З життя
Сивина і руки, що трясуться: мудрість віку залишається.
Сиве волосся тремтіло, а руки ледве трималися. Вона була стара, проте розум тримався ясним. Щоранку вона прокидалася і, ще до початку нового дня, виходила в свій садок, щоб, звертаючись на схід сонця, молитися. Дякувала небесам за можливість прожити ще один день на землі, відчуваючи і смуток, і радість, і біль, і зцілення. Потім вона заварювала собі трав’яний чай, виходила на двір і сідала на лавку під вікном. Чекала.
Сьогодні повз її будинок, який стояв при дорозі, проходив чоловік. Було видно, що його щось турбувало, і на серці лежав важкий камінь нерозв’язних турбот. Зупинився біля огорожі і подивився на стару жінку, яка тримала в тремтячих руках чашку. Ганна усміхнулася йому й жестом запросила зайти.
Чоловік випив чашку гарячого трав’яного чаю, і йому стало легше на душі. Ганна задоволено кивнула і взялася до роботи.
— Одного разу ти прокинешся і зрозумієш, що світ ніколи вже не буде таким, як раніше. Те, що було цінним учора, сьогодні втратило всякий сенс, — говорила Ганна, перебираючи пучки сухих трав. — У цьому житті є тільки те, що ти відчуваєш і бачиш зараз.
Чоловік, опустивши голову і сумно усміхнувшись, почав говорити:
— Як би я хотів віддати усі багатства світу, щоб повернути те, що було цінним учора. Як би я хотів, щоб ніколи не настало сьогодні з його новою цінністю. Адже те, що я любив більше за життя, залишилося у день вчорашній.
У мене з дружиною не було дітей. Так вийшло, що вона не могла їх мати. А я просто любив її за те, що вона була у мене. Наше життя було сповнене сенсу любові один до одного.
А потім у нас з’явився Шурик. Спочатку маленький, смішний і незграбний. Він робив калюжі в прихожій, а ввечері скавчав біля ліжка, і заспокоювався тільки тоді, коли дружина брала його до нас. Він, радісно виляючи хвостиком, облизував їй обличчя і, згорнувшись клубочком, засинав між нами.
Шурик став нашим дитям. Він виріс на наших очах. Він беззаперечно любив нас і журився, коли нас довго не було вдома.
Коли ми їхали подорожувати, то він завжди був з нами. А як інакше, адже це наша дитина, яка завжди має бути з нами.
Одного разу ми приїхали на величезне озеро. Чиста вода, синє небо і нікого навкруги. Я поставив намет, розпалив вогнище, накачав човен і поплив на середину озера, щоб наловити риби. Дружина з Шуриком залишилися на березі, бавились. Мої найдорожчі у світі істоти!
Я не чув і не бачив, як під’їхала машина. Люте гавкання Шурика я прийняв за гру, він завжди голосно гавкав, коли бавився. І лише коли до мене долинув крик дружини, я зрозумів, що трапилась біда.
Я гріб до берега з усіх сил, але не встиг.
Безживне тіло дружини лежало біля нашого автомобіля, поруч з нею лежав Шурик і з відчаєм дивився мені в очі, з рани на животі текла кров. Мені вдалося його врятувати, але прожив він недовго, лише пів року. Шурик, так само як і я, любив свою матір, мою дружину. Без неї його життя не мало сенсу.
А без них моє життя не має сенсу. А ви кажете, те, що було цінним учора, сьогодні втратило сенс.
Ганна слухала його, а пальці не переставали перебирати трави. Вона вбирала його слова і, відпускала їх на волю, очищуючи від гіркоти втрати. Зайшовши в дім, вона вийшла з нього з бульбашкою з каламутною рідиною.
— Все, що відбувається в житті людини, трапляється не просто так. Щось робить нас сильнішими, щось навпаки — слабшими, але в будь-якому разі, це нас чомусь навчає. А наше завдання винести правильні уроки. Твоє горе безмірне, і я не маю права вчити тебе, але одне хочу сказати, ти живеш тут і зараз. І ти не знаєш, що буде цінним завтра, адже воно, наступаючи, перетворюється на сьогодні.
Візьми ці краплі. Додавай увечері в чай, щоб твої сни були спокійними.
