<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><FictionBook xmlns="http://www.gribuser.ru/xml/fictionbook/2.0" xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"><description><title-info><genre>antique</genre><author><first-name>gregory</first-name><last-name>trigger</last-name></author><book-title>One Spring Day</book-title><coverpage><image xlink:href="#_0.jpg" /></coverpage><lang>rus</lang></title-info><document-info><author><first-name>gregory</first-name><last-name>trigger</last-name></author><program-used>calibre 0.8.38</program-used><date>9.11.2012</date><id>314417e6-b844-436e-abdf-93676fe92995</id><version>1.0</version></document-info></description><body>
<section>
<p><strong>            ONE SPRING DAY</strong></p><empty-line /><p>It is a real pleasure to breathe a refreshing wind of spring after a long and boring winter, when heavy and low spreading clouds start dispersing fast, and when you look at up the sky, you see the bright sun shining high above your head. And there, unseen birds begin signing, and you feel happiness and comfort have already come around you. It is really a delight when it gets warm, and when trees and flowers begin to cover with green leaves as well as colorful petals of blooming…</p>

<p>The world around you becomes nice and fragrant, and every morning you are in a good mood, overfilled with new spirits of life.  Spring – it is a driving source of a new hope for the best. Everybody looks forward to meet his feelings with all his hearts and souls. Every man feels being elated, and all of his gloomy thoughts disappear, and days and nights bring him a joyful admiration of living.</p>

<p>Spring inAsiais especially fine. Regular rains wash the streets bringing them to a blinding cleanness.</p>

<p>The soul itself sings and heart beats strongly seeking for coming of new feelings…</p><empty-line /><p>We were seating at our favorite usual place near the big window in our beloved small café. The café, itself, had already taken the scene of a new wonderful spring interior, as if it had just passed through  general cleaning, where it got washed and became shining brightly like a spring rose.</p>

<p>Hardly one could say that the café was overcrowded. Quite on the contrary, there were only few patrons there. The smell of the black Arabica coffee made our heads swimming off, may be because we were young or  may be those good feelings had already carried away our hearts.</p><empty-line /><p>Jury Ivashkin a leading actor of the local theatre for Drama and Comedy was speaking in a low voice,                                                                                                                       which had been his constant manner and tradition. I never heard him shouting or</p>

<p>yelling so nasty like  many other men who used to crowd, as sexually stricken donkeys, around the tables, drinking coffee with brandy and gawking at pretty women with their brown, sparkling eyes, feeling unbreakable attraction to the representatives of another  female sex…</p>

<p>Unlike them, Ivashking was known to be an example of self-control, reliability and intellect. Even I had been, very frequently, an object of my friend’s criticism. But, fortunately, I had been criticized by him very gently and with a deep sense of love and respect, and it should be said that, frequently he turned out be right, since, I was 10 years younger, and, of course, irrespective of our close friendship, I had another views on modern life. Unfortunately, I could talk smut, and often could be unrestrained and, instead of long debates, I might rushed to attack with fists any of scoundrels who could took the audacity to behave as cads in the presence of esteemed people.  But anyway I was grateful to Jury when he stopped me from doing hasty, silly actions, for he was a clever and well-bred fellow. I felt his rightness, and tried to follow him in many situations of the life.</p>

<p>“Though, sometimes, to punish a guy, who is sure must be beaten for his intricate, is worthy of a good respect”...</p>

<p>My best friend had been a very good and thoughtful actor indeed. He played many of his parts with a sheer skill and inspiration to his vocation. I supposed he would not lose his face even in the principal theaters of our country, and I believed he would not be a bit-part actor, had he have been invited to major theatres of the country. But unfortunately, his fate had tuned its back upon him, and he was doomed to live on the Asian provincial stages without any hope for the best…</p>

<p>Jury had been serving for Theatre Art for nearly 30 years and eventually, his merits and talent were noticed by officials and he was appreciated for his true skill. The Ministry of Culture of our republic had at last recognized him and conferred him the rank of the honored artist of the republic after long, painstaking work.  I was the first among many other friends who congratulated him on his deserved reward.</p>

