Chapter 6 of the short novel of Holder Volcano "Falling leaves"
The inscription on the sand
The southern sun is so unbearable that Sultan began to fear that his brain melted and spilled out of his skull through his eyes. It became impossible to breathe in the stuffy cabin of the tractor because of increased heat from red-hot to the limit of the motor. The radiator was boiling water, as boiling water in a samovar in the shade of the teahouse, around which the trees hung bird cage, the cells in which singing quail.
Sultan stopped his tractor and jumping down, went to the shady trees, simultaneously removing his shirt and swinging it like a fan to at least somehow colder.
Well, the roasting! - he whispered to himself, squatting in the shade of the olives and elms looking at the field, which was dominated by the heat.
The workers have long left the field and sat under the willows and poplars on the Bank of the ditch. There on the shore, where grew huge willow made the noise cuckoo. Sultan stood up and walked down the trail which meandered along the canal in lush mulberry trees, olives and elms, in the direction of the field, which recently worked with Khurshida. But somehow on the field she could not be seen. Apparently, she too was sitting somewhere in the shade of the trees, fleeing the impossible heat. Along the way, Sultan picked wildflowers and wove them a beautiful wreath for his lover to come to her with empty hands. He found on the edge of the field, where grew old single willow. Seeing the tractor driver Sultan, Khurshida was happy. They shook hands, not hugging, not kissing and not even shake hands, cautiously looking round, as though fearing people who could secretly watch them from the bushes. With a sleight of hand magician, Sultan put on his head Khurshida wreath who wove of wildflowers.
- Here's your crown, Lady Madam Duchess Khurshidabanum Madame de La Marquise La tombala neige a pace sua e fusible manege! - he said.
- Oh, thank You, Monsieur Sultan de La Crua je'mapple a la maison general, la bien, merci beaucoup moi! -Khurshida thanked him. They were talking between themselves, joking and laughing.
- What a Scorcher! said Khurshida.
Yeah, don't tell, Duchess Khurshidabanu Madame de La Marquise La tombala neige a pace sua e fusible manege. I'm afraid the sun will melt like a hot metal ball in the furnace at Almalyk mining and smelting plant and poured lava in the shape of our eyes - agreed the Sultan.
You are right, Monsieur Sultan de La Crua je'mapple a la maison general, la bien, merci beaucoup moi! In this heat the birds, and those hiding among the leaves, and sitting quietly on the branches of the shady trees, in silence, with their mouths open, showing their tongues, similar to sharp poisoned arrows of the ancient warriors of Genghis Khan. When my late grandmother told me that before the hungry steppe, covered with hot sand dunes where the heat was at forty-five degrees. On the dunes, where grown saxaul tree, promptly ran lizards and Agamas with raised tails, sticking out their tongues. They fled not just for fun, but in order not to burn his belly and legs along with a tail, which they really need. And the birds were afraid to fly over these deserts fearing that the wings melted and fell off - said Khurshida.
- Yes, Duchess Khurshidabanu Madame de La Marquise La tombala neige a pace sua e fusible manege Khurshida the tender pace of sua e fusible arena, You're right - confirmed the words Khurshida Sultan, looking into the distance eyes downcast. Then, concentrating, he said:
I see you know a lot of You have encyclopedic knowledge. Listening to Your words, I mentally imagine the landscape of the desert, on the sandy expanse where the winds rolled the dried ball-shaped plants called "tumbleweed". You won't believe, but I, having been once in the desert, just fell in love with sandy the world. Rolling, driven by the wind, thousands of dried balls of this unusual plant makes a person unforgettable impression. Can we ever go into the wilderness to observe torn by the winds rolling balls of dried plants, which is called "tumbleweed". But now that I think about something else. Well, what do You think, what am I thinking? Don't know? And I know - said Sultan as if showing off.
- What do You think? - asked Khurshida.
-I will not say. Try to guess - said Sultan.
But I can help you, expressing your innermost thoughts in writing -said Sultan.
- And how? - Even more surprised Khurshida.
