A куда? Скажи куда, я готова

About thirty years ago, in the age when computers didn't exist, live two children -the Girl and the Boy. They have been living in a part of the country which was well known all over the world as a land of tears- Siberia. People were scared even to pronounce this name, but not the aborigines, especially kids - they loved this place! They were born here, have friends here, nine months a year enjoy a lot of snow and beautiful storms - they never consider it dangerous. They were too young.
These kids were not only friends; they were neighbors, classmates, kindergarten fellows before.
Been neighbors mean to them something else: not only living on one floor- door to door, close to each other for games convenience, but also knowing each others family secrets. The Boy's family didn't have many secrets - it was a "good family" - four brothers, the Boy was the last, admirable child by parents and brothers. The Girl's family wasn't, actually, the family - the stepfather, brilliant surgeon, started drinking and successfully was going to become an alcoholic.
The logic of development of the similar family stories usually was sad: man was going down, but not by himself - the family had been drawn by him, too.
Constant scandals between pissed off mother and drunk stepfather were something usual: the man was coming from the work, sneakily opening the door, hoping went the bedroom invisible. But the mother was expecting him to check- was it true that husband is not having alcohol as he promised at last scandal. So, both of them were disappointed. Next scandal started: the mother trough the doll at stepfather's head, the blood start running down his face, he got mad, and the reaction wasn't late - here they are trying to hurt each other, screaming as animals. These battles always reminded the Girl cat's battles on the basement - it was scary, bloody, and didn't gave anybody around live in peace.
The Girl's had two main tasks- to protect her baby sister from the battle and help her mother if the battle start be dangerous to her. She knew that the parents almost forgot that two little girls are looking at them from the room’s corner sitting at the floor, hugging each other and trembling of fear. But the Girl couldn’t leave the room – she felt responsible for the situation to do not go further and she wasn’t able to leave her sister by herself in the other room. So, she was stocked there, in the corner, looking how two adults behave as furious animals.
When neighbors were pissed off listening to this “amusement” they call a police. Police came, aware the couple to get a time out and left. The stepfather was going to the bed, and mother was going to wash the blood from her face. Nobody of them asked the little girls how do they feel- they were forgotten there, on the floor. Next morning, usually, the mother was sending the Girl to the pharmacy for the treatment for the bruses and call to the University, where she was a Professor, for the sick day.
Everybody adult in the family felt sick, unhappy, destroyed. Locked in their own unhappiness, nobody cares of the girls Older one supposed to take little one to a kindergarten/ then take her from there/, go to school, behave, study well, have a good grades, make a good impression to the teachers because the Mother was going to the same school and didn’t want the teachers to complain about her daughter- she had to be perfect. The Mother never ask why the Girl had a bad grade – she was bitten with a detached from iron wire. Who cares that the Girl was busy whole night, trying her baby sister to stop trembling of fear of the battle? She didn’t have time to make prepare the homework.
And this terrible headache, almost constant that she had, and the hunger, or the hunger and then – headache? And shame for the family. She never looked at the people’s eyes, especially neighbors, she was sure- they hate her family and her personally because she couldn’t stop the battles. She felt responsible for this.
The Boy knew almost all of it- only one wall separates their worlds-totally different worlds. She even couldn’t dream about world like his- it was a Heaven for her. She didn’t deserve it. She was dedicated to her own world – full of suffer and questions “why”.
They had been seen each other on their birthdays, after school they were playing in one back yard, at school his desk was behind hers - blond, brown eyes, in an accurate dark blue suite and white shirt.
She had the only one cotton dress besides the uniform, no choice. Her Mother always cut her hair “a la Garson”, no choice. Her skin was dry, cracked, she hated herself, and she was sure that everything about her disgusting people around her, excluding, probably, her few friends: half Russian, half Gypsy Olga, pure Jewish Irina, buriat Lilia, and boys-friends buriat Dashi and white as milk -the Boy. They were real friends- they knew almost everything about each other, they were together almost all time. And the Baby sister- she was the Girl’s responsibility.
Nothing is for forever. She understood this clearly and cried a lot about this fact. Mother divorced stepfather finally and decided to change her life totally. This means the brutal change to her daughter’s life. But- who cares about the daughters, they suppose only to shut their mouth, study well, do not have any pretentions, wash the floors at home every day, wash  clothes, sew , and cook. Better do not put much salt in the food, or, it will be a scandal. And, be quiet, girls, because if it weren’t you, the Mother would find a man. The Mother decided to escape from the Siberian city and go to Moscow for better life. How to do this? Program for PHD, this is a good future- more possibilities. She was smart, took the exams, here she is – going to Moscow for five years. What to do with a teenager and six years old girls? Off course, they are going to Ukraine, where grandparents move to live, vanished from the Siberian climate. This is Europe. People from former Soviet Union had this privilege to change the climate whenever they decide to do it- the country was huge, all kinds of climate existed on the territory.