<p> So, as quite as natural, all of us took him as a pure source for imitation and respect. Jury was a very good man to deal with, and many dwellers of our city loved him for his sociability and generosity.  It should be mentioned as a supplementary description to the portrait of my friend, that he, despite of his middle age, was a real dandy. He, himself, was a good costume designer. Many of men admired the way he used to dress in.  He was good at clothing design, and I was sure he could demonstrate men’s style of dressing at the best fashion shows…</p>

<p>I liked him very much, and he was my dress designer too. Both we were well dressed and that thing caused a fierce envy from the part of other guys, who were more overfilled with money but not with elegancy…</p><empty-line /><p>… Thus, we were sitting at our cosy café from the very opening, and enjoyed chattering with each other very much.</p>

<p>The smell and taste of the black coffee, well done, were in the air…. I offered him to drink a glass of brandy to celebrate his new position. He agreed, and we emptied two small glasses of that high spirit.  I wished to go far, but my friend stopped me, saying it was enough for that time, but it would be continued that day in the evening party at his apartments in close click of friends.</p>

<p>I obeyed saying okay, and Jury explained me the reason. That day, at three o’clock afternoon he had the appointment at the Ministry of Culture where the minister himself was to greet him personally…</p><empty-line /><p>…It was surely a real pleasure to sit down in our café in that lovely spring day. I enjoyed with the presence of my friend, actor, hoping to share with him a nice evening party at his apartments.</p>

<p> The entrance door of the café was being opened for many times, and many other habitués ran into merrily. When they noticed us they walked resolutely up to our table, greeted my friend, wanted him a good luck and prosperity. The majority of them had already learnt about the news of his reward from local newspapers.</p><empty-line /><p>It should be said again, that Jury Ivashkin was a well popular man in the society, and he, as a polite person, thanked everybody who saluted him, cordially. But very soon, he began casting his glances at his watch impatiently, for he was afraid for being late for the Ministry of Culture.</p>

<p>Therefore, as I already noticed, his day’s attire was especially festive, as if he was going to strike the officials with his eccentric dressing. He was well impressive that day indeed. That day, he put on the white Italian jeans and the red-brown summer Brazilian shoes suitable to the jeans, and his light brown flannel shirt had been in full harmony with his eccentric attire.  Around his well shaved cheeks  was a charming smell of precious French eau- de- cologne, and his thin short moustache made him looked liked a noble count of blood.  His brown eyes shone with a light of a happy man who sat on white horseback rushing him to the gate of his glory… and his best friend whom he regarded to be his brother as a loyal knight was galloping next to him…</p><empty-line /><p>Frankly speaking, Ivashkin was already a bit tipsy, since we, under my insistence, had emptied two more glasses of brandy and dranked three or more cups of splendid black coffee. I felt my knees begun slightly trembling and I thought we had overdone a little…</p>

<p>“Who knows why? May be, mostly, because of excitement or spring…</p><empty-line /><p>“ Look here, Gregory” – Ivasking moved close to me: “ Now, the appointment time is approaching. Let’s end up with all of these, and run away from here, lest not to be late for the Ministry.</p>

<p>“Don’t bother, Jury – I replied –“  We shall start now – I was a bit reluctant to move away,  because Isabella a very pretty girl, stepped readily into the café. As soon as she saw us, she quickly ran up to our festive table.</p>

<p> –“  Hi, Gregory.  How do you do dear, Jury Ivanovich- she addressed politely to my friend- “- Best congratulation on you with your rank!”</p><empty-line /><p>It stroked me at once that if we would not disappear that moment, we would sure be late not only for the Ministry of Culture, but for Lord too.</p><empty-line /><p>Invashkin broke into a broad smile, responding cordially to Isabella’s words, then jumped up and kissed her thin fingers gallantly. I again realized we ought to run away as quick as possible, anyway we would see nobody but pretty Isabella.</p><empty-line /><p>The time was really running up. With a deep sigh, we stood up and said good-bye to all in the café, including pretty Isabella. Though, I managed to whisper her to meet her today in the evening to invite to Ivashking’s party. The pretty Isabella, to my great delight, agreed at once with a space speed, shooting at me with quick agreement… by her striking, charming eyes…</p><empty-line /><p>…Telling to the truth, I did not understand clearly why I was in need by Ivasking to escort him to the doorsteps of Ministry of Culture. But as it is sinning in the song -“  May men’s friendship should be first but meeting girls should be afterwards…”  that was my slogan…</p><empty-line /><p>Pompously and solemnly, we left the café as two musketeers hurrying in up  to the knight’s tournament.</p><empty-line /><p>We already walked a considerably long distance away from the café, when, quick of a sudden, my honorable friend stopped and seized my hand with the words that he wanted to do small pissing at the moment.</p>