Чоловік опустив бульбашку в кишеню і пішов у напрямку хвіртки. Ганна сіла на лавку і спостерігала за ним, похитуючи головою.
Щойно він віддалився від дому при дорозі, як побачив попереду маленький клубочок, схожий на Шурика. Такий же маленький, смішний і незграбний. По щоці потекла сльоза, яку злизав кумедний клубочок, притиснутий до грудей.
— Одного разу ти прокинешся і зрозумієш, що світ ніколи вже не буде таким, як раніше. Те, що було цінним учора, сьогодні втратило всякий сенс, — говорила Ганна, перебираючи пучки сухих трав.
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Bitterness at the Bottom of My Soul “The children’s home has been waiting for you for ages! Get out of our family!” I screamed with a trembling voice. The target of my wild indignation was my cousin, Dima. God, how I loved him as a child! Blond hair, bright blue eyes, cheerful nature — that was Dima. …Relatives often gathered around the festive table. Of all my cousins, I singled out Dima. He could spin tales with his tongue like a lace maker and he drew brilliantly. Sometimes he would churn out five or six sketches an evening. I would stare, entranced by their beauty, quietly gathering his drawings and hiding them in my desk. I carefully treasured my cousin’s artwork. Dima was two years older than me. When he turned 14, his mother died—gone so suddenly, she just didn’t wake up… The question arose—what would happen to Dima? Naturally, they first turned to his father, but finding him was no easy feat. He and Dima’s mother were long divorced, and the new family “couldn’t be disturbed.” The rest of the relatives just shrugged: “We have our own families, our own problems.” Turns out, during the day, family is there, but come nightfall, not a soul to be found. So, with two kids of their own, my parents became Dima’s guardians—after all, Dima’s late mother was my dad’s younger sister. At first, I was happy that Dima would be living with us. But then… On his very first day in our home, Dima’s behavior set me on edge. To comfort her orphaned nephew, my mum asked, “Is there anything you’d like, Dima? Don’t be shy, just say.” And Dima immediately replied, “A model train set.” Now, this wasn’t a cheap toy. I was shocked—your mum just died, the most important person in your life, and all you want is a train set? How could you even think of that? But my parents immediately bought him his dream. Then it was, “Buy me a tape player, jeans, a designer jacket…” This was the eighties, mind you, and not only was this stuff pricey, but it was impossible to get. My parents made sacrifices for the orphan, even at our own expense. My brother and I understood and didn’t complain. …When Dima turned sixteen, he discovered girls. And he wasn’t afraid to show his affection. Worse yet, he started making advances toward me—his own cousin. But as a sporty girl, I skillfully dodged his unwelcome attention. We’d even come to blows. I would cry and cry. I never told my parents—they didn’t need the heartache. Kids don’t talk about such things. After I fended him off, Dima wasted no time turning to my friends, who actually competed for his attention. …But Dima was also a shameless thief. I remember my piggy bank: saving on school lunches to buy presents for my parents, only to find it empty one day! Dima denied everything—didn’t bat an eye, didn’t blush, just outright lied. It broke my heart. How could he steal while living under our roof? He was wrecking our family from within, but Dima really didn’t understand why I was upset. He truly believed everyone owed him. I began to hate him. That’s when I finally screamed at him: “Get out of our family!” I lashed him with my words—said things that can never be taken back… My mum barely managed to calm me. From that day on, Dima ceased to exist for me. I ignored him completely. Later, I learned the other relatives knew what a “character” Dima was—they lived nearby and seen it all. Our family lived across town. Even Dima’s former teachers warned my parents: “You’re making a big mistake. Dima will ruin your other children too.” …At a new school, he met Katy—she loved Dima all her life. She married him straight out of school. They had a daughter, and Katy put up with his lies and cheating without protest. As they say: single life is hardship, married life is double. Dima joined the Army, stationed in Scotland. There, he started another family—he somehow managed it during leave. When his service ended, he stayed in Scotland. He had a son there. Katy, not hesitating, went after him and, by hook or by crook, brought him back home. My parents never received a word of thanks from cousin Dima—not that they expected it. Now, fifty years on, Dmitri is an active member of the local Anglican church. He and Katy have five grandchildren. On the surface, all seems well, but the bitterness of life with Dima remains… No amount of sugar could ever sweeten it.
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