Явор Емилов Тодоров (явор64)

Раздел: Проза на чужд език  Цикъл:

Ariana was an artificial pond and no one knew exactly when and under what circumstances someone was called it thus, just a toponym, beautiful and unclear. But this is the way the mass-media is working - in the beginning the lake was never popular under that name, later on, the periodically announced on the radio holidays with rock`n`roll, good occasion to meet randomly some acquaintance, confirmed that name and it became emblematic. In any case, the young people loved it as they like the free beer and free condoms. They maybe never will come into work, but being invited by some girls and boys from an ad campaign against AIDS is somehow sweet and reminds you that you are human.
They were introduced just at this place, they drank coffee and coke where there is now a luxury pizza-restaurant and earlier there was little caffe with cheap plastic tables and long lines, though not every time.
Actually, they were introduced in the consulting room of the Faculty of Biology. He has inexcusable absences from seminars in law and had to give blood to be endorsed his term. When he opened the heavy, old door she sat opposite to him in the company of the lady-doctor and the nurse and drank coffee, it was obligatory ritual before giving blood - for the tone and higher blood-pressure.
- Oh, how beautiful you are! - the lady-doctor said as if she was speaking of little child. - What nice red cheeks!
She was against him just smiling like a kid in a good mood that is smiling trustingly at someone unknown. They made them lie to each other in funny green aprons that tie back, but before that he also drank coffee which the nurse drew from a huge thermos and, sat across their desk, placed against the huge sofa with a small table in front, he began secretly to examine her. In the high windows are drained the drowsy afternoon light of a cool day in the early spring. In the semi-shadows he saw golden-blond hair with straight parting in the middle, very regular oval face, characterized by almost absolute symmetry and blue eyes, whose tone he was still not able to determine. The syringe was particularly thick and creating the strange sensation of foreign body, like an appendage, and associations was formed about the sacrament of life, the miracle of the blood, what are its ingredients, what things are made of and why man dies. The slow draining of the blood that filled the plastic bag which was slowly wobble by invisible mechanism and the light faint feeling that one experiences was creating exactly the association of life and death, of the secrets of medicine. And all that time that they lay on the couch, head to head, Ralitsa was smiling to him and her smile was encouraging - thing that troubled him. Rather he had to be with encouraging smile, because he was a man. They were watching each other like two little cat, like alien creatures of the same species and she was smiling, smiling and he remembered that smile for life. They made them now sit on the leather sofa, side by side again. They held their hands bend in the elbow, wrapped in the bandage of the nurse that bring coffee again and the chocolates. There was a large chocolate ¨Finn milk¨, with red carnations on light-red background, other chocolate also one hundred grams, in a yellow package, a small chocolate, blue in color, on which was drawn tub filled with milk, a little dessert ¨Rodopi¨ and a cookie. She began with the ¨Rodopi¨, crushed the film and then he, with gentlemanlike gesture ask to her:
- Give it to me! - he took the little rubish and discarded it in the trash can by the door.
- Thanks! - she said quickly, without looking at him and nodded with rapid movement of the head.
He continued to study her. She was a weak girl, short of stature, with no bust, dressed in checkered slacks with tobacco-brown as the main background and blue light shirt with lateen neckline.
He liked her.
-Ralitsa, you want an item? - the lady-doctor asked in familiar way from her desk.
-No. - she turned it faster.
The nurse brought his certificate, which said that based on so-and-so member of the Labor Code in relation to so-and-so member of the Law of Public Health five days unpaid leave are allowed to him.
They were to go together and he, again beau, opened before her the high solid door with checker ornaments. She waited to catch up together and he went on to the unknown to him corridors. In the beginning they started their conversation with "You", still uncertain that they have found themselves, still uncertain whether they should switch to "Thou".
- Why were you required to give blood?
- And just like that. A few chocolate...
Then he pushed in her hands his own chocolates, which she agreed without hypocrites "Don`t, please!" and "No, thanks!".
"The Freedom Park" was green at the entrance of the faculty, with the "White Cafe"
a little more down, with the alley of hedges right against them, but they went along with the Radio, then on the other side of the street and they turned on the little alley with the iron tennis-table in the direction of "The Blue Cafe".
- Do you want to meet?
She smiled. It was good he had some simple techniques of flirtation.
- I am Iavor.
- Ralitsa. Maybe it would be better to talk to "Thou"?
- After giving blood is good to take more fluids. Would you like to drink coffee or, even better, a coke?
- Good, but not here. - she had in mind not at "The Blue Cafe" where some male pointedly observed them and she found it annoying.
