Коба Цхакая: другие произведения.

herd of albatroses

Сервер "Заграница": [Регистрация] [Найти] [Рейтинги] [Обсуждения] [Новинки] [Помощь]
  • Комментарии: 197, последний от 29/08/2009.
  • © Copyright Коба Цхакая (kobacxak@mail.ru)
  • Обновлено: 17/02/2009. 85k. Статистика.
  • Рассказ: Гватемала
  •  Ваша оценка:
  • Аннотация:
    таина


  • FAIRY TALES FOR LONELY AND FOR OTHERS

    HEARD OF ALBATROSES

       On a sultry day in Augustan old local train is crawling trough the gorge, puffing and rattling along the winding rails. Carriages, heated by the burning sun, greedily suck in the cool air trough their broken windows, during the jerks made by the train, tired after its long journey. It is neither hot, nor cold in the carriages. In the aisles, that have not been swept for ages, over-grown with small oases of grass, passengers are sitting waiting for their far-away stations. At an unbroken window several men are sitting and have lively talk. Some passers-by, attracted by the conversation, with smiles frozen on their faces are listening to them with interest.
       PASSINGER IN BRACES - A woman-tourist returns from Africa. She comes back home and starts howling. She howls and howls, without stopping. "What`s up with you?" her girl-friends ask in surprise. "Oh!" she says weeping. "When I was in Africa, an ape kidnapped me and fucked me in the jungle!" "Well, it`s all over now. There is no use crying!" "Why!" she goes on howling. "He fucked me and then forgot me! Not a single letter, or, at least, a phone call!" Ha, Ha, Ha!
       All laugh. Some people have missed the last words, nevertheless they laugh too.
       1-ST PASSENGER - What? No - What?
       PASSINGER IN BRACES - Ha, Ha, Ha! Not a single or phone call! He forgot me, she says!
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT (laughing) - So you are laughing, aren`t you! But it`s quite possible that all this really happened. When I was on an audit in the mountains (I`m an auditor), shepherds told me about a woman kidnapped by a bear... He had kept her in his den for the whole summer.
       2 -ST PASSENGER - Couldn`t she have ascaped?
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT - I don`t know! (Looking attentively at his companions) They couldn`t have found and killed him until October!.. At first they didn`t want to get into the den, but there was some noise coming from it. When they got inside, they were struck dumb at the sight of a naked woman, who was trying to cover herself with an oak-twig.
       3 -ST PASSENGER - Oh, you don`t say so!
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT (Lowering his voice) - When they took her out of the den and she saw the dead bear, she started roaring like a real she-bear!
       3 -ST PASSENGER - Oh, you don`t say so!
       WOMAN FROM THE BACK SEAT - All of us, women, are just the same. The one who saddles us drives us mad; Eh! And we never know what animal we cast in our lot with.
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT (Learning backwards) - Believe me or not. But I must tell you... In town some women... DU IT - with dogs.
       3 -ST PASSENGER - Oh, you don`t they afraid of getting pregnant doing it with dogs?
       PASSINGER IN BRACES - Of course, they aren`t, old chap. Have you ever heard of a woman getting pregnant from an animal!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - It can be possible and...
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT(interrupting him) - I have some knowledge of medicine!.. I placed my son in a medical college last year! I`d like to make him a surgeon!.. It seems that no such cases have been registered in medical experience! But nevertheless... One can never be sure!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - I do respect medicine, but if one looks info history... Take the sphynx, fox instance - half-woman and half-lion! Or the centaur - half-man and tails! One of such creatures was caught by a legioner and brought to Emperor Sulla. It was yelling so awfully and had such a nasty smell, that Sulla ordered them to let it go!.. Or...
       PASSINGER IN BRACES (to the man in top hat) - but you are joking!
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT - Well, it seems to me you are wrong... All of the come from legends. From hallucinations ! From lies!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - No hallucinations whatever! Don`t you know there is no lie without at least, one grain of truth! Thus one can state, though there is lot of lying, something in it may turn true.
       PASSINGER IN BRACES (to the passenger in top hat) - It seems something is wrong with him! (to the passenger in a tie)Excuse me, what`s your profession?
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - I... I`m an exsplorer , so to say. A detective...
       PASSINGER IN BRACES - A detective! Are you a local police inspector or do you work in the procurator`s office?
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (smiling) - Oh, no! I`m a detective! (slaps his stomach) I don`t belong to any organs! Ha, ha, ha!
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT - So what are you looking for, if it isn`t a secret, of course? Have you lost anything? (laughs)...
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (after a pause) - Jerusalem! I`m in search for Jerusalem! J-E-R-U-S-A-L-E-M! Sure you`ve heard about the Golden City!
       All are surprised.
       1 -ST PASSENGER - Well... I see! You must be a mineral-surveyor! What institute are you from?
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (surprised) - Oh, no, gentlemen! You... I`m an independent detective!
       He rises.
       PASSINGER IN BRACES (ironically) - Please, don`t take offence! We are all passengers here and we would like to know who we are travelling with!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (slowly goes out) - Why do you think you can hurt my feelings? What a ridiculous idea! What I really want is a cigarette! Just to have a smoke! (he leaves)
       PASSINGER IN BRACES - He`s just nuts!
       PASSINGER IN TOP HAT (meaningfully) - The name of the disease is schizophrenia! Exploration mania!

    * * *

       A young man is standing at the open door of the carriage with an extinct cigarette in his mouth, thinking. He is about 25. His name is George. The passenger in a Tie enters. He tries to find a packet of cigarettes in his pocket, but in vain. He looks at George, hesitating. They have something in common. Perhaps, it is the haircut, or maybe the features of the face. One would think they were father and son.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - Do you happen to a cigarette? Excuse me, I`ve left my raincoat in the carriage, and the cigarettes are there, in the pocket. I`d rather stay here! Any matches? (getting a light) Thanks.
       He inhales tobacco-smoke, witching George.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - I hate it when they try to reach your soul with their dirty and clammy hands. I noticed you when they were speaking about the bear and the woman. You face changed and you went out.
       George fastens his eyes on the man`s face.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - Oh, you were there too? Have you anything to do with the event?.. Oh! I`m awfully sorry then! It`s none of my business! Excuse me!
       For some time they smoke in silence.
       GEORGE - Going on business?
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - No! And you?
       GEORGE - No!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - Then on a holiday! In the country!
       GEORGE - No! I`m going to my father`s funeral!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (confused) - What?.. Is father... dead?
       GEORGE (with a sad smile) - Yes, hi is!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (recovering) - Oh, sure. You can`t bury a living... (looks at George) To bury one`s parents is to sow one`s death!.. I`m a detective! I`m in search for Jerusalem!
       GEORGE - I know. I`ve heard it!.. (with a smile) But Jerusalem is in Israel, isn`t it? Why look for it?
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (shaking his head) - I`m looking for the true Jerusalem! The true one, as in the bible! Everything has its reflection, so has our life. We live a double life - this one and its reflection. It`s like day and night! Like the sun and the shade! Here, in this life it can never be destroyed. Nothing can be destroyed in the world of shadows. Shapes are fluid, lake water, there, Shapes are created there by the faith that we have here. In us!.. Perhaps, a shadow of some city will create Jerusalem... It can ever be a shadow of a village! Who knows, maybe we are going to Jerusalem now. (smiles) It`s faith that matters! A strong faith. Then Jerusalem will come to me by itself.
       The last words sound as if they were a joke, somewhat ironically. So George cannot understand whether his interlocutor is fooling him or whether he is serious. The train whistles several times and, slowing down, enters the city.
       GEORGE - Cod help you!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE (shakes his hand) - I`m sorry, indeed. Perhaps, there, in the other world, life is better. Thousands and thousands go there but nobody has ever come back! (with a sigh) It must be better there!..
       The train stops. George gets off.
       GEORGE - Happy journey!
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - Oh, yeah.
       Several passengers get out of the train. The Passenger in a Tie looks at the platform and sees his double, standing at the lamp-post, Wearing exactly the same kind of clothes, as he has on. There is a suitcase and a bunch of plastic flowers in his hand.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - By gosh!
       He shuts door of the carriage angrily. The train leaves. In the forthcoming scenes the passenger in a Tie will be referred to as the "passenger", since this definition is more appropriate for his function, as one will be able to see in the subsequent episodes.

