest poison chopin-ishment ...

A year later - finally! - Happy January 1987! Our last Secretary-Pharaoh, Misha Bald, finally "learned of Joseph" and let my people go!  I started my running around on this terrible State-owned houses, filled with their King-of-clubs and Queens, to gather on three papers from each "former jobs for the last 5 years"… from all the "captains and chiefs of the Red Pyramid" ... where I told… "To collected bricks without straw" ... A accumulated about 24 signatures "of the Party Committee and the head of the trade union committee and head of bussiness".  Knocking on their fancy doors I whispered to myself - "... from the depths I call to you ..." and in fear and trembling dove in their study, as into the icy water...

- Here ... sign the certificate ... please ... yes ... to leave ... abroad ... that you have no complaints ...
- Who? How? Jew? We had a Jew worked as loader? How is it?
- Yes, something like that ... sorry ... I will no longer ...
As a half-forgotten dream… in jam clogged OVIR I had to stand a few times ... and it was about to turn a half-day, to do lists ... early birds, the first slaves of the empire of her latest release ...
One day I saw there, Vera with Gita. The girl was bored, she was talking loudly, and then seeing that on such a beautiful princess (in knitted sweaters darned old tired and red sandals that soon, certainly within 12 hours, will be crystal shoes), adults do not pay attention, she went to the center of a stuffy room full of old people who breathing hard with sticks…. and thick ladies with homemade fans of newspapers ... She looked around, then turned to Vera and was resoundingly sound a nursery rhymes! Everyone smiled.
- Oh, aganse-punym ... What a clever Jew-dyshe Kinderlah - whispering ladies ...
- Yo-yo - in the affirmative resolution old men added...

(In 20 years Jew-dyshe Kinderlah will make an orthodox convert to Judaism in Israel)
And then a little princess of Vyatka province went into a dance… and in the recitation ... This lasted a good hour. I hid behind… Vera did not see me...

On the last Sunday before their exodus, I came for the last time under the Vera’ windows. Sitting with an empty fake bottle and kept down face in his hands.  The music was not.  Heard some megaphone outside.  Looked around the corner. Three porters dragged her black grand piano ... and it seemed endure dead ... In the truck it hit the board.  Plaintively rattled last string… that all ... the end ... the music was over... nevermore… you have to go ... Goodbye Kiev!  And when I get back? ... Mileage without touching the white snow? ... And your eyes like bird look… back ... ?...
*
….....The Valley Spirit never dies… It is named the Mysterious Female…
......And the doorway of the Mysterious Female…Is the base from which Heaven and Earth sprang…
......It is there within us all the while;
......Draw upon it as you will, it never runs dry…
......I win it all, yet a loser I’m bound to be… Saying: ‘G-d gives you good even!’ at dawn, I greatly fear I’m falling, when lying down…
......I’ve plenty, yet I’ve not one possession…
......Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone…

*
6. 3rd meeting. Alive. Interlude and new theme. Strengthening contra-point 1987 - 1999
What do I do with you eternally mine..
*
A year before the 2nd Soviet Exodus… On Kiev fell an Egyptian plague - Radiation, Star Wormwood. I heard it on the same day, according to Voice of America…Then later - other executions - the collapse of the empire, the devaluation, the new Caucasian war, glamor and misery of wild capitalism... Reformation, Counter-Reformation ... Reaction and Fronda ... The fact that in Europe continues as the tragedy for 200 years - become a farce in Russia for the 20 ... and carried on ... where does you leap, Russian troika? ...

At customs in Chop, the last stop from my Egypt ... was a crush. Jews do not have the cattle were driven, not borrowed gold vessels from the neighbors that would come with wealth, not bake bread without yeast ... not slaughtered lambs. (I hope it still will be. Only it will not lambs but wolves that future time). Days sleeping on suitcases with junk, until their turn came up for review.

I was only with a bag over shoulder… passed without waiting - People clapped and waved to me as to a pop lucky. Custom woman required to disassemble my pocket radio.
- Why?
- Something you have it hard ... maybe you're hid the gold?
- Yes? ... Pity… I would not have a good idea! Take it, I give up the gold!

This time, it is clear we are not "ripped off" the Egyptians, but they do us!  Laugh or cry? ...
10 days in Rome, 2 months near Rome, in a small ridiculous town Ladispoli on the beach ... My father came from Israel for a week ... meeting ... as Joseph with Jacob ... after all these years… 18? 22?... thought we would never see each other again ... "And they cried on the necks of one another ...” Plane ... charter flight ... A reason to fly the 9th of Av?  The Day of Tribulation…   I mean is that it is prepared some "American Tragedy"? ... Come ready ... I slept at the airport ... beautiful name - Da Vinci ... Yes ... Second flight ... Brooklyn ... Mother. That met after her after 10 years ... Rachel, do not cry about your son ... I was lost and is found...

After a few months - a huge demonstration "Let my people go."  Strangely, almost a year empire let us go... if a year or two before shouting ... though ... as I humbly collect certificates and soared into the nightmarish place... brr ... those State houses with their Kings… Nobody chooses to purgatory ... maybe they had a point to shout from Washington to Moscow bullies to quick exodus ... do less humiliation…

The search for a job...  again… the-man-from-street - again the loader…  In synagogues there is no reason to have guards....  ... but in rich apartment building ...  watchman…  That's where the music is good to listen to!  "... from the depths have I cried ... “ $260 a week. Enough. There are books and music. What else do the guard, if he does not really know what to do? ... Head in the clouds...