<p>I was surprised hearing that, and asked him why he did not do it in the café before leaving.</p><empty-line /><p>“ Well, Jury, why didn’t  you enter the lavatory in the café?” There was more convenient and nice there instead of here in the road”</p>

<p>“ I felt no the desire to pass urine when we were leaving! I felt I was good there. But now I feel being number one!”.</p>

<p>“Excuse, me, dear but where are you going to perform it? – I was puzzled for a moment –“ As for me, I see no a suitable place for this such a delicate enterprise!”.  My, by the way, I will join you too “- I exclaimed, feeling, suddenly, the same unbearable desire of pissing as if Jury had infected me with his unexpected physiological need.</p><empty-line /><p>And it so happened, that we, both, simultaneously, as if a magician had waved with his magic stick, noticed close to us, a shabby poor structure with a distorted, half-broken dirty roof, which had been long time ago used as a municipal lavatory of the city. However, due to the ugly exterior, this structure seemed to be deserted, and actually, the people’s path to it had been forgotten for ages.</p>

<p> There were rampant tall Asian bushes with fancy colored flowers surrounding that poor structure, and tall maple trees had kept deep in secret that structure under their deep shades.</p>

<p>And indeed, we were walking through the sparsely populated area, where nobody used to walk for long time. We intended to make our way to the Ministry of Culture shorter, therefore, had chosen that deserted path.</p>

<p>And I, as a real friend, but I never been a fair weather friend, decided to back up the honored artist of our republic.</p>

<p>“Let’s do it here- I suggested, feeling, unexpectedly, a strong attack of unbearable pissing which made me jumping as a wild gipsy horse…</p>

<p>Ivashkin hesitated for a while then exclaimed:</p>

<p> - “ No, Greg! How shall we do it? What if anybody notice us! I am in panic of somebody’s backbiting us tomorrow!</p>

<p>“Come on, Jury – I tried to make my friend to calm down: -” I don’t suppose your are going to be number two!.  Don’t worry and put it away of your brains!” “ If you do caca here, I shall die of laughter for you will be the first actor to do it before meeting with the high rank official” – I joked amicably and with these, rather innocent, words I slipped into the whole heap of tall Asian exotic bushes, hoping Ivashkin would follow me.</p>

<p> To my great astonishment, he refused, saying it might be not only indecently but rather the breach of the rules of decorum in the streets. He continued saying he would rather to enter that poor abandoned hut which was a former lavatory in a distant past in1960.</p>

<p> “Really, it was amazing, how it had been secured for 30 years untouched.”</p>

<p>“Hadn’t somebody from the archeological department of the local government considered of keeping it as a museum relic?”</p><empty-line /><p>“ No, Gregory,  – Ivasking was still protesting against my stubborn insistence to perform a casual action in the saving bushes:- “ It is impossible, I can’t follow you. This is absolutely unacceptable regarding to my position in the society”.</p><empty-line /><p>Meantime, I was doing my “work” rather readily, feeling a tremendous relief in my soul and flesh.</p><empty-line /><p>“ Hey, Jury stop being a sanctimonious man. Don’t be a fool!  Join me please! We are short of time.  You know it better than I!”</p><empty-line /><p>“ No, Greg, on no account. The newly born honored artist of the republic, was stubborn as a Tedjen donkey –</p>

