'And so it was written for you,' suddenly said Varya, 'have you really still not understood it?'
And she ran to her train, leaving Yana to think about the mystical verisimilitude said.
What is more incredible was happening to her lately: 'Joanna' on the bus glass cockpit, the flight into Ilichevka, the unexpected return Gani even more incredible new look, the less surprised that she wonders.
It was as though the familiar street, and all around stood out clearer completely different landscape mysterious, invisible to anyone but her. She distinguished him all the more - the unknown shape of the mountains, bottomless abyss, the waterfalls...
And it is this parallel world, where there were unimaginable things, becoming more a reality. And not one where the queue for zmeilis dvuhrublevymi bananas sat artistic council, citizens have fled to and from work. And incredibly cheap restaurants the pre-perestroika they danced 'The drum was bad; the drummer was God '...
She knew one thing, that her new way, not just spinning from turn to turn, without meaning and purpose - she went 'somewhere'.
It was an unknown attraction, at the same time happy to chilling, powerfully attracted her farther from the usual attributes and details of being... Familiar faces, everyday work, talk, very earthly time with ever increasing speed swept past, annoying, like a snowstorm in the face.
Sometimes she thought occurred - whether all of it right?
But the sense of movement - not from series to series, from autumn to summer, from life to death, and children's anticipation, unaware of the miraculous in front was so intoxicating that she decided that if this madness, let him live!
Forced himself to do daily activities. Again ran to exhaustion on Illichivsk forest, and no longer waited for news from the Wari, reasoning that if it were possible, would have long sought Ignatius meeting.
A week passed, then another, come July.
In mail, it came rather out of inertia. And when the letter arrived, half an hour with the spirit of going to print,
The letter was conspiratorial.
'Mrs Sinegina, the parcel may receive at any time for such an address. Administration.'
Lord, for what she did, she did not deserve...
To see Ignatius again...
Happiness, it turns out, too, is not able to do. She was afraid to die before reaching the holiday village Luzhino, so lost their nerve.
All night she slept over and over again mentally scrolling through their meeting, and each time dying in any form.
On the morning of forced myself to go for a run - was a wonderful day. Dive head first into the icy stream, not even feeling the cold, and drink a cup of tea, forgetting to put sugar.
Ignatius', 'Joanna' on the wall looked sadly out of eternity on a horse with a flaxen mane flying in the dock to the train Denis.
She tried to look at present herself through the eyes of the Ignatius - a woman of about forty types tanned, pretty athletic, with short hair, here and there with gray hair and wrinkles...
But again it was for some reason, it is impossible to dress up and make up.
Let it be so - smelling of gasoline dress khakis, worn pumps without heels, which she always wore while driving, hands free manicure.
And the face of Princess Tarakanova with the same name film.
Long way to Luzhin went through the entire burning, languishing in the heat to Moscow, on a ring, then on the highway, and yet somewhere in the direction of ...
Yana caught in these turns and was tired to ask, learn, come back again to ask questions.
And she already began to feel that Luzhino and Ignatius were only mirages, like the fabulous oasis in the desert. A corn field, along which she was traveling - in a hair's breadth, as Illichevska.
And now the turn seems clubhouse and everything back to normal, the mirage dissipated. And she, John, change clothes and go to the pond to bathe.
But the turn was again a field, somewhere a mile ahead - the village where he was going down the highway passer, which John was going to ask for directions.
And that is, the closer it reaches, became more and more like Ignatius ...
Instead, she pressed the brake is not gas, the car roared, rushed.
Yana saw in the mirror blowing Ignatius' - now there was no doubt - the person most surprised than frightened. I thought only 'almost unchanged'...
A 'Zhiguli' rolled and rolled until it stopped somehow by itself.
She got out and watched, unable to move, as Ignatius approaches her.
Very slowly - this mutual recognition was painfully sweet, and magically slow, like a dream.
He was wearing a shirt with sleeves rolled up, corduroy jeans and some sandals without heels zabugornogo. In his hand was dangling string bag with a loaf of bread.
Just a lot of gray in his curly hair... And the beard.