Mother with the girls left Siberia for forever.
The girls were blessed for five year, while their mother was in Moscow, living with the grand parents. The blessing was their grandmother. For the first time in their lives they had a family, delicious meal, and warm, wise woman near them. Next step was to find new friends. And to adjust themselves to a grandfather-former colonel from Homeland Security, he continuing been a colonel for his wife, two daughters, and two granddaughters. When he was in mood- thanks God-everybody was happy. But, God forbid, if somebody didn’t understand on time, that he get up with the wrong leg, left one, wow… Everything and everybody was blamed, the Colonel was mad, and his wife was insulted somehow by him, crying into the kitchen, cooking and praying to the God to change his mood sooner. She actually was praying with a hot wish to help her feminine family and herself, even her atheism and belonging to a Communist Party can not stop her to pray for the loving family happiness.
The Girl was suffering for her Siberian friends very much, she felt lonely. She wrote letters to her friends often, but only one girlfriend, Olga, was persistent in contacting her. Olga wrote long letters about Girl’s loving city and friends, sent the photos of classmates in groups, usually taken at the last day of every year, so she can see how her classmates changing, growing, getting mature, so, the Boy, too. He became a very hansom young man. But never wrote the Girl a single word. The Girl had all information about every classmate from Olga’s letters and photos to a moment when she married had a son born with a heart problem. She stopped answering the Girl’s letters, she was desperate.
The Girl turned into a tall, slim, beautiful woman .She married to the Bulgarian man, had two sons. Her husband had been looking and sounded smart and intelligent, who knew that he had a mental problems, she couldn’t realize this fact when she meet him- she was seventeen, he was twenty seven then, he was her first man, grandmother told the Girl- if you sleep with him- you have to marry. That’s how the mistake happen.
Time passes. Many things happen. Everything changed. Even the world’s political map, which nobody expected: neither Russians, nor anybody else in the Earth. The Girl’s generation has seen through her own eyes how whatever she has been learned in the Political History, in the books: the role of the person in a history seems to be practiced in a real life. It wasn’t the only theory- it was in real life. She experienced by herself the Chinese curse to live in a time of changes. The Soviet Union felt apart- every former political leader from the former Communist Party fought for the Presidents chair, so, the chairs suppose to be created, many of them. Who cares how the ordinary citizens will survive?
The Girl was an ordinary citizen. She was an ordinary citizen of two countries now- Russia and Bulgaria. She had enough of dish named “immigration”. She understood that the immigrant is acceptable only if he/she gives and never ask. Or, the aborigines will not understand you, bad girl! How dare you to ask! You came here, in our country, why did you come? Probably, because here is a better life, or better something… we do not know what, but it’s better for sure if you came! You are a citizen?! You’ll vote!? How dare you! The rights are ours, not yours! The responsibilities are yours! To marry our losers, to give birth to our citizens, to raise them, listen to us, smart, and pay the taxes! You are a specialist? Who cares! Your place is on the end of the tail, foreigner!
The felt apart Russia, unfortunately, buried Bulgaria above its economical ruins. This little, beautiful country had her bigger brother’s problems now: plants were closed, unemployment raised, the education and medicine have to be paid for, young people did not know what to do and where to go-there is no place for their energy to apply for. So, they were leaving the country and going to Spain, England, United States, Holland, Switzerland, Canada, getting loans for the visas and tickets and becoming slaves for the years to repay them: living on bunches in one room, working as a dishwashers in a restaurants for sixteen hours, and –which is awful- loosing any hope in the future. People’s problems haven’t changed in centuries: we just have to read classical writers from the past more to do not be surprised from the coming future-Dostoevsky, Steinbeck, watch movies as The Fifth Element.
The Girl was not an exclusion from the later time rules- she lost a job in the bank in a country where every fourth person was unemployed. She had lost a job while divorce a man, whose only goal at that time was how to destroy her because she dared to leave a lawyer, with money and influence, in HIS country. Which means: no civilized rules to survive since then exist for her. She didn’t have many choices, but two in this situation: to live there or leave. Leave to where? How to live with no money, job, and friends? The period of seven years of divorce examines the Girl’s psychic health. She learned how to hide herself into the egg shell while the scandal- she never answered the ex-husband’s aggressiveness, but he knew how to hurt her soul- he spited into her face when saw the sign of her disappearance into the shell. So, she started cry, he was happy. He was always smart in this way- he knew her spirituality very well. When divorce has became a documented fact- she married the American guy and left Bulgaria.
