On the Wings of Hope: Prose (Recognized)

Ahead into the past

Step, step, step.

His feet were carrying him forward – there where he has once spent ten years of his life, ten long years... Here he came out of a next street's turn and stopped – sighted joyfully and with relief. Yes, he has come at the long last – after ten years of separation he returned back to his native school, to people who have given him so much – helped make the first steps, supporting and encouraging him...

So, he has come, returned to his memoirs in reality. Only after ten years of separation life has finally granted him this chance. After all, he was just a little child when he once crossed this threshold – small helpless one, needing protection and aid of others... Now he could defend others himself.

Approached a school building – and almost instantly was plunged into a joyful and carefree atmosphere of childhood – the time which he spent in a work, and not entertainments. Entertainments... he smiled. Burning of the precious gift of life, a substitute for idlers. He distinctly remembered for now how he has spent this time working – nay, not in that silly cramming, but clever study instead – and learned to find joy in that.

And others... other men did other choices. Someone – one close to his, someone completely different. They built their own life, everyone his own way – as they desired, as considered it necessary, as it was convenient for them. In a word, everyone was walking his own path – they had the right. Someone drank beer and smoked cigarettes. Somebody endless played football, spending his time for all day long on a stamped asphalt of a stadium. Some crammed thick correct textbooks. Shortly, everyone was going his own way he has chosen.

A step, and another one, and lots of more steps – rising on old ladders of an old building. First, second, the third floor... Stop. He will first meet his former class teacher, and then the rest of them. A knock at the door – and a painfully familiar, yet considerably grown old woman's face. A warm smile on his face – and the woman answers him with the same. She recognizes him and welcomes, obviously glad to meet him – and so does he. A conversation starts – a long talk which, it appeared, will last for an eternity. He was talking about those ten years of his new life, as well as of old school one, – the way he understood and felt it for now. That conversation lasted and lasted – he was speaking, and she was carefully and attentively listening to. Beloved school teacher.

And the time to leave came once – to return back to his institute in a different city. The last farewell waving of hand – and in a way. In a way.

***

Knocking of iron wheels. The measured rocking of the train's apartment. A whistle of wind through a slightly opened window. Sleepy passengers. Somebody's fluffy cat, making his impressive strolling through a salon.

"Barsik," he called. "Come here."

But the cat only slowly raised a tail, turned his body and started moving in the opposite direction. A funny being.

Now he was returning to the town when he has graduated from the institute and has been working. A next stop... a methodical voice of the driver... entering and leaving passengers. A face – this familiar face... one of his school friend. The man was wandering directly towards him – with some sort of unseeing glance, he was scouting the surroundings... A tired face of emaciated man. Here's the man sat down nearby and hasn't recognized him at all – yet they have studied together for such a while! Studied at one school...

"Ivan," he called. "Ivan, hi. Didn't you recognize me? No? I'm Pavel. We have studied in one class! Have you truly forgotten?"

"Pavel... Oh, yes... hi. Hi," repeated Ivan and looked away to face the window.