Читать книгу A Flower Ungodly - Антон Прус - Страница 6

Sad thoughts came and went, but my whole consciousness was engulfed in the flames of love. It was impossible to live without love. Love was necessary. And a necessity always finds a way to materialize sooner or later. From lack of freedom, my soul quietly dried up like a pair of socks left by the fire, and love – while providing some distraction – accelerated the process, so by the second year of service, my soul looked like fish jerky. A human in love is like a chicken with its head cut off – it still runs, but, in essence, it has already died. And a seventeen-year-old cadet in love inside a military incubator is a mad and ridiculous creature. Why I decided that I was in love, I don’t know. I just did. Maybe because Sveta – my classmate, no, I’d known her since kindergarten – was the only girl who did not succumb to my innocent proposals to examine and touch each other’s private parts. All the other girls in my kindergarten group quickly agreed to this harmless game. Sveta was an angel, both because of her purity and because she sang in an angelic voice while playing her guitar.

Moonlit panorama,

Night as clear as day.

Sleep, my sweet Svetlana,

Sleep the night away.

Little nose is nestled

In the pillow soft;

Stars are just like freckles

Shining from aloft.

She did have the prettiest little nose, although freckleless. I thought about her at school, I thought about her while fishing, during the exams, dreamily resting my cheek on my hand, thought about her at the academy while standing in formation, thought about her when falling asleep and waking up. The only moments I did not think about her was whenever our room was engaged in group masturbation. I couldn’t picture someone as pure as her during this enjoyable yet shameful activity. I must say, it turns out that I did not think about Sveta quite often. At any rate, my face towel became rigid like a tin sheet in a single week… I visited her at the edge of Kupchino; swamps and lakes overgrown with reeds started right behind her house. She sat at the table studying for her music school entrance exams, and I sat on the couch where she slept. Knowing this, I was close to losing consciousness: here, she lies undressed, resting her beautiful head on the pillow, touching the sheets with her bare legs… and I touch the same couch with my buttocks.

I knew I looked stupid just sitting there. Coming all this way to sit still for hours. So I took her big toy dog to comb it instead of staying motionless. I came to see Sveta five times, and I combed the unfortunate dog each time. It became manicured like a lawn in front of a Scottish castle. Sveta was already giving me funny looks, and I understood that it was a little bizarre to sit and comb the dog like that, especially since it was already so smooth that it could win the world championship for the smoothest toy dog hairstyle! To be honest, I didn’t just look at Sveta. Sometimes I hugged her. Yes, I hugged Sveta, but not really her, but rather, a sleeping bag. Once at school, or not even at school, but in the summer, at a pioneer camp, we harvested carrots for a whole month. When the shift ended, I asked her to lend me her sleeping bag. I said there weren’t enough sleeping bags to go fishing with the boys and that we needed just one. I, in fact, came up with all of this to at least talk with her coherently about something. So we talked, and she gave me her sleeping bag. But when I brought it home, I, of course, could not resist hugging and sniffing this sleeping bag. And maybe imagining Sveta in its place a little bit. The sleeping bag smelled of Sveta. Only its middle part had an unpleasant odor, but I achingly sniffed that part and was not at all angry with my love for smelling like that.

The sleeping bag was back at home, and I was in the barracks, so there was nothing to hug or sniff, and I had to pick where to go on leave: to the sleeping bag or to the living Sveta? In the end, I chose the real girl. But Sveta didn’t know that we had closer contact – I’m talking about the sleeping bag – and again looked at me funny, probably because I was sitting on the sofa with half-closed eyes, combing the dog. Then I plucked up the courage, moved to her table, and my hand slowly started to sneak up to her hand. It took ages. I watched my hand in horror while it lived its own life, almost touching Sveta’s, then crawling back and climbing into the sleeve. Then I mentally commanded it to act, and it quietly covered Sveta’s little hand. Sveta smiled and said that she couldn’t write like that. But I no longer needed any words; I didn’t even listen, didn’t hear them, beautiful poetry sounded in my ears, and I immediately began to write it down right in the taxi on my way back to the academy, and I called it – Sonnet #1

If I love selflessly, then let the whole world love you!

If I love tenderly, then you’re my only one!

In my eyes, nobody could come above you,

My love for you will be forever young!

I was smiling when my taxi neared the barracks, and I beamed at the realization that I had no money to pay for said taxi. The car stopped, I was AWOL – I escaped from the barracks without a leave. But my happiness was so great, I held her imaginary hand in my hand and flaming verses – talented and beautiful – in my heart! I opened the taxi window and, again with a grin, shouted to our platoon commander Goncharov.

«Sir!» – my face shining in the darkness like a lantern – «Can I have five rubles for the taxi!»

The sergeant was so shocked by my impudence that he pulled out a banknote and gave it to the driver. To me, he only said, «We’ll talk later.» But what we talked about later, I, of course, do not remember.