Very bad English / Очень плохой English

I tuned in on Monday, dressed, fed a starving flock behind the aquarium glass as it chatted about the weather, and rushed outside.

Indeed, it was drizzling in the morning, adding colors, or rather, depths to the surrounding landscape. Trees and flowers, washed and elegant, could be depicted on a canvas… I was again agitated by the thoughts of my abandoned painting and saved from other thoughts of an unknown author.

Opening the laboratory doors, I finally calmed down. Strangely enough, I didn't remember about the damn letter until the evening…

Eva's diary:

August 23, 1998.

Sunday.

It can be very difficult to start a conversation, even with the closest.

It seems like the words are stuck in the tongue, clinging to its papillae, and the only thing left is to swallow them.

Mom, I hope you never read these lines.

I write all these words, because otherwise I will suffocate or burst under the pressure.

They are so prickly.

I hate myself because I allow these thoughts appear.

«The world is full of surprises!» you reassured me when I was bored. You made me believe in the most incredible stories in order to cheer me up.

You gave me new books, believing that they could distract me from sad thoughts…

Chapter 4

Something That Remains

August pampered with warm weather. I lived in anticipation of a wonderful trip. I Googled and chose the most interesting tours. A tour to Croatia was my most tremulous and crystal dream.

Actually, I like traveling. All the money I save thanks to my Spartan lifestyle I spend on this particular type of human activity. I also make small sketches and photograph monuments or landscapes from an unusual angle. I collect impressions, writing down the very first thoughts that come to mind, as soon as I set foot in a new country.

Nothing overshadowed my preparations for departure. Nothing extraordinary or even a little unusual. No letters or calls.

Silence.

I decided to drop by Doremi the next day to say goodbye, and arrive to Moscow in two days. I would spend a night in Izmailovo, and get on my next plane in the morning. This time straight to Dubrovnik!

Long live the sea, relaxation, new experiences, meetings and again…

Long live the sea!!!

In the most joyful and carefree mood, I opened the doors of the university dormitory without even paying attention to some kind of a dull blow behind me. Behind the doors leading to my abode…

He was still alive when I came in. The man was lying on the floor. His eyes turned to the sky were open. In fact, the sky was replaced by the high ceiling of our five-story dormitory.

Perhaps this was some last impulse… He extended his hand to me and said:

«Now the thread is broken!»

His hand trembled, and he somehow immediately changed his face, as if petrified.

I stood at the door, unable to move. This stranger was the first dead man I've ever seen…

The spiral staircase is not the most successful invention of mankind. It rushes up, steep and narrow.

Oddly enough, I was not sick, and there were no unpleasant sensations. I looked at him like an empty vessel. Like a body that life just slipped out of…

Eva's diary:

January 23, 1999.

Saturday.

Alone. Alone. Alone…

If you ever burned to blisters, and then the skin came off, leaving moist red circles, then you can understand how painful it is! Taska probably cannot accept this decision completely.

But our parents are adamant.

Mom has her new love, father has his insult.

I really wanted to hug Taska goodbye, but she froze like a mummy… No. I literally felt her spines grow. I was afraid to approach her.

I just brushed away the tears, got into the car and no longer looked in her direction. When the car started, I looked around. It seemed to me that my sister, not believing in everything that was happening, extended her neck, looking at the trail of the departing car…

Chapter 5

Doremi

I met Doremi in September two thousand and eight. We were twenty-three, and we came to the first composition lesson of the first year of evening art school.

Doremi was a very handsome young man dressed in a white embodied sweater, which emphasized his natural attractiveness extremely. I was sitting to his right, behind the others by the window, examining the crowd, but from time to time I turned to admire the big brown curls of the stranger.

He felt my tenacious gaze with his back, stood up and, moving his chair, sat next to me. This is how our friendship began.

I believe it was friendship.

Our tastes and habits coincided. All but one… Doremi was a complete romantic and monogamous. His first love, a girl with a rare name Kira, long ago left their native Khabarovsk when Doremi was sixteen, not even suspecting his feelings.