    * * *

       George is slowly walking along the street. Quick footsteps are heard behind.
       (Voiceover) - Stop! Stop! Wait for me!
       Someone seizes George`s hand. He turns and sees the Passenger, short of breath after the run, with a suitcase and flowers in his hand.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - It`s me, have jumped off. Running as fast as I could. I will accompany you! I will! accompany you! I will!
       George stares at him in surprise. Then he turns and continues his walk. The Passenger follows him.
       PASSINGER IN A TIE - I`ll cause you no trouble, but... You know, I remember now. When a person dies. When a person dies! When such a dear man dies!.. There is an instant when a crack appears on the frontier, separating this world from the other one! His soul squeezes in through the crack! And if we are quick enough, we`ll be able to see it - from this life - the other one! And... Perhaps, I`ll also see my Jerusalem! Please, take me with you!
       George seizes him by the shoulder.
       GEORGE - You think I`m nuts too, don`t you?
       He pushes the Passenger, but the latter grips him round the waist and does not let him go.
       GEORGE - Let go! Let...
       He cannot get rid of him. Other passengers witch them with interest.
       * * *
       A short-haired woman in black walks along the edge of the forest. She is about 30.. At some moment she Turns round - there us nobody. She continues her walk. Suddenly a bear`s paw touches her shoulder.
       WOMAN - You!
       She turns round with her eyes full of admiration. A huge brown bear is standing in front of her. Suddenly face darkens again.
       WOMAN - Oh, it`s you, George!
       George is looking at his sister Tamar for a long time. The Passenger is standing behind him. George tenderly takes her in his arms, she resisters for a while, but soon gives up.
       GEORGE - Hello! (touches her hair) - What about your hair?
       TAMARA (looking into his eyes) - He had cut it himself two hours before... before it happened...
       They embrace again. The Passenger coughs in confusion.
       GEORGE (realizing his presence) - Meet my... new friend. This is... my... sister. Tamara!
       The Passenger gives her his hand.
       PASSINGER - I`m very sorry.
       TAMARA - Well, there is nothing we can do about it. All of us are born from death!
       PASSINGER - Yeah, however strange it may seem!
       George, putting his arm round Tamar`s shoulders, goes ahead. Behind him the Passenger is dragging, with a suitcase and flowers in his hand.
       GEORGE (whispering to her) - Nothing can be brought back. We must just remember, wherever we are, we all share a single life. (singing) I`ve returned.
       TAMARA (with sadness) - Yeah!
       GEORGE (kissing her) - Let him stay at Grisha`s! He`s a little bit strange, but... (remembering) Where`s Mom?
       TAMARA - In her room. Wish to call in?
       GEORGE - First put him up and then let`s call in! (changing his mind) No, I`d better see her alone!
       They approach the house. Tamar follows George with her eyes. Then she turns to the Passenger.
       TAMARA - Excuse me, but we can`t put you up at our place. You`ll have to stay here, at the neighbours`. (Looking at him very attentively) You remind me of someone I know very well!..
       PASSINGER (carefully choosing every word) - I also feel as if I`d been here before and had known you!
       For some time they are looking at each other attentively. Then Tamara turns away.
       TAMARA (calls) - Grisha! Grisha!

    * * *

       Grisha and the Passenger come info the yard. Grisha is a peasant of about 50 with a swollen face of a drunkard. He is wearing a baggy sports suit, faded after innumerable washings.
       PASSINGER - Everything is all right, don't bother, I know, there are lots of other things you must do!
       GRISHA - A time will come when there will be nobody to bother you!
       PASSINGER - Excuse me... You know, I`ve noticed a long scar on Tamar`s neck. Can you tell me where`s she got it?
       GRISHA - Hasn`t George told you about it? (with a searching look) She was attacked by a bear.
       PASSINGER - Was it the bear George killed?
       GRISHA (loosing patience) - We don`t kill bears here! They are thick-skinned people, our ancestors!
       The passenger smiles distrustfully. Grisha turns and goes towards the house.

    * * *

       Tamara enters the cellar, she is looking for something, but suddenly the door shuts. Turning abruptly, she sees a dark silhouette of a one-armed man on the wall.
       TAMARA (with a condescending smile) - You have been tread on my heels since your arrival. Why?.. Is there nothing else you can do?
       MAN - I want to tell you that I... (he can hardly speak)but you turned me out! You chucked me out, you!.. I didn`t want to leave!.. I... didn`t...
       TAMARA (coldly) - But you wanted to leave! One should do what he wants!(trying to a bind something on the shelves) Otherwise it would change info a burden with time! And it would make him suffer, and the others too.
       MAN - Isn`t it a burden now? Doesn`t it make me suffer!
       TAMARA - But you are happy, aren`t you? suffering, but still happy! You don`t play the hero`s part any more!.. You`ve found yourself.
       MAN (grabs her) - But I don`t want to live like this!
       Tamara tears herself away and pushes him. He falls down.
       TAMARA -If you wanted to change, you wouldn`t come back!.. You are satisfied with what you have.
       He is lying on the floor, looking at her for a long time, they are silent.
       MAN - Why didn`t you escape from him?
       TAMARA (thinking) - I used to sing.
       MAN - What?
       TAMARA - Because I sang and he listened to me!
       MAN (laughing) - Didn`t I listen to you?
       TAMARA (looking aside) - No! You only eavesdropped! But he did listen (thinking) He did!
       The man and Tamara do not look at each other, they are silent. He gets up slowly.
       MAN - How silly!.. And painful...
       Tamara comes up to the door.
       TAMARA - It is not silly when it is painful. (opens the door) And now, get away, you, shitass bastard!
       The man comes up to the door and stops at the threshold, hanging his head.
       MAN - Eh!
       He leaves. Tamara follows him with her eyes, she is about to cry.

    * * *

       In a semi-dark room George and his mother are standing, he is embracing her. His mother is an elderly short woman. She is rather mistrustful than sad, looking into the faces of the people as if she were checking whether they were really sorry or just pretended.
       MOTHER (in a broken low voice) - It seems I felt you would arrive on the third day and not on the first or the second. But just now (she drops her head) I can`t look into his face. I haven`t even looked at him since he died!.. The women say, they couldn`t have closed his mouth... So that`s the way he is lying there, with his mouth half-open... It seems to me, he will die the moment I look into his face... But so far he is alive!
       George does not know what to say.
       GEORGE - I saw Yura some time ago... Remember you told me he had been killed? But he`s alive.
       MOTHER (looking at him) - Is he?.. Oh, we buried him long ago! Your father drank for the repose of his soul many a time!
       GEORGE (sighing) - We think of a dead man as if he were alive, and of the living one as if he were dead... I want to see him.
       He goes towards the door.
       MOTHER - George! (he turns round) George, I remember now. After your words! I haven`t told to anybody. It`s only you whom I tell it. A doctor was here yesterday to embalm him. I was in the kitchen. I couldn`t bear the sight of it. But I had a look at them through the glass in the door, just moving the curtain a little bit aside, I looked there. The doctor was pottering about his stomach... Suddenly your Dad raised his head a little and looked at the doctor. He noticed that, smiled and said, "Excuse me, but it`s common practice! don`t take it heart". After these words your Dad slowly dropped his head and closed his eyes!.. You hear, George, He dropped his head...
       George is looking at his mother stupendous, there is a lump in his throat.
       GEORGE - Mom! The dead sometimes do it! When there is some nerve in them that is still alive.
       MOTHER (seizing him by the shirt) - What do you mean by "The dead do it?" What can they do?.. If something is still alive in a man, why should we call him dead. Why should we... We bury someone who is alive?.. Just because some people think him dead?.. Yura has been thought to be dead, and you see now. Did anybody else, besides him, know he was alive? Did he let them bury him?.. Well... Then why should we bury Dad?
       George releases himself.
       GEORGE (with energy)- Don`t be silly, Mom! He is dead, understand? Dead!.. We are all dead in some respect and in some respect we are alive. He is dead to us in some respect, so we must bury him! But there are things that are alive in him and these things can`t be buried, no matter how hard we try to. I remember, you said once... (embracing her) Death is the strangest thing in this life!
       Mother releases herself from his arms and looks info his eyes.
       MOTHER - It would be better for you if were dead.
       GEORGE (after a long pause) - For you - TOO.
       George wants to leave.
       MOTHER - George! I couldn`t find any white cloth, so I`ve covered his face with his flowered pillow-case.
       GEORGE - Yes, Mom.
       He goes out. Mother looks at the closed door.

