# La vita continua, книга 1, аторский перевод , английский,главы 1,2 +3 глава

Илья Владимирович Собещук

Well that's that, at least he knew where he was going, chose between death and life, he chose life. From that time being had he to identify some other solutions to the issues, than jumping from the roof of a high building. Sometimes the solutions to the issues being identified of its own accord, sometimes it takes the one, whom problems visited, something to do to find the solution.

The depression shows fight. There was no exit out of it as before, but there was intention to exist further. He went downstairs, breathed in summer fresh air, so lovely smelling after the rain, looked up into the sky and sighed. Brooding sadly he was unaware of what come to pass round about. Slap, he heard a thump and got sight of a man of about forty, who had fallen from the roof. The man was grizzly in temples, with a head thinned of hair, dead pale colour, he was dead. Oleg was astonished (that was the name of our hero) by the fact that the man did not utter a sound, while he was falling. There was no blood over the body. Probably, this happened by reason of falling to the green fodder. The same thing might have happened to me, Oleg thought. By little and little some people gathered around the body. Mainly that was old folks, pensioners. Somehow swiftly a militiaman appeared. Probably he hung about, but he hardly could help in any way the man, that was lying without movement and was not breathing. I am breathing, I am living, Oleg thought, and I am standing on the same grass. I am who was about to make the step but stepped back and the one who had made the step. By that moment, pensioners started telling the militiaman, what had happened here in detail, although not a bloody one was there at the moment of the man's falling. On the other hand there was his neighbor, old lady, pensioner, who told the rest that the gone lived alone, his wife left him long ago. According to her story he was a decent body, he was neither a drunkard nor a rip. Someone suggested a theory of murder, and everyone started, full of hops, discussing the suggested theory. The irony of fate, the thought went with a whizz in Oleg's mind, as recently as he was about to act the same way and there now...He went further. Witnesses of the event, that none of them had observed, gathered in body. Oleg went back home. He put a teapot and welded to himself a cup of coffee. Coffee ,coffee, at first it improves one's mood and then the depression comes back with double force, he thought, but any way I will overcome it somehow. It is not easy to put up with loneliness, yet there are people to put up with whom hard twice. His former girl was exactly that way. She had been exhausting him with her high claims, to which he would never correspond. She wanted her boyfriend to become rich and successful, and the main thing was for him to become a subject of her girl-friends. The last thing was not the least for her, which was especially important, but neither he had not yet become rich nor successful. Well, he had not become equal to her expectations at all, and she left. He had not been noticing the way she exhausted him wile they still were together. He loved her, expected that things would straighten up, but the things went different way than he had expected. He lost his job, lost his girl-friend, yet he retained his life. Having taken a sip of hot coffee, he looked out of the window and was knocked of his pins. He saw the wood, the sight of which he always could catch from this window, but there was something else. On a tree bough hung himself up with his own belt a young guy. The guy was pale, with moustaches and dead. Some kind of epidemic of suicides, he thought. He drunk up his cup of coffee, and again plunged into the gloomy thoughts. From entrancement he was pulled out by a sharp, shrill sound of a phone call.

Oleg picked up the phone, he could hear some hissing noise in the receiver, and then, someone on the yonder side, cleared the throat and started talking:


-- I am calling you in reference to your resume. We have received it, have considered it and would like to suggest you to come for an interview?.

-- Oleg asked?

-- - How is your company called, and what kind of job would you like to offer me???

-- - Our company is engaged in investigation abnormal activities. We investigate unusual cases. Is it clear?

-- Oleg nodded assent, recollecting all these cranky seekers of green little men, UFOs that or flying saucers, that is by the way, is not at all an anomaly, and occurs at any scandal of many young and elderly spouses, and other devilry.

-- - Would you become a member of our research group??

-- - What is the object of the investigation that your group is engaged in? - Oleg asked with irony.

-- - I have already told you?