For some time, he tried to find her on the network and did not lose hope, but so far this has not brought any results.

The girl seemed to evaporate… Perhaps, of course, she just got married and changed her name, or even used some strange nickname. Besides, she knew Doremi under a different name…

When his parents, young surgeons who worked at the Oncology Clinical Center, were expecting their first child, they asked God for one thing:

«Lord! Send us a girl. We've come up with a name for her. We'll call her Sophia! God, you will not allow our hopes collapse. And we don't have any suitable name for the boy! Unless it's Dormidont!»

God must not have heard their prayers.

Or he had completely different plans…

Or perhaps he took the appeal of future parents as a challenge or a joke, and thus he made a joke himself. Of course, we can assume that he simply liked this name…

But in due time a strong and healthy baby was born. It was a boy. A beautiful dark-haired boy!

Doremi's parents had no choice but to nod three times in agreement, when an elderly registry office employee who had seen a lot in her life repeated her question three times, wrapping it in various words:

«A very unusual name… Greek. Ancient. So shall I write: D-O-R-M-I-D-O-N-T?»

«Exactly,» the young parents answered, not at all embarrassed.

«Is this someone's honor?» The employee inquired, losing any enthusiasm in her voice.

«It means a condition of the Agreement,» young people uttered simultaneously.

«Agreement? Interesting… You know, yesterday we registered another rare name here. Not as harmonious as yours of course. Imagine a boy named Nestor! So, I shall write „Dormidont“?» Kind woman specified for the last time.

«Yes Yes!» His parents nodded.

Doremi was lucky.

When there was a roll call in the first grade of school number nineteen, a dozen ordinary names were called besides his rare name: Zakhar, Sevostyan, Ilya, Kirill, Vasily, Grigory… Therefore, the boy had no problems with nicknames. No one paid particular attention to the unusualness of his name, which had its own history, moreover, quite beautiful.

The first time young man seriously wondered if he should change his name was when he applied for physics at Tomsk State University. A young girl from the admissions committee could not even repeat it without distorting it.

Therefore, at the age of twenty, when passport replacement was required, Doremi received a new passport which stated:

Dorian Vsevolodovich Cooper.

When Dorian told me the whole story, I remembered my parents and since then no longer believed that their experiment was cruel…

Dormidont's parents were far more inventive.

However, I came up with another short name:

Doremi.

It turned out somehow very musically, and he got used to it immediately. Since we were also involved in high art, being in a good mood I sometimes called him Doremi Gray.

Like Dorian Gray…

This is the story.

In any case, his watercolor portrait painted by me on my third year of art school now hangs on the left side wall of Doremi's huge hallway, right above the large black leather sofa, reflected in the glass cabinets along the opposite wall.

Art teachers often asked Doremi to pose. From time to time, he agreed to pose during painting classes. He continued doing so even when studying at art school became a memory.

I always admired Doremi's kind of sacrifice, or desire to be useful. A rare quality nowadays, isn't it?

I like everything about him.

Absolutely everything.

I'm already used to some of his oddities. I even start thinking that this is exclusively his zest. In general, it's a great blessing to have a friend who thinks just like you, and can tell honestly what bothers him without looking for excuses in order to evade an inconvenient conversation.

I trust Doremi unconditionally. Therefore, I inform about my long-term plans or short-term desires as they mature…

Now, standing outside the dorm, I called him and said that I could not stay at home.

«Something happened?» Asked Doremi. «It's a nightmare… I'll tell you when I come! Do you have something to drink?» I whispered in a broken voice.

«The whole bar is at your disposal!» Answered Doremi…

Eva's diary:

April 23, 2000.

Sunday.

Who invented this Odigo?

The net is full of morons!!!

Taska, don't be such a bore, ask dad for a new computer for your birthday!

Fifteen is no joke…

Mom gave me a dress, a real American Victoria's Secret!

It's so delicate, creamy with small pink flowers!!!

There are fifteen pearl side buttons to make it more beautiful…

HOORAY!!!

