Mystical Kiev and stories

– Yes OK. Well, I went. And then for you to sign.

– Yeah, let’s go. Do you know where our clinic? Today, there is just a dentist accepts.

– I have mother-in-law at the Institute of Dentistry, opposite the Bessarabia Market, physician-scientists are working stoma. He is waiting for me already.

– So go. – He put the folder with drawings under his arm and ran out the door. And I with a sigh of relief went through the cabin number six. Asked on duty there woman on duty – Where to go? – I said that going for a furlough. This procedure took me less than ten minutes. And five minutes later I triumphantly presented a leave guard in the booth number six. That long considered a piece of paper with the signatures, I could not resist, did quipped: – Signatures are all genuine, what’s wrong?

– There must be signed Chief of Staff.

– But there Maksimovna signed Zinaida, she has the right to a formal management approval of the plant and the secret part. – I do not give up. The guard stared at me with her evil little eyes, and slowly without taking his eye mouse slowly slipped on a piece of paper sticking out the pin, which has a pile hanging severance passes.

– Come on! – He muttered, pressing the pedal stop rotating cross. I like to springs charged jumped into the fresh air of the factory gate and collided with Isay.

– Alexander, but where are you?

– I was in the frames. Think of a question about your AWOL removed. Well, there is a separate entrance from the second floor. So that’s all right. – With a smile, a reassuring look at me, my team leader.

– Yes, Friday and today will not be tabulated.

– It is clear that I do not get a penny these days. – But Isaiah was no longer there. With the drawing of a mouse, he stood on the steps of the entrance porch and talked with the military in the form of Soviet Navy.

There remains, finally, with himself, I walked slowly walking along the tram tracks towards the Red Square. There near the monument to Ukrainian philosopher Gregory pan, I sat down on a wooden bench, and began to reflect on his present position in the design department of special plant «Electric appliance». Bus passing by, some stayed near the bench where I was sitting. Finally, it dawned on me that I was still in the parking lot route. I had to, got up and walked in the direction of Andrew’s descent. Following along the rows of souvenir, I noticed a familiar climbing the stairs towards the top of Castle Hill. Legs like themselves-gales motion in this direction, and, most surprisingly, I did not feel any fatigue. And all this guilt was indescribable thirst for unexplored miracle. I wanted to feel again the strange change in the weather, and I went straight to this magic circle, without knowing why. Excitement filled my senses. I would particularly like to feel like a researcher unidentified phenomena of nature, which can not be said, even the closest people, to not consider you not quite adequate mood. But today’s conversation in the department said unpleasant metamorphosis so that I would generally send everything and plunge into something predictable, once and for all put an end to the humiliation of the deed weathered minutes misconduct. No longer hesitate, I looked at his watch, not to be late home, and not to betray the fact that I did not have the whole day at the factory. The time was exactly eleven zero, zero, and the inscription of the day, «medium», of course, one thousand nine hundred and eighty one. Having determined the time, I boldly stepped into the center of the circle. Instantly everything changed. Trees and shrubs why they became half the size. Some of the trees did not exist either in place or nearby. There was a lot of space and light, and it was cool. And on the branches of bushes and trees near the foliage was not observed. Wind does not feel the warmth of the sun was shining, but not warmed. Shivering from the cold, I stepped back from the community, to the place where you just stood in amazement, nothing happened. Landscape, which has just changed in an instant, was unchanged. I froze with fear. Repeatedly jumping in the middle of the circle, and back I tried to go back into your reality, but all in vain. My manipulations to nothing lead. Desperate, I realized what had happened. I do not have my measurements, I’m in another reality. I began feverishly to think what it could mean. The idea came desperate to lose examples of people in the caves, extinction of entire crews of vessels on the high seas, and even remembered the ghost train, disappeared in the early nineteenth century, the Italian tunnel with passengers. Gradually, I began to come to life, struggling with despair of his foolish act. Then it became a logical co-deliver the facts, trying to find a memory of a constructive approach to the incident. In this new dimension, I found the cut tree stump and sat on it. The body immediately felt the cold touch, but I did not care, I have ceased to feel the cold. Reflecting on his back, I still could not believe that it happened to me. After sitting a little more, I made a last attempt. With eyes closed, he came to the center, and carefully opened his eyes, slowly raising the eyelashes. Everything was in place, nothing is changing. I had to go back on the stump. The cold and despair slowly left me, came to replace the cold and sober thinking of the fact of what happened. I began to think more coolly. Thus, if this phenomenon exists, then there is a de facto. So the one who came into this reality, that of it and went out, otherwise there would be observed this black spot, as many as three circles. But that meant three laps. In my case, it may mean only that the first time I walked in and was able to get out immediately. This is indicated by the outer circle. The second round, medium, means that for the second time a man stuck in a foreign reality for a long time. But that means an average circle appear that this phenomenon exists and that there is in this place. A person faced with this phenomenon, how to stay fork-encrypted message to his counterpart in misery, do not despair, you can come back and come back at a certain time. Yesterday! Not on Friday, pushed me back into my reality. So, on Friday I can come back and come back another year. What to do? It should be a year, somewhere to live, something to eat and drink, to do something. Well, my God, wow, that’s it got involved. To tell you will not believe, I do not consider in their mind. Well, the fact happened and the decision is made. It is necessary to survive in the new reality, not to be lost, and to control the situation. After all, I’m in Kiev range of people should be the main thing will be defined with the local reality, well, at least to know what year and what’s going on here? And stay in the shade and not to attract attention. So, I begin to adapt, to get to my cart-hour rotation, which will come on Friday, the next year in late September, the 25th day.