I saw him out of my booth in the pale light of the street lamps. Some pathetic "drunken beast" went, limping and singing ...
- In wine veritas? Her waist it is not caught by anyone ... was the waist, and it came out ... And who has everything under control? At Trump! Grabbed the ... street. Pharmacy and street lights ...
Silhouette  leaned on post and howled.
- Wa-ay-y .... I'm a wolf, I prairie wolf! Enough is enough! I've played enough of beads! I'm mad! Get out of here alive! My whip lashing universe! They are! Weep! But I will laugh! I! Jonathan Seagull is not ... not gray, and were gonna, uh ... sol, do ... re ... mi ... You do not come running to the Brighton Beach to see a lonely red sails!  And here I am!  Do not shout! I am left…escape from Leonid, and from Michael, and from Vera, but from my own round loaf will soon take and go! ... Wa-ay-y .... Moon! Where there Lissajous figure? Take me to the Lenin’ room! Back to the USSR! Take me back to Lenin room!

I froze in horror - it was in a drunken Mark - Mark, I got to know only our secret password - "Lenin's room."… I approached.
- Mark, what is it?
- Is that you, Alex? Many-winters-many-summers!  Where have you gone from the university, the simulant?  We looking for you and you're like water from finger ends  ...
- Mark, where do you live? I'll take you back!
- I do not live! Life is over! Missing piano, the candles extinguished! I walked away from her! Gone! C-separable  ... Soledad amigo! ... She had…. That… - mucha travaha ... a lot of work… keeps me by the throat! ... She did! Every day whines and whines and whines - why here? ... America is so and such! ... And every ... day ... Away from her! ... I hear you, but remember, I'll raft girlfriends to you? ... Here - take Vera, and my daughter into the bargain!.. Vera was a good woman! ... She even not got a big belly! ... Only  ... a hillbilly becomes she! Homemade chicken! Let come old man -   to fix her wash-tub!... but beware silly you… next she will ask for a mansion…

Remember her play? Remember Lenin room? And here - never! Nine! Niht! None! Zero! No play! And she - do not care! I ... asked ... asked ... She…Tired!  Here… To teach Gita - yes! May even get up at night!  But herself - finita!... because of that, there is the ... with her ... Well that ... took her ... me… fool like gnats on fire ... by Chopin ... in general ... hooked ... but right now I left her completely!... ball finished… went out candles ... grand piano was taken to the dump ...
- Mark, come on, I'll take. Sleep it off and the next day all about it ... where are you live?
- Yes, I've been there, in the basement… 2 blocks from here, and then the cops and the cops on ... on Neptune.  I've been here and went to hide ... listening ... in Brooklyn is a police has a sober room? No-ho-choo! Lead on, friend! Yes, how have you gone? We love you and looking for ...  and you! Vanished…
- Where do you live?
- She - on 3rd Street, where green pimped… one floor hat.  And I… in underground, in the ... basement…

I pulled Mark in my booth, spread a newspaper and laid him on the floor, where he had a sweet sleep. After a few hours I brought him to his cellar. The ceiling was low, I bumped!
- Yeah! You have to be a humble servant of G-d! Bowing your head, you bastard! Be humble! The higher the lower the...

In the morning I went back to Mark to talk for Vera’s sake. Here I let my imagination run wild! Invented, it was still there in the university, I secretly confided Vera’s appreciation of Mark.... As my grandmother said, "sold 10 barrels of prisoners."  I gave him all the drugs he was force-fed his girlfriends and me, when he did ads in our dorm!
And in the end I could not resist to say:
- Mark, she's a talent! Maybe if it was then, 20 years ago, she would have heard by a musician like Horvitz, he would say more!
- More like ... the letter ... "H"?..
- ... But ... she ... what are called "autistic", "low self-esteem" and there we have… she is too shy ... She just buried the talent! ... You know what? Give her such  ... tactical ... but clear ultimatum – she has to start to play, or are you gone already, indeed… Forever! And for all! Yes! Knock a fist on the table! Say it! Be menacing as a rude man! Like, do you respect or not?

The same day, my favorite watchman job I had to leave again immediately.  I was afraid that Mark quickly made up with Vera and they will come to greet me as the best in the world of family peacemaker....  I was afraid even to see those types of hands, from those follows the drug named Chopin ... Afraid to be their "best friend"...  Afraid that she learns who is the fake Aizek ... Loss! Loss!

On Sunday night I was near Vera house. The windows were open - it flashed behind curtains silhouettes of all three. Then I began to hear the scales... half an hour.... then Mozart, Bach ... and not Chopin…. Gita played.  The same thing happened the following Sunday and again ...  She was far from Horvitz… that the moment came of brilliant rehash of  Feltsman pride and rarely - a faint sigh departing spirit… sobs of chopin-ishment.

By the fall Vera’ windows were not open, but I purchased "the fly", which amplifies the sound and was here once a month.  Again, a lot of meaningless, but "technical" by Mozart, a little Bach… with a little aerie, but being driven diligent technicality ... a spark was present and does not lit the fire ...

