Ivan Bunin. The slight breath. 1916th
At the cemetery, on a fresh clay hills, rises a new cross of oak, solid, heavy and smooth.
It is April, the days are gray. The grave stones of the spacious cemetery can be seen from a distance through bare trees. A cold wind touched a porcelain crown and bring it back and return to the ring.
In the cross is a pretty big, lofty porcelain medallion was admitted. On it is a portrait of a high school student, has the happy, lively eyes breathtaking.
Her name is Olga Mescherskaja.
As a little girl she raised not on the mass of the brown school dress. What could one say about them yet, except that they belonged to the circle of beautiful, rich and happy girl? That she was gifted, but playful and carefree on the instructions of their teacher.
some point they began to flourish and grow rapidly. At 14 she had in addition to a thin waist and slender legs already could describe a well-developed breasts and all the female forms, whose charm, no human words adequate. With 15 she was a beauty. Some of her friends are so carefully combed, were so neat and keeps track of your conservative movements! But she was afraid of nothing - not even before the ink stains on fingers or against a red face, disheveled hair or not before time in front of a bare knee during walking. The whole thing, what distinguished them from other high school girls came, somehow unnoticed, without any efforts or efforts - grace, elegance, agility and a clear eye sun rays ... Nobody was dancing at the ball as Olja Mescherskaja, none as they could skate, flirted with any one on the ball as often as her. And for some reason the younger students liked anyone so much as Olga. Gradually it became a lady, and solidified their fame in the high school. There have been rumors that she was reckless, that they are not without admirers could live, that's a high school student named Shin was madly in love with her and that she loved him too but so capricious is that he tried to commit suicide.
In the last winter Olga Mescherskaja crazy of fun and joy has become, so they said in high school. It was a snowy, sunny, chilly winter. The sun went behind early in the high snow-covered fir forest of the school garden. The always cheerful, sunshine promised for the next day cold and many people on the promenade and on the ice rink in the park, between which Olja Mescherskaja the careless and the happiest of his shine.
One day Olga was the big break in like a whirlwind in front of them to their hunting and funny squealing female first-graders. Suddenly, she was called to the school director. She stopped, took a deep breath, he stroked his hair from his face, tugging at the corners of the apron and ran up the stairs with bright eyes. The young looking, but already gray-haired high school director was sitting quietly at a desk under a portrait of the Tsar with knitting in her hands.
"Hello, Miss Mescherskaja," - she said in French, and not even looked at her. ". Unfortunately, I was forced once again to have them call me to discuss your behavior"
"I am listening to you, Madame." - Replied Mescherskaja. They came close to the desk and looked at the clear leader and lively in the face. Olya sat so light and graceful as it could only make them.
"Unfortunately, I am convinced that they will listen to me not paying attention," - said the woman and pulled the thread, so that spun the ball on the painted floor. Olga looked at the ball of pure curiosity.
"I repeat, not me and not talking too long," - said the director.
Mescherskaja liked this exceptionally clean and spacious workroom, in the chilly days with the heat of the brilliant Dutch bulb and the freshness the lilies of the valley was flooded on the desk. Olga looked first at the life-size picture of the young tsar in the middle of the huge hall and then on the smooth surface in the carefully curled hair of the head. The girl paused expectantly.
"They are no longer a girl," - the boss said ambiguous and began to get upset in secret.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Mescherskaja almost amused.
"But no woman," - said the head still ambiguous. Her tired face reddened a bit. - "First, what a Hairstyle is that? This is a woman hairstyle
"That's not my fault that I have beautiful hair," - Olja touched her head with both hands.
"Ah! You have no blame "-? Contradicted by the director. "They are not to blame for the hairstyle, not the expensive hair clips. You are not to blame, that they ruin their parents because of the expensive pumps. But I repeat again: it overlook the fact that they are still a high school student ... "
Olja lost its lightness and serenity not interrupted, and very polite, the manager:" Excuse Please, Madame. But you're wrong: I'm a woman. And you know who is guilty of that? A friend and neighbor of my father and your older brother Alexei Michajlovich Malyutin. This happened last summer in the village ...
A month after the interview shot of the ugly Cossack officer, who was one of the lower class and nothing to do with the circle to the Olja Mescherskaja was doing, she had on the platform in the large flock of travelers. Only then numbing of Olja's commitment director believed it. The officer claimed the investigating officer that Mescherskaja turned it on, in an intimate Relationship with him and swore to be his wife. But on the day of the murder, at the station Upon leaving, he said Olja suddenly that she never thought seriously love him. That all calls to the marriage were no more than a mockery and Monkies simple. They handed him a diary sheet to read, in which concerned him.