Reassure myself of this opportunity to return to my reality, I have decided to move quietly to explore a strange reality. Coming through the wet grass to dry the proposed tourism ladder, I was horrified to find solid bushes, through the bare branches, which, viewed a steep cliff that fell straight to the Little House on St. Andrew descent. In desperation, looked at St. Andrew’s Church, which from the height of the Castle Hill It was well visible and are still standing as a beacon in its rightful place, where she was once hoisted the famous architect Rastrelli. From this my heart was a little lain, and I self-preservation instinct, just mechanically, almost nothing is not knowing rushed as misguided ship in the ocean, in the light of this beacon of hope given to shaving.

When he reached the edge of the top, I found a trodden path that led down the hill, which lost further in the direction of the church. Along the path quickly began to descend from the mountain front it was another hill, not as big as Castle Hill. After it, I went down into the street St. Andrew’s Descent. There were no traders souvenirs or series of artists with their creations. The old dilapidated houses clung to one another. Some

The walls were flaky, which emanated from the musty basements and terrible poverty. By me were people dressed in old, battered clothes and curiously regarded Wail my working clothes consisting of a cloth jacket colors sun-bleached grass, wet shoes, a white shirt with a black collar and tie speckled, given to me for my birthday my wife. I decided not to focus on the views of passers-by and move on to the church. We saw a kiosk steps «Sojuzpechat.» He came closer, looked in the window booth. He looked at me with a face that seller big nose and sharp gray eyes, as if to ask what interests you, young man. I became curious to consider storefront with exposed logs, «Crocodile», «Young technician», «Soviet Sport» and other publications. Stallman does not pause first, he asked me:

– You must travel, young man? – Heard the voice, I was glad of human speech, and restraining the emotions and excitement, asked in turn:

– And you can find the magazine «Health» you have?

– Of course, we sell, but it gets a little kiosk better to write, just fifty rubles a year. – But I was tormented by one question, what year, day and month? And I began to ask again, at random: – Now September thirtieth, and the following month, in October, I can write? – Began to carefully observe the reaction Stallman, but he did not blink, then a month and day was all right, but, as for the year? But Stallman himself told me a year.

