Читать книгу Confession of a Ghost. F.M. Dostoevsky award. Playing Another Reality - Alexandra Kryuchkova - Страница 26

I got on the ship. Nobody seemed to notice me. I looked at the world with another vision, for example, I saw the glow of people, different in saturation and shades; pillars of Light over the Athos monasteries, each had its own. The people on the ship were photographing the earthly beauty and impatiently awaiting the arrival of the relics… A boat set sail from the foot of the Holy Mountain, and soon the monks of the Dionysiou Monastery boarded the ship. People lined up to venerate the miraculous icon of the “Virgin Mary of the Akathist”. I stood next to the icon in an empty place so as not to disturb anyone, and prayed mentally. Suddenly, a little girl, kissing the icon, whispered to her mother, pointing at me, “Look, what a strange lady!” The woman didn’t notice my presence and was even afraid for her daughter. I moved to the deck a level higher and found myself right in front of the Mountain. The clouds of white-winged angels parted, exposing its top, and I saw a dazzling Stairway going up!

Moscow

As I stepped out of the lift, I bumped into the ghost of my neighbor’s husband. We greeted each other, and I remembered that I had seen him at the Information Desk in the Heavenly Office.

“I’m waiting for my Lena,” he sighed.

“Do you know when I left here?”

“Nine days ago. What’s the point of your coming back?”

“I need to remember something here.”

“Sometimes it’s better not to remember,” the ghost said sadly.

Out of habit, I tried to get the keys out of my bag, but ended slipping inside with my eyes shut.

“Ugh,” I breathed out as I opened my eyes.

“Hi,” Ray greeted me in the hallway. “Make yourself at home, but don’t forget that you are a guest. Pay attention to the unusual.”

I glanced appraising the room and exhaled – there were only icons. Alive icons, the Saints and the Virgin Mary looked at me, obviously trying to awaken my memory, but I went into the kitchen and sat down on the windowsill thoughtfully.

“Well,” Ray said cryptically, “not bad. And…?”

“And what?” I got worried.

“What happened next?” he asked, coming closer to me.

“Ray, no, I couldn’t!” I jumped off the windowsill onto the tiled floor.

“They decided so,” Ray sat down next to me. “The church doesn’t deal with death like that.”

“Are you saying someone threw me out?”

“Since childhood, you’ve had the tendency to the window. When your memory was erased, life became unbearable as the day of groundhog. You wished death, but patiently waited for it, sitting on the windowsill by the open window.”

“The handle! There is no handle on the right window sash!” I noticed.

“It was already half broken at that moment. It was raining that night, a devil came to you and once again tried to inspire you to step down. The Guardian Angel was there, but suddenly…”

“My God, did I slip? And the handle, as the only thing I could hold on to, came off! They must find it, there, on the ground, torn off … in my … well… hand … or nearby!”

“The handle might have been missing before. Everyone knew about your inclination, it never occurred to anyone that you had slipped.”

“They know everything in Heaven! There, in the Court of Judgment, I saw a huge screen on which my life is scrolled.”

“Not only actions and words are being judged, thoughts and desires as well.”

“That’s terrible, Ray. What can I do now without my body and voice?”

“Some people hear and see us. Shortly before the memory loss, you wanted to do something, I’m forbidden to tell you what it was, but it was your sincere wish. You need to fulfill it. I don’t know how, and whether it can affect the Court’s verdict. Come back here, dig into things.”

“There’s nothing but icons here!” I was surprised.

“You passed by the second room. The fear of pain clouds your vision so much that you stubbornly don’t notice many things.”

I returned to the corridor and found a door with a lock.

“Courage! What is there to be afraid of now?” Ray pushed me inside, and there was a mountain of things piled on top of each other from floor to ceiling.

“Oh,” I burst out. “How many days will it take me? I can’t get in time, Ray! Where did all the stuff come from? What are these things?”

“Trying is not torture. The torture’s in Hell in a frying pan.”

“Is it very hot in Hell?” I asked with an eye to the future.

“Unbearable. Shall we drink tea?”

Ouranoupoli

“Alice, jump!” Leah exclaimed when she saw me coming back from the Athos’ border. “Let’s see your Stairs!”

“Wow! It’s amazing!”

“I didn’t expect it either,” said Janis, coming up to us. “Both devils and souls are painted in details.”

Janis returned to the customers, Leah brought coffee and asked me,

“Jacob’s Ladder?”

“He has a different one. Jacob is the 3^rd Old Testament Patriarch, the son of the Patriarch Isaac and Rebecca, revered in Christianity, Judaism and Islam. He fought with the angel and after it was transformed and acquired a new name, Israel. He dreamed about the Ladder connecting Heaven and Earth, of 12 steps, with human faces on both sides and fiery faces at the top. The angel told Jacob the meaning of each step, but Jacob’s Ladder is interpreted as Christ’s descent to Earth – the incarnation of the Spirit into matter by passing 12 steps, I would say, 12 Spheres, the path from Heaven to Earth. It’s also a symbol of the Virgin, as the Akathist says, ‘Rejoice, Heavenly Ladder, by which God came down’. Jacob had 12 sons, the founders of the tribes. He lived 147 years. According to Egyptian customs, his body was embalmed by his children and transported to the Promised Land of Canaan for burial in the Cave in Hebron.”