Chapter 6

What the Dead Man Said

«So stupid! Imagine the very first thing that came to me when I saw him lying on the floor with wide open, surprised eyes was „Where are his shoes?“»

«His shoes?» Doremi asked.

«Well yes! Shoes always betray the owner.»

I looked at my black pumps with a slight condemnation and continued:

«It literally slips off the feet, like: „I have nothing to do with it!“ Once, though from a distance, I saw a young girl knocked down at an intersection… Explain how a long zipped boot could be five to seven meters away from the body?»

«I never thought of such things… I probably haven't seen anything like it! Thank God!» Answered Doremi.

At that moment, it seemed to me that Dorian's thoughts were far, far away and he was rather an answering machine, absorbed in his kind of gloomy thoughts.

«So what did he say?» Asked Doremi, still scattered, and sat next to me.

«What did he say? He said that now the thread was broken!» I repeated the words of the former resident of our university dormitory.

After a pause Dorian stood up, silently opened the cupboard and took out a bottle of cognac. Then he brought bellied wine glasses and poured cognac without disturbing the silence. He held the amber liquid in his hands for a while and shook it, and then drank, still immersed in thoughts.

I took a wooden toothpick, pierced an olive, so that it did not stick out with a sharp tip, and put it into my mouth.

«I don't understand how you can eat olives!» I was amazed when I noticed that Doremi's olive jar was almost empty, while mine was still quite half!

We almost finished with a bottle of inexpensive cognac that Doremi kept just in case, just to relieve stress, without any frills.

«All this fits very well into one of my theories,» said my incredibly mysterious friend, scratching his left hand.

And then, looking at me, as if reading the last phrase in my eyes, he said:

«It's all the same. Black and green olives. It's a typical Russian chip. The whole world knows this is the same sort of fruit.»

«Don't tell me they grow on the same tree!» I was almost indignant, knowing what will follow next if I take the wrong berry.

«Absolutely! It's only about the method of cooking and nothing more!» Dorian was triumphant and, apparently, was finally able to «return to reality»…

In any case, he was no longer as indifferent as he seemed when I came. And I got a serious hope that he would help me cope with the unexpected and, in my opinion, completely untimely experience…

«Oh well! What are you talking about, what the hell is your theory?» I almost pleaded.

«People disregard an important fact: everything in the world is calculated to the smallest detail. It is impossible for each and everyone to be on their own! The boomerang of events returns all the missing details, capturing a whole layer at the same time… Losses can vary from a minimum of one person, for example, to an entire people. All in order to return the event thread to the desired segment. Right?

„My God, Doremi! What a philosophy… You want to say that this nice man, leaving his shoes at the entrance and the open family album on the table, stepped into the Abyss just to fulfill some obscure plan of the universe?“ I asked with a note of disbelief.

„… The thread broke!“ Remember?»

«So what? I don't understand what it means!» I got up and, raising my hands to heaven, said:

«Lord, you work in mysterious ways!»

«My dear Tanya, just imagine. On the other side of our planet, or, as you say, „on the edge of the world“, somewhere in America, there is the same kind man, abandoned and completely lonely… And at the very moment of wild despair, when a thick, black hopelessness surging through almost verged on madness, he opened a window on a seventy-seventh floor of a skyscraper and also lost his shoes, but already on the first floor. In a nutshell, this is my theory of the mirror or the strings of astral twins.»

«Wait, Dor, why am I hearing about this for the first time? Well, I can understand the numerology which you are keen on. I almost love it already! Of course, not as much and comprehensive as my wonderful palmistry… But I think that today I am no longer able to accept anything else…»

I looked at the empty bottle, then at the old watch restored by my friend Doremi, and realized that if I don't go to bed now, tomorrow can come only after dinner. The hands of the wall clock in a wooden case depicted a seagull, showing one fifty. A lot of things were waiting for me in the morning…

Dorian brought a blanket. Putting my beloved gray elephant filled with small granules under my head, I lay on the sofa in the huge hallway, and immediately fell asleep.

Eva's diary:

September 23, 2001.

Sunday.