<p>“ I would rather enter this structure!”</p>

<p>“Please, don’t do that at all!” – I was about to cry – “Come here, there is the jungle of tall bushes around! Nobody will see you but me, together with these ugly flies!”   Stop going to that rotten structure for the sake of Lord– I shouted at him, jumping up at the spot, making my work to meet an end.</p><empty-line /><p>Unfortunately, Ivashkin seemed had paid no heed to my words and moved bravely towards the half-ruined, distorted cabin - a strange and curious symbiosis of toilet and a miserable hovel.</p><empty-line /><p>When I finished my manipulations and, successfully, jumped out of the dusty and stuffy bushes, just irrigated by me, I saw no Jury. Most probably, he was already inside the depth of the structure. I tried to peep in, but failed to make out something because there was dark inside and I brushed away the stinking swarm of buzzing flies flown out of the structure. I jumped quickly off it, turning my face aside, with a sense of aversion from that lonely standing but bad stinking hovel.</p>

<p>“ Hey, Jury –I shouted in a loud voice: - “ How are you feeling  over there inside! Be careful, my dear!  Please look out ! There is too dark inside!</p>

<p>“ No bother, Gregory! I am o’key now!</p>

<p>It was Jury’s voice coming out of the structure as if he was sitting in the mausoleum of his glorious fame.</p><empty-line /><p> Then I moved 20 steps off that “sweet smelling” half-demolished hut and sat down on the next bench awaiting my friend.</p><empty-line /><p>Spring was in full swing around me! The birds were singing their admirable songs. The flowers were blooming and smelling wonderfully. I wanted to join birds in their songs of love and recalled Issabella’s amber eyes, her beautiful legs and long brown hair…</p><empty-line /><p>I looked at my watch. Five minutes had passed away. I wondered what Ivashking had been doing there inside so long time. When after more 10 minutes gone I was bewildered. I stood up, and came nearer…</p><empty-line /><p>Suddenly, to my fear, I heard a lingering moan coming out the stinking structure. I was scared and came closer to the distorted door of the hovel.</p>

<p>What I heard next, made me perplexed:” I am lost! I am too unlucky fellow now!  It is the end of my career. Greg, what shall I have to do further! There are fields of big mines of craps! Spare me Lord!”</p><empty-line /><p>… On leaving the structure after successful visiting, Jury Ivashking, a talented, elegantly dressed actor, did not noticed the fresh biggest heap of crap, among other numerous mines by which the structure was rich, and as a weak-sighted poor fellow, he treaded on it. It was not a simple mine it was a huge heap, the same size as an Easter pie. May be it was an elephant who released himself after a good supper at the zoo.</p><empty-line /><p>Poor Jury rushed outside, crying out like a mad, with the protruded eyes opened wide and skipping as a quick kangaroo on one foot uplifted forward. I stuck dumped looking at him.</p>

<p>Ivashking was yelling, and then started whining like a crazy castrated stallion. I looked at his feet and almost fell down of horror. There were no feet at all. I saw boots covered lavishly with fat excrements as if it were the camouflaged boots of a solder.</p>

<p>At first, I grabbed my head with my hands then I fell down on the bench with a furious laughter.</p>

<p>I was rolling over the bench in ecstasy of laughter.</p>

<p>“Oh, my God ! There were big mines, fields of mines, Greg” – Jury repeated those terrible words, not understanding properly what he was saying – You warned me, but I, old fool, disobeyed you!” - His eyes were wild. His hands were trembling as if he was a paralytic one -</p>

<p>- “45 minutes are left for the time appointed to the Ministry of Culture. What must I do, dear Greg?  I am lost as an actor! “</p><empty-line /><p>I was unable to react. I had been suffocating because of a great, painful laughter.</p>

<p>Meantime, the poor actor fell down desperately on the neighboring dusty and dirty bench with his Italian jeans and feverishly rubbed the spoiled Brazilian moccasins with the tuft, intended to save his shoes somehow. Then, he, with his eyes widely burning, began to wash and rinse the boots in the running water of aryk trying to bring them to original standard.</p><empty-line /><p>“What I have done – What shall I do” - he repeatedly grieved over his deep sorrow and despair:”– Greg, dear Greg, save me, please!</p>