'Little has changed,' again, she thought, maybe, she said aloud. Because Ignatius suddenly stopped, stiffened smile on his lips, preventing him.
He raised his hand to the face, as if trying to tear it.
The string bag slid to his elbow.
She stood clutching the hot July sun of the trunk, ready to accept all the conditions of the new Ghani - to shake the outstretched hand, kiss her cheek substituted ...
'Joanna,' Ignatius said.
And rushed to her or she ran.
Connect them instantly inseparable embrace was unlike anything on the dance inside the Regina (connection of souls) or at night in the train compartment Leningrad / connection of bodies)...
Combining the one and another, it was something else, third. Without separating, as before, their embrace of the world, as it were dissolved in it, the world.
In a hot July day, a corn field, train noise somewhere in the forest edge.
They are housed hug the whole world, dissolving in it.
The instant stopped.
Taxied ZIL signaled - they hugged, it turns out, in the middle of the highway.
The driver leaned out of the cab, and said cheerfully:
'Guys, there are eight pieces of roofing material? You do not need?'
And without waiting for an answer, sped away.
They sat in the car. We drove a few feet and stopped again.
Curls are yours, the falcon, which streams in the mountains - the fingers entwine, involve the abyss... Your eyes, the falcon, that honey in the mountains - and the bright and dark... and sweet, and bitter..."
'Joanna,' Ignaitus repeated.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. The collar, ears, like a child.
'Never mind, I will get used to,' she said apologetically.
'So, you feel better.'
He got behind the wheel.
She tried to calm down and give himself up.
We stopped at a continuous high fence and gates were as solid and massive.
Ignatius beeped as a particularly arbitrary. Gates did not immediately revealed a boy of twelve, as it turned out, Varin a senior.
Missed 'zhiguli' and again began to tinker with the bolt.
"it is rusty,' said Ignatius, cars here are rare.
He went to help the boy.
Old wooden house, overgrown with vines and climbing roses. Well maintained, pour the fruit garden, lush flowering daisies along the concrete leading to the house track. The smell of freshly cut grass, scattered immediately, under the trees - all of this, of course, was also a miracle.
Like everything associated with Ganey.
'We have met,' Varia said, without rising from his desk, as if they Yana long been familiar with - let's have dinner soon, all is cool.'
Darenov could grow old waiting for him to get back
Ignatius said that the bread was not. Waited and brought unloaded.
They looked both, probably does not matter. Sitting at the table at once and delicately looked away, only Varin husband Hleb with a look of Ivan the Terrible looked as though afraid that John is now pulls from his pocket a grenade.
She was horrified that did not bring any food or goodies for the kids.
Then she remembered that she had in her purse, fortunately, is a Japanese rubber toy cat, which, when inflated, shakes his tail and purrs.
Yana drove with him to appease these cats cops - one hundred percent success was, they all had children and women.
It worked this time too.
The cat came running from the house, so that no one had specifically call for dinner. Guests sat at a table and engaged in eating, but they gradually came to Ignatius to normal.
Before eating the said the prayer.
The dinner was no wine, meat and fish, salad without sour cream - Peter strict fasting, as it turned out Ian. Food did not talk - is not accepted.
She got used to quickly - journalistic skill instantly adapt to any environment.
How long ago was it would be interesting to get into this religious community!
But now she was full of Ignatius. And the unusual meal, and a huge table, and colorful window veranda, quirky game patches of color - it was just magical for her new habitat Ignatius.
Oh, Lord, Ignatius is a priest! ..
After the dinner, when they walked together hand in hand in his blissful dimension to luzhinskomu forest, Ignatius started talking about it.
Even then she would understand - what is now the only thing he is interested in talking - and talk about the miraculous his address, all that was in the Parisian life.
On the night the road to the villa for the deadly ampoule, a strange break in the car, so he met with Gleb and his father Peter. And finally, on the night on the 9th of February in his Paris apartment.
And she understood everything, though he said only that it was the fire, which also met Blaise Pascal once, and too abruptly changed life.