-- - All right, - Oleg calmed down, if he was about to jump from a high roof, and then changed his mind, what the hell is the difference, what to be engaged in. He asked.

-- - What about the salary?

-- - The salary? Not great sum of money, you see, but still it would go a long way and would be quiet sufficient for your needs. If you are interested in our offer, you could come tomorrow at three o'clock to our office, located by the address: Tchitcherin's street 22 apartment 408.??

-- - Well, I will come. Thanks, well, and then see you tomorrow?

-- Oleg hanged up. But tomorrow, all the same, will come for me, he thought. Behind a window has already darkened. Oleg fell facedown to the bed downwards and fell into a deep sleep.

La viva continua 2 The morning still came. All the same, it came, Oleg thought. There came a new day, some new cares, disappointments and, probably, small pleasures. Perhaps, there would be also some new possibilities. Now Oleg thought of, whether any higher education was necessary for his possible potential work, if to be a part of these odd fellows, in general were possible to call some kind of a job. He came to the conclusion that it was not really a job. But, at least, they would pay some money for it, it wouldn't be very much but even quite sufficient that was necessary for him at that moment, as well as to any who is doomed, to earn one's living . His father was not the oil oligarch, and even the businessman of an average success he was not, and, this question with a daily bread was to be solved on his own by earning money. Hiss previous job was socially quite prestigious, but is extreme a coffee-and-cake job. He worked as a teacher in Minsk Linguistic College, as the teacher of Oral Practice of English language. He had worked a year under the contract during which he tried to find out, why for the work on one and a half rate he got such small salaries. It was not possible to find it out, but the college administration managed to solve the problem with the obstinate teacher, simply without having prolonged him the contract. And more than a year he had already been earning as a non-staff translator. It brought him very little money. There were few orders, and his former girl turned to be former. She left him for another man's sake. In the beginning it was very hard. He wanted that she would return, and all would go as it were before. He was humiliating himself before her, having forgotten about pride, begged her to return. But she would never return. There were days, months. Mental anguish went together with them and he still had this mad hope that they would be together again. But it never occurred. He wished he would die. And in attack of despair he came on that roof from which point our narration has begun. Now he recollected, how recently, walking through the city, he met his two former students from the college, where he had worked. Julia and Dasha, two very lovely in every aspect girls. In the beginning, he noticed Julia standing on a porch of the Linguistic University, that in which, he himself was the student once. Julia, the dark-haired girl with grey eyes, smiled to him, he smiled to her, and they started talking. Julia passed an examination in mathematics, as students pass examination in general educational subjects in case it would not be possible to enter the Linguistic University that then not to pass the same examinations, trying to enter any other HIGH SCHOOL. Then Dasha joined them. She had a short lovely hair dress and brown eyes. They talked. Students were talking about this difficult examination in mathematics that they took, talking about their plans for the future. Girls lighted, felt that they were already bothered by the society of the former teacher and politely said goodbye, went something to drink. Oleg came into the nearest cafeteria to drink a cup of coffee, where an elderly woman asked him to give her at least a pair of the Belarusian rubles, complaining that she just was about to go mad, together with the husband. Oleg gave her some money. She asked still more. He gave her a little bit more money and she thanked him and left the place. Oleg's wallet was almost empty. Oleg again felt loneliness and unpleasant feeling that he was avoided by everyone. He recollected, how quickly tired his society the former students, because of that he became even more sad. However, the life is a life. He recollected all that now for some reason. This morning he welded a cup of coffee to himself again, cooked some breakfast begun to eat, switched on the TV set, having stopped a choice on the musical channel. Listening to music, he drank coffee and thought what he would do before this interview. Nobody sent him any orders for translation yet. He had practically forgotten everything that he did, as he spent the days after this attempt of suicide that had not taken place. Probably, it was a shock. He recollected Hemingway, whose attempt of suicide has tragically torn off a life of this talented person, who loved life so much, but for some reasons decided to leave it. Oleg decided to esteem. He read. "To have or not to have?", the book written by Hemingway, the actions of the plot occurs in Cuba. Oleg's father said to him once, that he happened to be in a small house of Hemingway in Cuba when he served in army. Time for the interviews neared. Well, the teacher-loser, welcome in a company of the idiots, who desperately searching for green little men, and from that had become green, he thought, and, having put on in an official style, went for the interview.

