We will meet again

Alex Brand

We will meet again

Where to begin? Perhaps, from the fact that today is especially beautiful sunset. The magnificent riot of heavenly colors, from pale blue to glowing pink-red. And all this is permeated with white fluffy strokes of clouds slowly floating in the inaccessible height of the clouds. We can see how after few movements of the invisible brush in the hands of celestial wind-artist these foggy white strokes assembling… Look! The face… The fathomless eyes slowly opened and looked down for a moment – a blue dip on a white, surrounded by the tongues of the sunset flame. Another moment – and they will disappear to be opened in another place, to look again and again.

Why not? We can begin with the cloudy eyes looked at – what? What did they manage to see in the short minutes of ephemeral existence? The vast city sprawling on the banks of the majesty-flowing river spread across the banks of the city. No, not that. The magnificent royal palace illuminated by multi-colored searchlights? No. The glance slides farther, to where it is quiet, where the sea of lights gradually dies away. There, where darkness is interspersed with islands of soft, homely light. Yellow, warm. The majestic walls of the palace dissolve into the twilight of the coming evening. One small town, another. But a gust of cool April wind comes and the little cloud disappears under its pressure. The wind flies, flies … Further, below … Here came the pointed roofs, narrow ancient streets, pavements and pavements of the old uneven stone. Windows, wooden shutters, massive carved doors with cast bronze handles, polished for hundreds of years and thousands of hands touching them. A small church at the intersection of two streets. Round square, the path to the closed high lancet entrance. In the rays of the setting sun, stained-glass windows, dark gray lead covers gleam. The faces of the saints majestically gazing at the worldly vanity, wide-open, stern eyes, prostrate, stretched out in blessing. So it was and so it will be. Stone lips whisper quietly – we remember. We remember how … Long, long ago … A modest wedding in the silence of an almost empty, booming room. The bride and groom, a few friends. The low voice of the priest, the eternal question. And the eternal answer. She pronounced it in French – '' oui ''. The groom's hand, no, already her husband, slightly squeezed her hot fingers, encouraging and confirming – “oui…”. From now and forever. Till death do them part.

She smiled with pale lips, ran her tongue over them. Dry. How thirsty she is … Last days thirst, constant thirst burns her from the inside. Son said that she cannot drink much. He is a doctor and his words should be listened to. She tried. But … Today she felt that it already possible. Possible to drink plenty. A hand reached for the button, stopped for a moment – and lay back on a light blanket. Not. She doesn't want to call anyone, doesn't want to see anyone. Not now. She herself. Herself. Son ordered the decanter with water to be removed from the bedside table and allowed to drink according to a personal schedule. Doctor. A bitter smile twisted her lips – it would be better if he was just a son now. He is shackled by the chains of his profession, of filial duty, not realizing that this simply suffocates her, does not allow her … Does not allow her to finally free herself. Today … Well, she was always diligent and punctual. Perhaps that's enough. She lifted herself with an effort in the dim light of the room, squinting at the closed door. She turned her eyes to the medical equipment console lonely standing in the corner – a device for drip infusion, a heart monitor with a telemetry attachment, an apparatus for measuring pressure, an oxymeter. Is that really important how much oxygen is in her blood now? Something else gleaming with metal, plastic, glass. Buttons, screens, tubes, wires. All this is dead, disabled. Three days ago she demanded it. Son refused at first. He argued, insisted, convinced. Chided. Not. Oh, how well he knows her ''no''… Everyone knows. For fifty years she learned to pronounce it well. And those to whom it addressed, even better remembers – it's useless to argue. It will be as she wants. And what she does not want – will not to be. So the multicolored rainbow of lights in the room went out, the hum of the oxygen apparatus fell silent. All this she no longer needs. And there was a silence in which she heard the world outside the window, which she ordered to open wide. The world came to her – a gust of wind, singing birds in dense crowns, the smell of lilac and jasmine. The world called her and she whispered – soon…