And yet - suddenly flung-open boundless world, pouring on you passionately-hot stream of love.
In which burns everything that hinders the soul to respond to this flow, merge with it - all shelter, clothing, tight body itself sinful.
And you are perishing, becoming more self ... It is difficult, almost impossible to convey this by earthly words...
His excitement and electrification will be passed immediately to her.
Recall the prophetic dream for the old New Year, Ignatius for riding a black shaft escalator.
His invitation to her face collapses into the blackness, her desperate prayer for him.
Then they both will remember, calculate, and the old new year will be the same as the 77th. And it does it will not be surprised.
Then Ignatius talk about something else, but all the same.
'No, not that he has changed,' thought Joanna, 'it is simply unknown to, and touched him, as in Pushkin's 'Prophet' and he began to see, feel, understand, quite different.
Countless lines through two points - he sees them, these lines, see, the charts and live according to those that are unavailable to others.
And if this is madness - she did with it. And with these luzhinskimi pilgrims. So kindly coo and look - as leprous/..
But with her, and not to talk to them now Ignatius spoke about in his 'address'. And the Lord heard it that night, the 77th.
And it is impossible that he wished to separate what is made in one piece!
It should not leave today, we must stay at least until tomorrow.
She has not seen Ignatius' picture.
And if the new Ignatius' state, in its fullness to the edges of the unknown that kept at least one fire unburned bridge, it was a bridge with their Ignatius. Narrow luzhinskaya trail that leads to Heaven.
They teetered on him hand in hand at the luzhinsky evening. She greedily absorbed everything said Gan.
And burn it with fire, and melted trunks luzhinskih pines, and the setting sun melted.
When they returned, the house was already full of people - and in the garden, and on the porch, some arrived with their children.
It was quite unlike the usual suburban synagogue - the guests wandered through the benches, chairs, corners - who weeded, watered someone who was cutting vegetables in the kitchen, who read it. All were in business, and all was quiet, silence, some spoke in a whisper in twos and threes.
As if at a funeral.
Many young people, but faded colors of clothes, women without makeup at all, so that John complied with the dress code.
Hair hidden under scarves, long skirts, face serious, rare smile some frightened. Ian felt like a stranger, a stranger to them and seemed Gan, though, and tried to "do not arise."
All this seemed like a garland of lights, where only one - Ganina - burning.
Later Joanna met other 'hot".
'We are slaves, they are children,' said Hleb of such ones.
The fact that some were serious, though effective, but labor, for "sons" was pleasure.
It was a breakthrough to what was intended by the Creator prototype, in which they have not played, and lived in it organically. While others just climbed up, scraping his hands in blood.
What was it - the original gift, like Mozart, or later, for some personal quality?
Yes, God loves everyone, everything - his children ...
But why are some lights reciprocal love, others - smolder until they break out, a third and leave glowing forever in eternity?
And the fourth - all are wood.
'The cause somewhere in ourselves,' thought Joanna, 'We choose a cold, smoldering or fire.'
Sonship is a response to the love of the Father.
Sons of Luzhino not be jealous, they will pamper and protect them all and to forgive.
As children, who that night squealing on the tracks were worn, torn green gooseberries, and nobody stopped.
Varia first went on the attack and said that she should be invited to spend the night Jan, but she sees John, how many people come in large numbers ... literally sleep will be side by side on the veranda and gazebo on cots and sleeping bags, which are almost all imported in the early summer and kept on coming to visit in the cupboard under the stairs.
Yanareplied that let owners do not bother, it's great Lodge in the car.
Here Varia finally scared and say no, why, once this thing, and she will talk with Uncle Eugene, owned a summer residence. In his free half loft, and Varya hopes that he will not mind.
Apparently, Varya imagined how Ignatius at night when everyone is asleep in their bags, sneaking into the car with Jana unseemly intentions.
Yana knows that Ignatius specially went to the abbey to his spiritual father for permission to meet her, and Gleb, Varin husband, self-denial, was shocked to liberalism confessor.
And, having no right to condemn cleric, suit dressing Varya.