In spring Gita opened Chopin ... A shadow of Vera's expression was shown moments there ... but ... as if afraid of something, was flying back to Paris, and to its place in the land ... and those pieces were not. But 13 years ago she promised to tell Mark about her miracle? How so? After all, he once again can go out at any time! Can I open? Or give a hint about her secret?  No! I can all finally spoil it! What to do? ... "... Out of the depths I call to you! .."

In some Sunday, I saw in their window that Vera was alone. She sat there and tried to play something ... Finally…  But it was horrible! It seemed her fingers were unruly fake wooden sticks, and a melody barely moved on crutches - but that was it! The very chopin-ishment!  As a man, laid in a coma for 13 years and started to walk again - the Vera’ music tried again to revive ... but ... could not! Manuscripts here - on a stand, but they are half-dead!  Without her play, I can assume that they are almost burned! What to do? Loss! Loss?
*
… .....There’s much I know, yet without sense or reason:
.......I’m partial, yet I hold with all men, in common.
.......What more can I do? Redeem what I’ve in pawn, welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone…
.......Other people are bright; I alone am dark.
.......Other people are sharp; I alone am dull.
.......Other people have purpose; I alone don't know.
.......I drift like a wave on the ocean;
.......I blow as aimless as the wind…
*
7. Development. Clash of topics. Transitions. 2000 - 2001
I'd do anything to get you into my world and hold you within
*
Vera restored hard and long, though was forced, her playing technique…her pride did not accept the ultimatum….openly at least…  Mark went back after the ultimatum to drunks and homeless people in Brighton.  I felt that only Aizek could help them.  Grew more hair and beard with long sideburns ... Finally, I decided to open up a bit.  Mark could be lost and Vera could not make it, but her play has improved markedly and somehow was similar to what it was 12 years ago after a memorable miracle of Moshe Berechiah.  Now I need that Aizek “accidentally" meet with Vera and persuade to open her secret.
And my second conspiracy cost me shiver, sweat and stress, as they say here, "a month in advance” ... It’s hard to describe my and her "delight of a chance meeting" and mutual: "Do you remember “... Somehow I persuaded Vera to hide "feminine pride and resentment at the time being" and to tell the truth to Mark about plays and even the missing cancer.  And he did not know it yet!.. Of course, I pretended to know nothing about her attempts to restore the plays ...
- Yes, yes, Mark, (look at the family portrait) somehow I will find him with a boozer-homeless.  Prominent figure!.. Of course, he will come!
Obviously, neither Aizek nor Alex may not come to Mark. I had sent to him a familiar rabbi, who loved Aaron’ job to reconcile family. Briefly describe the situation.  It remains only waiting in the evenings, when Vera comes home from work, to watch her window....

Intrigue made me intoxicated ... I hardly slept… Hiding in an old car, with a "listener-in" and dived more into the improving gradually Vera’ chopin-ishment ...
Mark finally came.  Vera’s silhouette pacing the room, and finally they came out of the house. Hairstyle with bumps on the head, eyelashes! Lipstick!  Elegant red dress ... Oh! Did she make herself like "Lady-in-Red"!?  Happiness in the eyes! .... And… and... Ridiculous high heels... never seen her in such high heels ... Did she wanted to do impression? Oh, it was such a sorry sight ... Jane, a little gray one, at the altar on her heels ...  After 2 hours, they came back, rattled dishes ... meal ... Half an hour later she began to play .... I grabbed my binoculars and looked through the crack in the curtains… Mark ... He was not in self ... Sitting right swallowing a count ... Then there was the last revelation ... Her voice ...
- Mark, it was not a Chopin’ play.... I wrote ... it’s all mine… back then ... when you listen to it all there in the university ... you… just do not knew ... I did not tell anyone ... it was ... is ... my secret ...
- How? What? No! ... Cannot be! ...
- Yes ... this is my ... and it is ...
Vera played a second piece. I saw the droplets rolled in Mark's face...

How did you ... could hide ... 20 years ago ... and you wrote it yourself? Ve ... I am in shock ... it means that you do not trust me? ... This is what I saw in you, in you ... a gray mouse, on which all the boys were afraid to be close and look on! ... And talk! ....  ...  I felt that there not Chopin ... and you? I felt! .... Not at all! ... Yours! ... Even afraid to admit this idea! Damn! ... Now your spell! I thought - it's just Chopin! ... And it's you! .... 20 years! ... How could you? ...
- Mark, well, I was a fool ... it was my most inner ... then this America ... poverty ... Gita ... her lessons ... household... And I could no longer play ... cannot sit down to the instrument ... it is for me ... Well as you know that ... as an altar ... and all of this with me ... here ... in the mud ... Well, it's like ... moreover, to come in a Temple from a piggery being not washed ... and you ... I was always afraid ... I'm afraid to lose you!  I'm still in force was involved, hardly return technique a little... I wanted to give you my most important ... the most ... a gift ... Well, everyone needs to have something most precious secret, sacred ... I met you a long time… bur to open ... it needed to got kind of personal miracle… it all started to happen so quickly with my daughter ... Your departure... and here… I felt like a pulled root... I again began to feel bad... still afraid go to check ... there ... in Pripyat I have found, well ... something of this radiation ... then somehow passed ... miracle that I ... it is ... now begins again ... What kind of music then?  All I knew - I gave to Gita ... and ... I do not believe that the manuscripts can be burning...