-- La vita continua 3

-- When Oleg was approaching to house 22, Tchitcherina Street, he had mixed feelings. Something within him protested, repeatedly saying that he was worthy some more dignified things in life, something more than could suggest the seekers of green little men. He agreed to it because of some feeling of the contradiction, which was tearing him apart, and perceiving with irony paradoxical things of a normal life. A normal life?? Normal people?. He had already acquired for a long time what is the normal? - This concept is in every respect rather and, rather relative. Having risen on the lift on the fourth floor, he already called at the office door; he was about to turn away and run away downstairs. The door was opened by an elderly, getting grey man, beginning to grow bald and amazingly reminding the same mane, whom he saw so recently, lying on the grass, dead. Well, well, one anomaly, I have already met, here he is, stands directly before me and corrects the position of his glasses, and he thought and politely greeted the man. The usual hypocrisy that is so conventional under the name of politeness.

-- - Good afternoon. I have come for an interview.

-- - Come in, - the man in the glasses made a gesture by his hand, inviting Oleg to enter. And Oleg has entered. The door slammed. Oleg shuddered from unexpectedness.

-- - Do not be frightened, - its grey-haired, growing bald man calmed him, rubbing a bald head with his left hand, (it means that he is the lefthander, Oleg noted inwardly)

-- - It is automatics. We are, you know, scientists.

-- Oleg hardly bridled an ironic smile. He did not believe in any kind of supernatural things, and he was brought here exclusively by his depression and despair, and there was still some kind of possibility to earn a little bit money. There was no way to think of any prestige in this case.

-- - Why do you want to offer me this job?

-- - Because of an error in your resume.

-- - An error, - Oleg, - What kind of error? He lifted his eyebrows with astonishment?! Oleg was dawned by the thought that he came by the invitation of a madman, who somehow got his telephone number. The further speech of the last only strengthened Oleg in this opinion.

-- - You have made an error in the resume, it corresponds to specificity of a definitely law, your error characterizes you, as a proper for us person. You have made a typing error in your surname. By mathematical calculations we have counted your psychological type. You are appropriate for us.

-- -Probably, you are not appropriate for me. The tings that you said, convinces me that you should visit a psychiatrist. Well, after all I knew that there is no use to come here. And here I am, have lugged into this cranky place.

Oleg started to get angry with himself, with this mad man and with the whole world. He went to the door.

-- - Wait! - It's the man called him. Oleg turned back and saw that there was a tennis ball hanging in the air at man's face level

-- - Listen, I do not have time for your idiotic tricks. Just visit the doctor, and that's all.