    * * *

       The Passenger quickly enters the room, where Vaniko, Grisha`s son, is sitting at the table with piles of books lying on it. He is about 9. There is something in his look and movements that shows some signs of a mental disorder. The boy is looking at the rotating globe, putting something down in his copy-book. In the other part of the room Vaniko`s Grandma, GriSha`s mother, is lying with her eyes shut.
       PASSENGER - Can you tell me why the Earth is round?
       He comes up to Vaniko and holds out his hand.
       PASSENGER - Hello!
       The boy flaps his hand without rising.
       VANIKO - The Earth... It is... Round... Because it has no corners
       PASSENGER - Don`t be silly!
       VANIKO - Then why is it round?
       PASSENGER - Because we know it is round. Long ago, when we didn`t know it was round, it used to be flat.
       The Passenger past him on the head and smiles.
       VANIKO -You look very much like the man... The one who is dead now.
       PASSENGER - What about the bear killed by George? Don't I look very much like it (roaring) Uh-uh-uh!
       His roaring is very much like the roar of a bear. The boy is frightened, but when he sees the Passenger laugh, he starts laughing too. The noise wakes the old woman.

    * * *

       There is a large candle burning at the dead man`s head. In the corner, on the bookcase, a lamp, covered with a piece of cloth, is shining. George takes a chair, then pulls it to the coffin, scratching the floor with its leg, and sits down. He does not know what to do - to say something or be silent. So before uttering a word he chews it over for some time, evaluating it.
       GEORGE - Hello! (Puts his hand on his father`s hand) God gives each man much as he can bear. I know you are dead... (looks at him for a long time) There is only thing I want to ask you - please, don`t trouble us. We are also to die - each in his time! (rises) I did love you when you were alive (looks at him for a long time).
       Suddenly he takes his handkerchief out of his pocket, pulls off the flowered pillow-case from his father`s face and covers it with his handkerchief. Then he turns and goes away.
       GEORGE - Good-bye.
       Carefully, but firmly, he shuts the door.

    * * *

       A one - armed man of about George`s age stands at the corner of the verandah. It is talking with an eighteen-year old lad, whose face is all covered with pimples.
       LAD - There are 20 tunes on this cassette ... And there are 25 on that one. But the cassette with less melodies contains a lot of classy, sad recordings! Tunes that will make a dead man cry! That`s why it costs two hundred and that one - one hundred and fifty! So it`ll make tree hundred and fifty in all.
       VAKHTANG -Suppose we shall play only this cassette all day long?
       LAD - We buy the cassettes for all burial rites and funerals! The rate isn`t changed. But if you want to add stereo affect loudspeakers. Then it`ll be 500 dollars a day.
       VAKHTANG(haggling) - Wine and food and make it 300.
       LAD (smiling - 500! And nothing else, but mineral water... I`ve got to pay off some debts...
       VAKHTANG - I`m saying it for your sake. Do you think either the dead man or his relatives really need this music?
       LAD - If the dead man needed it, i`d give it to him free of charge. But it`s you who need it!
       VAKHTANG (smiling) - If you must die, then you should die with music! 350! You aren`t supposed to play it yourself, are you?
       LAD (shaking his head) - If you must part, you should part with music. 500 is, really, cheap. Besides, cassettes wear out!

    * * *

       Five old men are sitting on a long bench at George`s house in the village street. The Passenger and Valiko are standing not far from them. The old men are smoking long pipes and talking.
       OLD MAN WITH A MOUSTACHE - Death is nothing else, but a goods` manager, who has come to take the head man`s life! Eh!
       MAN WITH A SHAVEN HEAD - My Grandfather used to say that Death becomes aware of us only when some of our relatives dies. He said: it`s the dead man who tells Death about his living acquaintances. If he hides something, keeps it to himself, Death gets angry and shouts, "If you love them so much, I`ll bring them to you!" That`s why there`re many sudden deaths... The more the dead man tells Death about a person, the better, because Death gets bored of him and doesn`t come to him for a long time... Therefore a famous murderer, an initiator of a war, or a person whom everybody hates lives a long life!.. Death does not need him!
       MEN IN A CAP (in surprise) - Nonsense! I`ve never met a man so kind and just, as your grandfather used to be! Every body loved him, and he lived for 120 years...
       All laugh, except the man in a cap.
       MAN WITH A SHAVEN HEAD - That`s just the case proving i`m right! Because Death can also be bored with love!.. (noticing the passenger) Are you from this village?
       PASSENGER (confused) - No, I don`t think so.
       MAN WITH A SHAVEN HEAD - I think I know you. Whom have you come to see.
       PASSENGER - George. But I`m staying at Grisha`s now!
       OTHER OLD MEN - It seems we know you! Yes, we do!
       PASSENGER (wants to leave)- Then Death may be bored with me too and i`ll live a long life!
       MAN WITH A SHAVEN HEAD (smiling) - Do you think it right!
       VANIKO (hurt) - He knows why the Earth is round!

    * * *

       George appears on the verandah, he lights a cigarette. Vakhtang comes up to him. They embrace. The Passenger does not notice them and goes towards them. George and Vakhtang come info the kitchen. The Passenger does not dare to follow them and comes up to the open kitchen window.
       George and Vakhtang sit at the table drinking wine. On the table there is a jar wine, a plate with pickled cucumbers and a dish full of bread.
       VAKHTANG - What are you thinking of?
       GEORGE - Nothing!.. It seems we haven`t seen each other for ages!
       VAKHTANG - An age and a year!.. (presses his fist to his eyes) Fuck this doggish life of mine!
       GEORGE - You say it as if you were sorry you`ve survived!
       VAKHTANG (looks at him) - I`ve fucked my self two times! Two times! First when Tamar`s bear...
       GEORGE - Stop it!.. Nobody has died a natural life since that event!
       VAKHTANG - Except your father!
       George gets up abruptly. He does not know what to do and goes to the glass door with a lowered curtain.
       VAKHTANG (pouring wine) - When we were retreating. We met a girl on the road. She was pregnant! Five month pregnant... We were left alone with her for several hours. We were sitting in a shell-hole! For several hours. With no food... We were awfully hungry... and... You know what she began doing?
       GEORGE - What?
       VAKHTANG - She began eating the ground!
       In the dead man`s room mother is standing with loose flowing hair, smiling happily. She does not notice his look.
       VAKHTANG - With all the grass, roots, rotten leaves - she ate it. "What are you doing?" I ask her. "Don`t be surprised." She says, "It wants it," she says! "Who wants it?" I ask...
       Mother hangs her head and touches the dead man.
       VAKHTANG - "He needs it!" She says. And points to her stomach. "But you may die, you, fool!" She smiles and says, that pregnant women sometimes want to eat the ground...
       Mother kisses him full of passion.
       VAKHTANG - She had been eating for half an hour! Swallowing it with appetite... "What does it taste like" I asked. You know what she answered? Do you? "It`s just delicious!" She said. I was frightened!.. Frightened again and I ran away!..
       The Passenger is standing under the windows; a child`s laughing somewhere; the Passenger slowly approched another window. In the room Tamara is decanting milk from her breast, collecting it in a small bottle. A girl is looking at her with astonishment. She laughs loudly.
       TAMARA - Hush!.. Why are you laughing?
       GIRL (pointing to the milk) -Your milk is exactly the same color !
       TAMARA - What do you mean by "exactly the same color "?
       GIRL - As the ordinary, cow`s milk.
       TAMARA - And what did you expect?
       GIRL - I don`t know. Maybe pink or light blue, or yellow like honey. (laughing)But not white! Who is this milk for?
       TAMARA (angrily) - It`s none of your business. Is your tongue too long for your teeth? Get away now!