- No! No! And no! I also know how ... I can! ... To feel the music!  How many hours we discussed with Alex your play from Lenin room! We bought all the available records of Chopin, even read the notes out! Your play - it is His hand! Had he lived longer - he would have written it! Or the like! People need to know this! It should not be perished!
- Yes?.. Alex does have heard me play too?
- Yeah ... as! He hid behind the door, as sneaky-coward!  You should have at least to show to someone ... specialist!
- Specialist? Oh ... I think someone already said that...
- Yeah! Someone… then you opened your most-most, and I just had to wait! And you said that I - was favorite? Lie! All lies! Cheating! 20 years of living a lie!
- Oh ... It was quite by accident ... you were not there - I was sick, seemed the end ... resigned ... and I just happen… healed by one person… helped… so, like ... like magic ... by wave of the hand ... I would also give him a gift ... Forget it!  Just had a good friend and I saw him 2 times only!  Yes, I'm a fool! You know me ... Yes; I would have died of fear from even a thought to cheat!  Yes, I barely got used to you, after how many? ... Seems 5 years ... and someone else would be instead?... brrr… fear and horror!.. Funny ...
- But still! How could you hide from me a miracle? These plays?
- Miracle? ... Oh ... yes ... miracle ... yes it was a time ... how long has it been ... What are you bloated? Yes any composer can mimic harmonies of Chopin, Bach, Beethoven… something bungled by their language ... and that no one need it...
- That's it, bungled! But there will not be the spirit of the master, and you have!
- Oh, of course! ... There!.. Yes, I did close to them - no, I will be dead from fear, if we can show some of that to any "professional"...
*
… ....Other people have what they need; I alone possess nothing.
......I alone drift about, like someone without a home.
......I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty…
… ....Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
*
8. KABBALIANA number 12. Isolation and Cadence. Quietly. Smoothly. Sometimes mild anxiety.
We may be oceans away, you feel my love, I hear what you say...
*
At the time, I sympathize with Mark… Than started the car and drove away…  Ah. .. To hell with them, and their ridiculous chopin-ishment! With these prudes, smoothies, secrets in the Ocean Islands! Passion-cheeky!  "With the fat a rage came," as my grandmother said! Mu-usic! For thousands of years people lived without piano! Even King David had what?  String and wind - and then - for a great holiday only! And so just the rabbis say that there is no Temple, then no music allowed... how convenient to them that no Temple - and then there is also no this and no that... You can only sing ... yeah ... fit to a funeral.... And in Africa there is more freedom! Boom-baam and that all the music and joy... and waking ... Lao-Tzu was right that people must be illiterate, grow rice and build dams. That's it! Art – at top, rice – to masses.... Even Leo Tolstoy discarded Shakespeare, Beethoven ... In general, instead of Mark there could be me... if I first entered into the door! And now, I could be sitting, fooled... by Vera’ revelation… ... No, there is something good to be alone!  In an extreme case, you can listen to Chopin and Horowitz ... in the record ... sitting in a guard booth and quietly cursing the 75% waste that radio damps from only classic Station FM 105-9.... Perhaps, here are solid specialists!  Except for some programs by Fred Child they have such a wonderful, masterpieces ... true confusion in the music!  Some  dances-shmanzes of hundreds Haydn symphonies… true… our black and white people supposedly very thirsty for kings palace dances made 300 and 400 years ago…  a great success!  Then for dessert – application of Mozart super technique ... and to compote nightmare - violin experiments by Beethoven – true substitute of sleeping pills! ... Are you kidding? If Beethoven was proclaimed a genius - then his everything should be of the highest quality!.. Encyclical! - Sun spots? Cannot be! ... Well, sometimes alone for a set - Schubert and Brahms ... and at night - Wagner Valkyries ... "For those who do not sleep ..."  ... yeah ... for us ... night watchmen and other moths, beetles and spiders ... about ... mister! ... Do you love the classics? ... Wow ... about ... ... Sharman ... wonderful ... nice ... Great ... Magnificent ... superb ... amazing... brilliant! ...
I went, and for some reason myself scold FM 105-9 ... and Vera ... fooled Mark…