At first I couldn't even believe…

Thank you, mommy!!!

Finally!

Now I have my own, brand new phone!

Not the best color though… But it's not black either!

When I chose a number in the shop, I didn't even notice that it ends in numbers:

…85-23-04.

After all, it's my and Taska's birth date!

I think it's a Sign!

Hope it's a lucky one!

I wonder if dad already bought Taska a phone?

Chapter 7

Boeing 737

I woke up and breathed a sigh of relief…

What a dream I had! A lot of stories simultaneously, and the feeling that my dream was broadcast from different video channels…

First a falling plane at Chicago city airport. It fell so slowly that it flew exactly between two skyscrapers… One wing was broken on the asphalt, the other was directed towards the sky. It seemed that all the passengers survived. I remember in a dream I thought: «Why do they show me all this?…»

But someone behind the scenes said that all this was only a preview or a delayed disaster, a rehearsal… Then I saw myself walking around Belgrade downtown. Old trams overtook me, ringing when making a turn. I was going to the hotel, but instead I found myself in a women's shoe store.

I looked around, but in vain. There were no other shoes except black, of different style.

Then I wandered along the cobblestones until I ended up in Izmailovo. I bought hot wings at KFC and beer in a pavilion next to the hotel, and went to my room…

Number 2323.

Although it was a dream, before waking up, I thought: «What the hell!»

At home, quickly collecting my travel bag, I went down to the first floor and asked the guard to keep all my correspondence until I return, if there would be one.

«Have a good rest, Tanya! You are so pale!» Said Aunt Zoe, our permanent guard.

Time passed quickly in Moscow, and at night I had a flight to Croatia.

Boeing 737, about 180 passengers. At the reception, I asked for the 14th or 15th row. I love when the distance between the seats is greater, after all, it's near to emergency exit. We took off fine, gained altitude, and the whole flight went well.

We flew up to Dubrovnik. The captain announced that the plane was completely ready for a descent…

We were going down, and I could swear I already saw the tops of the trees and the signal lights of the landing strip, when suddenly the plane soared up into the sky again. The city flashed invitingly with the lights of high houses and a dotted line of bright lanterns that seemed to be curves of expressways.

Our plane, desperately flapping its wings, tried to cope with strong gusts of wind and, making another circle, began to descend again, but this time directly to the lane. When the chassis touched the ground, I felt the seat belt tighten, and leaned forward…

How many times have I said prayers while we were landing and before the engines stopped?

I said the Lord's prayer probably a hundred times, and another hundred was a prayer to the Virgin… I think that no one on board even thought about it.

I prayed for everyone. I always feel when the situation is abnormal… For some reason, I am «fortunate» in this sort of things.

«Dear passengers, this is board commander. We landed at the airport of Dubrovnik. The weather is great, plus 26 degrees. I wish you a pleasant stay and thank you for using the services of our airline. The crew hopes that in the future you will choose our company…»

«Yeah!..»

«Ladies and Gentlemen, we are…» the commander continued his greeting in other language.

I felt a thin stream of icy sweat on my spine. Heck! It seems I crossed the line again!

I took a taxi and drove up to the hotel, settled in the room…

My brain was gone! I looked out and stared at the door.

Number 2323.

What could I say? Doremi was right, there are no accidents, everything in the world is played out on notes!

That's it. I need to distract myself… I turned on the TV. There was news…

When I left the shower, the correspondent shared the latest news about the crash of a Boeing 737 over the Alps a few hours ago…

I froze, unable to move. Doremi was right again! The mirror theory worked! I begged for life for the passengers of our Boeing, but the boomerang of death was launched and hit another plane… Perhaps there was not a single person who could fight the curse so fiercely, constantly turning to God?

Or I was very lucky today…

I went down to the bar and ordered coffee with cognac. Then I dialed Eva's number…

Eva's diary:

June 23, 2002.

Sunday.

Mom says medical school is not for me.

And since Taska and I were born on April 23, we are obliged to write poetry and study philology…

So what if Shakespeare was born on April 23?[3]

Poems… Poetry is not profitable! I don't think you can earn a living with poetry, rather the opposite…: —))

Although Taska writes something and then hides it, since she was a child!