The bed is closed with a special rising wall after she tried to get up and could not hold onto her weak legs. The hip pierced pain when she sat down, leaning on the tubular barrier. How dizzy she is, her fingers tightened on the cold smooth metal with all their might. Hold on! A thought flashed for a moment – why? Why try to get up? What for? She can lie back on a soft pillow, press a button. A nurse will come and help. She will persuade her to bring water, a lot of cool water … And they will not say anything to her son, it will be their secret. In response, the fingers clenched even more. Not! Not today, not now. Just not now. She looked at the door again, didn’t it open … Everything is quiet. So, now she can gently press here, at the head. A small smooth ledge, she found it herself a few days ago. A small click – and the wall smoothly went down, gliding silently in the slots. Now, she must lower her legs, find the floor with them … How dizzy, the thin ringing growing in the ears, has darkened in her eyes. Or not… May be the evening shade just gathering in the corners of the room… A mattress slightly bent under her palms. She shuddered feeling the soft roundness of air chambers under a thin sheet. Her hands jerked away and got on the knees themselves. She gritted her teeth in an effort to keep straight, not to stagger, not to fall. She does not want to touch this. Air mattress against bedsores, another manifestation of filial care, the latest model. Against the bedsores … She must get up. A gust of cool wind from an open window touched her face, she inhaled it with a full chest, as was it once… Many, many years ago, when she first crossed the threshold of this ancient house. Dry, cracked lips smiled, she remembered her childhood delight on that first day. She like a girl ran around all the rooms, opening the doors one by one, filling everything with a cheerful laugh. The husband followed her without saying anything and there was happiness on his face.

In the silence of the room, in the silence of the hushed house a small greenish night light came on, illuminating her with a dim light, sitting on the edge of the bed. Having lit up the face still keeping traces of that beauty, which delighted everyone. Only traces … Thin parchment skin, red streaks on cheekbones and cheeks, lips lost their cheerful brightness and freshness … How they are dry, she ran her tongue again, gathered strength … For a moment her eyes covered behind pale wrinkly eyelids, she sighed softly. Eyelids rose and from under them flashed the blue flame. She will rise! She will do what she decided. Fingers clenched into fists.

When she straightened stepping bare feet on the cool parquet floor, she was pretty rocked. And she did not dare to bend down to look for slippers. Barefoot? Let be! How nice to feel the homey touch of an old polished wood … And so that no one is near. Neither the nanny, nor the nurse, nor … She shook her head, chasing away unsolicited thoughts. Let her finally be left alone, she does not want to call anyone, does not want to see anyone. The hand rested on the table, she made a first timid step. Just don't fall like that time. The thigh reminded of itself again, responding with a sharp pain in the bruised place. The son was afraid of a fracture, but she refused to go to the hospital for an x-ray – why? What then, even if a fracture? Nothing. So she said, looking him straight in the eyes – uttered by syllables, as in childhood, teaches him to speak. Teaches to understand what was said. He opened his mouth, intending to insist and … He said nothing, turning his eyes away. She felt remorse, because he wanted to do better … She softened her tone, put a narrow palm on his hand, stroked it. It's really not nesessary, sonny. This will not change anything and only the noise will rise, it will be unpleasant for me. And this is not a fracture, well, and it does not really hurt. As proof, she lifted her leg and bent her knee, trying with all her might to smile and not wrinkle. Only the corners of her lips were trembled … The son preferred not to notice.

Five steps. Nightstand, table, wall – milestones on the way to the goal, to the huge window. She leaned on a wide window-sill and carefully looked out – it was empty in the garden, no one would notice. She slowly opened the shutters to the end, giving way to the sounds and smells, colors and paints of the evening sunset. Today it is great. She always loved this room and the space outside the window. The endless hilly fields stretching to the horizon. The house calmed down, her children were laid and sleeping peacefully in their beds. The husband would be back soon. And she sits, climbing with her feet on the window sill, and dreams, thinks. Sometimes she singing softly. Singing… Her lips parted, there was a whisper that suddenly broke off. She leaned back, pressed her hand to her mouth trying to silence coughing. No need to be heard now. Breathing is too fast, she tried to calm him down with half-forgotten exercises before going on stage. It took several painful minutes before the attack subsided. She tried again, stubbornly tried. No, the air does not obey, the lips are trembling, the parched throat cannot cope. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and understanding has come – she is just afraid. After all, everything is simple – she need to drink a glass of water, to soften burning thirst, and then … Then she finally will can. That's the point… But after the first glass will be the next ones, she will not stop anymore. For why? What will it give? Nothing. She slowly whispered this word speaking to herself. Frowning, she turned to the bedside table, a wrinkle cut through her forehead. She decided and will do as decided. A soft sound of flowing water be heard, and a minute later when she turned back to the window, to the fiery red-silver sunset glowing outside …