    * * *

       The Passenger is thoughtfully looking at the sky. Sounds of thunder can be heard.
       VANIKO - The sky has a cold is coughing.
       PASSENGER - You think so?
       Vaniko comes up to him and they two look at the sky.
       VANIKO - The sky has been switched off now, but in the morning, when we wake up, God will switch the sky on and it`ll start shining!
       PASSENGER (smiling) - What do you think the sun is?
       VANIKO - The sun?.. It`s a lamp!
       The Passenger thinks for a while.
       PASSENGER - Would you like to follow me?
       VANIKO - Oh, yes, I`d like to! But Grandma won`t let me go!
       PASSENGER - Why not?
       VANIKO - Because... I am to close her eyes, because I shan`t be able to do it! Heat enters the dead man`s body through his open eyes and this does not let him die in peace!
       PASSENGER - We can escape at night!
       VANIKO (with a sigh) - I can`t! I can`t leave Grandma...

    * * *

       Mother, George and Tamara are on the verandah.
       GEORGE - The weather is so oppressive! A nervous day!
       TAMARA(with a vacant look) - Both the day and weather depend on what we feel. They both reflect our mood and our feelings!
       GEORGE - You are speaking like a philosopher.
       MOTHER - After your father`s death l`ve become unwanted... A passing unwanted thing.
       GEORGE - Don`t speak like this! Mon!
       MOTHER - Oh, there is nothing new in what I say! I also used to be like you... After my father`s death I was constantly thinking of my mother`s death! Because they two used to be like one to me and each one like two. The second half was due to be in the same place where the... the first one was. That was the way I had been brought up. That`s what I`ve taught you too! (she enters the house)
       GEORGE - Oh, ma!
       Tamara hides a smile. Grisha and one of the neighbor enter.
       GRISHA - George! We have some business with you! (comes up to him) It`s pretty awkward to speak about it. But I`ll ask you plainly - How many glasses of wine did your father order us to drink for the repose of his soul? How many?
       GEORGE (does not understand) - Who ordered?
       NEIGHBOUR - Well, your father did.
       GEORGE - Did he order anything?
       GRISHA - I don`t know, perhaps not! But there is a rule. That`s the way they usually say it!
       NEIGHBOUR - As if it were a will announced by the relatives, they usually order 12, 9, 7, 5 three toasts. How many do you want us to drink?
       GEORGE - Is it so necessary?
       GRISHA - Law is law!
       GEORGE - Then let it be three!
       Grisha and the neighbor are about to leave.
       GEORGE - Grisha! What`s my friend doing?
       GRISHA (smiling) - He`s sleeping in the room, wit my son and my mother! A little bit alien here! rather strange!
       GEORGE - I1ll go and have a look at him!
       GRISHA - You may! Will you be able to find him without me?
       GEORGE - Oh, yes!

    * * *

       Tamara and mother are in the room. Tamara is trying to find something in the wardrobe. Mother is spreading a blanket on the table and heating the iron.
       TAMARA - Which suit, Mon?
       MOTHER (venomously)- The one he was going to put on at your wedding!
       TAMARA (angrily) - Oh, Mon!
       MOTHER (nervously) - Do what I tell you! I hate hearing your voice... You think I don`t know where you gad about at night?
       TAMARA - Where I gad about?!
       MOTHER - Why are your boots wet every morning? Do you remove the forest mud? Why are they wet?
       TAMARA - Because you always poked your noses into my affairs! Oh, how I hate all of you!
       MOTHER(slaps her in the face) - What do you expect, you, animal. What?
       Tamara, biting her lip to repress tears, takes the suit out of the wardrobe.

    * * *

       George slowly goes upstairs to the verandah and stops at the open windows. There is a large vase with plastic flowers standing on the windowsill. The Passenger and Vaniko are trying to fix little candles to their pettles. Grandma is looking at them Attentively.
       PASSENGER - At night flowers shine like candles in that town... The town is not far from the sea.
       VANIKO - The sea? What does the sea look like?
       PASSENGER - The sea? It`s like the sky, but not overhead, but under your feet! And the sea is wet!
       VANIKO - Is the sea wet? What about the sky?
       PASSENGER - No, it`s light and high! And the sea is wet and deep. That`s the difference between them!
       VANIKO - I wouldn`t look for this city just the sake of it. Besides, the sky may be wet too, when it rains!
       GRANDMA - Why should you search for a city where none of your relatives is buried?
       PASSENGER - Why should they be buried?.. Let the dead stay with the dead and the living with the living.
       GRANDMA - It`s the dead who connect us with the earth. It`s not that we give roots - we grow out of them. They are our seeds! If the seed does not die, it won`t give any fruit! One should die for the life to continue!.. And what do you do?
       PASSENGER - The soul has no seeds! It has only a spark!
       GRANDMA - What`s the difference? Both of us are saying one and the same thing, but I`m looking down info the earth, while you look into the sky. No matter where we`ll be buried! It may be here or there! None of us will be left on the surface - that`s the main thing!.. I think the grave is just a door, behind which there is something you have been looking for!
       PASSENGER (thinks for a while) - I don`t know! There is only one thing I can say, everyone must breathe his own sir!
       GRANDMA - Right you are!
       George slowly goes sway from the window. He is smiling.

    * * *

       It is night. George is lying in his bed and smoking. A warm breeze, coming through the window, stirs the light curtains. The silence is suddenly interrupted by a woman`s whisper, sounds of branches being broken and a muffled roar of a bear. George gets up quickly and comes up to the window. In the yard, at the apple-tree, his father is standing, waving his hand to him. George is frightened, he steps back, but then, suddenly, with all his might he gathers full speed and jumps out of the window.
       There is nobody at the apple-tree, but the grass is trampled down, so that somebody has stood there. George looks round - there is nobody there. He goes along the trampled grass that brings him to the house. He runs upstairs and enters the house.

    * * *

       Mother is in the entrance hall with a telephone in her hand. She looks at him in surprise.
       GEORGE -What`s happened?
       MOTHER - What`s happened, George?
       GEORGE (in confusion) - Nothing! It was only my imagination!
       MOTHER (smiling) - Your imagination!.. Someone`s called! And...
       GEORGE (interrupting her) - Go to bed, Mom!
       He enters his room.

    * * *

       George is lying on the bed. Mother enters with a candle in her hand, she sits down at his side.
       GEORGE - What`s happened, Mon?
       MOTHER - Someone`s called! From your Dad`s office, it seems! A very angry voice! Insisted on presenting some documents - I was taken aback! I said he was dead! But the man in the phone burst info Laughter (smiles)... He asked me to tell your father not to be silly and phone him to-morrow! Or he`d show him how to die! And he hung up!..
       GEORGE - Some lunatic, perhaps...
       MOTHER - I don`t think so!
       GEORGE (suddenly remembers) - How could they have left his mouth open! Why didn`t the idiots see to it on time.
       MOTHER (echoing) - Why didn`t the idiots see to it ?
       George looks at her with astonishment. She bends over and kisses him the same way she kissed her dead husband.

