On the Wings of Hope : Prose

So, he has come, returned to his memoirs in reality. Only after ten years of separation life has finally granted him this chance. After all, he was just a little child when he once crossed this threshold - small helpless one, needing protection and aid of others … now he could defend others himself. Approached a school building - and almost instantly was plunged into a joyful and carefree atmosphere of childhood - the time which he spent in a work, and not entertainments. Entertainments … he smiled. A pure waste of time - burning the precious gift of life, a substitute for idlers. And he wasn’t such a one - like a lot of other men he knew. He distinctly remembered for now how he has spent this time working … nay, not in that silly cramming, but clever study instead - and learned to find a joy in that.

And others … other men did other choices - theirs. Someone - one close to his, someone completely different. Big and small, important and not quite so. Nay, important ones - there are no things insignificant. They built their own life - everyone his own way - as they desired, as considered it necessary, as it was convenient for them. In a word, everyone was walking his own path - they had the right.

Someone drank beer and smoked cigarettes. Somebody endless played football, spending his time for all day long on a stamped asphalt of a stadium. Some crammed thick correct textbooks. Shortly, everyone was going his own way he has chosen.

A step, and another one, and lots of more steps - rising on old ladders of an old building. First, second, third floor … stop.

He will first meet his former class teacher, and then the rest of them. A knock at the door - and a painfully familiar, yet considerably grown old woman’s face. A warm smile on his face - and the woman answers him with the same. She recognizes him and welcomes, obviously glad to meet him - and so does he.

A conversation starts - a long talk which, it appeared, will last for an eternity. He was talking about those ten years of his new life, as well as of old school one, - the way he understood and felt it for now. That conversation lasted and lasted - he was speaking, and she was carefully and attentively listening to. And a vice versa a short time after.

It became late then - and they have said goodbye. He promised to come back to school from time to time. He indeed returned the upcoming day to meet with other teachers. That was the smallest deed possible for him to thank them for what they have once done - to remember them … and sometimes, at least sometimes to visit again.

And the time to leave came once. To return back to his institute in a different city. A last farewell waving of hand - and in a way. In a way.

* * *

Knocking of iron wheels. Measured rocking of train’s apartment. A whistle of wind through a slightly opened window. Sleepy passengers. Somebody’s fluffy cat, making his impressive strolling through a salon.

- Barsik, - he called. - Come here.

But the cat only slowly raised a tail, turned his body and started moving in the opposite direction. A funny being.

Now he was returning to the town when he has graduated from the institute and has been working. A next stop … a methodical voice of the driver … entering and leaving passengers. A face - this familiar face … one of his school friend. The man was wandering directly towards him- with some sort of unseeing and roving glance he was scouting the surroundings … a tired face of emaciated man. Here’s the man sat down nearby and hasn’t recognized him at all - yet they have studied together for such a while! Studied at one school …

- Ivan, - he called. - Ivan, hi. Didn’t you recognized me ? No ?  I’m Pavel. We have studied in one class! Have you truly forgotten?

- Pavel … Oh, yes … hi. Hi, - repeated Ivan and looked away to face the window.

Heart of his missed a bit and compressed painfully. What’s that, what has happened?! Not like that, in a totally different way did he image the meeting of friends! Has something dreadful befallen? He has to find out!

- Ivan, are you not glad to see me? What’s that with you, Ivan? You don’t look like yourself. Where has this cheerful and sociable guy whom you once were gone? I know, I am assured that you are still that one, just a bit depressed, right? You are simply tired after all, yes? Come on, tell me a bit about yourself - or let me tell you about myself. Let’s remember the past and our old good days. Aye? Ivan, Ivan, wake up!

And he has shaken him by shoulders.

Stop … no need to … shaking. Sss…stop …, - hardly moving a tongue he murmured in reply. - I recognized … y … you. Leave … leave me be … with my … p … p … pain. Don’t in … inte … interfere, I b … beg you.

- But what, what has happened?! Ivan, you know - I have never abandoned you in trouble, never - and never did you, we have always aided one another, each and every time! You couldn’t forget that all, couldn’t … I would not believe that! Do you hear me - I dare not believe that you have forgotten!