So they continued between "The Channel" and the stadium "Vassil Levski" to the cafeteria of the lake "Ariana".
- We actually daily hang at "The Blue" - she hastened to say. - When we have "windows", do you understand?
- I am a student of law. And what you do?
- We would to talk with "thou", wouldn`t we? I am also confused, sorry! With cytology. This is the science of cell. Mitochondria, nuclei, if you ever heard. In particular, I am a biologist. Cytology is my hobby. There I go to a study group.
- Like the genetics, right?
- The genetics is something else. Aren`t you going to school?
- I was going when I was little. And I forgot everything. How to say to you - we were studying all in French.
She laughed gently and cast a sidelong glance to him. He felt himself well. He could not describe the exact feeling. This girl was different, just different.
- You are a Frenchman, right? The world is small. I was also in the French college. But I was in Spanish class. Do you remember Tsveti Dimitrova?
- The teacher of biology?
- So you know her.
- I read about the project "Humane genome". Tremendous work carried out by biologists and mathematicians. All diseases will be avoided in advance, all people would be geniuses. Do you learn mathematics?
- Yes, we learn it, of course. But, you know, the biologists do their work, the mathematicians - theirs.
They ascended the stairs near the stadium. Then they descended the steep lane. It was nearly eleven o`clock. The lake was dry. They regularly was draining it, for some reasons. The pedalos lonely and sad was laying on the bottom. Behind them the park cast shadows. The sky was blue over the building "Tsarevets". Somewhere there was the confectionery shop "Spring", more prestigious place where, secretly from her, he already intended to take her. Maybe the next time. The sky was blue and the sun - clear. There were somewhere the gallery "Shipka", The Doctor`s Garden, the theater "Sofia", the mastered by the students "Warsaw", the garden of "Crystal", "Theater 199", the cafeteria at the National Theater, "The Ring-Shaped Bun", the garden in front of the "National Palace of Culture", his classmates from the college with their girlfriends and, of course, the movie houses. The life was so beautiful. They sit under an umbrella.
- I don`t know how you will take in this, but get me a sandwich.
He ordered the tail and while waiting, turned to observe her. He observed her impudently, admiring her face, unique, one and only one in the world. Their eyes met and her look, full of suspicion and hope, shining, learning, harsh, sharp as a piece of blue ice, shot him for seconds and he was quiet, she might love him. Blue look of blue-eyes girl, the best in the world, he was very happy, really happy, it was really lucky that he had met her.
He ordered two coffees, two cokes in large cups and two ham sandwiches for her. He decided that he was not hungry.
- So what in particular are you doing except that sometimes you don`t go to classes, as I understand?
- Nothing special, I just go to lectures, to exercises and that`s all.
- It means you have no specific interests. For example, I land up to one of my teacher, I told her that I am interested in cytology and she should help me, and like this. And what will you become when you grow up?
He laughed.
- I don`t know but I will certainly become a writer. I write stories but a long time I have not written anything new. Creative crisis, so to speak.
At that time, they both smoked. She pulled out a cigarette, he presented her fire, then fired his cigarette. He was sitting so as not to bother her with his eyes, assuming that maybe it was interesting to her to watch him.
- So, you will become an investigator or lawyer and you will describe various criminal cases or something like that?
- Something like that.
- Do you know Paul Stanchev?
- He started. She, perhaps intentionally, was affected the most painful chord in each dog, jealousy. The jealousy spiked him, constricted his heart, painful presentiment possessed him as cool breeze in warm day.
- I know him, yes. But I have not yet read anything by him.
Pavel Stanchev was their classmate by the French School, from lower class, who was then known by that he also was writing stories. They accepted him to study Bulgarian Philology and Iavor sometimes was meeting him by chance in the garden of the National University where the students was smoking, chatting, drinking coffee and browsing books in a bookshop-boutique. He was small of stature like her, with blond hair and blue eyes, like her, very suitable. But most likely she was just looking for appropriate general topics to talk about. She was a biologist and he was a lawyer and between these two disciplines it was difficult to find common themes. He experienced hidden respect for her because of her specialty and sometimes he thought it has been a fatal error that he was chosen to study law - too easy and boring subject to him.
If he could start again, probably he would choose mathematics. But it was too late.
- How old are you if I dare ask?
- Sixty and forth. I was born in the year of chess.
- Please?
- Eight times eight is sixty-four. The chess board is a square with side consisting of eight blocks.
- Aha. I think I understand. You are four years older than me.
- Sixty-eight?
- And nine. - she fixed him.