    * * *

       The table are placed under SHED. At the and of the tarpaulin shed some people bustle about - arranging the plates, cutting bread and pouring wine info bottles. The Passenger is holding a ladder with Grisha on it, who is attaching a loudspeaker to a post with nails on it.
       VOICES CAN BE HEARD - Look who has come. Where have you been? Fallen from the moon, fellow ? Any news? Will you recite something, old chap? Forgive us, will you?
       There, behind the Passenger, where the voices are coming from, under the shed, a fellow in a dirty torn shirt is standing with his hand raised, calling for attention. The people look at him smiling. We shall call him the "fellow".
       FELLOW (loudly) - "About Death that Could Not Tell The Time!" A poem! Written by Muse! Recited by ME!
       VOICES - Come on, fellow! Go ahead!
       The fellow smiles, he is pleased. Suddenly, putting his fist under his chin, he shuts his eyes.
       FELLOW (begins in a low voice) - One day I was sitting in the street, looking at the grass, shooting through the asphalt. I was sitting and looking at the walls of the houses with grass shooting out! Sitting in the street and watching the grass that has shot out on the balconies! One day I was sitting in the street, watching the grass that has shot out on the roofs of the houses! And wondering, I wondered - I was sitting in the street, looking at the grass!.. The grass growing in wrong places! I looked and wondered! Then I asked my self - once when I was sitting in the street looking at the grass growing in wrong places - fellow! Didn`t you have the same kind of grass in a pot at home - you watered and cherished it every day, but it finally withered. Didn`t you take care of it with so much love, day after day? Look here now! Every second someone passes by, Trampling it down, spitting at it - and God knows what else they do! But it`s alive and it grows. Maybe God was hurt - I thought - by the grass that wouldn`t grow in my pot?.. I was sitting in the street one day, wondering in wonder at the grass growing in wrong places!.. And then! I, Understood! Much care! Much love! Much cherishing kills life! Well, not that it kills! IT MAKES LIFE LAZY! And life being lazy - isn`t it death that can`t tell the time, coming without knowing when to come!.. I was sitting and wondering that I was sitting in the street, wondering in wonder at the grass shooting in wrong places! What a bloody fool I had been!
       He shuts his eyes and drops his hands; He is silent for some time. The people are silent too, with smiles frozen on their faces. The fellow opens his eyes and takes a plastic bag from the back pocket of his trousers.
       FELLOW - Thank you for the attention! And for my thought that I`ve given you, you must give me some money from each person!
       The Passenger looks at the fellow as he passes the people.
       PASSINGER (to Grisha) - Who is this man?
       GRISHA (coming downstairs) - It`s our little genius! The local fool! His father was ill with syphilis when he made him! They say he has dropsy in his head! His brains are watery! He`s water brained!
       PASSINGER -I`d like to meet him.

    * * *

       George is wearing exactly the same kind of suit as the Passenger. He is standing by the tables. An elderly man comes up and greets him.
       MAN - I`m very sorry, indeed! Your father was an excellent man!
       GEORGE - Thank you!
       MAN (hesitating) - Excuse me, but I have some ticklish business with you... But maybe some other time?
       GEORGE - I`m listening to you!
       MAN (after a pause) - Last night... you mother phoned me!
       GEORGE (surprised) - Last night?... She phoned you?
       MAN (with animation) - Yes! She seems to be broken-hearted after the event, and... She must be overtired! She asked me not to relieve your father of his post. She said that some people had wrong ideas about it, but that I should know that his nerves were still alive! As for the documents - they wouldn`t be lost, and he would give them back to me himself! I grew angry, I thought somebody was fooling me... I hope you don`t misunderstand me... Please, don`t! But I was very much surprised!
       GEORGE (in confusion) - Thank you!.. Your fly is open.
       The man looks at it in astonishment, then fastens it, blushing.
       MAN - Excuse me! I understand it!.. You should take care of her!
       GEORGE - Thank you! Good-bye!
       The man leaves. George follows him with his eyes, then taking a cigarette out of his mouth, goes home.

    * * *

       Behind the shed, under the apple-tree, the Fellow is sitting on a store. In front of him, on an old newspaper, there is a fair piece of boiled fish and some bread. The Passenger comes up to him just when he is drinking wine from a jar.
       PASSENGER - Excuse me! May I?
       The Fellow looks at him with irritation.
       FELLOW - No, you mustn`t!
       PASSENGER - Why?
       FELLOW - That`s why!
       PASSENGER (trying to explain) - You know?
       FELLOW - I don`t know!
       PASSENGER - Do you remember me.
       The passenger looks at him with hope. Some dim memory flashes in the fellow`s eyes, but dies out right away.
       FELLOW - I don`t!
       PASSENGER (with vexation) - Oh, good!
       FELLOW - No, it`s bad!
       The passenger waves his hand.
       PASSENGER - Good-bye!
       FELLOW - Hello...(follows him with his eyes)Smart-asses! (drinks).

    * * *

       George is standing on the verandah, smoking. Mother comes up to him, smiling. She presses his head against her breast and kisses him on the temple.
       MOTHER (in a whisper) - He is alive, he is! He had such a face before you arrived, that... You saw it yourself... And now he is smiling! Don`t look at me like this. Go and see it yourself! There is something spiritual in his face!..
       Mother puts a white handkerchief in his breast pocket - she has just brought it. George straightens abruptly and runs into the horizon with a smile. Several seconds later George appears, there is astonishment in his face.
       GEORGE (whispering) - He is smiling, indeed...

    * * *

       Tables are laid. The people have already had a good drink. Grisha is the toast-master. He has a glass full of wine in his hand and is making a speech in a trembling voice. He is clean - shaven, but there is a small square piece of paper, carefully cut out, on his chin.
       GRISHA - God created Adam and breathed in his spirit info Adam`s body. He divided his soul - the spirit given to him by GOD - among them. They, in their turn, shared it with their children. The latter passed it to theirs and so on. The larger the number of people became, the less divine spirit, inherited from Adam, each one had. But humankind continued growing. Everything is to die in this world, but the soul is immortal! If we are united, like now, when we`ve come to the funeral, the first spirit consolidates and so its total becomes the soul of the first man. The first one! Adam! The same is true for children, if they are gathered together, their souls unite and their total will give the soul of their parents! Both of them, since they are two in one, one in two... So let`s raise this cup to George and Tamar. Let them endure the past worthily and let them think of the future. There is a time for everything. It is the only thing that helps us to live! (drinks)
       Vakhtang helps out the drunk passenger.
       PASSENGER (to Vakhtang) - They think if find it, they`ll find it too! Oh,Oh, NOO! They don`t understand - what really matters is to enter it and not just to find it... If you don`t look for it, you`ll never enter it!

    * * *

       Vakhtang leans the drunk Passenger against the wall and feels somebody looking at him. He raises his eyes and sees Tamara who is looking at him out of the window, smiling. He hangs his head and goes up into the house as if he were sentenced to death. He enters the room, takes a double-barrel out of a small wardrobe near the window and charges it with cartridges from a tin box. Tamara comes in. He notices her.
       VAKHTANG (smiling) - It`s the same one! (pointing to the gun)
       TAMARA - The same one.
       He cocks the trigger and puts the gun against his stomach. For some time he is just staring, with his tense look passing from the gun to his trembling hands. Meanwhile Tamara sits down in a chair near the door. Then, with resolution, he reaches the trigger with his fingers.
       TAMARA (slowly and quietly) - You believe, if you kill yourself, I`ll tell everybody, you`ve done it because of me... end in my presence! And make a hero of you?! Don`t play this game. I`LL TELL NOBODY ABOUT IT! And I`ll leave, so that nobody will learn anything... And your death will be as incidental, as your life has been...
       VAKHTANG - You are ironical not about me. You are ironical about your-self!
       TAMARA (getting up) - You are me, aren`t you? And we are life, aren`t we?
       VAKHTANG (with energy) - No, you are not life! You...
       TAMARA (comes up very close to him) - You could have been my best girl-friend, but you are not a... You are a man!
       VAKHTANG - You are laughing.
       TAMARA (touches his face) - What are you doing... (kisses him) What are you doing.
       VAKHTANG - Your lips are dry.
       TAMARA - And yours are slippery!
       VAKHTANG (lowering the gun kisses her) - To slip along your neck!
       TAMARA (talking the gun away from him) - No! (pushes him) Rather to slip away!
       VAKHTANG (leans against the wall and laughs) - Do you think it`s easier to live a coward`s life, than to die a hero`s death?.. It`s more heroic to live a coward`s life...
       TAMARA - Why did you live me there and run away? Were you afraid of the be... (slaps him in the face). It was for your sake that I stayed with him.
       VAKHTANG ( dumbed ) - You stayed with him for my sake!(he sinks to the floor) Me... Me to!... (hides his face in his hands) But he`d appeared so unexpectedly, and was so big!