... Our shy Vera... 3 friends ... we were… and are not... before city Chop ...
To the chopin-ish house I almost did not drive now... so ... Sometimes… To see how they are. Once or twice a year to arrange "accidental" meeting in with Mark ... ... but after 6 years, he saw me and just threw a couple of sentences...
- There are... something… Today, join us on the 3rd Street. Vera ... sick ... hard ... cancer ...
Really is it time to disclose the mystery and manifestations Alex and Aizek?  At night, I bury my face into carnations bouquet and come. The door was open; Mark was sitting on a chair in the hallway. Eyes closed. His ears covered by speakers.
- Mark?
He startled, recognized me.
- Why, once I recorded Vera play ... does not get enough ... probably go crazy ... called the piece "Chopin-ish 1st." Like the name?  Remember when I six years ago left from her, drunk? ... I found a rabbi and he said Vera wants to talk to me and to give the gift of ... and, as we heard in the dorm? .. We are amateurs, did think - it's something from Maestro, and that was it! ... It was indistinguishable, brilliant fake!  Here was what subconsciously fascinated me! ... And then it all stopped playing... then when I left ... she suddenly changed!  She played, certainly not as much as before, and she admitted ... her play… I was shocked! I still ... I cannot forgive!... Once a week, she played me a new piece from her "stocks" - there ... with her past ... and with each ... new ... as if a wound in my heart ... and every time I wanted to hear them all ... and immediately ... destroy... from the heart ... because ... that previously we did not know! ... nothing! ... And listen again! ... I do not understand myself... Vera leaves ... and did not want to be treated ... said if prayer does not help… a mashebreh came up, it means it's time to go... ... and no one to say that... Aizek only someone in Kiev ... aha! You? ... Even to daughter ... then ... after ... do not worry ... she will be here with her brood of grandchildren from Israel ... throwing his poor Kabbalist Lightman alone! ... Begin to howl ... Grandma will not go quietly ... come ...  she is awake... a month cannot eat anything there ... only drinks...

I went ...  the old scratched piano with open notes… bed ... On a high pillow ... pink cheeks ... she… maiden! ... With a high forehead ... aquiline nose ... or not? ... Swelling on the lips ... thick hair down to shoulders ... it! ... No! .. He! ... Chopi...
- Oh, Aizek came! And I ... all ... Here ... your moshebereh gave me another 30 wonderful years! ... I raised my daughter! You should have heard her play! She made even live concerto for Saxophone and Orchestra! At age 11… she wrote!  They came… "Good Morning America" to shoot ... talent… For neither was taken, all the first! True.. then broke... Remember the flower to the sun stretches and breaks?... Sorry, gave up music ... giving birth to children… teaches Kabbalah ... It is true, as I… become just a housewife ... play stops ... sitting there with nothing ... there is no money for the bath ... Children nothing to bathe... and granddaughters are so smart, you would have seen ...
Oh ... guys ... you are my last wish ... can I? These notes, Mark calls "chopin-ish" ... even began to give such ridiculous names - first, second ... guys ... copy, take to Gita ... let her play at least once ... Let granddaughters learn... after all. The manuscripts should not be burned?

Mark knelt down and bowed his face to Vera and stammering asked:
- So it's ... so ... was.... so it was ... THIS? CHOPIN? Not yours?

- Ha ... I did fake masterpiece! ... Oh and clever I am! .... Chopin ... yes and no ... this is my last secret ... my processing scraps and drafts... his… Maestro…
- Drafts? But how were they come to you? Drafts?
- Oh ... in 12 years, my grandmother found out that I went to music school and bought me a piano ... 500 rubles! A lot of money in those days ... '1966 ... Then she gave me a bag with someone's notes ... She said it was her grandmother kept even from Polish exiles ... even those before the Tsar ... 1830 uprising ... or later ... there was one ... and ... I'm only in a year… realized Whose handwriting, Whose hand! ... There were only the beginnings, drafts of melodies ... but I realized that Heaven has entrusted to me Miracle! ... The mystery! ... My island in the ocean! ... Oh ... ... with some fear and trepidation that I looked into each note ... He seemed to me… next to me, snotty girl ... 13 years of age ... managed and directed ... smiled ... like a big brother ... leads to His world ... Paris, Warsaw, London, there! There! In 200 years ago ... When I realized that, I ran to my grandmother… and cry - it's VERY Chopin’s DRAFTS! And she ... wailed ... so funny!

- But at least Roman Pop! I do not know your Chopin; just know that we have passed the package… with instructions - whom will play on piano… package to give and give and to open... I do not know anything ... here...  lines and dots...
- Where? ... Where ... Now this package? - We asked almost together
- Do you guys have fallen from the moon here?.. It is 150 years after the royal customs wheeling manuscripts ... here was his sister, Louis, even smuggling Chopin heart and was able to bring it to Poland! ... But ... through our ... iron border? .... Where I could be caught and send from city Chop to Siberia for smuggling a state treasure?... And tell you how I and other women passed customs in Chop? ... Remember Voltaire, "Candid"? ... Algerian pirates ransacked captives’ women? ... Read it? ... Ha-ha! ...Get them naked and search for a gold in an ass ... but I'm still the coward! Though I knew nothing in my ass could be except common for all human, you know what kind of gold… and I felt in the faint slam!  Funny?.. And Mark is called me angel-in-piano! .... Fallen angel with naked booty from Chop! ...
oh ... laugh ... stop smiling! ... Oh ... I will finish ... ahead of time ... ...
- So ... what? ... "The manuscripts were burned"?