Surely they do not realize that John would rather die than get up at Gani in the way? That his way is holy as well for her as for him.
Varya returned and said that Uncle Jack not only does not mind about the attic, but also became a fan of the TV series, which regularly sees on the box. So they will talk about.
She said it is not without irony, but John was on its spit irony - now they have to Hazor was a day in stock!
After a general tea with jam and rye croutons Gleb Ganya led to the studio - a separate wing in the depth of the site. ignatius slept there, too.
And Joanna went to meet his uncle Eugene.
Which was already known from Ignatius, that he's younger son of the priest, scion of an ancient and noble family, which Gan on secrecy grounds not mentioned.
Accepted a dignity long before the revolution, was repressed in the late twenties. Then link the long-awaited resolution to the rural parish, occupation ...
After the war - a return to Moscow and even order - for being in a church basement in hiding for several months, the Communists, the wounded, Jews - all of whom were in danger.
Two sons (Gleb's father and uncle Eugene0 he trained in loyalty to the Soviet authorities and sincerely professed their particular "Christian communism" as the dispensation of earthly existence.
Father Gleb, icon painter and restorer, died young, blessed his son to continue his work. And Uncle Jack, who was educated mother taught several languages, went on a purely secular path - he taught at the school, gave private lessons, doing translations in scientific publishing.
Saving money, has carried out old dream - to have bought a house in the suburbs, so that together as a family to work on the ground...
But the harmony did not work - my uncle's family Genis, although numerous / children with their husbands, wives and grandchildren / was, according to Varia, 'possessed woman.'
And in them the old man had no peace, and in the country and does continuous bickering - because of the rooms, beds, where someone dug up and ripped off as much as you ...
Even while she was alive hostess kept somehow, and then - just do not fight.
Here's nephew and offered - will live to take care of the site and home, how much to pay the rent.
And this money so that Uncle eUGENE has divided among his household quarrel, - let them relieve themselves on them who give the South, who is in Moscow, who in the Baltic states - who are everywhere.
Yana found out more details later. And yet, with xerox book, which put her Gan, to read at bedtime (Soloviev, 'The Spiritual Foundations of Life'). Yana showed up to the old man who is not just waiting for her, but for the dinner table.
' Sit down, Yanochka. You're probably not accustomed to the posts, but I was blessed by weakness in the milk. Cheese's, oil anoint, do not hesitate. Wine's own, home - see, I have a grape growing? Small, true, but true, no frost is not afraid.
Well, with an acquaintance.
He boldly crossed, crossed, and John. What a nice old man! Took a sip from the glass.
The wine was fabulous, just like in the fairy-tale country of Abkhazia. Even a faint smell of the wine 'Isabella'.
She suddenly felt hungry and brutal start flailing sandwiches - the old man could hardly spread. It was very embarrassing, but she could not help myself. She always woke up from worrying ravenous appetite.
They drank the second one.
'And I'll quite differently represented. Hateful madam three girth, Sonya Golden Hand. You a sign from the world? Jargon them, the manners, the whole Tale - where it went?
Yana talked about his trips to areas hit her a lesson about reading in the colony, when quite scary-looking thug of a child prompted each other shalili diligently taken out by rote.
Uncle Eugene laughed.
'Well, in the courts sitting in the processes of affairs acquainted with the prisoners. They are usually reluctant to contact...'
'Yes, you have a great twisted, and deeply ... At the highest level, I'll tell you. I'm like detective stories, the language read, spoiled, you might say. And you always look happy.'
'Well, thanks,' Yana grabbed another sandwich.
'Eat, Eat... And most importantly... As you know very bottom... The bottom of the human soul. Those demons in everyone...'
'Well, the demons in everyone - this is from the director. My wife and collaborator, said Joanna ' it is he who deceive them. Who hens, who demons.'
'I think you feel them, too,' the grandfather insisted - and you feel sorry for them.
'Do you mean demons?'
' No, the people they lend themselves. And rightly so.
The world you have such a terrible, cruel - it's me you objectively, as a spectator saying. Everywhere the power of the devil's ruining people's...