The door opened. Automatics, Oleg thought and he went home at a great lick. Well, well, all the same I am still an unemployed with rare orders for translation of any kind of documents. The crisis. Oleg thought. Probably, it was necessary to work as a not qualified worker somewhere. Again that is the way the things are and again problems. If he had jumped from a roof, would be lying the same way just as that man, who was lying in the grass, dead and pacified. Oleg was angry; more likely, he was enraged. Then he calmed down a little bit and plunged again into that viscous, as if a bog depression. That moment he was trying not to think about anything. Then he did not go home, but he went to the wood. He ducked a curtsy on a snag, closed his eyes. He wished he would die this very moment. When he opened his eyes he would not believe what he could see. Something shaggy, low, chisel colour, rolling over from a foot on a foot and swinging shaggy hands, moved downhill. The being reminded some kind of a children's clockwork toy, only the growth of the thing was much higher than of toys and much more below the average person. Oleg has hastened behind this being. It was slowly disappearing behind a slope, and as if it were evaporated. The roof goes slowly, with silently slate rustling? (meaning that he started to lose his mind) - The children's proverb in Oleg's consciousness was carried by. Probably, the madness is infectious, - he solved. What further? - He asked himself, - Flying pink elephants and whistling cancers? It would be necessary to talk to a psychiatrist if something like that would again appear before his eyes. He did not go to the psychiatrist, and just came back home and went to sleep, although till the moment when the night would come, was still very far. He got awake about 12 o'clock in the evenings. He opened his eyes, and saw what should not be seen agreedable to the common sense. On the brink of his bed the being of chisel colour, sat, more likely, it reminded the brown dwarf with humanlike lines, but nevertheless differing from any person considerably enough. The being was not similar to green little men, was rather like any spiteful dwarf from a fairy tale, by whom children are usually frighten. The being grinned. Oleg throw at it one of his slippers. The being has dexterously evaded the throw, and, having jumped out from the open window, that was opened earlier by Oleg because of the heat of the day, and climbed in a drainpipe. With some strange roar got down downwards in a drainpipe and, having got out outside, quickly enough and it run somewhere dexterously. The next day Oleg visited the psychiatrist. The doctor did not find that Oleg had any deviations from the norm, and all his visions he explained by some emotional shocks and the nervous overstrain. He advised Oleg to spend more time in the nature environment, prescribed some sedatives. Having listened to a doctor's advice, Oleg followed all the doctor's councils. The next day he spent in the wood. Somewhere at about noon he saw a white figure as if, someone had thrown white bed sheet over himself, somewhere in the distance. The figure straightened the hands reminding from apart, wings and, disappeared. The devil's stress, Oleg was enraged. If, I would tell anybody about this, they would send me to a mental hospital till the end of my days. And he did not like the idea at all. Oleg hastened home. Has drunk sedatives, and, calmed down a little bit. The devil's loony, he was angry with himself, and then the depression came again. In his life everything occurred just exactly opposite to what he had expected from it. It would be impossible to tell that he waited from his destiny too much, but even that little, that he expected from his life, and that the majority of people have, he had not received from a life yet. In the novel by Charles Dickens "Great expectations?", where the main character expects from his life too much, and he got at the end what everything he so desperately had been longing for, nevertheless he receives it, but everything occurred the other way than he expected it could happen, and he got it without having avoided sufferings. Oleg suffered, as well as many of us, he also had not avoided the sufferings, but he still got nothing from his life from what he had expected to get, and he did not yet receive anything from it. Sometimes it seemed to him that he punches some kind of an invisible wall all his life, but it remains firm and unshakable as if it where a rock, absorbing all his violent and desperate efforts. The night came. This time he saw a flying, burning torch from a window. The torch flied, so as if someone invisible held it and, flying up more closer, considered the inhabitants of the house who were engaged in by the daily affairs. Here he has noticed on other balcony astonished faces of the company of young children, they were telling each other something and showing towards a torch direction. It means that I am not the only one who can see that. Oleg was surprised. What is it? The collective psychosis? What kind of the devilry is created? And what was before? Hallucinations or was it real? It is necessary to find out about all this. He decided to visit that cranky again. But in the beginning it was necessary to arrange a meeting. Telephone number of that odd fellow was defined in its phone. Oleg called.

-- -, I came for an interview at your place.

-- - I recognized you by your voice, - It's that strange man interrupted him, that man who once corrected the position of his glasses and rubbed with his left hand the bald head till it would shine.

-- - It was not so pleasant to communicate with you!

-- - I apologize, I was wrong.

-- - Well. - Your apology has toned down my anger. You should come. I am waiting for your visit.

-- - When? Right now?

-- - Yes? The man answered stiffly and hanged up.


Конец формы