<p>“The Minister is waiting for me to come.” – Poor Jury was uttering those words to space.  “There were fields, fields of mines inside! And I had treaded upon the craps strongly!”  – he was still weeping dramatically, as if he was playing the part of  Shakespeare’s king Leer, being a great actor of the big stage!</p><empty-line /><p>Pulling myself together as I could, I realized, irrespectively liked I it or not, but I had to help my poor friend, and still hiccupping and shaking with laughter, I ran up at him and asked him to calm down.</p>

<p>“ O’keyl, Jury! We are really short of time. So, get away all sentiments and move quickly to the house. Stop rubbing your poor shoes. Won’t you hope to use them further?  Take them off and throw inside that mining field! I know none of dry-cleaning which can accept your boots to bring them to high quality.”</p><empty-line /><p>The time was really running up, and there was a danger to be late for the meeting with the minister.  We did not want to waste our time any longer…</p><empty-line /><p>“ Run and get a taxi as quick as possible – I commanded him after a small pause - Be quick. Hurry up! We shall discuss it later!</p>

<p>Ivashkin was staring at me with the eyes full of fear and tears…</p><empty-line /><empty-line /><p>We rushed furiously as two crazy bulls to the crossroad to get a taxi. Fortunately, a yellow” dogan” drove out of the corner.</p>

<p> “ Hey, taxi- I whistled loudly.</p>

<p>The taxi pulled up and we jumped into it like smart mice.</p>

<p>The taxi driver turned out to be our good friend.</p>

<p>“ Hi, dear Greg!  Oh, Jury Ivanovich, you are here either!</p>

<p>‘ Hi, dear Kurban! Take us, please as fast as you can to Jury’s home! We are strongly running out of time.</p>

<p>“ No borther, I shall- replied the taxi-driver willingly and he started with a jerk.</p>

<p>“ Jury Ivanovich,”- the taxi-driver was inclined on small talking – I have managed to see you in the last play!</p>

<p>“Sorry can’t remember the title– he giggled – I was tipsy a bit. Together with me was my mistress,   that big-tits Zoyka!</p>

<p>“It was she who brought me there! I wanted to stand a drink to you and Gregory after the performance, but Zoyka that daughter of bitch talked me out of…. the taxi driver was chattering like a magpie.</p><empty-line /><p>All the way back home, me, together with the actor, unlike the merry taxi-driver, were keeping sinister silence.</p>

<p>Jury himself showed full indifference to taxi-driver innocent talking since all of his thoughts were far away from a real life…</p><empty-line /><p>But quick of a sudden, the taxi-driver, keeping driving fast, turned his head towards the back seat, and exclaimed in a great surprise:” Well, guys! What is a nasty stinking inside?</p>

<p>I realized it was impossible to deceive him that moment, and disclosed the source of stinking, hoping to find the backing up from the taxi-driver. Ivashkin sat, lowering his head down, as if that disclosure was not his business at all.</p>

<p>To my astonishment, the taxi-driver, Kurban, reacted upon the news in a different way:</p>

<p>“ What’s this?  Has he really shitted himself? ” Haven’t you, gardashes, got crazy both? Greg, ara.! What are fucking tricks, doganym sekim!</p>

<p> “He will daub the passenger seats inside the car. Don’t drink so much vodka, Jury Ivanovich! You are not on the stage now!</p><empty-line /><p>Jury seemed to be a man to be unhappy forever. He was unable of speak and I started to be his interpreter:” Well, dear Kurban, please calm down! Don’t worry! Everything is o’key! He has just wrapped the shitted foot with local papers. He will not smudge your car!</p>

<p>“ Has he really shitted into his pants ?– Kurban was still  doubted, driving the car artfully with one hand and looking back at us every two seconds -</p>

<p>“ I am sure, all these actors, are the same”. If I knew he was a scum I would not have let him in”.</p>

