Читать книгу Winds of Change - Alan Greatluck - Страница 3

The boundless fields are covered with odorous cones of wheat. Golden colors of this cereal breed stretch far for the horizon, gently caressing a look of any human who feels a connection with nature. Easy, the gentle breeze blows these thin cones, creating yellow sea, as vortex raging on the earth. Quiet noise of these ears flies on serenity wings through wide fields towards to eternity through legends of ancestors.

Somewhere far away the wheat field meets clear blue, almost transparent sky, creating the blue-yellow ensign, which is calmly waving on a breeze. It seems that nature has created this symbol especially for Ukraine, striking the nation with the indescribable beauty forcing to beat millions of patriotic hearts. Marvelous grace fascinated by its simplicity and deep meaning embedded in this image by generations. Eyes of many great thinkers, poets and philosophers admired the allure of wild, almost untouched nature, noticing deep originality in each small detail, which belongs to its people…

The sudden bell of alarm clock interrupted his dreams, forcing him to wake up and wipe sleepy eyes. Late autumn comes to the room with bright beams of the sun, caressing the pale skin of his face. A new day could not bring anything, except routine. The sleep had ended and now he had to face reality, that closely surrounding his person. However, there was one smaller thing greasing action of the world around – dream. Whether is it possible to survive in a stream of rough everyday life, without thinking of something pleasant or so desired to your heart? How can we walk without essential target with name „dream“ through cruel reality?

He lowered his feet from a bed and propped up his head by hands, thinking – when hopes could be embodied in such illusive reality. Of course, it was silly to dream about accomplishments in such behindhand in development country. The experience of his trips abroad opened his eyes onto his soul, having shown a picture of beauty that captivated his imagination, but it could not show the road to the planned top. There, over the ocean, he had been able to earn several thousand dollars a month as simple labor, and satisfies himself with the received money, meeting simple desires. Came back to the native land, he could not find the way to achieve the similar income. The small enterprise, which he began with his friends on the financial market, reaped the fruits, leaving him a small stock of money but quickly leaked away in connection with the unpredictable events. Working when his moral work would be usurped by the administration and wouldn’t bring fair remuneration – it seemed the last option adjoining with madness. There was only the last hope – his book.

He had been working on it for a half a year already, creating his own literary work – the novel devoted to the 2 World War. Almost all his thoughts were occupied with the composition of its plot and selection of the facts from widespread sources, data of many words in one story that was impregnated with sense and the tragedy. Scenes of great battles, columns of the receding people and the simple human drama that unfolded against the backdrop of large-scale hostilities appeared in his imagination. He was burning in hope to achieve success with this book, to climb to the literary Parnassus and to gain laurel of the winner, having published the book. However, it was only dreaming and he had to write a lot, and, even more, to live through. His eyes were not able to see cruel life being under the misty of the dream.

The door of his room suddenly opened and figure of his mother passed inside to interrupt a thread of his dreams. He returned to the fatherly house after the fiasco on the financial market, had left the rental apartment to the new owner. His hearing instantly caught familiar words:

– Oh, you already woke up. Go to eat, breakfast is curdling.

These routine words brought him in a certain condition of awakening when the person recovered after a dream. He had to get out of bed and meet the new day, which didn't promise any achievements.

He woke up on his feet and his body slowly walked into the bathroom, where he took the daily procedure. While he was brushing his teeth and looking at himself in the mirror, his thoughts flew in a whirlwind of a creative process, reborn the intriguing plot in his imagination. Something exiting and great must come from human mind if he or she decides to make it. However, we are too great in our imagination and too lazy in it embodying. People love to dream and do not like to work and this is the main problem of the modern world.

The young person which appearance exposed twenty-year age looked at him from the glass mirror. His figure was slender, but long years of workout postponed on it the print of easy relief appeared through a night t-shirt. His face shrank in a gloomy grimace, very clearly exposed recent awakening from sleep. Deep wrinkles of discontent cut up a wide forehead, drifting together with fat lines on its center. Dark hair hung down near the ears as slovenly haystacks, adding negligence in his portrait. Blue eyes looked in a mirror with a tired gaze, not peculiar to young nature. Unknown indestructible grief froze in these two crystalline lenses of blue glass, pouring over his congeal soul by an elusive breath of the wind of life. Beautiful eyes were sparkling with sad indifference to his future. It was the uncertain track of the sadness of new generation trying to find its way in the cloudy reality of human being.