- No ... No more guess ... before leaving, I buried them in the grandmother’ cellar in the wall ... Kirov region, Yaransk district, village Ardamashka ... there they are ... and here - have finished my variations ... Did not even want to give Chopin drafts to local museum ... There have simply been stolen and sold a hundred times ... scary to think that some dirty speculator hands… paws... and on the envelope were dried 3 drops... They may even have been tears? ... His or of Louis? ... Or that the first Polish exile who brought the envelope to Vyatka province, to the village Ardamashka? ... All the way!... More ... grandmother said something strange - not only to pass the envelope, to the one who will play, but to say that this is the same gift to "Barmitsa." I looked dictionaries - "Barmiza" is kind of like the helmet’s Chain Vest ancient warriors... Strange... no Vest...
Mark and I looked at each other ... Indeed, the word is strange... like a "bar mitzvah"?.... Here in Brighton, anyone knows it... although we assume that Vera does not have a clue...
- Hey ... do not look at each other! I can still see! Something good or bad?.. – She asked.
- Good ... It is not a Vest... just a special day ... of birthday ...
- Ahhh ... I never guessed that a good ... special ... Kabbalistic ... Gita ...  She campaigned to Kabbalah ... I do not understand ... except, as the light is not placed over the vessel, there is something breaks and flows on, and again breaks ... and so it does 12 times or 10... And then free... and light and vessels fragments.... they all fly away and gathered again... strange… in music the same happened... melody fills unstable sounds and tends to dominant sounds, dominants breaks and flows on ... around ... quinta ... quarta ... 3 ... 4 ... 3 ... is 10 and 2 ... 7 or 5… twelve .... Oh! I also became kabbalist-ness! ... Hooray!

Oh ... In general, the sound… The same wave.... vibrations... and notes - these points, the particles... fragments... sparks ... Remember our quantum mechanics study? We have been taught dualism of wave and particle?... I understood nothing and remember a little… just like if an electron flies currently free… unnoticed - it a wave... and as soon as it even has possibility to be noticed... to see… to hear… it’s not the wave anymore but a particle... then if it flies back to freedom - again, it a wave... and if someone sees it... or hear... or appeared only the opportunity to hear it... something about it to learn about it... it again a particle... This is music! Yes! Music and listener! Music - it is a wave, vibration, overtones.... It flies free out of the hands... of composer of fantasy… from pure mind married to emotion!... Just as pure idea... the imaginary function of something unimaginable... square of minus one... multiplied by billions of overtones...  trick of magician genius... but!... as soon as it meets a keen ear ...an  audience that understands and hears - it breaks!.... turns on the music, a spark of broken vessels… The listener that may be merged with the composer, with the creation, the Creator...  boys... listen… you are my ear ...
my audience... my sparks... ...

- And now, gentlemen, let us, wizards, magicians and Mrs. Kabbalists – let it be practice! Theory let us leave to children... Let us give birth to more children... then at least one can be, will be sensible, as my Mark’s mother said… She was without the Kabbalah in the head... Boys, hoisted me to the piano. I have not played my last play... and wine... give me… Today I need a drink... VIP guests are... so many secrets... Mark, what is a last name came up?
- Chopin-iana number 11, - he said…

Great! And he called our daughter... without me is noticed... I not mad at you... Wait and I will name that prelude… I have the right! I created it ... I'll call it… and ... so ... attention ... cook ... .... I announce ... KABBALAINA number 12!
We hoisted her, and I decided:
- Since today all secrets come out ... Vera… I'm not Aizek ... rather yes and no ...  the name of my grandfather... I am... Alex... your third friend... room 8?  And you did not know me ... there in Kiev... I was scared be recognized... you... you... because a married woman to...
- Oh ... boys! ... you cheered me! Mark! Imagine, our demure coward Alex with us! And I used to know, that you are listening at the door, and Mark, my brave knight!  It was he who always came! And what was I a coward!  Mark… I liked  Alex even more... good that he fled from us ... and he is not! Oh ... that's with me last! I am flirted!.. Ha…  How am I as coquette?... With one foot in the other world?... mind you fool... yeah!... More about me...  you?... Will you at least… will you fight over me?...   No one has ever tried to shoot! ... I want! I want! ... You know ... in the 19th century some went on a duel… fatal shooting… because of la famme fatal!
And I am just ... ha! ... .. So let's go, or I should be offended! .. Who will get that prize – the cancer woman in all her indescribable beauty?  Oh ... rather what you would use to shoot? ... Pistols here and there cannot be a... buy low ... - New York is not Texas, gun... forbidden ... here the with word "GUN" any muscular white intellectual in a suit and tie, immediately shall faint and loudly call "Help, Mommy..."  What do we have here? .. Carnations? ... Wait ... Let broke their heads ... Aizek do not need carnations… no use to be dragged them into the synagogue... it all - a product of my sick imagination... so... here three clove head... instead of bullets... and swords... and to barrier, my dearest men!  Shoot with your eyes closed!... Well...  I see… you do not want to... do not... but I was offended... my childhood dream, that someone would shoot over beauty me... to death, of course... Then the second would be the most injured... I have long treated him... treated... made him from the battle field... "If friend was wounding ... a girlfriend bind up the bloody wounds of his ...” to very healthy, I would have cast something sharp in the face... for example... "How could you, a monster? In you there is not a drop of pity! You - a monster, and I thought a fool I am, that you're my idol!"... Oh! Why do not you shoot?... I realized ... you're good men... you pitiful... you're not monsters... now this is what I write out in own head ....... what you want... I was a fool woman... and this is about ... somehow... ... came close ... Mark ... open your box and record my play… brilliant...  secret… impromptu... I afraid... there is such a terrible sequence... I want to cry... but now we have a cheerful evening of reveal secrets?... Open the cover... There you are... my little wizards... 88 keys... doors... of world-not-from-this-world... I have to visit you... once again ... You do not mind? ...