<p>“ Hey, you poor actor, stop moving restlessly on your seat. I just have  today covered it with new velvet cloth– he, suddenly, shouted squeakily. –“  Be sitting still, kyzin sekkim, ara!” “ I do hate the very idea of washing the car after you, shitter!”.</p><empty-line /><p>Fortunately the taxi car soon had reached the apartments of Jury. I overpaid the fare, and we quit the taxi fast.</p>

<p>Kurban, a professional taxi-driver , spat maliciously  on the road staring, for a while, at our backs through the windshield,  then twisted quickly with his forefinger near his temple, and then drove away, anxiously sniffing the air inside the passenger compartment.</p><empty-line /><p>The time appointed to the meeting with the Minister of Culture was going to be collapsed.</p>

<p>As for poor Ivasking, he had 20 minutes enough to be washed, cleaned and ready for having the audience with the Minister.  The fate of his splendid high expensive Brazilian leather shoes hanged in midair…</p>

<p>Quickly, in my turn, I ran to my own apartments, preparing myself for a solemn evening party, Ivasking was going to have at his house…</p><empty-line /><p>Three hours later, there was a call in my room. I took up the receiver. There was Jury’ voice in it.</p>

<p>“ Hello, Gregogy- It is me speaking!</p>

<p>- Yes, I hear!</p>

<p>- Everything was good! The talk with the minister was fruitful.  I am already at home.</p>

<p>- Very good – I replied at him.</p>

<p>“ Don’t forget about today’s party, Greg!</p>

<p> - Of course, I shan’t!</p>

<p>Ivashkin paused, then said in a deep low voice – “ Gregory, I beg you not to tell anyone about what had happened with me this morning!</p><empty-line /><p>I bursted out of laughing:</p>

<p>- “ Dear Jury! If you know, how I do want to retell all details about your morning adventures!</p>

<p>- Please treat me from this moment as most gently as you can!  Don’t  make me upset, somehow!</p>

<p>- Please say only sweet and kind words to me! Handle me with subtle care. Anyway – I smiled broadly – I shan’t be able to keep that tragedy in secret for a long time”.</p>

<p>“ Oh, yes,  alas, I am sure you  won’t  – Ivasking seemed had already come to himself after that morning unexpected calamity-</p>

<p>“ I swear to treat you as the most beloved lady I have ever  managed to embrace in my life- Ivashkin said, raising his forefinger up as a wise astrologer…</p>

<p>That passion and solemn phrase was uttered with a deep feeling of the great actor, belonging to the famous school of actors by Stanislavsky.</p><empty-line /><p>When that festive party was in full swing, I was spinning in a quick dance with pretty Issabella, whom I had met an hour before the party to start, in our café, where I managed to drink with her the aromatic black Arabic coffee, felt being overfilled with a deep sense of attraction to her. I danced with her, admiring at her slim and slender physique, smelling her hair and looking with love at her amber eyes with all spring hopes…</p>

<p>Jury all the time was heading the festive table being the nail and soul of the evening party.</p>

<p>There were neither signs of fear nor despair in his clever and thoughtful actor’s eyes. He seemed had already forgotten that notorious shabby structure, which nearly to destroy his brilliant career in the world of Art but killed his Brazilian boots forever…</p>

<p>He treated me during the party so kindly, as he could allow to himself, because he remembered very well the terms and conditions of our friendly agreement…</p><empty-line /><p>P.S.  Sometimes, at nights, when a sudden stream of reminiscences, makes me awake from a sleep, I get up, strongly excited, and in the light of my night lamp, I see again before my eyes a swimming vision of our Asian spring overfilled with joyful sounds of young voices, and I feel a strong desire to throw away my current boring adult life and plunge into the past emotions of my green years. And, if, whenever, the fate brings me back to the city of my young days, I shall pass through all customs and passport controls and fly by a plane to the place, where I was born and have lived for nearly forty years to bow low to the grave of my best friend and put some spring flowers on the plate of his tomb….</p>

<p><strong> </strong></p>

<p><strong> Gregory Trigger. Moscow 2008.</strong></p>

<p><strong> </strong></p><empty-line /><p><strong> </strong></p><empty-line /><empty-line /><p>Сконвертировано и опубликовано на http://SamoLit.com/</p>
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