    * * *

       George is half-drunk in his room, he is going to have a smoke. Suddenly he hears some footsteps and a woman`s whisper. Without thinking, he jumps out of the window and knocks down his sister.
       GEORGE (in surprise) - You? Where to?
       TAMARA (angrily) - It`s none of your business.
       George rising, seizes Tamar`s hand.
       GEORGE - Where are you going?
       Tamara tries to release herself.
       TAMARA - Let go! That`s my affair!
       GEORGE - But...
       TAMARA - You know nothing. And you are nothing, and I am nothing! Neither you, nor I can do anything. Understand! We are just driven! Driven! Let go! (struggling to break loose).
       GEORGE - So where are we driven to!
       Tamara pushes George and he falls down. She is free now.
       TAMARA - To the earth! To one`s own self!(laughs) Understand! I`ll come back at dawn! Be careful, don`t catch cold!
       She goes away, laughing. George rises slowly and follows her with his eyes.

    * * *

       George is standing at the same place, he is wearing exactly the same kind of suit as that of the Passenger at the beginning. The Passenger appears on the road, wearing his suit, with a suitcase. George overtakes him.
       GEORGE - Leaving?
       PASSENGER - Yes!
       GEORGE - At night?
       PASSENGER - Night is better. I`ll be far away in the morning! Thank you for everything you`ve done!
       Shakes his hand. George does not let him go.
       PASSENGER - And what are you doing here?
       GEORGE - Waiting for the dawn!.. Well, have you found a crack between the worlds?
       PASSENGER (staring at him) - I have!
       GEORGE - So where is your Jerusalem?
       PASSENGER - Mine? Mine is between the words!
       GEORGE - Mine too?
       PASSENGER - I don`t know! Try to find it! I`ll just give you a piece of advice! Look for it in places where you most strongly wish it not be found!
       GEORGE (parting) - Adieu! Good-bye!.. It looks like rain!
       PASSENGER - Yes! (goes away, but suddenly stops) I forget to tell you - my name has also been George!
       GEORGE - But why should one look for it there?
       The passenger slowly walks among the trees, then he disappears in the mist. A sound of a bear`s roar is heard. George lights a cigarette and suddenly sees that a window in Grisha`s house is shining. Vaniko is standing there, looking with surprise at the candles burning on the flowers.
       VANIKO - Grandma! Do you think Albatrosses fly there?
       GRANDMA (with irritation) - Yes! A whole herd of Albatrosses. They beat their wings so loudly, that it seems a thousand of men are clapping their hands!
       VANIKO (blissfully) - Do they?
       A distant sound of a great number of wings beating can be heard.
      
      
      
      

    COLLECTOR OF FEARS

       Water, sand and rotten blackened leaves with broken branches and dried flowers raised by wind covered the sky with a dirty - grey shawl. The rain poured down non-stop and it seemed it would flood everything. But the water piling up in streets would suddenly disappear. Mother told him that "this very moment the earth opened its mouth and gulped it down" and when the boy, thinking the earth was like a boy like himself, only with rough skin, would ask his mother:
       - "Won`t the earth choke?"
       The mother would laugh loudly and nervously. Sometimes, au worn out and soaked with sweat, she wend add maliciously:
       -"Let it choke and be swallowed by earth!"
       At night, when they would wrap themselves in yellow cellophane and try to fall asleep, the boy, closing his eyes, saw a huge stone ball on blue ground which kept falling all the time. Fearing the ball might break into pieces the boy would clasp tightly to his mother`s bosom swallowing the sweet smell of her sweat and would peacefully fall asleep.
       They could not get rid of the insects creeping up stains out of flooded cellars and streets.
       They were only two left in that immense house - a mother and a son. Others had moved to nice, light flats in a new white district. Mother called these flats "coffins, only plastered and disguised". Stroking her son`s head who was standing at the window she added:
       -"People do not live there, they die there! It is impossible to live beneath somebody. A man should have the earth beneath him and not somebody`s family, above him - GOD and not somebody`s dirty slippers."
       They lived on a small hill high above the town. The citizens called it "departing" and really, the top of the hill came forward and looked like a departing man in a mackintosh.
       The boy would stop at the window and would look down at the town which at night turned into a huge white ship and he would sigh as all children do when their holidays are over.
       And there below, out of the new flats with the nigh white ceilings and white fridges full of cool ripe fruit and fat sausages, with mahogany beds, with phones and hot water and even with color TV-s, the old man, bearded and wrinkled with bony and hairy fingers would came and tell weary inhabitants - either children or grown-ups-various stories:
       -"I want to tell you my brethren!"
       He would begin each new story with these worlds uttered in a deep, soft voice, sp weak that could hardly sound:
       - "That all our fathers lived under clouds and traveled the sea which cracked like the nutshell, showing up its soul - dry, clean bottom to the surprised gazes of our ancestors, its soul-covered with millions, billions of pearls as ting as tears, as white as the blood of a fig. Its soul longed to bear the footsteps of our fathers and the burden of human dreams wishing to reach the unattainable land. This soul desired to sprinkle with human sweat, heavy and sparking as dice, to suffer and be refined. Emerging from the bottom of the sea our fathers din`t reach the land but they found only dirty-brown vile slush - the only remnant of the world! Of our inhabited world! Everything turned info a mud? Non because it rained much or because the water burst its banks, no! The earth get impregnated, soaked with human tears. These humans were other fathers, not ours! They wished, longed, craved for and loved the sea, sea weed, seashells, fish and crabs as flat as marmalade. Saucers but they did not deserve it! They did not have the right to stamp on the bottom of the sea! Love alone is a right, is it>? Not understanding why they left annoyed... Leaving our fathers under this perishable sky! Under these clouds! Where did they go and why? Nobody knew! When you love and you are not loved and you want to be loved and you don`t know why everything is not as you wish, you have to shrink into your shell! When you want to call somebody you call him and he turns to you! But it you love, he will not hear and will not even turn! It`s you who turns! But why, why is it so? This they did not understand and they went. Nobody knows why. Oh, it`s impossible to guess where the worm creeps until you yourself knock it down!.. Oh! "
       There were other children. But them house where they lived did not retain any reminiscence of those houses and flats with rose bud wallpapers with dense smell of the newly cut roses covered with dew... The boy passing through lengthy streets would smell these roses with his tiny nose and like a blind man he would walk with closed eyes. The got used to this so much that he could walk like this for long, long time and when the smell began to fade away, he guessed that the houses ended and long, endless routes had begun instead where buses buzzed like beetles and lorries bellowed like frightened cows. These routes had a pungent unpleasant taste like the one you have when you`re affected with quinsy...
       There was nothing left in their house but the old mattress stretched in two, nailed to each of the doors. Instead of legs this bed had rusty door handles. To cheer up her boy the mother would hang a thousand paper angels on the ceiling on Sundays. Thy boy called them "Pasture of Angels", The would greet each of them when walking in this "pasture".
       - Mother, GOD must walk like this. The earth for the sky is like the mirror on the ceiling, isn`t it so?
       - Maybe, - The mother would grow sad, - This way everybody would seem dull and almost one and the same! And to pity someone is not very easy!
       - Mother, he has angels, doesn`t he? - The boy would laugh and blow at the angels hung on the thread. Angels are his fingers and eyes!
       - If he has fingers and eyes this means that he has the right not to see and not to feel something, - She would go to the yard and would sit near the apple tree and would watch a long chain of white blue mountains...
       On Monday morning the angels would disappear into the wooden box...
       - Watch out, the water may get into the stove and it may blow out !
       Cried the mother sweeping white, black, brown, red insects with and without moustaches, with and without wings off the floor. She would gather them in a big green enamel pot where before cheese was kept in salt water. Having gathered the insects she would throw them into the smoldering store which looked like burning wet rag. The insect chapped and burst like millions of tiny bubbles splashing around dense drops and yellow-like pus.
       The boy was called "small box" and the woman - "chaste". And why they were called so-it is a long story, but worth telling.
       The buy was called "small box" because he always had a small plastic box for a diamond ring with a button in his pocket. The box was golden. It looked seedy because of careless handling. But the rays of sunset lit it up with a red flame and it blazed like a fireplace on the tiny palm of the boy. Other boys said that the box gave out warmth like a caudle. And really, on a hot day it would blaze and shine like the sun.
       Before falling asleep the boy would carefully wrap the box in his shorts and would put it under the mattress. Even in his sleep he felt a little hard hump under his body and it made him happy. It seemed to him that the box ticked on his back like a clock. He dreamed of huge balls and he clasped to his mother`s warm hand.
       The boy would not allow anybody to hold his "box". Even when he swam or played basketball he would hold it with his tiny film fingers and though he felt inconvenient, still he would swim and play with pleasure. When somebody annoyed him he would squeeze the box with his left hand and striking his offender with it he would hiss through his teeth:
       - "I will bang it on your head! Go away!"
       The frightened offender would either run away or step back like a shadow in not midday. And the boy would raise his head and at a slow, self-confident pace like a horse of a conqueror, he would go to the river where the trees washed their shadows on the flowing surface of the water. And the boy, with his hands held up, would turn ether to the left or to the right, thus washing the dirt off his reflection which might have stuck to it during the day. When asked what he was doing, he would answer quite earnestly:
       - I`m washing it!
       - But it is a shadow! - His friends would laugh.
       - Doesn`t a shadow need washing? It needs its! More dirt sticks to shadows than to boots, that`s why they are black! I`ll waoh it and it will become brighter.
       After this his friends would stand in a row to make sure whose shadow was brighter. It would turn out that his shadow was a dirty-milky color and theirs a dark-brown.
       There were cases when travellers or convicts fled? Here? Or prostitutes - unwanted, withered like dried up apples, found them selves in this town forgotten by everybody. They did not know who that boy was and what his box meant, a little piece burning on the boy`s hand like the heart on fire. They would ask passers-by, citizens or just somebody. Instead of an answer they received a kind smile like salesmen do to their customers, or an invitation to "Sakhinkle" or to an expensive "Shashlik House". There to the accompaniment of folk instrumental groups, the musicians mainly being retired warraut officers, they would each drink a bowl of sparkling wine and would change the topic of their conversation, for instance, to politics. The topic of their conversation, for instance, to politics. And after, with their heads heavy either from wine or from sweet long speeches about the hub of the universe or about breathing clouds and the dead living, they would forget about everything and having learnt only one word out of the local language they would bellow like wounded oxen -"Genasvaleee!" And so much suffering, so much misunderstanding, so much paint did this word express that the quests could not help shouting this one word and weeping on all fours they would creep out of this ill-fated town.
       But there those who managed to ask the boy about its origin and about the purpose of his magic box:
       - What does your box mean, boy?
       The boy would flash like a lit match hearing this question. Two crossing rainbows would appear in his eyes (or maybe this only seemed to those who asked this question) and in a queer hoarse voice swallowing saliva after each word, he would answer:
       - This is not box! This is my father`s fist! Squeezing the box with his hand he would add:
       - My box is firm! But the wind can spill it because it is ashy!
       Turning away from a surprised curious person still smiling he would walk at a general`s pace along the dirty rocky street...
       After these words the whole town would get impregnated with the smell of burning flesh. Everybody would hear groans coming out at the depths of the earth. Streets, houses, trees and people would be covered with a pungent haze. And a curious stranger clenched fingers, burning like a torch over the heap of coal remaining from the human body.
      