I'll be loving you always

With a love that's true always

When the things you've planned

Need a helping hand

I will understand always …

A quiet tune, she was transferred again to that church, to that sad story, where the only time … The only time she tried to become someone she had never been before. And from there – farther, farther … She wants to be in time in these short quick minutes, until sunset, until darkness fell, until … The far past arose in front of her flashing sight. It started like a foggy film strip… Places and sounds appeared here and there. Pictures of far past. Faces. Names. Events. She remembers someone and she only recognizes someone by sight. The years did not spare her memory, but a solution was found – she gave everyone a nickname, simple, naive, and sometimes even funny. In fact, the name is just a print, and if the memory weakens, it can disappear forever pulling the person. Now it’s easy for her: here’s the Master, here’s Teddy. Bird. Just Friend. There are a lot of them … Everybody left a long time ago, but now, when she stands near the window, when she calls – they have returned, even for a brief moment, they have come to her. And only herself she doesn't call by no means. Not a nickname, although there were a lot of them, not by name. She does not seem to want to see herself, either in the mirror or in memory. She does not want … As all the past years she wanted to leave, to leave as far as possible from her past, too vain, bright, brilliant. From the past that betrayed her and she did not forgive. Once she even said that she despised herself – the old one … The family, the children, the house – a long, quiet life, years and years of quiet happiness. So she decided, so she wanted. So it was. But why now, when a strange power suddenly lifted her out of bed, led her to the window – she is restless, she sees what she once forbade herself to see? She does not know. She grinned and whispered – I am just drifting. So she once told with youthful naivety to one of the journalists who besieged her. I am drifting. Let be. Now – she can. Now – all bans off. In the silence of the room the sound of pouring water was heard again. The hand that brought to the mouth the second glass almost did not tremble. How good … Cool water is like a spring that has irrigated a dry, cracked ground. Here a timid narrow stream ran along it, so it gained strength and depth, spreading, stubbornly making its way into the unyielding dense soil. It seems that it is about to dry up, calm down, give up and disappear without a trace in the barren sand. Not. The blazing disk of the sun touched the line of a distant horizon, the colors of sunset flashed scarlet, silver, pink, hit the wide-open eyes. She wanted to shut them down for a moment – too brightly, as if she had been spotlighted again. At first, quiet music was heard, an orchestra began to play somewhere, she listened involuntarily to a familiar tune. Mozart. How strange, have never played orchestras on our street. But out of doubt and extraneous thoughts, it's so beautiful! How long time she had not heard these magical modulations … More, more! Running out was a trickle foamed by a wave and rushed to a gallop, as if she saddled it. The tight gust of wind hit in the face scattering her hair. Right in front of the window appeared a huge white slowly swaying cloth. The heart sank with a dull pain – this is a projection screen … It is like the only spectator in the hall that no one is visible to anyone, standing frozen in expectation. Now … Now … She didn't want to remember? Wanted to move away from the past? An unknown force brought him right here, look! She heard the name, her name, pronounced in a chorus of thousands of voices, male, female, children's … She raised her withered hand in protest, no, no! It's not me! My name is … Her whisper was drowned out by music, a familiar splash screen appeared. And…

Pictures, scenes, moments … She remembered a lot, she did not want to remember much, and she simply forgot a lot. Her life, a long, very long life, compressed to quick seconds, as if caught by a hidden camera, rushed in front of her.

