Читать книгу Confession of a Ghost. F.M. Dostoevsky award. Playing Another Reality - Alexandra Kryuchkova - Страница 20

I moved along the walls with icons in Janis’ shop, and one of the Saints followed me with his eyes. I couldn’t stand it and took the icon in my hands.

“Saint Spyridon, Bishop of Trimythous, the Wonderworker,” said Janis. “We love him very much. He lived in Cyprus in the city of Trimythous in the 3^rd-4^th centuries, and still works miracles.”

“Why is he wearing a hat, and what is the strange thing with fire in his hand?” I asked.

“It’s the shepherd’s cap, he grazed the sheep, but after the death of his wife and daughter, he devoted himself to serving God and was appointed bishop. Spyridon served in the temple with angels singing prayers, people heard them. He performed many miracles – healed and resurrected the dead, cast out demons, caused rain in the drought, water streams parted in front of him. In 325, at the 1^st Ecumenical Council of Nicaea, there was a dispute about God and the unity of the Holy Trinity. Spyridon was an uneducated person, but he took a tile and prayed, so the tile broke into its constituent elements – the water flowed out, the fire soared up, the earth remained – as three in one. God gave Spyridon many spiritual gifts. He saw through people, foresaw events, including the date of his death. He died during prayer.”

“A girl came to us once,” Leah remembered. “She was offered a job in another city, and her diploma was lost on the eve of departure. Most likely, tiding the house up, her mother accidentally threw it away. At night, the girl slept with the balcony door open. In drowsiness, she seemed to hear someone entering the room through the balcony and placing papers on the table. So, in the morning, she found the diploma on the table! She bought an icon with Spyridon from us and took it to Corfu along with slippers. Spyridon, helping people, wears out his slippers, so he is pleased when people bring new ones as a token of gratitude.”

“What do you mean?” I was surprised.

“His body is alive and soft,” Leah answered calmly. “The temperature is 36,6. Even scientists examined him. The shrine with the relics has been in Corfu since the 15^th century. When priests cannot open the shrine, Spyridon is absent on business, the tapping in the shrine means he has returned. Sometimes they find wet clothes and algae inside, as he helped at sea. They say that in other churches with particles of his relics, tapping is heard too, the door to the relics opens and closes by itself. Spyridon’s slippers are wearing out from walking, priests change them, then cut and distribute to pilgrims the worn-out ones.”

Leah left us and after returning handed me a paper square with the stamp of Spyridon.

“From his relics! Put it in your wallet for money.”

“Thank you! So does he help with finances?”

“He helped the poor, gave out money,” Janis said, “but he was strict, sent rain on a stingy rich man who sold bread three times more the price. Greedy people tried to deceive him. The merchant didn’t pay for one of the 100 goats, so that goat returned from the merchant to Spyridon.”

“One day, thieves decided to steal sheep from Spyridon,” Leah continued, “and they couldn’t get out of the sheepfold overnight, as if tied hand and foot. Spyridon came in the morning, urged not to follow the path of Darkness, gave a sheep each and said, ‘you haven’t suffered here all night for nothing’.”

“He turned snakes into gold,” Janis added. “Once he showed a rich man the money turning into a snake and crawling away. As John Krestiankin said, if they prayed to St. Spyridon, they would have got house for a long time. Spyridon helps also with employment, in commercial and trade matters, to farmers, cattle breeders.”

“Corfu, with the relics of Spyridon, wasn’t captured by the Turks,” Leah continued. “And the bombs of the Second World War fell at an angle – into the sea, the temple with the relics remained untouched. You can go to him by plane from Thessaloniki or by ferry from Igoumenitsa. Four times a year they make a religious procession with the relics of Spyridon around the island. People run under the shrine, many are healed. In the temple, you’ll see the beaten up lamp, gifted by the Italian admiral, who decided to convert the altar into a Catholic one at the beginning of the 18^th century. Spyridon twice appeared to the Italian in a dream with a warning, but work began. A storm raged at night, the Saint left the shrine, went out to the gate, and three tongues of flame from the bell tower hit the gunpowder warehouse, the admiral and his workers were killed, and the lamp in the temple fell and received a huge dent. Oh, I’ve almost forgotten! Go to the dungeon of the temple, Spyridon’s rings are sold there!”

***

I ordered fresh orange juice in a cafe on the sea street. Kiri ran up to me.

“The customer is looking for money icons. I told her about Spyridon, and she asks others!”

“In childhood, I had the only icon called ‘Unexpected Joy’. It depicts a sinner praying in front of the icon of the Virgin Mary. Grandma said it helped with money. Rather, with sudden joy when there’s no hope. At the age of 13, I was baptized in the Church of Unexpected Joy.”

“I don’t think it was an accident! We say icons choose themselves which house to go to serve. Anyhow, I don’t have ‘Unexpected Joy’. What else?”

