Читать книгу A Man from the Future. 1856 - Евгений Платонов - Страница 36

Dressed in his new (or rather, old and someone else’s) frock coat, Dmitry went out into the street. The day was clear and cold, with a piercing wind. He walked toward Nevsky Prospect – the main street of St. Petersburg.

Nevsky amazed him. Of course, he’d seen this street in the twenty-first century thousands of times, but this was a completely different Nevsky. The buildings were the same – majestic palaces, mansions, churches – but the atmosphere was entirely different.

Along the street moved carriages – elegant coaches with coats of arms on their doors, simple cabs, heavy carts. Cabdrivers shouted at their horses. Along the sidewalks walked ladies in long dresses with umbrellas, gentlemen in top hats with walking sticks, merchants in expensive fur coats, students in worn overcoats.

The shops gleamed with displays – fashionable stores, jewelers, bookshops, confectioners. Doormen in livery stood at the entrances. It smelled of fresh sweet pastries, perfume, leather.

There it is, the grand St. Petersburg, Dmitry thought. A city of contrasts. At Sennaya – dirt and poverty, and here – luxury and wealth.

He went into various offices and shops, asking if they needed assistants, clerks, employees. Everywhere he got a polite but firm refusal:

“Sorry, sir, we have no openings.”

“We already have all the employees we need.”

“Do you have recommendations? No? Then, sorry, we can’t hire you.”

By noon he was tired and hungry. He went into a cheap eating house on a side street, ordered a bowl of shchi for five kopecks (almost his last money from what Rodion had lent him).

At the next table sat an elderly man with a gray beard, dressed simply but neatly – clearly a tradesman or minor official. He ate his shchi and kept glancing at Dmitry with curiosity.

“You’re not from around here, young man?” he finally asked.

“No, not from around here,” Dmitry answered. “I arrived recently, I’m looking for work.”

“Work?” the old man perked up. “What kind of work are you looking for?”

“Any, to be honest. I could work as a clerk, a teacher, an assistant in a shop. I have an education, I can read and write.”

“Education is good,” the old man nodded approvingly. “Without it nowadays you can’t get anywhere. And when did you study?”

“As a child,” Dmitry answered.

“And who taught you? Your parents?”

“My grandfather taught me. He was… a learned man.”

Not entirely a lie – Grandfather really did know a lot and loved books.

“A learned man!” the old man positively brightened. “Well that’s something! So you’re from a wealthy family. That’s good, very good. You know what, young man,” he leaned closer, “I have an acquaintance who runs a small school for merchants’ children. He needs an assistant just now – to teach the children reading and arithmetic. The pay is not much, of course – fifteen rubles a month, but the work is quiet, peaceful. Would you like an introduction?”

Dmitry nearly jumped with joy:

“Of course I would! Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, sir,” the old man smiled. “I can see you’re a good man. Young, of course, inexperienced, but with a good heart. And with a good heart, a man will find his place everywhere.”

Again about a good heart, Dmitry wondered. Why does everyone here say that? In the twenty-first century no one cares about your heart – the main thing is that your resume is right and you have work experience.