“Where is it?”

“Hebron, or Kiryat Arba, the City of Four, not far from Jerusalem. The oldest of the 4 holy cities for the Jews, where King David was anointed to the kingdom. It’s divided into 2 parts, 20%, including the Cave of the Patriarchs, belongs to Israel, and 80% belongs to Palestine.”

“Have you been in that Cave? Well, tell me about it!”

“The Cave of the Patriarchs, or Machpela, is translated as ‘Double Cave’. They say whoever descends into it will immediately goes to the Kingdom of the Dead, or Paradise. Remember the icon of Abraham and Sarah, treating the angels? It looks like an icon of the Trinity. So, it was in Hebron that God appeared to Abraham and Sarah in the form of three strangers and told the good news – they would get a son. They had no children for a long time, perhaps because Sarah is Abraham’s half-sister. Abraham wanted to feed the wanderers with a calf, but it ran to the Cave. Abraham caught up with the animal, discovered the tombs of Adam and Eve, from which the Heavenly Light and the wonderful smell of Paradise emanated, and felt that Heaven and Earth were united in the Cave. By the way, ‘Hebron’ comes from the word ‘connection’. After the death of Sarah, Abraham bought a field with the Cave for the burial of his beloved wife. He was buried nearby.”

“Next to Adam and Eve?”

“Where, according to legend, God himself buried Adam, who had previously buried Eve there, and where the entrance to Paradise was located. Abraham lived about 175 years, the first of the 3 Patriarchs after the Flood. The second, the son of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, was buried there with his wife Rebecca. The son of Isaac, Jacob, was the one who saw the Ladder of 12 steps. Both he and his wife Leah …”

“Leah? That’s my name! What does the Cave look like?”

“Visually, the structure above the Cave resembles the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. They say it was built by King Herod 2,000 years ago, the outer walls are about 12 meters high, and the stones in the lower part are about 7.5 meters long. The territory is divided into two parts, in proportion approximately like Hebron itself, there is a mosque and a synagogue. Each has a separate entrance. Since 1967, the entrance to the Cave has been open to tourists 24 hours per day, but you can’t get into the underground part. There are symbolic tombstones inside the mosque and the synagogue.”

“Has no one ever gone down there?” Leah was disappointed.

“The entrance to the lower part was walled up by the Arabs in the 10^th century. In the mosque, in the hall of Isaac, there is a small hole in the floor, 28 centimeters in diameter. Every morning it is opened and a burning lamp is lowered into the dungeon. One day a little girl was sent there to explore and measure the lower floor with steps. She saw the graves and a corridor leading to the next room. Several people entered the dungeon in a different way and found not one, but two levels connected by corridors, but the lower level was filled with earth to the top.”

“It’s a pity!” Leah sighed. “Although, the cave-like conditions help keep the bodies incorruptible. Remember the Seven Youths of Ephesus? If people enter inside, they’ll tear apart the bones, try to get them together after that! What Ladder was painted for you?”

“In the 6^th century, the hegumen of the Sinai Monastery, the Monk John, originally from Constantinople, but moved to Egypt, where he spent 40 years as a hermit in the desert, wrote the book ‘The Stairs’, or ‘The Paradise Stairs’, ‘The Spiritual Tablets’. There are 30 steps of ascent to God in it, and the book, originally written for monks, is a guide to spiritual self-improvement. Each step means the renunciation of one of the earthly passions and the acquisition of the quality needed for the ascent to the Light. The 23 steps are dedicated to the fight against sins, and the 7 higher ones to the acquisition of virtues, the highest is the union of Faith, Hope and Love.”

“In a Greek book about the Posthumous Ordeals, there are exactly 23 tests. There is an icon ‘The 7 Pillars of Faith’!”

“They calculate 20 Ordeals in Russia. If one goes into detail, it could be even 40. John himself is depicted the closest to God on the Stairs with a scroll of his manuscript “The Stairs”. On the icon, John is without halo, since he hasn’t yet reached Christ, there are 3 steps left. Behind him, in white robes, the abbot Anthony of the same Sinai monastery is ascending. He lived 5 centuries later. They began to paint the icon when the book had already been published. St. Catherine’ monastery in Sinai keeps an icon of the 12^th century.”

“Why are devils taking monks with their hooks and loops, while the angels are silently looking at that from Heaven?”

“They are praying, and their prayer has great power, Leah! But neither angels nor devils can press on a person, forcing to make a decision. The devils only whisper bad thoughts, tempt, incline the soul towards Evil. On the right of the icon, the monks, still living on Earth, look at the Stairs, as if trying the way on themselves, will they reach Heavens? Many have seen the Stairs and the Ordeals in dreams.”

“Alice, do you believe in devils, Ordeals?”