"I flew through the pages of the diary and shot her there on the platform, where they took a walk in the expectation that I am finished reading," - said the officer. "Here is the diary. See for yourself what there on 10 July last year was recorded.
In the diary was the following:
"Now is already half past one. It is night. I'm just asleep, but then I woke up suddenly ... Today I became a woman! My father, my mother and brother - all went into the city. I remained alone. Oh, I was so happy that I was alone at home! In the morning I walked in the garden. After that I was in the forest. It seemed as if I were alone in the world. I also ate lunch alone, then I played the whole hour piano. And I had the feeling that I will live without end forever, and that I will be as happy as nobody. Then slept I have a in my father's. By four I was awakened by Katja, she said that Alexei has arrived Michajlovich. I was very happy. That was very nice to see him and to entertain. He arrived with a pair of his horses that were beautiful and were all the time next to the house in the lobby. He stayed with us because it was raining and he wanted it to dry until the evening and then he moves on.
He regretted that he has not got the father, was very much alive and behaved towards me as a gentleman and made jokes about the fact that he was in love for a long time in me.
During our walk, the weather was nice again. The sun shone throughout the wet garden, although it has become quite cold. He led me with his hand and said we were Faust and Marguerite.
He is 56, but still attractive and dressed impeccably. I may just not know he has arrived in a carriage without obstruction. He smells of perfume and the English is quite young, dark eyes. His beard is divided into two long pieces of silver.
We drank tea on the terrace. Then I felt like I was unhealthy and I have lain down on the deck chair. He was smoking, sat down with me afterwards and said many compliments. Then he took my hand and looked at it long and kissed them. I hid my face under a silk cloth and he kissed me several times through the silk cloth on the lips ...
I still do not understand that could happen to like it. I'm mad, I never thought that I am so ..! Now I have only one way ...
The aversion to him is so great that I can not transfer them ... "
The city was in April, clean and dry. His head stones were white. It is pleasant and easy to enter on the stones. Every Sunday after Mass is a small woman in the Cathedralstraße that led to the exit leads from the city. She is all dressed in mourning, has black gloves and an umbrella from the black wood. It crosses the dirty place where there are a lot dirtier foundries and blows fresh air box. Continue between the monastery and the prison brightens cloudy sky and shudders (turns gray) is a spring field. If you turn left after the monastery, you can see on the left side of a large garden, which is shielded by a white fence. Above the gate in the garden, Mary is recorded ascension.
The little woman crossed herself, and even then usually follows the main avenue. When she reached a bench opposite the oak cross, she is sitting in the wind and cold spring one or two hours until her legs are finally frozen in light shoes and hands in a very tight gloves. She stops singing of spring birds, and wind sound in the porcelain crown. The birds are singing, even in bad weather sweet. The wife sometimes thinks that she is willing to give their lives for it, just so there is no death wreath in front of their eyes. Oh, this wreath! This hill! This oak cross! Is it possible that under him which is to laugh their eyes as immortal on the porcelain rim of the oak cross?
How can we adapt to their pure view the Terrible, which now involves the Olja Mescherskaja name?
But in deep soul is the wife happy, as anyone who is faithful to his dream.
Oljas This woman is class teacher. She has lived for long in a dream that you implement real life. Previously it was a dream her brother, poor and normal soldier. She acquired her soul with him, with his future, which they presented themselves as excellent. When he was killed in Mukden (China), she tried to convince themselves that they worker had an idea.
Oljas death gave her a new dream. Now she thinks constantly Olya. She visits Oljas grave every holiday. She sits there a long time, look for hours at the Oak Cross, remembers Oljas mere face among the flowers in the grave. And she also remembers how she once overheard a conversation. In a major break during the walk in the school yard said Olja her chubby friend Subbotina quickly
"I once read in one of the father's books - he has many old funny books - I read like real women's beauty needs to be. Understand because you had written so much that I could not remember everything. But what I remember, are dark eyes, like boiling resin. I swear there it was exactly like this: like boiling resin. Thereafter, dark eyelashes, as the night, gently playing redness, slim waist, longer than normal hands, a little leg measurements, hold-large chest, properly rounded Wade, a shell-colored knee , a sloping shoulder. I learned a lot by heart. This is all so true! But you know what is most important? The slight breath! And I do have the - listen to me, as I breathe, - I have it, or "
cleared now, this slight breath in the world, in the cloudy sky, and was dispersed with the cold spring wind.
1916
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