The first year in America the Girl doesn’t remember well- she had been working days and nights to pay her half-bills and send money to the children. The loneliness was that strong that she enrolled for the Russian site Classmates- the telephone conversations with the children, sister, and mother weren’t enough. There the Girl find start feel as at home- she found many former girls and boys who were women and man now, but they remember her, they were people from her past , they have had a lot in common to remember, friends, for example.“Hey, do you know what is Sasha doing now?’, “Off course, I know, unfortunately, he died in an air crash; he was a pilot in Afghanistan”, “Wow, horror! Poor guy! What about Lilia?”, “O, she is a single mom of two teenagers- you know, it’s a trouble.”, “Yes, I know exactly. How is Olga’s son? I was asking my father to find her, but he couldn’t – the family changed the address”, “Ira, what about the Boy, nobody knows where he is”, “Yes, he disappeared many years ago, hopefully, he is ok”. So, it was an echo from the past which sounded strongly from the start but got weaker with a time, and became a silence finally. Only for the classmate’s birthdays were writing each other and when something happen with a mutual friend when one day the Girl received a letter by Classmates:”Do you remember me? It’s me, the Boy. For twenty years I live in Colorado, Denver. Where you are?”. “ Urra! Do I remember you-the Boy from my bitter childhood? The Boy who kissed me first? I love you, friend, I remember everything!” Here we are – more than thirty years older, more than five thousand miles away from the homeland, happy to feel close to each other!
Quickly, let us exchange the telephone numbers, the email addresses-o, coincidence, the e-mail addresses are almost the same, it the Siberian city’s name, just they belong to the different sites: her- to Bulgarian one, his- to a hotmail. Let’s talk. Great. It was Saturday- they were whole day on the phone- talking, “do you remember?”, “Do you?”, “Remember, how your older brother was following us all over the city? And he was always near us when I came to your home?”, “Off course, I remember! It was his task to spy us- my mom told him. But remember what we were doing at the basement?”, “No! I do not remember this, liar! We only kissed. We were kids!”, “Who is a liar now? You refuse to remember? Ok, I will remind you…” “No, please, let us change the topic. Do you remember how my baby-sister felt down the street and your mom were taking care of the wound?”, “Off course, I remember! Girl, you really do not want talk about us? Why? Why do you live in this dirty city full of sins? You have to move from there. Want you? You look terrific! I thought that I look young, but you are...wow...Hollywood is a right place for you!”
“Do you have children, Boy?”
“Yes, I have a daughter. Here is the photo of her. And you?”
“I have two sons, twenty five and eighteen. Handsome boys, smart, healthy- I have done a great job! Probably they are my biggest achievement. I guess my personal life is a disaster as a payment for them, for which I agree totally. I am happy. I was married since I was twenty, for one year I am a free woman, and I feel comfortable. Why? Probably, I got tired of pretentions to me, I do not know.”
“I do feel ok after divorce, but I am missing my daughter very much. My ex-wife is influence at her against me, I feel unarmed. She is a very reach, smart, beautiful woman. Actually, she liked me, married me, used me- she wanted to have a beautiful baby, and left me with a child. I feel used.”
“Boy, the life is cruel; we have to fight even for the happiness. Just leave it behind and go ahead!”
“I feel ok, but angry and lonely. What about you?”
“I have a friend, a lover for one year. He is a musician, poet, very talented guy. He is an Aztec- tall, good built boy, we are very close. Unfortunately, he is too young for me, which can not be fixed. “
“What!? How old is he?”
“Twenty six. And he was courting me, I wasn’t the initiator. He, actually, feel great with me: meet me with a family, with his friends, I am always invited for the rehearsals of his band, we are going out, both of us love movies, philosophy, books. He is very mature boy in every aspect.”
“O, really. Congratulations. “
Hanging up the phone was as a slap on her face. What’s happen? She called him back:”Are you hang up on me? Or it was some technical problem?”
“O, it’s something wrong with the connection…Hm..No, I hang up on you! How you can do it! To sleep with the kid! It’s disgusting! I’ll call you later. Bye.”
Here we are again-different planets, different orbits, woman-man orbits.
She wasn’t in the mood for the funeral- who is? So, thinking carefully, the Girl opened the photo album, took the few pictures from this time when they were friends: six year old kids are with their teachers in a kindergarten’s backyard, dressed with their first school uniforms: they are going to the first grade. Here they are, both of them not smiled, serious; understanding unconsciously that almost half of the childhood is behind them. Here they are a little older at school. Just a few pictures where they are together. The Girl scanned them, sent to him with the words:”We are able to choose a bit of our future, but not a past- it’s already exist. As a parents, and our kids- they are given to us a priori. Bye.” It was a crust on their memories.
He called, ask to forgive. She forgave, because it doesn’t make any sense to fight with a dead body of the past.