Here she is, quite a girl, shyly stands in front of a microphone, squeezing the stand with both hands, and next to … She wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember his name. She was captured by this magical act. What's his name? He left a long time ago, like the rest. She is the last one. Name … Do not remember, but … Nickname. Suddenly she smiled – it's Teddy! On the first Christmas of their collaboration, he brought a bunch of plush toys, a wooden horse. She was … Fourteen, fifteen? Or ten? Mom goggled at these gifts, and he held out a huge bear and laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

– I still do not know how to behave with her. But she is a child? Hold on!

– And what should I do with the horse?

– Put your daughter on it someday!

When they laughed, he knew how to amuse the whole country … And then … What then? Teddy has disappeared. A series of fast pictures, sometimes merging into a foggy strip. Someone looks out of it – and then disappears. How rapidly everything changed then, the time began to gallop, leaving, leaving … And childhood went with it, then youth. Glory, recognition, money. The first million at eighteen, nine-room mansion, car. And she loved to sing, read, run a race with a barking Tippy, to walk unrecognized on the boulevard, eating spaghetti and fried potatoes with ketchup, going to the movies. Yes, go to the cinema. Strange? Perhaps … Time passed. Her face, lit by the flashing, trembling light of the ghostly cloth, lit up with a quick smile that immediately disappeared. It's him. His name was … No, she does not want to call this name. Let him be just the First. She loves and is loved, so it seemed. Not for long. No one is to blame, they were just too, too inexperienced. She just hastened then… Someone said – it is impossible to destroy an image with a divorce. Her answer – how can I be with an unloved person for the sake of an “image”? The movement of the paintings has accelerated even more, as if an unknown operator is in a hurry to get rid of his visitor from painful memories as soon as possible. Now, now … Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowed. Second. For a moment, a smile again – a daughter was born. Indifferent face. Near her in beginning and soon – disappeared, forever. He did not even try to be a father, to be a real husband. She was told later – this is how the Second applied to all his children, from other women. Did that comfort her? Not. She quickly learned not to forgive. The booming courtroom, her voice. Strong, clear, her pride – he suddenly weakened, became barely audible, almost a whisper. She stood and could not help it, the judge again and again asked to speak louder … She does not want to see it. Further, further … And another shadow came over – she would call him Doctor, although he had never been any doctor. There was a war and she so wanted to contribute to the fight, she even donated blood then, although it was not required. And after the shooting she felt unwell, dizzy, he supported … Conversation, a look, a grip of a hand. Spark. No, don't! She remembers, do not show it! Damn night highway, damn car … A moment of weakness. A woman silhouette with huge frilly hat on her head. Her name is Snake. Much things then happened because of her, and she doesn't want to remember any of this. She does not want. Will not want. Never. Her eyelids trembled, a lonely slow tear rolled down her cheek. Then she realized that it was time to change something, it was time to change herself. The time has come to state that I am different, I am no longer a “sweet universal's sister”. I don't want to be her anymore. Probably, I never really was.

The book in hand, she read it for a day without stopping. Here it is! How she was convincing, persistent, just like her recent heroines. And – that church, a quiet song, she had just sang it standing by the window… She did not sleep at nights was tormented by insomnia – let the fatigue be real! No glycerin tears. It should, should have happened! Then for a moment it seemed that she had broken free from the fetters of the imposed image. She is a goddess again! Oh, really? There are no gods without believing in them. The love of the crowd is cruel and selfish, it is quick to worship. And to sentence with oblivion. A sad smile on a pale haggard face… She closed her eyes, not wanting to see. Now this letter will appear. Oh, yes… She remembers a few of his short lines perfectly. As she remembers that endless evening and herself sitting alone in the twilight of the living room. Only one thought was monotonously repeated – that's it… That's it. Phone call. It was him, a Friend.

– I'll be right now, the contract is with me, you will enter the amount yourself. They will regret it.

– No.

– But…

– Come. Without papers. Sit with me…

Silence, black shadows throwing on the walls and ceiling, the crackle of a flame in the fireplace, golden brittle gleams on two crystal glasses. She haven't took a drink of her own.

– Thank you for everything. For all.

– Where are you now, what will you do? May be…

– No. Sorry.