Sorry for him in life, such die... But the Lord with them. This is a very convincing show you...'
'You know, I made that somehow did not think...'
'You see, no thought, as it turned out. Pavel all the time like a miracle helps. The Lord is a miracle.'
Such an unexpected interpretation is liked to Joanna.
'This is what I do not understand Yana, as you have it all slips? I mean censorship.
'This is also our friend Gradov. Convinces punches - it's all he said.
To push for it is the most important thing. You after all, a collection published "On the black marks', right? The deficit does not get it.'
'Do you want I'll present it you?In Joanna's suddenly flashed a crazy idea - an autographed? And I'll autograph Kravchenko, convey your compliments. It will be nice.'
' Really? This is a great honor for me,' the old man was delighted.
'The next time will bring. And detectives to grab you, we have a lot of the language. English husband knows a little polish.
'I also know Polish. May I have French.'
'The other day I will bring.'
'Why should you worry, you can do it through Varya.'
'Never mind, it would be nice to see you yet, you have me so much. I'll come and stay fro a while, if you will not drive me away.'
'God have mercy - willingly stepped in uncle Eugene. The skin on his cheeks were burning from the flabby wines, like a slightly deflated ball of the May. How ca I drive away such a guest&
'Is your attic you free?' continued to 'play' Joanna.
Only not to scare!
'For you? Always!'
'That's wonderful. Therefore, I take it off until the end of the summer, together we will write the next series. It's a deal?'
And, without giving the old man knew it, slapped on the table a bundle of money. All that was in her purse. The old man stared at them dumbfounded, then on Jan, who continued to smile radiantly.
'Lord, help me ... It will soon run out of vacation.'
The grandfather was offended.
' Remove the filthy lucre, madam. From you are just the detectives.'
'And the detectives will bring a full stove. French, Polish, Australian...'
'This does not exist.'
'For you there is everything. We will write it.'
'Withdraws - fall to my knees' Yana thought, fitting where to fall.'
'But ... You have not even seen the room. There's a very hot day, you do not like it.'
'I will enjoy it!' - Joanna yells, smacking him on the cheek-ball - for our friendship! But Warya and Gleb decided together to write a detective story.
They still drink a sip. The old man gets up and pulls from a drawer bed linen.
'Climb yourself, Yanoa?' Just gently hold the handrail. And in light of the window does not open - mosquitoes will fly.
A steep narrow staircase. Spacious room - an iron bed, closet, table and stool. Walls are covered with paneling on the walls are decorated with bunches of herbs - mint, chamomile, and even some unknown, making a thick, infused with the July heat, the air may seem to drink as tea.
On the table left by someone scarf with polka dots and 'The New Testament'. Foreign publications, such only began to appear in Moscow.
Yana reveals random - so she sometimes wonders.
'And he arose, took up his bed and went to his house.'
(Matthew 9:7).
'Bed' ... Something to do with underwear, which she keeps under her arm?
'And he arose, took up his bed and went to his house'...
What this meant, she realizes after a few years.
And remember that phrase, when he was the mistress of the house of Luzhino. And astonished to tears, as always when meeting with the miracle of the Lord.
And then, smiling, coincidentally 'beds', she bunk bed and turned off the light from the mosquitoes, as told Uncle Jack, open the glass door to small balcony.
All were in bed - not a rustle, not a light.
The July night was warm and bright, the moon was rising only.
Trees, vegetable beds, flower beds, paths, Ignatius house in the garden, the garden seemed to mysteriously delicate decoration.
The bluish-white stars were shining flowers, swaying magically smell of strawberries with the balcony Perfoliate cloud.
And a few dozen meters slept Ignatius. Lively, warm, stained paint with your fingers.
Ignatius, who soon after the ordeal to become priest, a priest and serve God.
She thought about it with bright joy, because of course, no one and nothing else could belong to Ignatius.
Only God.
And she is given the greatest miracle of grace to get into this house and now stand on the balcony a few feet from Ignatius, waving away the mosquitoes ferocious Luzhinski. And to think that a half months ahead.
And thank Heaven for suddenly revealed to happiness.