Этот коротенький. Называется    The Toy

Finally she has had a great toy! Almost alive and very real- the dead mouse with a size of Ira’s palm, long naked tail and skinny short paws was found at the rear of grandma’s house. The mouth could be opened and closed by the finger easily; the imagination that the animal answered her questions was full: the girl was asking “Do you like me? Do you want me as your friend?”, and the answer was ready”Yes, off course, I would love you be my best friend! Do you know that I like to eat a cheese?”. “I know exactly, I was watching many cartoons about mice- they like cheese, bread, and drink milk from the cat’s bowls”.
The conversation was extremely interesting – the girl and the mouse had a lot to tell each other. Small animal even learn how to laugh with the open mouth and wave a tail. Probably this ability was forgotten since the death let the animal down, but Ina reminded her new friend what and how to do everything again. So, the mouse named Garik, starts it’s life over again; Ira felt as a God, or at list as an Angel This feeling was great, especially since when Ira understood how little the child is allowed to do by itself, with no asking somebody adult what to do: “May I go to pee?”, “May I eat now?”, or”May I play with Lily?”. The answers from adults usually were:”No, you’ll do it later” or “Yes, but not now”.
She could do with the toy whatever she wants – to feed it, talk to the creature, wrap it, hold it, sing a song for good night to it, read a book aloud, actually, they-the girl and the mouse- could do together whatever they decide to do. And whatever they did together was an amusement to both of them.
The girl was worried: her little toy-friend probably was hungry; she must feed it with milk. The syringe can help her to achieve the task. Grandma can help -she was a nurse in a hospital. Ira admired to go there: everything was different, not real at this place- as she went to a clouded sky- silent, clean, and white. She almost experienced the existence of Heaven when crossed the front door, opened by her Grand in non-visit hour. Usually the door was locked to prevent any bakterias to enter the on the visitor’s shoes. Visitors and their bacterias weren’t welcome to this military hospital. Visible respect to a hospital’s personnel from patient’s side was understandable: all men who, by the Christ and Government sake, were injured in a military action or got pneumonia on the winter’s outside post, feel bad physically and suffered morally – they didn’t know when and in what condition will be released from the hospital after long time recovery and how this will influence their careers and families. So, they were looking at the medical staff as at Angels, who will solve their problems, especially the Director of the nurses in this post surgery department-she was close to surgerists and knew all last information about every patient. In this case she was as a Director of Angels. It was the girl’s grandma.
The girl liked this blush of excitement – the moment when she and others truly believed into her grandma’s Maria unlimited ability to save somebody’s life and health. She knew this exactly – whoever was sick at home never went to a doctor because Maria knew what to do, she never made a mistake in a process of healing. Even the neighbors, primarily women, were coming home for an advice or help: if the door to the kitchen was closed-nobody had to enter there- the patient could be with her skirt up and grandma were making an injection of vitamin B or aloe if a neighbor had some inflammation, pneumonia, or anemia.