That is nonsense!

Chapter 8

Morning Always Comes of a Sudden…

I went up to my room and called Eva's home, because her mobile phone was unavailable:

«Hello…»

«Is Eva at home?» I asked, without any hope.

«No. She is with the children at the rink today. Will be in a couple of hours. Tanyusha, is that you?» answered Igor, Eva's husband, in his most casual voice.

And again I was indignant… How can one be so restrained with the occupation he had? If I were a pathologist, I would enjoy every manifestation of life… Although, probably, every profession has its own distortions.

«That's me.»

«Why so gloomy, dear?» He asked.

«Listen, Igor Leonidovich, I'm really sick. I don't even know whether to tell you or to leave it…»

«Leave it. I'm telling you! Yes, and go to bed. You know, my girl, morning is wiser than the evening!»

Igor seemed to be smiling. I smiled at him too.

But no! I just tried to smile back, but my strength somehow suddenly left me. I slowly walked over to the mirror and removed the hoop earrings.

Then I pulled off my jeans and threw a worn top. I fluffed the pillow and fell asleep.

The last thought that flickered in my blurred mind was: «Thank God I'm alive!»

Morning always comes of a sudden…

First there is night, night and darkness… And suddenly, cannonades of sounds explode at once: the sound of a tram, the howling of the wind, the rustle of car tires… The head is buzzing, but you can raise it.

God, how could I become so limp! I opened the window. Morning burst into my room with a cascade of unusual sounds and smells. It smelled of sea and flowers. An amazing cocktail of incredible freshness and triumph of nature.

It seemed that the Universe had long ago forgiven me for yesterday's weakness and was already preparing the most fantastic adventures. I only had to show a hint of interest. But…

I went to the mirror.

The mirror obviously flattered me: no dark circles under my eyes, no bruising on my face. Like an innocent baby! I looked closely…

You are old, mirror! Just like I love. I love to look in slightly unclear mirrors like this one. My face looks as if covered with an invisible film of time and acquires some inexplicable radiance coming from within… Either the soul, as I believe, or the mirror itself, which is also quite likely.

Winking at myself in the mirror, I unpacked my suitcase and chose a dark blue gauze dress. It was pretty cool, and it was perfect for the first outing in the city.

That day I planned only a walk and a trip to the Aquarium. Doremi talked my ears off, talking about his last year's impressions, and took my word that it was on my first day in Dubrovnik that I would go straight there and report back online.

Doremi, of course, had his own oddities, but this did not compare with his merits. Therefore, I did not complain. If he wanted me to be in the Aquarium, well, so be it!

As soon as I gathered my hair in a bun, the phone vibrated:

«Why didn't you call back yesterday?» Eva asked, trying to sound serious, but I felt she was smiling.

«Well, I'm sorry. I got nervous. That damn plane barely landed on the second attempt,» I replied.

«Typical you! Flew somewhere again. Where are you this time?»

«I'm in Dubrovnik! Didn't I tell you? Well this was my dream since last year!» I exclaimed.

«Don't forget to bring me a magnet! When are you going back?» My sister asked.

«I'm planning to go to Spain for a short while… But I will be home in two weeks.»

«Have a great time there!»

«Roger that!» I closed the door and headed for the elevator.

Eva's diary:

November 23, 2003.

Sunday.

It's 1 a. m.!

Mom just went to bed…

This histo[4] will drive me crazy!

It's good that mom is so pitiful. I gotta kiss her tomorrow.

We spent the whole evening drawing cartilage and bone tissues!

I didn't expect mom having such a talent…: —))

Pasha said she could draw a map.

Pasha's mother arrived at the November holidays and also helped him draw connective tissues!

That's it!

I'm going to bed.

Chapter 9

The Aquarium

The most remarkable thing that, without a doubt, makes the morning good, is a cup of the right black coffee. Thanks to my student mate Olga, I acquired this good habit and stick to it until now, especially on vacation.