       1) Kind a pub in Georgia where "khinkali" - a very widely spread Georgian dish served.
       2)Shaslik - pieces of pork or mutton roasted on a spit.
       3)A Georgian word not literally translatable. It expresses much love, care of a person towards his beloved.)
      
       * * *
       This very moment all inhabitants of the flashing town ran off to their houses and weeping hid their faces in fluffy pillows, remembering the awful and dreadful day in the year of the "Dragon", in the month the of "Aries", Monday , when father "box" burned himself near the bookshop where dogs used to walk before, dogs with carded manes and with cherishing gazes at passers and grandmas with admiration. The birds used to foul smartly combed salesmen and customers. The letters congratulated each other with their previous long wealth...
       And this happened because rumor is the daughter of slander and slender is the child of a humans full up with something. People look like fat birds. Fat birds do not fly, do trey? And full up ones-even more. A life without flight-just dinners, dinners, dinners.
       - Oh, people - cried the father "box", dressed in a gilded uniform of sea foam color , with silver epaulettes and a dirk of fine gold with an amber grip, - What do you want! Isn`t my faith enough for you?
       Dirty sweat tickled down his bristly chin and dripped the zinc bucket filled with petrol. It shone like the skin of a dead shake.
       - Don`t you understand that this is possible! I believe in this. I believe this. Steel spurs on his high-heeled boots sparkled like sparklers. - Is it impossible to believe that my wife became pregnant from her beloved husband without seeing him for two years? If we two longed for this! Love does not have a barrier, does it? If you believe that having fallen asleep you will surely wake up, then why don`t you believe this? Oh!
       He cried. The inhabitauts smiled condesceudingly and muttered something like fools who think they`re the cleverest of all.
       - Maybe love doesn`t have barriers but the nature does have its laws, doesn`t it? There laws are superior to love! They tried to call to mind something they had forgotten at they couldn`t manage it. They all saw how the captain took up the bucket full of petrol and poured it over himself. His uniform caught fire and he himself held up his fist. The inhabitants frozen in terror would smell the dense stinking smoke of burning flesh. The mighty body of the captain collapsed on the asphalt.
      