– You know, at the fifty-third better to write at once, that’s a month before the end of the fifty-two, you have to write, and it may be that not enough. This magazine is the most popular here in Kiev.

– Hey, you’re stuck there?! – I heard a gruff voice behind him. – You take or not take?

– What for travel rush?! – Shouted a man Stallman.

– Yeah, come on; carry on the war veteran snowstorm, your business trip nothing happens. Give’s better magazine «Soviet Sport». I check on «Dynamo» with «Spartacus» played?

But I was not listening. It was clear that the court of one thousand nine hundred and fifty second year, September 30, and in the calendar that hung in the window of a kiosk, I saw that today is Tuesday.

Chapter Four

It was necessary to solve something. Day has steadily moved to the end. It was getting cold, and there is no desire to be behind bars. But this was young and healthy, because that distant time, from Kiev where the homeless were taken away, arranging them on the job, after identification. I have, except the red badge at the «Electric appliance» no up-Document was not. Therefore, the most reliable option, and there was one, pretend to the poor old man and get out of the city to the village. I recalled my childhood, trying to remember myself at that age and all who come to us for alms. My God, of course there was one poor man, he lived in our village and my grandmother felt sorry for him and fed occasionally. I even guessed somewhere in the subconscious mind who it was. Of course it was me. Since my fifty-two years, I was six, of course, could not the poor and the old self to consider in more detail. I remember only that I had a long gray beard and gray hair. No wonder, after experiencing a throw back in time, you can completely turn gray. And my beard grows back quickly, and in the spring and in the summer I’m just going with a long beard and white hair. I still remembered that a beggar named Dorosh. In those days the poor old men do not pay attention. They were sitting near the church, begging and the authorities avoid them, because «God» people did not represent any harm to the Soviet authorities and was under the protection of the clergy. Also, the mendicant elder at the church, allowed to eat in the dining room for the poor. You could eat and keep warm. So, I had to be transformed into a beggar, this was the only guarantee that in a year I’ll get to that time portal and go back to your reality. How to be with this transformation. We must find a stick. And stick with unusual shapes to be seen that this old man, under the weight of his years it is difficult to walk, and he had to rely on the crutch. The most important thing to find a simple and unpretentious clothes. In the marketplace, you can dump the bags get thrown out of the forage. Just in 1952, he acted Hay Market, which sold fodder, hay, horse harness, oats and various household utensils. There you can reach an agreement prior to my native village Shpitki, Kiev Sviatoshynsky area. In the village acted church, a replica of the Vladimir Cathedral in Kiev. Before the Revolution, it was the residence of the famous Shpitki Tereshchenko sugar manufacturer, who also invested in the construction of the church. Deacon Theodosius Kuzmovich, sang in the church choir and worked part-collective farm beekeeper. And I often ran to him dine honey. He generously gave me fresh honey, and we talked with him. Of course, I was there and I’ll be here in such an old man, or I will not survive in this reality in the 1952 – ’53. It is not yet evening, I decided to start its transformation from Hay market, which at the hem. As it was, by the way, that I do not accidentally pulled out of his pants pocket volume plastic bag, wore it on the safe side for the food rations that were given to us for a deduction from wages. In this bag, I hide my clothes, somewhere on Castle Hill that would be at the appointed time to change clothes and go back through the portal at the time.