“Well, ‘Joy of All Who Sorrow’ with coins. Usually the image is painted without money. During a fire in a church of St. Petersburg, the usual icon wasn’t damaged, because some coins from the alms bowl miraculously stuck to it. If you have lost something, as health, work, money or hope, the Virgin will help you get it again through the angels.”

“I haven’t that one either! I have ‘Economissa’ from Athos. In the 10^th century, the Virgin appeared to St. Athanasius the Athonite, the founder of Great Lavra, when the monks, due to lack of food, decided to leave the Mountain. ‘Don’t leave the monastery, I’ll take it under my protection, and you’ll always have food.’ So, Athanasius returned and found their cellars full. The image of his vision called ‘Economissa’, or ‘House-Builder’, or ‘The House Lady’, is located in Great Lavra. It helps in solving material problems, saves from bankruptcy and hunger. Is it known in Russia?”

“Yes, the image was prayed to in the besieged Leningrad.”

Corfu

Corfu, or Kerkyra, also called as “the City of castles”, a Greek island in the Ionian Sea and a town with a strong Venetian influence, since it belonged to Venice for about 400 years, was under UNESCO patronage.

I stood praying in the temple of St. Spyridon, in line to his relics. The shrine was set to the right of the altar gates in a special aisle, which was periodically opened for pilgrims. Having entered the chapel with indescribable trepidation, I passed the slippers to the priest standing at the feet of Spyridon, and he immediately placed them in the open shrine, and then I gave the icons I had acquired on Athos for blessing on the relics. Mentally thanking Spyridon for the help already rendered to me and making another request, I leaned towards the head of the Saint and caught his gaze. An inexpressible radiance emanating from his eye sockets was a flood of pure Light. The priest standing at the head board returned the blessed icons to me, and I left the chapel.

I noticed a strange Monk in the temple. Where had we meet before? On Athos? There was a thick fog in my head, and everything in it swirled, mixed up and melted. Soon the Monk disappeared, I calmed down and, without difficulty remembering my relatives and friends, handed over the memorial notes to the priest, and then went down to the icon shop, located under the temple somewhere on the left.

I asked about the ring of St. Spyridon, the monk gave me an appraising look and offered to follow him into the dungeon. In a distant cell, he took out a box of rings with an engraved and gilded image of the Saint and a prayer on the back side.

“We don’t sell them in the temple shop unless someone really needs. They are made out of silver plates that we hang on the shrine for a while.”

Joyful from the acquisition of the treasured ring, I went to the church of John the Baptist and, after handing over the memorial note, stood in line for the relics, which the priest had took out from the altar. Having kissed the relics, I turned to the exit, but the priest stopped me, pointing to my cross purchased at Janis’ shop. He blessed it and passed my cross back to me, then touched my forehead with a particle of the Life-giving Cross, and strong energy waves ran through my body.

I was walking around the town when a familiar voice called out to me.

“Not Athos, I may appear here,” Ray explained. “Shall we go to a cafe? How are you?”

“Great, and you? Don’t you want to leave, or they don’t let you go?”

“Are sorcerers allowed into Heavens?” he grinned, and we settled down in a cafe by the sea.

“You didn’t believe in life after death, did you? Oh, Ray, why did you use your magical powers against people? What all these millions and the Cote d’Azur for? Did they bring you happiness? You ended up losing almost everything you had got. Are there any devils? Is there a Hell?”

“Both, Hell and devils.”

“Have you seen them?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t believe in them, and anyway you have seen them!” I didn’t let up.

“Are you hungry?” Ray asked, clearly not eager to tell me about the devils.

“No, and you? Do they eat anything there?”

“Sinners are fried in pans and then eaten!”

“However, you haven’t been fried yet!”

“It’s not evening yet. Have you noticed anything strange? What seems to be wrong? And what kind of dreams do you have?”

“I see a monk,” I admitted. “today at Spyridon’s temple, and before that on Athos. I rarely dream about something or don’t remember my dreams.”

“What am I to do with you?” Ray said thoughtfully. “Tell me where are you now?”

Suddenly, something made me shift my gaze from Ray to the crowd of passers-by, and I saw … myself, sitting down at the next table! Ray glanced at my copy and then at me.

“Ray,” I said in horror, “are you conjuring me?!”

“You’ve guessed it wrong. I really don’t know what to do with you. You don’t remember anything, or rather, you remember selectively and you are not aware of reality, therefore you see neither devils nor angels. You are tightly stuck in your Past, wandering through the labyrinth of memory.”

I got up, walked over to myself at the next table, called out – in vain, and returned to Ray.

“Let’s suppose I’m stuck in the Past, but where is my Present?”

“It’s no longer on Earth, Alice. You are dead.”

I screamed in horror at such a sudden thought and… woke up…

It was deep night on Athos.