Now, Ina came for the syringe. She needs an explanation what for it will be- she couldn’t just show the mouse body to grandma and told:”Please, give me one used syringe which will be trough out for my toy I want to feed it. ” It wont work for sure, even the effect can not be predicted. O, yes, she knew what to tell: she came for help for the bleeding wound, happen by downfall at the back yard; then she suppose to ask quietly  if she can give her a syringe for the soap balloons. It was a bright idea! The balloons didn’t come out big, but they were big enough to fly. So, Ina got a syringe, big one-from glass with a relatively big hole at the end. No needle was allowed, she didn’t need it, the needle could hurt the toy’s little mouse. The next two steps were: to fill a syringe with milk and to find the place where she could be save from people’s eyes to feed the toy. Difficult tasks! Ina didn’t have any money to buy the milk, so, she had to go home with a hope to find some in the refrigerator. The only danger was the mother- she could be home, it was a summer time and her mom had a vocation as a professor in University of Chemistry, the students went to a countryside to help in a collective farm for the carrots and potatoes, It was a mandatory for them and to the professors, but Ira’s mother had two little children-her baby sister and her –first grade girl, so she was allowed to stay home vocation time and look after children. The idea for feeding the toy was that strong that Ina decides to risk: she wrapped the toy as a baby in a big handkerchief and carefully covered the toy’s head. Now they were safe. The front door was opened, the girl went into the apartment tiptoed, passed the corridor- nobody was there. How nice, soon, very soon the toy will be fed! Just wait a little!
“Where you were, girl? And what are you caring in your hands? Did you do your homework? Why did you take this clean linen handkerchief outside?”- It was her mother, sitting in the kitchen with a baby sister in her lap, having a tea with the aunt. “So, show us what is this”, the mother took the package from the mute girl and unwrapped it. Her face got scarlet, the scream frightened neighborhood, and the heavy handkerchief flied at the opposite corner of the kitchen. The long tail was sticking out from the package and, frozen of the scary scene, girl was thinking slowly because of fear: “Poor mouse- it hurt!  Why my mother jumped on the chair if the mouse is dead? Adults! Sometimes they do have imagination!”
The toy must be buried at the back yard where it was found. Ina was thinking above the fresh grave if she had to put the crust on it or not?

Мини-рецензии допускаются?

Интересно.Больше всего меня поразили детские переживания и то,как их удалось воспроизвести через много-много лет.
Спасибо за смелость и честность не только с нами,но и с самой собой.Удачи!

Только с согласия автора.А так-без проблем.

Вы, девочки, подумайте, посоветуйтесь. Не знаю как в Штатах, а в Польше напр. если автор решит публиковаться, то первый вопрос "Не появлялось ли это в сети".
Если это уже опубликованные рассказы, то да, тогда только от желания Нефер все зависит

Да сами справимся. Ира предет и скажет опубликовано это было или нет

Я бы перевел.

онечно допускаются- я разрешаю с удовольствием.

Лет прошло много, но все это сидит внутри.

я не могу высасывать другие, более красивые воспоминания из пальца.

Ну что же,к вечеру дам перевод первого рассказа.

be_free
согласен пока не очень понятно)))
Ира скажи прямо) ты разрешаешь be_free перевод своих рассказов опубликованных в этой ветке на русский язык?

На что согласие?

на перевод

Я буду только благодарна. Спасибо, друзья, особенно  Be_free- это труд.

А также вы меня спасаете от моих переживаний- мне как-то легче писать по англ., бсе равно это не я, а кто-то другой.

На русском я начинаю переживать. Знаю, звучит дико, но- факт.

Спасибо еще раз.

Ира, очень впечатлило! Молодец!