Читать книгу I am your woman! - Julia Rudenko - Страница 7

Nevertheless Lieutenant Garov, 23 years of age, left his native stanitsa. «Maybe, my wife will understand me, – he thought sitting on a pile of rolled canvas tents near a porthole of the plane „Rostov – Grozny“, – Anyway, other officers’ wives share life with their husbands. They have to travel with them and put up with their duties, don’t they?».

– Oh, young lieutenant! Flying for the first time? – a tender-hearted old man near him cried out.

– Yes, first, – Alex nodded.

– Want some water? I have some mineral water left. Have a drink?!

– No, thanks. I have myself. – Alex shouted in response and half closed his eyes as if he were dosing…

When in that Lera’s Opel he took her passionately, even violently he couldn’t imagine he would be her first man. Just think: a young lady drives along the deserted highway, then picks up a stranger and – what’s more! – is ready to give in to him… Alex wouldn’t have remembered her the next morning if he hadn’t discovered some blood on his trunks taking a shower and hadn’t compared this with Lera’s cry «Oh, it hurts!» when she lost her virginity.

– Mum! Do you know the Lavrovs?

– Of course I know! Everybody knows them! He is a market director, and she is the Chief public prosecutor.

– Oh, God! What I’ve done!

– What’s wrong, my boy? – Mother didn’t hear her son’s exclamation for the water was running in the shower cabin.

– Nothing special!.. Mum, I’m hungry! Awfully hungry!

The next evening he was waiting for Lera near the kindergarten. When she appeared the last beam of sunset fell right on his face. So he screwed his eyes a bit:

– Hello!

Suddenly Lera spoke in a manly voice:

– Kid, wake up! Wake up! We’ve just arrived. The flight is over.

Alex moved abruptly and opened his eyes. The warm-hearted old man was over him:

– We’ve come I say. Had a nap? Well, don’t hurry. We have a lot of time to disembark. They won’t take you back on board. They’ll fly back only tomorrow. With the dead. Here – with alive, back – with dead. Alive and dead. As the title of that novel. By the way, who’s the author of it? Some Russian chap… Ugh… I forgot. Slipped my mind. Oh, my cabbage head! Don’t you remember, lieutenant? – The old man was smiling.

Garov was ready to hit him at the jaw. He clinched his fists, but the old man noticed that and changed his face and tone.

– Please, don’t be angry for my words, – he said. – Neither you nor I want death and war. Neither you nor I started killing people. Others began that war – those who drive in luxurious cars and sit in cozy armchairs. They don’t see any blood, any grief, they’re just getting money. But it’s always not enough for them. They don’t care a straw who is me and who is you! Their fat life is the only thing they care! They’re not at war like Napoleon. Alas, guys like you are merely cannon fodder. Ad you’ll go to make exploits! What for? For their benefit?!

Alex couldn’t deny it. He was listening to the old man gloomily. He undid and clenched his fists.

The old man stopped speaking for some time, then continued in a quiet voice:

– I met Nino, my future wife on the 9th of May. Then it became a Victory day you know. She was just a girl. She left school and was going to enter the institute. But the war began. I was in a trench near Stalingrad in 1942 when I got a small parcel. Many soldiers got such parcels. So I opened it and saw a pair of knitted woolen socks. There was a photo and a small triangle letter in one of them… Our women in the rear gathered what they could for the parcels and sent them to the front line. It was Nino who’ d knitted the socks. Besides, she looked ahead: she would marry the man who would get those socks. She told me that later when our son was one… Then I looked at her photo – a smiling pretty girl she was. That photo touched my heartstrings. I recalled my dear home, cosy and warm. So I read her letter, learned what her name was. As it turned out, we’d lived in the same street in Grozny before the war. Strange as it may seem, the war helped me to find my love. So I answered her. We wrote to each other till the victory. In April, 45 I got wounded and was taken to hospital. Was discharged on the 1st of May, could walk on crutches only. Was sent back home. Nino came to meet me at the railway station, brought me a bouquet of tulips. In a year our son was born.

The old man paused. Then he continued his story:

– Nino died. But I live. Son died. But I live. Truly, I died too… We didn’t want to leave Grozny. But everyone left. Nino and I stayed alone. On the 2nd floor. We, old people, can’t look for a new home, wander from one flat to another. So as we thought it was high time for us to go to the better world. We had lived together for ages – so we would die together as well. As I thought. But it wasn’t so… I went away for half an hour …And it began: helicopters, fire, enemies… I saw our house crash down. It was exploded. When I was leaving Nino said: «I’ll have a rest, wait for you and then feed Vas’ka. Vas’ka is our cat. As you see she didn’t feed him.

Alex couldn’t help asking:

– And your son?

– My sonny died in the air-crash. He was a pilot. Now I’m coming back from my daughter-in-law. She lives in Rostov, with my granddaughter. She asked me to stay, but I can’t stay, Can’t live without Nino. It’s all the same for me – to die. Better to be buried near her.

– You two, get off! You can talk outside! – someone said.