So, simply - said, Sultan and taking a stick he began to write on the sand the letters. When he finished writing, Khurshida smiled and blushed from ear to ear from embarrassment, as Sultan had written on the sand words "Khurshida, I love You!".
Suddenly, Khurshida also took a stick from Sultan, wrote in reply. "Me too!" .
- Yes! - said the tractor driver Sultan, with excitement.
Khurshida blushed with a smile on his lips, nodding his head in acknowledgement of her written words, and hastily wiping feet, the inscription on the sand.
Meanwhile, the sky began to gather dark clouds, casting shadows on the fields, and the sun suddenly disappeared during the Eclipse. When the clouds thickened around, it darkened considerably. It blew sharp gusts, rippling the grass, bushes and trees. Askance began to drop large rain drops, picking up the smell of dust, reminiscent of the delicate fragrance of books in the quiet library of the twentieth century. The storm broke, thunder peals the thunder, the lightning flashed, and it lit the fields, trees, bushes and grass, as well as the happy faces of the lovers. The thunder was booming so much that Khurshida it seemed that the sky was torn and here at their feet the fearful cracks of the earth and a volcano erupted, throwing around flaming giant rocks the size of an old chest. From fright she was forced into the arms of the Sultan, and closed his eyes for fear of blinding lightning. Soon the rain turned into a downpour and started to pour from buckets. Sultan hugged the girl and laughed, laughing, looking glowing eyes in the stormy sky, all wet. Khurshida's wet hair stuck to her beautiful smooth face, soft lips, chin, and delicate neck and to the shoulders, which was lighted up with silver in the bright light of lightning. And clinging to her body the dress was almost transparent, highlighting her beautiful figure, including elastic white tender and lush breasts. Under the wet hem of her sheer dress caught the eye of Sultan her smooth white knees and part her thighs.
- Oh, I'm afraid, Sultan! Run for cover faster! -Khurshida said loudly, so that Sultan could hear her voice in the noise of showers and thunder.
- Don't be afraid, Duchess Khurshidabanu Madame de La Marquise La tombala neige a pace sua e fusible manege! - Sultan comforted her.
It seemed, in the sky exploded thermonuclear bombs, which mankind has been kept in deep mines on rainy days.
- Run for shelter! Let me give you a lift, my dear lady Duchess Khurshidabanu Madame de La Marquise La tombala neige a pace sua e fusible manege! I'll carry you! - shouted Sultan, laughing like a tourist from the powerful Niagara Falls, like the fisherman in the surf when a storm at sea.
- No, people will see! - shouted Khurshida.
They ran, holding each other's hands. Under heavy rain, the trail became slippery, so when running they slid like a couple of skaters at the ice arena during the world figure skating Championships. The rainfall was so strong that from the veil of rain it was hard to see the trail. All the thunder rattled and the lightning flashed, illuminating the heavy tulle, silk curtain of torrential rain, like a powerful searchlight on the frontier. Finally they saw the camp, sheltering from torrential rain workers who smiled pointing the finger at Khurshida and Sultan who fled in the direction of the field mill. They successfully broke into the safe shelter that is at the field camp. The storm poured down and the thunder rattled, and from time to time the lightning flashed. People were looking at heavy rain, the streams of rain water which flowed from the roof as from the water jet and dull crawling zigzag through the land like a snake. Khurshida and Sultan, too, looked in the shower, and Sultan said thoughtfully to himself:
- The rain not only washes the roads, trees, roofs and glass Windows. It also washes away all the bad, the entire negative from the soul of man that is accompanied with rain, we cleaned up the soul. In the rains there is some sort of mysterious joy, sadness and longing. Rain gives us peace, solace - he said aloud.
Khurshida was looking at a noisy downpour, silent and sad. Gradually, the noise of torrential rain subsided, and the nature lifted the rain curtains. Again the sun was shining. Happily birds in the trees as if welcoming the king of nature, the sun.
When people came out of the field camp, they saw fallen acacia flowers that floated on the surface of the mirror puddles. In the sky appeared a giant seven-colored arc, overflowing people's heart children's pleasure. People in wet clothes with delight and marveled at the giant hangar of the rainbow. And on the top of the acacia the magpies were chattering.