She was playing, it seemed an eternity ... it was clear that she has not has almost no power - only at this ... More and more quietly - melodies flew like yellow leaves ... silence ... no ... She turned her head, smiling.
- Now is the cadence ... that's my thing! ... Only slightly outlined harmony ... something similar to the flight under water ... Yes, this cadence ... I call ... FLYING UNDER WATER .... .... such as the Black Sea ... at 6 am ... on the wild beach ... near Gelenzhik ... calm ... the water was clear as glass ... butterfly ... birds ... small animals ... and gulls ... I like a seagull ... I am a seagull! ... Mark gave me a mask and I swam... dived… seemed flying... as in a dream... fish at bottom... algae ... was something like Moonlight Sonata... yes... some wise guy once ... after Beethoven had called it... probably listening to it at night under the moon... I would call the flight under water.... Try... ... only more wine ... I have not quite drunk ... Pour yourself too ... ... that drink…
Mark and I looked again. We have for a moment "tongue stuck to the roof."  We feared looking at Vera...
- Oh... - She screamed... - Something I really... the main thing I forgot! It my grandmother, too, had the same illness... as I have... I remember her agony.... weary hands in the garden ... 88 years... all her hands ... at night could not find a place to rest... brrr... Mar, give me my sleeping pills… Today I want to sleep tightly and tomorrow for a long time to sleep.... Wait a drink, will play the cadence and go sleep! There are 3 grandfathers I have again called...
Vera took a handful of...
- For what do we drink? Alex? Mark? Faster! This Cadence is more beautiful than it was before!  Should we toast drink? Cadence in hurries! She does not wait! She hurries...
I blurted out ridiculous toast
- For life? Le Chaim?
- Hooray! Le Chaim! - Whispered Vera and drank in one gulp...
Her hand dropped onto the keys… strings rattled, like then, from both on the two-legged piano... then... in the truck... and head rolled at feet ... Queen ... No - it's not a head, but a glass! ...
And Mark… just whispered malediction… like those 3 grand piano loaders 18 years ago ...
I felt a sultry by black power... Vera was frozen like a doll, our doll... she sits, eyes are far, far away, and face has changed!  It was again not her...  Bur Chopin's death mask! I had nothing to breathe... cannot breathe... I grabbed the unfinished bottle... ran out and sat under her window... now I cannot play a drunk... her music has exploded in the brain and there... there - I played it again! Her Cadenza!  And do not even sorry that never could remember no melody or translated it into 12 points and 5 lines ... And mentally it is not worse than of Horvitz play! I swallowed, dripping from the bottle bottle ... all ... the end ... loss! Loss!
*
….....Countless words count less than the silent balance between a sound note and a silent note…
......Embracing Melody, you become embraced.
......Supple, breathing gently, you become reborn.
......Clearing your vision, you become clear…
 … ...I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain, Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth:
 .....In my own land, I’m in a far domain: Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief: Bare as a worm, dressed in a furry sheathe,
......Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
*
9c.  Third option of a cadence.
When the dream is gone it's a lonelier place ...
*
I as if dropped out of reality. I remember further, as a dream. I embraced Vera's body and through a tear rattled: "Moshe Berekh... Give her only a year more! We have to arrive to Gita and give Vera's notes. Manuscripts shouldn't burn down!"
Mark goggled and looked on my rattles and as the dead body came to life and as she suddenly deeply sighed. 
I remember as we three together sat in the plane.  Vera sat between us, slept.  Her head fell down, bowing on my shoulder, then to Mark’s shoulder.  We held her by hands, without looking at each other.  In my head the old song "Do Not Disappear" turned.
*
https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=uah9Of9aFhQ
*
Israel. Turmoil of Tel Aviv and Middle Ages of Jerusalem orthodoxy. Crying of people at the Wailing Wall and rage in eyes of Arabs of the Old City.  Dead ground in valley of Jordan.  Camels and donkeys of Bedouins. "Dreamily we were returned".  Year flew by, dreamily.  The Vera forgot the diseases and blossomed. We sat in a park with her grandchildren and cheerfully guessed as this year for which I implored for it will come to Vera’s end today.  Shabbat sirens hooted. (By the way I always surprised that my people didn't think up other "sacred" sound as at other "firms" have. For example, such as bells or cries of muezzins).
Sirens as we heard.  Cries of women.  "Kalashnikov's" knocking didn't manage to cease.    I with Vera jumped.    She quickly stepped forward, stretched hands, and flew to me a back and hard sat down.    I saw my hands in her blood and ahead the black figure which was feverishly changing a horn of the machine gun.    In the head the voice flashed:    "you have 5 seconds".   
Flush of memory. 
At elementary school I was 9 years old.  During a loud call on a lesson I ran up and kicked the school hooligan.    The bandit was 13 years old and he offended all children.   Then the feeling of animal rage for the first and for the last time flooded me, that Vikings would call "Berserker".    All that happened in a fraction of a second.    Nobody noticed though in a corridor there were many children running.    The hooligan fell and he never wasn't visible at the school.   It is a lot of years later, I apologized for this act to Heaven.  Maybe he became a cripple...    maybe more...   
This rage flooded me the second time. I run, I flied… towards to this black figure. He managed to enclose the second magazine, but I was near already.  And it is exact as with that pathetic hooligan, 50 years ago, I hard waved a foot under a tailbone of the bandit, as blow of a penalty of the football player. The bandit fell. His head made a watery sound.  I, in madness, drove it in with a heel. This head into the earth. Some hands dragged me. Vera was carried away on a stretcher and I rushed to it. Some hands seized me again, tumbled down on the earth. I looked at her hand which is hanging down from a stretcher and didn't see more anything. 
Me interrogated, but I only prayed. It was opposite to me to talk with these people who had to protect Vera and did not.  Then there was a court. I did imputed lethal and excessive use of force in time of "citizen arrest".
Prison was good. I was feed. I was allow to sleep and read my favorite book. "Psalms". And recently, kind prison doctor found at me a cancer of a prostate. I refused treatment. For me it there was a sign from Vera.  She shielded me from a bullet and calls to herself. Glad to it. No, happy.
*
9a. The first version of cadence. A very slow start. Artist or viewer improvisation.
......When the dream is gone it's a lonelier place ...
*
We were only two in the cemetery and the rabbi. She buried the next day and Gita did not had a time to visit in such a short notice... With Mark we barely scraped together $4000 for a funeral home and a grave, and Mark is also bought one little 7’x3’ beside Vera wile had a discount... I also wanted to buy here... but had not enough... ... I told about the riddle of 3 grandfathers ... and as Vera called herself then, 20 years ago, "a Jew of the Sign" ... Then we decided to cheat a little… We told to a rabbi at the funeral home, that she was Jewish... I do not know why we are perpetrated? What's the difference?  We felt just that's right ... that Vera self as wants so ... I also told Mark her miracle in the synagogue 20 years ago… and it was not "just" a convert to Judaism, but may be premium convert to Judaism ... She now there... And here it just dust-from-dust, “leather garments"... Not any a rabbi, can accept as we then waged amateur homemade Moshe Berechiah and Vera made herself a Jew... and Mark and I, "the great Jewish sages" took the opinions of all the authorities, decided that this case is not simple, but special, out of the ordinary, and that the Creator personally made Vera a convert to Judaism... can anyone believe it?... Like, how He said to Moses, somewhere ... "from the stone to become a new people" ... Maybe it’s a miracle - a transition of a "stone" into a "Jew"? ... And I'm ... - I'm back transition ... from Jew to stone?... thick-skinned, little feeling his roots, who cannot and does not understand - the stone...