“I believe that everyone will get their own, and after death we’ll see life in all its glory, and we’ll be tested for attraction to earthly things. My grandmother, 10 days before her death, said that sorcerers and devils came to her, gnawed at her, dragged her to them torturing in every way. Perhaps the devils are a convention, but …”

“What will be in case of the balance between our Good and Evil?”

“One soul, when the door to Heaven was already opened, refused God and went to the Devil, because that soul liked the Evil. If we are given the right to choose during our lifetime, it’s unlikely to be taken away afterwards.”

“How long is the trial?”

“Some monks saw the Saints instantly overcoming the Stairs. The speed of passage is different for everyone. I think 40 days are set not for nothing.”

“It turns out that there are several Ladders! The Jacob’s one has 12 steps down, the John’s has 30 steps up, right? And we have 40 days. Are there 20 or 23 steps of the Ordeals?”

“Time is a conditional concept, and the Ladder is one only, with uninterrupted movement in both directions – the descent of the soul into the body, its way on Earth, and the return to Heaven.”

Janis returned to us and handed me a book.

“A gift for you from Archimandrite Ignatius! Published by the cell of St. Nicholas for pilgrims, translated into Russian, only for sale on Mount Athos. Let’s see the photos from the monasteries where I was yesterday!”

Tower of Ouranoupoli

“How are you, Alice?” Joice asked.

“Not much,” I sighed, slumping into a chair by the fireplace. “It’s the 10^th day after. All I know is that my body was buried without liturgy, and something needs to be done before the 40^th day. The only evidence that I slipped on the windowsill is the missing handle, torn from the window frame. I’ll hardly find it, and how can I tell them there? And to whom?”

“Not bad for a start! When you find the handle, you’ll think about what to do with it next. At home?”

“Floor-to-ceiling stuff. It’s unrealistic to examine all things one by one in the rest of my time. Why did they get there? Not to remind me of the Past? I found my book with a funny title, ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’.”

“Some not only believe, but hear and see us,” Joice smiled. “What’s the book?”

“A collection of unrelated stories written a long time ago. I’ve read a few, but they are all veiled. ‘The House by the Station’ was to be demolished, but I smelt the acrid smoke, someone had set fire to our house. The story ‘Stillborn’ is written on behalf of a man. I saw him with his wife, they had no children. Maybe he offered me… to give birth to his child, and then he would have killed me?”

“Focus on feelings, they are more important than words. We the writers often imagine a chain of events that doesn’t come true and becomes a story. At the Posthumous Ordeals, souls are shown something as a test on their earthly connections. If the soul is drawn to the earthly, the door to Heaven won’t open. You were immediately drawn to Athos, to the border of Heaven, a great sign, if not for the blockage of memory. What if you remember something binding you to Earth, or a loved one who is tormented in Hell, and you would like to be with him?”

“Ray… No, I remember him. I feel no pain communicating with him, no gaps in memory, although he had his own life, I had mine, it looked like an astral marriage. Ray was a powerful magician, but he used his abilities for selfish purposes. We met periodically, but he always knew everything about me, wherever he was. There was no point in jealousy, no one would ever replace him for me, and me for him. We understood each other silently. He taught me to slow down and stop Time, to move in Spaces, to change scenarios. He tried to teach me search work, but one step before the goal, I turned back, not trusting myself. He told me what he couldn’t share with others, and I told him as well. He accepted the real me, he saw the Sun in me and allowed me to shine, because he wasn’t afraid of being eclipsed. It was an invisible bond of perfectly matched souls that couldn’t be together, since I didn’t want to do black magic, and he didn’t want to give it up. Ray didn’t believe in Hell, Heaven, God, but he helped me when I felt bad, even after he left earthly body, he appeared, sensing that I was drowning, saved me and disappeared.”

“You won’t be able to cross the border until you’re tested for all attachments to the earthly. There’s clearly something in the erased Past!”

“Ray said I should do something, not remember everything.”

“Perhaps it will compensate the imbalance of Scales. If the memory doesn’t return, you’ll still be stuck here. Suppose you’ll do that good deed. Why until the 40^th day?”

“I’m confused and tired, Joice. I don’t want to think about anything!”

“Okay, I’ll read you my novel about the Apostle Peter, take a break. By the way, you probably shared your secrets with the Athos friends, since it’s easier to tell the most important and painful to someone who is out of your inner circle.”

Courtroom in the Universe

Joice’s words from the novel about St. Peter plunged me into the Mist. I was again in the hall with the huge Scales and the movie screen with frames from my life flashing on it. I saw unfamiliar faces in the Mist, saying that I ordered 40-days prayer in 40 monasteries for someone. And on the screen, I called the staff of the Patriarchate in Jerusalem and transferred the last money to them, then I called my friends and asked them to order the same prayer in the Kiev Pechersk Lavra, Optina Pustyn Monastery, on Greek Athos, and I ran through the monasteries that I knew in Moscow.

For whom was it? I heard voices in the Mist, “He betrayed her three times”. The winged creatures whispered among themselves. And one of them, with a cross in his hand, drove away from me the devil, who was whipping his tail in anticipation and squealing joyfully, “Ours!”