LITMIR.BIZ

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I came from the small town of Semivetrinsk. Kharkiv welcomed me into its embrace. I didn’t know how young people lived, I was only occupied with the institute, and after classes at seven in the evening, I barely had the strength to eat and study. My body was tuned to one program: studying. Of course, I observed people, watching and staring at our Jewish classmates in the group. It’s amazing… they are smarter than many people, how their minds work… they have an answer for everything. Several Jewish boys and girls studied in our group. One even had a crush on me, secretly watching me during classes. When I realized I might fail the biochemistry exam, I turned to him, and he said, “You’ll pass, I have connections, you’ll get a four.” When you live through the years, you remember your student days and think, “What if I had lived differently… If I had agreed to tie my life with Grisha, Petya, Vova, or Seryozha, things would have been different, I would have lived without want, without twists and turns… But something held me back, maybe it wasn’t fate, maybe it was a sinister force guiding me where I needed to go.

      What kind of pipe is this?

      Kharkiv. Shevchenko Park. Summer. There are many places here where you can stop and take a picture. A green bush stands on the lawn near the path. Amina, Grandma, and I lined up and asked a photographer working in the park to take a picture of us.

      “Stand closer to each other, like this…” the photographer aimed.

      “It’s so nice in the park…” Marianna thought. The sun was shining right into her face, and she felt at peace.

      “You can pick up the photo in half an hour.”

      At home, Marianna admired the photograph.

      “What is that…?” On the right shoulder in the photo, something is visible: it looks like a pipe or a snake with its mouth wide open, but without teeth, only two vertical bars on the sides.

      Marianna showed the photo to a friend in the student dormitory, and after looking at it, she said, “It’s from another dimension! It just appeared. If you want, I can send the photo to an expert.”

      “No, no need, it might just be a film defect.”

      Although deep inside, Marianna felt that this pipe was an observation device, meaning she was being watched from another dimension. By the way, the pipe resembled one from a cartoon, sticking out from a submarine when it’s underwater.

      Nastenka

      I first saw her at the collective farm. Yes, at the collective farm, when we were on our practical training as first-year students, working in the tomato fields, helping to harvest the crops, so to speak.

      Nastya was quiet; my eyes were immediately drawn to her large eyes – such a pure being. I remember how we devoured fresh peppers together, even though before the collective farm, I had only eaten them boiled. But here, I was so hungry that even a tomato straight from the vine was delicious.

      After getting to know Nastya, we decided to live together in the dormitory, in the same room. Her parents were not ordinary people; I realized that right away. Nastya had branded, expensive clothes and shoes. Her mother arranged for the room, and we ended up with our own separate quarters: Room 7!

      ***

      Nastya and I spent our short student evenings together. Short because we were always busy with our studies at the institute. In the evening, we would make tea and have heartfelt conversations. It was warm and cozy. Nastya was kind-hearted, good, and sincere.

      After graduating from the institute, we kept in touch with Nastya, and she called me every year on my birthday. I eagerly awaited her call each birthday. Now she was calling from England, where she had settled well and worked as a doctor. Meanwhile, I moved to work in my small hometown.

      Nastya’s Calls

      The phone rang.

      “Nastya!”

      Marianna rushed to the phone and grabbed the gray receiver of the landline.

      “Nastya! Nastya! I hear you, hello!”

      “Hello, Mariannochka!”

      “How are you?” asked Nastya.

      “I’m fine, thank you for calling!”

      “Happy birthday! May every day bring you joy, and most importantly, health to you and your loved ones,” said Nastya.

      “Thank you, Nastya. I thought you wouldn’t call.”

      “It’s evening in London, and almost night here,” said Marianna.

      “That’s right,” replied Nastya.

      Then Nastya asked about me, but there wasn’t much to say except about my hospital. Nastya always talked very little about herself, almost nothing.

      That was the end of the conversation.

      Marianna was in the kitchen with her grandmother.

      Her grandmother said,

      “You see, Nastya calls, she’s not proud. You should appreciate that.”

      “Why would she be proud?” Marianna said, pouring tea. “But it turns out that if Nastya made it abroad, she is better than me and should be proud.”

      Grandma probably thinks that once you go abroad, you become a master, a great person. She thinks that way because she lived her whole life in the Soviet Union, never traveling abroad.

      That’s true, but here I am, and no one will help me go anywhere. To start with, there’s no money. And Nastya can’t help with that.

      Under the Ceiling

      Angelinka was simply an angel. A nineteen-year-old girl, kind, attracting others with her pure gaze and genuine smile. It was she who invited me to their community of believers.

      New Year’s Eve. A long wooden table, with all the believers sitting around it. Marianna felt like an outsider among them, just sitting and observing what everyone was doing. On the table, there were glasses of compote and plates of food. The lead pastor was quoting words from the Bible, then there were games, believers moving around and constantly talking. It felt like my head was in a vise, and I just continued to sit there.

      A few days later, Angelinka invited me to her place.

      We were sitting in a large room, the living room. She brought out her delicacies and set the table. There was canned food, sausage, vegetables from a jar, and, of course, tea. It was peaceful being with her; she was good. It didn’t happen suddenly, and I wasn’t even surprised: on the upper left side of my field of vision, an image appeared. Above the living room floor, as if in the air, under the ceiling, in a golden halo, was Jesus Christ. He was looking at me from above. He wore a long garment covering his body, as if he were in golden rays or a golden cocoon. Then I thought, perhaps he is looking at me, a sinner, observing what I am doing… I didn’t say anything to Angelinka, and what I saw gradually began to fade from my memory.

      Here’s how we are!

      Sometimes people take pride in their social status, their position, or what they have that others do not. They stand out from the crowd and want to exclaim proudly: “Look at us! We’re special!”

      Marianna was at her mother’s memorial service. Relatives had gathered. Her grandfather’s sister, now elderly and leaning on a cane, sat in a chair. Other relatives surrounded her, listening to her monologue. Marianna stood in the doorway, overhearing their conversation.

      “Now I will tell you what kind of people we are!” proudly declared her grandfather’s sister.

      “My son is the chief doctor of the clinic and the

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