Plate with food stood on the wooden table, fluttering on a small kitchen with a pleasant smell. He sat down at the table and moved up the plate to himself and slowly begun to eat its contents, blowing his thoughts on the political future of the country. However, there was a reason for it, which soared over the heads of Ukrainian people as an invisible aura. That day, the summit of European Union must be held in Vilnius where the president of Ukraine Victor Yanukovych had to sign association with the EU. That fatal day was November 29. That event influenced the destiny of each person living in the country, which was exhausted in the torment of last century, dreaming of passing into a new era of prosperity. Ukraine, having a high potential for growth in different branches of human activity, suffered fail because of damnations of human soul – avarice, vanity, and defect that possessed souls of almost all officials. The country that was one of the biggest in Europe had more than thirty percent of world reserves of the black earth lay near the feet of insignificant the small people who were tearing it apart with bloody claws. The avarice that precedently directed Judas to betray Jesus Christ, Gobsek who was dying in the cold house but had millions on his bank accounts and Rockefeller who supplied German army with oil in World War II had lodged in the souls of these moral profligates now.

Scrap of the miserable humans who sold their souls for the blinding gloss of gold had no business to the people, which were decaying every day and vegetating in bitter poverty. Nevertheless, officials had to make a choice: to give a chance to the people for worthy existence and to reduce their appetites to government money, or to destroy the hardly smoldering hope of millions of Ukrainians. November 29 was a usual date that marked this day, which should be outlived differently. Hearts of people beat in unison, creating a general resonance of the faith and forming an illusion of bright future. Each of the hoping men waited for that summit where politicians would decide the destiny of the whole nation, in a desire to know the result. That can be called magic because faith and hope could make truly amazing things.

Chewing the breakfast, he continued to reflect on the state of affairs beyond him, gradually recovering after sleep and being filled with energy. Images of the state symbolic mixed with stars of the European Union flashed in front of his eyes, reflecting with golden alluvial on the blue background. However, despite all his hopes, an inner voice prompted to him that the president wouldn't sign long-awaited association. Declarations of the government on the eve of the summit and the essence of the officials proved that the European standards of life were not necessary to them. For politicians that strongly hold for their state appointments, the destiny of the people and the European values of life did not represent any weight. The main thing that played the defining role of a choice of governing elite was the opportunity to launder money in unlimited scales. The social obscurantism eclipsed minds of top officials, including the president, leaving no understanding that nation was on the verge of failure in long dive of revolution.

"All right, it’s not my business and not I solve the state problems; especially as I am deprived of the right to elect. It is better to understand what I should make for today" – flashed in his thoughtful head. Minds again started turning the club around his short-term plans, which always consisted only in two things: to finish the chapter of his book and then to go to work out. Two simple things he madly loved and which cast to his immense pleasures from natural human viands that called creation.

Dreams of publication of his book drew in his eyes the trembling hope about the realization of desired destiny – to become a famous writer. What could be better than an opportunity to influence lives of other people by force of word? For some most famous politicians were not enough even the most resolute actions to affect society whereas only one phrase was enough for the writer to engender grain of an idea that will smolder in souls by revival fire. Government officials made history, but writers created the whole epochs.

He finished his breakfast and left the table, cleaned a plate and went out from the kitchen. His entire mind came to the unfinished novel, leading him to the computer. He turned on the laptop, beginning to work. His plan was to finish next chapter, which would mark one passable step to the end of the story invented by him. His fingers touched the keyboard and eyes started ransacking fluently on black lines of upcoming text.

"… There was a seed of doubt grain waiting for a grief inside me. Certain forces that didn’t manage to be learned operate the person, introducing the amendments in life, changing his way that is foreordained for him. My heart felt that today's meeting was the manifestation of these forces, which fill our destinies and we are powerless against them. I have only to wait for an outcome that is so mysterious and inevitable in its fulfillments. After all happy occurrence or evil fate always takes place in the life of each of us…"

He read the printed lines and fleetingly paused, putting aside the keyboard. The sense of the words typed by him slightly touched his soul. The uncertainty of the destiny gave him a chance to draw a picture of hope and immense dreams to which he so aspired, flying on the wings of fate. His imagination had never accepted case will or the bad luck, which took many people who remained in the illusory world. After all, adverse squall could overtake his sail of hope too, and strongly throw on sharp rocks of failures. However, there is something mythical in the magnificent world that defines an outcome of each of us. People always think that they define their destinies but life can break this notion by unseen events that change everything. Even the greatest plans retreat before fortuity.