       * * *
       Nobody could believe this. But meeting the pregnant wife of the captain in the street nobody would throw stones at her any more and even the children would not laugh at her. But she would always feel with her back the superior gaze of a hunter at her still-alive victim. And when asked.:
       - How are you, poor? She would stop for a while and carefully regarding the questioner would answer: - Time will show!
       Soon she gave birth to a plump baby who looked like a heap of peeled oranges. And then they noticed a birth - mark under his left nipple the same one that his father had and at the same place. It was shaped like a running deer with ting horns or maybe a calf. Yes, surely, a calf.
       The citizens were now convinced at the rightousness of the captain and his poor wife, to make up with her and they erected a statue a marble hand with a torch on the very place where the captain burnt himself and called this statue:
       "Pedestal of a Belief of a Husband in his wife`s Chastity"
       The poor wife in honor of the pedestal was called "Chaste"...
       Even during the time the light was so unsteady and mat because of the rain that the woman could not clearly see through the window: what was there stirring outside or sometimes mourn fully groaning on the verandah of the next door empty flat? Sometimes she thought this only seemed so to her, as this was only the sound of the wind, rain and their old house itself, but finally, when the swarm at insects come upstairs, she, all weary and perspiring covered her shoulders with a dirty-green blanket and smoked a dry cigarrette left somewhere by some miracle. She opened the door of the empty room next door and went to the verandah.
       Under the heavy layer of rain which like a transparent curtain protected their house from the surrounding world she glimpsed a tiny girl, soaked to skin with a pale face and two big deep tunnel-like eyes. The girl was wrapped in something dark and was too frightened to stir whining time and again. She seemed either or five years old.
       At first the woman did not believe her eyes but when after a while their eyes met, she noticed deep sorrow, pain and lonliness in the girl`s eyes, unusual for her age. She knocked on the door overlooking the verandah. On hearing the knock the girl clumsily turned around noticed an unfamiliar face disappearing from sight.
       The woman, surprised at her sudden disappearance and not believing her own eyes, hugged the wall in order to catch a batter sight of her. Contemplating the darkness she noticed at last her face like a white spot gleaning under a huge bush of blossoming cactus.
       Soon the boy got tired of sweeping off the insects. He put on his father`s boots and began to step on them. He knocked them down onto the floor so that they left tiny fragments of fragile armours . But he got fed up even with this, so he threw some more dry legs of the broken chair into the stove and went to look for his mother.
       He found her at once: at the glass door of the verandah she stood silently drumming her lips:
       - Mother, mum, what are you doing? - Asked her the surprised boy.
       - Hush! - She murmered. They boy, rising on his toes, looked in the some direction his mother looked, tenderly, like she looked at him when at night he puffed softly and fell asleep.
       And suddenly he saw... He saw! His mouth fell open from astonishment and he wheezed "OOOH", yes, just "OOOH". Over there, in the corner, under the old sinewy blossoming cactus with great thorns like a sword, the cactus which bloomed once in 7 years, a bird with a tiny crimson beak and a golden-plum head and with sea blue eyes was sitting. Black, pearl wings on its smooth salient shoulders reflected human faces like a mirror.
       The bird sat without stirring and looked at them. The boy noticed two thin threads of steam coming out of its nostrils.
       It breathed... The boy felt a sweet, warm smell of fresh milk, honey, pears warmed up under the Sun and the smell of something else, something he did not know but he guessed that it existed as long as he felt it...
       - Mother, but this is a bird! - He muttered with admiration.
       - No, this is a girl! But at the some time this is not a girl! - She smiled tenderly.
       - No, mum, it is a bird!
       - No, boy, in fact this is neither a bird nor a girl.
       The boy stared. He looked first at the thing he called a bird and then at his mum again.
       - But who is she?
       His mother kept silent for a while and then, smiling she answered:
       - This is the face of rain! It always hides itself under a thorny bush.
       The boy was more and more surprised and hugging the glass so that he flattened his nose upon it, he asked again:
       - But why, mum?
       - Because the rain is afraid! When you`re frightened, you want to cry and you cry either deep inside or outside! You hide yourself from others under something and best of all under the thorny bush! - She again drummed her lips.
       - Mum, does a ram have a face?
       - Everybody has faces! Even the strangers! The face of the rain is simply gathered little by little, some where under a thorny bush! We all think that we hold our fears deep in our souls, but no! A soul does not have fear: It jumps out and hides itself somewhere where it might be less afraid! And so they gather little by little, either your fear or wine or somebody else`s! And so on, for thousand times. And as soon as they are gathered, it starts raining, - She sighed and stroking her son`s head she added, - Fears are like water, no use in shedding them and dividing them, - They will still gather together!
       - But why? - She was silent for a long time, listening to the sound of the rain and looking at the flashes of lightning.
       - Those who are not afraid are always lonely! - She sighed again and remembering something she smiled, - Do you see what a pole and pretty face the girl has!
       - But this is not a girl, mum! This is a bird with huge eyes!
       They both became silent and began to stare at the thing sitting under the huge blossoming bush. The woman went on drumming her lips and the boy noticing this, asked her:
       - What are you doing?
       - I`m speaking to her! - She answered without even stopping.
       - And how is that? - The boy got more interested.
       - One can speak with the rain only by drumming one`s lips . You know , the rain understands everything in its own way. It has its own language. It like fear can only knock like a pulse, sometimes it hammers on your temples! And if it wants to know what a human thinks or feels, it begins knocking on his lips, head, shoulders, eyes, hands and it learns everything. The rain is like the fear, despite everything it`s very curious!
       - May i? - And nothing a nod of assent, he rejioced, - but haw can I explain to her what I want to say?
       - You only desire strongly! And your fingers will drum your lips by themselves! Fingers are the eyes of our body, like the eyes are the eyes of out head! You will always understand. The main thing is to desire! A human always understand and hears somebody knock! If he desires!.. Try!
       Thy boy longed to speak with the rain. He looked into her huge eyes and asked something that only he wanted to know. After a while he felt someone`s transparent, wet and cold fingers drum his lips. They him and made him sad. But seeing his mother`s beaming face he got angry. He stood clenching his fist and frowning as if before a fight. He thought: "To hell with her ! Perhaps my mother loves her more than me!" But instead he said:
       - Mum, could we catch her and drag her into our house? Maybe I could play in the yard after it stops raining.
       - No, we could not!
       - Why? We would let her out only when we wanted a little Showering rain! - He insisted.
       - No! - The mother answered coldly. Because this means that you take all human fears and you`ll have to bear them till the and of your life. Day by day they will become more and more! Fears are mostly born on the earth! It is a very painstaking and ungrateful labor to collect somebody else`s fears! - She stroked the boy`s head.
       - I`m not afraid! - Said the boy more furiously.
       - In the and everybody will be afraid of you. Fear cannot defeat the collector of fears! They will kill you!
       "THEY WILL KILL YOU" - The woman said this so mysteriously that boy felt something bark out in his belly. But it was only in the spur of a moment. The main difference between children and older people is that the for men live instantly no matter whether for good or for bad, what matters is that THIS IN NOT ALWAYS...
       Then thy went to bed. Mother soon fell asleep putting her warm and soft hand on the paunch of the boy. The boy had a dream with enormous wings... Suddenly he felt the touch of cold and wet fingers on his lips and confused he sprang up. He woke up and was annoyed because in his dream he was flapping his wings standing on the cliff. Beneath him the sky-blue surface of the calm sea stretched like the carpet. Sweat was rolling down his body and any moment hr would take off his soaked clothes and flying high in the sky with wide spread wings, like an arrow, he would dart into the cool sea. Then he would swim to the place where three dolphins would be waiting for him. Awakened he felt cold and pity that came out of his eyes and turned into tiny salty drops of rain.
       - I`ll teach her a lesson! - Menacingly hissed the boy tightly squeezing "little box", - She does not let me play! The cockroaches are creeping. Out of all corners because of her! And she does not let me sleep!
       Quietly, not to wake up his mother, barefooted he tiptoed to the door of verandah and making sure that she was there, he pushed the door and screaming flange the box at her...
       The box nit her nameless rib and she flapping her not hands, huge like the wings of a flying fish, she shrieked in a voice trembling from pain the one word:
       "EH!" and prolonged it so that the boy felt somewhere inside him that the wheels that had stopped a long time ago sprung into move-went. He understood that something inside him flew in, drummed and somebody`s wet cold fingers knocked on his lips. He grew sad and sorrowful like when one is sorrowful because he does not want more but ne`s still gnen more.
       Not to burst out crying he laid his left hand over his eyes and instead of darkness he saw big ploughed black field with enormous white seeds like eggs. He heard a gritting sound of joints , because of flapping wing...
       And the rain stopped. Only lonely drops fell down in tiny puddle appeared on the wet earth. He remembered the words :"Fears are like water, no use in shredding and dividing them - They with still gather together.
       * * *
       The time passer and the "box" tied up on the mast of the old boat humiliated and beaten, soaked with stinking kerosene waits for the exsecutioner, and strikes a match and when he hears the answer to the question a little girl with huge blue eyes asked him. He stood among market crowd asking everybody to let him have their fears and this, to ease their lots.
       - Mister, do you know everything? - She asked touching his knee.
       - What do you want to know? - He asked smiling.
       - Mister why are wings needed when there are not any? - She asked and ran off laughing. Then he got out of it by turning this question into a silly joke. Sometimes there is much wisdom in nonsense... yes, it is there? ...also it is not there!
       And now watching the match blow out in the exsecutioner`s hand he understood that the wings are not needed, they may only desired. The gravitation law says that everything that is needed loses its worth. And understanding why he was burnt and questing that he was desired by all but not needed he strained from pain which like fiery lava came up to his throat. The only word he could cry out of pure endless feeling for his beloved people now watching him burning was long, prolonged like the honk of engine in endless dark tunnel, that word was "OH!"
       And his remained in the history of the town as OH- MANUEL because his real name was MANUEL and "OH" was added to it in honor of his last life-time word.
       Humans are strange beings. They love smart addings and that`s why he was remembered by all as OHMANUEL.
       P.S. They say those who loved him most off all wrote four looks about his life and many philosophical essays. But their reminiscense is another story.
  • Комментарии: 197, последний от 29/08/2009.
  • © Copyright Коба Цхакая (kobacxak@mail.ru)
  • Обновлено: 17/02/2009. 85k. Статистика.
  • Рассказ: Гватемала
  •  Ваша оценка:

    Связаться с программистом сайта
    "Заграница"
    Путевые заметки
    Это наша кнопка