Читать книгу «Высшая мера» и другие рассказы на английском языке - Александр Пахотин - Страница 4

(1052 words)

It happened when I lived in Budapest with my mother who worked at the American International School of Budapest. One August evening, as I was coming back from a fitness center, I saw an ad. Or rather, I saw the ad that advertised Michael Jackson’s concert. I felt dizzy with excitement. The King of Pop was coming to Budapest. This was more than I could possibly dream of.

I was a big fan of Michael at the time. The walls in my room were covered with his pin-ups and posters, and all my schoolbook covers had pictures of Michael in various poses plastered all over them.

The moment the ad caught my eye I decided to get a picture of Michael in Budapest at all costs. I knew perfectly well that there would be hundreds of other fans with the same wish. I also knew that Michael would be very difficult to photograph. He had signed some kind of agreement with the Pepsi Company, giving them exclusive rights for covering his world tour. But nothing would make me give up my idea.

My first task was to find out about the day and the exact time of Michael’s arrival. It took me some time and effort to learn that he was coming on the eve of his concert. I couldn’t get info about the time of his arrival, but I was told he would be staying at the Kempinski Hotel. This first-class hotel is right in the center of Budapest, just at the end of Vaci Street, which is a pedestrian zone. Actually, the street is very short but it’s the most popular place among the tourist attractions of Budapest. The street is full of most expensive shops, art galleries, cafes and restaurants.

Anyway, I prepared everything for the arrival of my idol. I took my camera with a couple of extra films, and filled my backpack with some sandwiches, pop, and other stuff that could come in handy (like my umbrella, sunglasses, pictures of M.J., binoculars etc.).

My plan was clear and simple: I was going to catch M.J. at the Kempinski Hotel and take a photo of him there.

I got to the hotel at about 10 in the morning. There seemed to be no one there except the hotel porters who rushed to every limo coming to the main entrance.

I hung around the hotel for some time, hoping to get more information about M.J. I was sure the porters knew something about the time of his arrival. So I approached one of them, talked with him, and he gave me some tips on how to take pictures of my hero.

It turned out that M.J. was only coming to the hotel at about 7 p.m. so I had more than eight hours to wait. As I couldn’t trust the information, I decided to stick around. Strangely enough, I was not tired. Just the opposite, in fact: I felt better and better with every passing hour. Around 4 p.m. people began to gather near the hotel. The crowd was growing very quickly. I was upset ‘cos all the people were gonna kill my chances of taking good pictures. My hope and enthusiasm were vanishing as the crowd of fans grew.

By 6:30 p.m. hundreds of people were crammed into the space in front of the hotel. I climbed up a tree to get a better view. My gut feeling told me that something was not right. I suddenly realized that M.J. would not even be able to reach the main entrance, not to mention getting inside. The thought gave me a real fright. Maybe the info about his staying at the Kempinski was bullshit. Maybe he was going to stay at some other place. Beads of sticky sweat streaked down my spine. I thought I was going to faint.

At that very moment a wave of movement rushed through the crowd. Everybody looked in the direction of the left wing of the hotel. Two black luxury limousines were coming through the crowd. I got out my camera, ready to take pictures of my idol, but the cars did not go to the main entrance. Instead, they drove towards the side doors of the hotel and stopped within several feet of the entrance there.

Two huge bodyguards got out of one of the limos and made a kind of passage for M.J. After a few seconds a third bodyguard opened the hotel doors. And then the famous face, with the sunglasses and the wide-brim hat stepped quickly out of the limo and walked to the open doors of the hotel. Thank God I was in the tree and able to see everything.

I was so fascinated by the sight of Michael that I forgot about my camera. When I remembered why I had come, the doors of the hotel had already shut.

For some reason, the crowd stayed. Now everybody was looking up at the windows on the third floor. Somehow, the crowd knew that Michael Jackson’s suite looked out onto the square in front of the hotel. Those who had been unlucky like me were now waiting for M.J. to look out the windows of his suite.

I didn’t believe that Michael was going to show his face. But miracles do happen. After ten or fifteen minutes, Michael’s face appeared. Then he waved his hand and disappeared inside his suite. A few minutes later, a little kid looked out of the same window. Then Michael appeared again. This time he was holding a piece of paper in his hands. On the paper there were three words: ‘I LOVE YOU’. The crowd roared with excitement. Michael folded up the paper and threw it down into the crowd.

I didn’t expect Hungarians to be so crazy about M.J. The crowd converged round the spot where the paper had landed. There were screams and shouts as people fought over the precious souvenir. This time I managed to take a few pictures of Michael looking out of the window. I still have those pictures in a special album.

Looking back on those crazy days I feel kind of nostalgic. Since that time I have seen a lot of different stars, but I’ve never felt such awe and excitement as when I saw Michael.

Словарик

feel dizzy чувствовать головокружение

pinrups плакаты

catch one’s eye привлечь чьё-то внимание

at all costs любой ценой

cover здесь освещать в СМИ

give up отказываться

info информация

pedesrian zone пешеходная зона

backpack рюкзак

pop газированная вода

come in handy пригодиться

limo лимузин

hang around бродить

stick around здесь не уходить

‘cos because

were gonna kill здесь погубят (мой шанс)

cram здесь заполнять до отказа

gut feeling чутье

gave me a real fright здесь поeнастоящему напугала

bullshit груб чепуха

faint терять сознание

suite номер «люкс»

roar реветь

converge здесь сжиматься

Вопросы и задания

Have you ever taken pictures of a famous person?

Did you behave in the same manner as the storyteller?

Do you know anyone who can be called a fan?

Do you support the storyteller’s wish to take pictures of M.J.?

Do you think that such behavior is only characteristic of teenagers?

Are you a fan of any famous person? Why?

Read aloud and translate any paragraph you like.