Deliberating about eternity criteria, he involuntarily remembered about summit in Vilnius. If only, the agreement of association would be signed that evening. In economic direction, it would mean gradual falling of prices for some goods on which delivery senseless tariffs would be removed. New horizons of opportunities would be opened in front of the impoverished people and they would be able to realize their dreams to achieve material prosperity. Association was a small spark of the flame of hope that had the power to change people's lives. Unfortunately, it was only dreaming.

Reminiscence about future summit didn't allow him to be engaged in the book writing anymore, selecting all creative fuses for the freak of the imagination. He several times tried to dive into writing again, but anything was impossible to him. The inflamed hopes appeared in his head again, eclipsing the story invented by his fantasy.

Finally, having ceased attempts to concentrate on creation process, he closed the MS Word, changing the text for a little and starting to prepare for training. His black sport’s bag was carefully filled with old shabby things in which he was clothed during work out. Occupation by burdening always gave him certain self-confidence and possibilities of the body. Eternal fight with own laziness and vile weakness forced him to trudge to the gym so that every time to receive only one incredible thing – taste of a victory over himself.

He finished his preparation and quickly jumped out from the house, running to the gym that was in the downtown of the city. His borough was small and totaled only two hundred seventy thousands of the population. The provincial town wasn't sated with skyscrapers or big office buildings, having only one central avenue that comes through the city and was set with tall trees from both sides. Small houses were left from the Soviet Union past and their architecture prevailed in the inveterate architecture of a general view of the small city. The old, cracked asphalt decayed on rectilinear streets every year, being covered only by square trays, which roughly replaced its holes. The central part of the municipality was covered with advertising that attracted fresh eyes of passersby. Gray facades of buildings gloomy swam in an autumn silhouette of the living city.

The provincial spirit reigned here continually, gleaming manners of the population. This town presented fewer opportunities to its inhabitants, compelling most of the people to conduct modest life and to have worldly cares. To have a good position with a salary of one thousand dollars per month and to have a car of the foreign producer were considered as success here. However, despite all circumstances, desire to have a European standard of living smoldered in a soul of each person. The sizzling power of poorness couldn't force out the hope that uniting all people in their prompting from souls of Ukrainian citizens.

He got on the bus and paid for transit, beginning to hear echoes of this hope that reduced in tales and guesses of passengers of the bus. Their lips had no other topics as the assignment of association. Having listened, he heard similar dialogues:

– How do you think, will Yanukovych sign association today?

– I don't know everything depends on what Europe has promised him.

– Or what Vladimir Putin told him.

– Also is true.

All conversations were reduced to one thing – destiny of the Motherland that stood on a fork of two roads conducting to opposite results. Looking at insensible faces of passengers, he saw scary gloomy routine that lay with a dark stamp on them. Beggary held down their souls by the press of discontent, turning ordinary people into spiteful similarity of them. Unfortunately, it is impossible to be kind and polite, living in poverty. Human soul gets rude and protected from outcome danger in steel chains of poverty and iniquity. People complained about their country and the state system, not realizing that they created the evil that surrounded them by themselves. Selfish treating to others, we create our own problems, even such as rudeness in the bus.

The trip in public transport had never delivered pleasure to him and he always abided squash in a salon. However, that day he didn't pay attention to this circumstance. Thoughts as if departed away from his head, leaving a body in periodical frustration. He woke after this fettle only in the gym on working racetrack, hardly running. The temperature of his body slowly started to increase, having returned his soul to human feelings. Blood began to disperse quicker on vessels and capillaries, lungs started to work faster, oxygenating it. His organism reconstructed from a usual rhythm in the regime of the raised weight, preparing for the high physical activity.

The complex of all these extraordinary feelings brought him a certain similarity of pleasure. With each step on a racetrack or rep with weight, he felt that he was alive, being sated with monumental eagerness to a victory. Any weight on a bar or a dumbbell and any distance he ran forced him to transfer new physical burdens, pushing him to achieve an abstract result. He couldn't imagine an ultimate goal, having completely been fond of the entertaining process of creation of a beautiful body.