On Haymarket bazaar merchants have quietly folded. Some carts on the left, selling their goods. Peering closely at the cart, consisting of two horses, carts with straw and sketched empty baskets, and most importantly a man sled as if came out of those early childhood memories. Yes, it was the same as Uncle Vanya, which the first I knew at an early age, the husband of my aunt’s home Ghani. I lost my head from that, I wanted to run to him, to say who I am, and tell all that happened to me. But sober mind prompted to do reckless actions. To how it come to his senses, and make an informed decision, I grabbed his tie and began to take off his sharp nervous movements. To cope with it, folded and put a tie into the inner pocket of his jacket, still watch underwater. By the sled approached the woman, a teen girl in each arm were shopping cart. Skimp on the proceeds from the sales of their goods money, buy different delicacies, and now leave. I heard a woman’s aunt Manya and her daughter Olga, or in a simple way it was called Les. And then saving thought occurred to me how on a whim and that if I pretend to be the nephew of the brother of my grandmother. Especially because my grandmother Sribnaya Eugene Lavrentevna have not stayed in his home town of Pereyaslav-Khmelnitsky. Armed with this decision, I rushed to the wagon of Uncle Vanya.

– Hello, good people! – Approaching the cart, «I said cautiously, waiting for an answer. Leska, unfriendly and looked at me warily, muttering to come out into the cart Uncle Vanya: – Yes, go already! – Aunt Manya shouted at her: – Shut up, you do not ask. We learn what it takes to the young man. – By adopting this sign suggestions made that I need, I started the presentation of his legend.

– I told the people that you are from Shpitek. And my uncle, Gregory Lavrent’evich asked to call my Aunt Eugenia Lavrentevna and learn how she Shpitki lives there. As her health, well, a little of everything to find out. And ask when she’s going to come on a visit to his brother? – All this I made, trying to take the time to hide the excitement and coldness daughter Aunt Mani.

– Yes, and so we can tell you about our grandmother. On that Shpitki go? – Again intervened Leska. I winced at the words. I, as I could restrain myself not to betray his resentment, patiently waiting for an answer Aunt Mani.

– Eugene Lavrentevna will be very pleased to meet you. That you specially came to visit my mother?

– No. I arrived on a business trip at the «Electric appliance» of Pereyaslav-Khmelnitsky.

– A long time to us?

– No, just three days. On Saturday leaving.

– And what are you going? – Not appeased Aunt Manya.

– Course on riding a. How to go there then. – Suddenly our conversation interrupted Uncle Vanya: – So you are coming or not?

– Of course, the food.

– As soon climb to the carriage, and that is get, it will be dark.

I’m in no time jumped on the cart, unusually delicious smelling of freshly cut straw and at that moment felt such peace, and this peace, after troubles experienced that about everything forgotten. The eyes themselves were closed under the swaying rhythmically walking horses and wagon wheels bouncing. I was awakened by a hail of Uncle Vanya:

– You lie down, and then you will fall under the wheels, even cripple. – I did not argue, but simply stretched out on the straw and fell into oblivion. Just I heard the voice of Aunt Manya, who said – I guess not sleep at night on the train? – To whom she said these words, I did not know already, sleep overcame me and just loud:

– Tprr-p-oo-oo! – It sounded in my ear. I startled, opening his eyes. The wagon was standing at the gate of our house, painted in dark red color. Sunset was already in full swing, I threw off his sheepskin hood, which I hid Aunt Manya and you horse carts from the ground.

Pretending not to know what the house asked – So, what’s here? It is home to my Aunt Eugenia?

– And that Uncle Gregory did not show a photo gate, or what?

– Yes show.

– Well, that looks like? – Ask Aunt Manya. – On goodies Aunt Eugenia tell, tell you what we brought from the market.

– Do you have documents? – Asked Uncle Vanya, squinted slyly, smiling at me. I silently took a pass shoved under his nose. – You watch and photograph printing with the arms, Oli will show, and she have power.

I took a bundle with two French rolls from Aunt Manya and walked the familiar path, lined with bushes orange flowers to such familiar wooden corridor.

The door was already locked. I knocked. The door creaked open and the hallway steps shuffled my grandmother painfully familiar steps and her voice:

– And who is there such?

– This is your nephew from your brother Gregory of Pereyaslav-Khmelnitsky.

– From Gregory? – Grandma opened the door, and her wrinkled face broke into a smile. – Kolya, Kolya Well it’s your name?