- I`ll remember.
She smiled very slightly.
Suddenly, her mood was spoiled. Some people from the neighboring table were broadcasting poor fluids, in the company there were several women also. It was imperceptible, something undefined.
- Do you want to go? - she proposed. - We will sit in the park.
The day was such that all the benches in the park was deserted. It was neither cold nor hot, but it seemed somewhat strange. They chose a bench at the beginning of the park, at striped shadow, out of sight of people. The subject was well known, painted by many masters - rich-green with spots of sunlight anywhere and that created the sense of harmony and piece, as the planet existed only because of them. And no one, how strange - neither mothers with children, nor elders for a walk, or cyclists, even the popcorn machine by the tap was lonely and lifeless along the black trunk of the tree, the operator was missing. The association for a possible kiss was created in him, although the time had not yet occurred and it was still too early to think about it.
- So, you write. - she said thoughtfully. - And who is your favorite author, although it is a trivial question?
- Do you ever hear the name Julio Cortasar, Argentinean?
- I hear it, yes. We study it quickly in classes of Spanish literature. I am not very aware. There was a story "End of the stage" for a woman traveling by car, she enter into an art gallery, she seen a picture. I don`t like it much.
She wasn`t lying because "End of the stage" was recently published in the magazine "Lik", favorite at that time.
- "End of the stage" is a bit opaque - he slightly opposed - but it is typical for Julio Cortasar, one of the favorite themes of whom is the danger, real or imaginary, that imperceptibly trail us from somewhere, due to the peculiarities of the modern life, we feel it with our neck, it makes us nervous, but we have no power to it.
- You speak as a critic. And what music would you like?
- Well, what - he mumbled as was sometimes his habit - rock music. For example - "Uria Heep", "Deep Purple", "Pink Floyd", "Led Zeppelin" and in general - the classics.
- So, you are hippie, right? Not seen you.
He was wearing a completely different way, with high gray cloth boots from West Germany, in gray and white spilled stain slacks also from there and green jacket from Italy, with fabric that was fine imitation of tentage, which sleeves was with zipper, making them easy to remove. Rather like he was as a jack-a-dandy from the nomenclature, removed by a fashion magazine, but in any case he didn`t resemble to a hippie, while continuously he moved between them through the established system of friendly relations and party-meetings.
The hippies had strongly established style - if possibly - boots, jeans, and obligatory, if found - jeans-shirt, the absolutely obligatory jeans-jacket saying their favorite group and a very long hair. And because Bulgaria was communist country at that time, it would be absurd if he, student of law, comply with, even if he wanted, with these very formalized requirements. Rather, she was kind of hippie-lady, with this little negligent style that today was making them a little wrong for each other.
- I also like this music. - she hastened to say. - I like much Janis Joplin.
By Janis Joplin he knew only one piece, but it wasn`t very clear for him if she was taken it from "Slade" or "Slade" was taken it from her. In that time he listened in his home almost continuously some favorite things of "Pink Floyd", of "Deep Purple", "Led Zeppelin" and "Doors", as all his peers. The times were such. The period was a classic one. Gradually, after "Iron Maiden", "ACDC", "Accept", "Black Sabath", it was the contemporary decadence. At that time the new albums slip across the border by unknown channels and passed from hand to hand until they reach each apartment. In Bulgaria acted the Resistance of the Rock. And it was not in good tone if a dating pass without talking about music. But Ralitsa didn`t resemble to Janis Joplin after him. Very recently the "Rose" have been placed at the cinema, a film about a rock star, whose prototype was likely Janis Joplin, but she was not quite her, a Janis Joplin, standing on her knees in the middle of the street, drunk and crying for his former boyfriend: "Where you`re going all, fuck you!" He associated with her completely different movie, but she would be laugh at him if he would tell her: "The pale rider" with Clint Eastwood, with those terrible shooting eyes, whose icy flame she probably was not realized before, very strange indeed, very strange, he was never before seen such eyes.
- Will you remember my phone? - she put up her feet on the bench in typical girlish gesture as if she was in her room and bend them under herself, a gesture which, according to a experienced psychologist convey much.
- I gotta go now, I have hours at the dentist, he will pull my tooth.
At separation she gave him her hand. They divided themselves exactly at the entrance of the Boris` Garden. Left in the grass there were a plate with the name of the first garden-architect, Czech by origin, who was created this park. In several lonely years of his studies Iavor came to know the Boris` Garden during long lonely walks. Maybe it was the end of the loneliness. The whole way home he was repeating her phone number to never forget it.