He compared physical occupations with the writing of his book. Each of these affairs was hard for him. Writing of the next line or another rep was given with bugbear overcoming, but thirst of results covered all efforts with new hope. Even at the most desperate moments when he wanted to throw everything and to be engaged in usual activity what was conducted by millions of people, the spark smoldering in his heart compelled him to stay on his way. Moreover, he lifted the weight again, feeling how skin became covered by small ripples and sweat drops appeared on his brow. His body plunged into the abyss of physical work more and more, muscle fibers were torn from big burdening, bringing him the characteristic feeling of pumping. No one who has ever lifted a bar over himself, can't even imagine, what feelings overflow the person during occupation with burdening. It was something magical and indescribable that could change weakness to the strong.

Finishing another set, our hero stood back from the occupied apparatus and stopped to have a rest. Sweat rolled down from his face, flowing on a wet t-shirt and dribbling on a rubber floor. Loudly playing music muffled talks of other people, immersing him in the special world of a gym. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice:

– Mike, do you pump bars again? – sounded behind his back. Having turned to consider speaking, he saw some acquaintance. This young man had low height and a thickset constitution. Years that he spent in the gym made his figure extremely brawny. The wide back dispersed on the sides by heavy block and formed the triangle topped with the round deltoid muscles that were called shoulders. The strong trapeze went beyond his outline, adding a menacing look to the silhouette of the sportsman. Hale hands were as two heavy columns, transmewing his figure in the semblance of an ethnic Greek athlete. At last, the portrait of the young bodybuilder was crowned by the rough features, which fit representation of the gloomy man. Nose had round shape that slightly reminded potato, but it had not a disfiguring appearance. Eyebrows with wide line met at the upper part of the nose, rarely darkening and drawing the forehead that was rugged cross by one wrinkle testifying about frequent mimicry of its owner. Lips hang at the edge of a nose with two small pillows, having the dried-up film from physical intensity on them. Wide cheekbones added invisible courage to the contour of eyes, turning a general view of his face into a portrait of some antique gladiator.

Facing athlete in front of him, Mike smiled and reaped his strong hand, gladly answering:

– What’s up Alex! Yeah, you right but as you know: no pain – no gain. But how are you? Is there physical progress or not?

– Everything is usually, thanks’. Unfortunately, I can't add my working weight, but anyway, I will try to change it, – Alexander started to talk, smoothly replacing a topic of conversation:

– How do you think, will the association be signed tonight?

The sounded question slightly surprised Mike, as he had never talked about politics with him, preferring topics about food and extension of muscles.

– It is unlikely that Yanukovych will cut his own throat. The signing of association means to approach the accession to the European Union, and it is not necessary for him at all. Russian Federation won’t leave him such choice as to connect to west civilization. In addition, new laws and new rules reducing corruption instead of already well-debugged schemes – is it has purport for him?

– I don't know, but you see, there was a little rally on the Maidan when his government declared a suspension of the process of association. Perhaps, he will be afraid of the beginning of revolt in Kiev. After all, it could make him go for concessions. At last, how much money is it possible to steal; after all, he has everything, what he only wishes. Really, is it not enough?

– Prosperity? I think, he does not understand the value of this word. Surplus, that what directs him. It is hard to stop yourself in this damned whirlpool of a sin, having got under the influence of owns defects that kindled by the presence of excessive money. For us, people who have never had such great money, „enough“ is clear but for those who have billions – it is incomprehensible things. Money is the sense of their life and they got into a deathtrap when began to be stealing such big amounts.

– So your expectations are skeptical. In addition, what will you tell if people take the streets? – Alexander continued his interrogation without being appeased.

– It is unlikely someone will turn out from it. And you know our people have a low interest in political life. Even if streets will be occupied by a revolt, not everyone comes to them. Orange revolution stays fresh memory in the heads of people. Disappointment has done its deal. They scary to be beguiled, – Mike said, taking a view of the gym. Instinctively he believed in his correctness and didn't think about the current situation. Only somewhere deep in his soul the shabby piece of coal of the hope smoldered with the light of his dreams.