Of course, she was not alone – her parents, sister, daughter … And soon … She squeezed her fingers on the old polished wood of the window sill, how dizzy she is again … Just like when He suddenly offered to leave with him, far away over the ocean. Leave everything. Forever and ever. Here is his face, these funny glasses … He did not know where to put his hands, having lost his European charm. At first, she didn’t even have something to say. Sure, before it happened she guessed and there were rumors about… All the same, it was unexpected and… Near him was warm, calm and joyful. She had never experienced anything like this before, and he felt it, with the eternal flair of a loving and beloved man. His eyes opened, still not fully believing … Yes! And after a short time – pronounced in a ringing voice "'oui", already here, in this small town, in a church nearby.

– But you'll have to always protect me from …

– Whom?

Look in the eyes, smile.

– From spiders, mosquitoes and reporters, dear. Do you agree?

He smiled back and squinted.

– From spiders with mosquitoes – no problem, you yourself do not want to communicate with them. But the reporters… Are you sure you won't go to them yourself? They will call you, time after time. And not only reporters.

Her face hardened, her look became serious, she put her hand on his arm, squeezed her fingers.

– I will not return there. Never.

Not everything was smooth at the beginning. They were very careful. Sometimes even too careful and this often led to suspicions and quarrels. Even to parting. Did she again make a mistake? No. The separation was short. They overcame everything together. They were meant for each other – nothing could separate them. Both went to this a long and difficult path. The birth of a son, home routines, family. She looks greedily, the past life unfolds before her in broad strokes. How much happiness and joy she had, just joy. Traveling, meeting with a few relatives and friends. Sometimes a Friend called from across the ocean, he did not forget her all these years.

– Are you still happy, dear?

– Yes.

– I will try another time.

But another time the answer remained the same. And the next, and again, and more… He backed down and remained just a Friend, to the bitter end.

No, she was not forgotten. Letters came a lot. It is impossible to read and answer to everyone, it was a kind of lottery for two – for her and the lucky one. What is there in the envelope? If it was decorated with a flower, a heart, or something similar, she sent the letter to the basket. She was attracted by simple outlines, firmly and simply written lines of the address and name. Then – reading. And again, everything was decided by the very first words, the handwriting could say a lot, the color of the ink. So she felt… Wishes of happiness, good luck, hopes for her return, questions about family and health. Even requests… There was one letter … She does not remember where it came from and who sent it. Fingers touched hair. They are still long and thick, just now gray… Then she was proud of her hair mane and the fan asked for a curl. Of course, she did not answer. But remembered. And the moment came when this memory was useful. But more about that later, if there is time. How fast it goes … And how much more she want to see, feel again, because… After all, everything passes in front of her for the last time. Then – eternal darkness. She took a deep breath to get enough of it, to feel the coolness and freshness of this magic evening. Who gave her this, who did not want her to leave, slackening helplessly in her bed? No answer. Another breath… How much water has she already drunk? She carefully glanced at the decanter out of the corner of her eye, dreading to see the truth – a little lake on the very bottom. Let be. But she could stand here and watch, hear. To alive again! Not for a long time. Let be. Deep breathing has awakened long-standing chest pain – a trace of the road accident and broken ribs. The pain, however, reminded of something else, something that still sometimes causes a secret forbidden melancholy. How many years have passed? She does not remember exactly.

It was a bright summer populous day, he suddenly froze in the middle of the street, with his head up, staring at the church spire. She did not have time to brake and knocked him down, strongly hitting him in the side. Lord… He flew off to the sidewalk, rolled a few yards and froze. The surrounding people screamed in fright and she had already opened the door and jumped out, bent and took her hand. Then she was still fast, impetuous, slim, no one gave her more than thirty-five or forty, and she already was… She grinned, looking at the screen still hanging in front of the window, no matter how much she was. And it is important that everything with the poor fellow turned out to be in order, nothing broken. They were surrounded by excitedly speaking people, she bent toward him, close… Quite young, long hair fell in disorder on his shoulders, his glasses slipped on the tip of his nose… The view would have been frivolous if not for firmly compressed lips and not a look. She was surprised – there was no anger or annoyance in him. Only participation, empathy and desire to help. Help her? Yes.