And much to say about 3 grandfathers - here we could sent to a psychiatrist for sure ... 911 as the saying goes, "when the man said he spoke to God - this is a prayer, and if you say that God spoke to you - it is the patient."  The plot of a little comedy can come out of this ... So what? Maybe...
*
….....My Melodies are easy to understand and easy to put into practice.
......Yet your intellect will never grasp them, and if you try to practice them, you’ll fail. 
......My Melodies are older than the world. How can you grasp their meaning?
......If you want to know them, look inside your heart…
*
2008

I met with Mark sometimes. But he was tedious and stood on same phrase, "do you remember how"... from this waved images of longing, sadness, fear, and horror ... and cadence, the mask of Chopin ... Then I moved the conversation on our philosophy of music that we started as boys at the university 37 years ago... and now we are so smart and knew a lot... though remained amateurs ... funny?  We even wrote a letter and e-mailed to the classic station FM105-9! ... We smashed to smithereens compilation of their music ... we criticized their witty... we gave examples of good music by Bach and Chopin, which generally almost never stations dare to run... We even sent a tape of Vera playing with excerpts and notes ... It gave Mark some activity for half a year ... until we got the answer... "Very grateful for ... Your opinion is important to us ... Contact us”..... It seemed to us ... that answer is not written by a man at all but a computer!... like a stencil… made for any of these as we are... crazy writers…

Mark went down… did not go to his daughter ... but he gave me Vera notes and a tape of play...  I lost his track... Often listened to the tape... so many times that it broke.... Then went on the anniversary… visit Vera grave…. Plate, we did not put... not enough money... next to her plate saw another... "Mark ..." ...
Goodbye my friend, goodbye, do not be sad and do not frown ...
I went back to be a watchman for 280 per week. I will earn for plates for Mark and Vera! ... I'll buy a ticket and visit Gita!... I'll give her Vera’s notes!... I... Manuscripts do not burn!... I'll show!... I...
I'd do anything to get you into my world and hold you within... I'd do anything... It's a right I defend over and over again...
*
….....Essence of Music…Listen, and it can't be heard…
......Look, and it can't be seen…
......Reach, and it can't be grasped…
......Above, it isn't bright…Below, it isn't dark…
......Seamless, unnamable, it returns to the realm of nothing…and silence…
......Form that includes all forms… image without an image. 
......Subtle, beyond all conception… Approach it and there is no beginning...
......follows it and there is no end… You can't know it, but you can be it,..
......At ease in your own life… Just realize where you come from:
… ....this is the essence of Music….”
*
Music http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVh_V9-XlV0
*
Nocturnes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdimyyD-ZQk