A violinist died in a god

Daria Sokolkina

A violinist died in a god

My name is Alexander Kamnev. I gratuared from university and I don't know where to go next. My mother got lucky with her son. After that, she got me.

One spring night I

My mother makes a good living despite the event. Every evening I see a bottle of semi-sweet or two among our food but I can't blame her. To lose a child is a heavy weight. I understand that drinking your sorrow away is a natural process.

All I knew about Kesha is that he once went through an appendicitis surgery and he obtained a scar on this stomach. My mom loved telling me about this while in a good mood caused by alcohol.

One morning I woke up again just like I did before. My mother's voice woke me up; she found something.

-

This summer morning that came to our small town, the sun hurried to appear in the sky, sharing its free warmth for another time, just like a caring mother would. A round-faced beautiful lady who got married to the soil without any regrets – some sentimental poet could say so about the star if they walked upon this dusty path without any shadows.

– Sasha, get up! It's two in the afternoon! – A voice resonated in a tight apartment.

There were a few empty bottles under Czech names next to my bed. Upon the bottles there lied my dark-brown hair, looking like willow leaves; I took my time disobeying the voice that could be heard from the hallway.

I opened my eyes and got up.

– What's up mom?

– Sasha, come and see, I found this thing in the closet! – She yelled, laughing. – It seems your brother left it.

I came to the closet shelf and took a mysterious case into my hands, got to the living room, put the case onto the table, unzipped it and lifted the cap.

It's not a guitar I used to have fun with. The instrument looked majestic and it seemed to me it looked below itself where I was. Its shiny body glowed in the light.

– And what shall I do with it? – I looked at my mom.

– What-what. – My mother scratched her teeth. – Sell this useless thing.

Suddenly I got a spark in my soul.

– Mom, I can become a virtuoso just like Kesha was! We have this music school down the road, I can go there.

– What things can come to your mind… You could sell it, and buy your mother a crate of wine. – My mother sighed and waved her arm. – Alright, you can go there, – she almost sang and disappeared in the hallway.

It's been a while since I got thrilled like this. I hurried to dress up, zipped the case, combed my hair and ran off to the street.

Going through the streets, I was being eaten by doubts. What is this mysterious good future chance going to give me? Would I be able to get steady in life like my beloved brother? What is hiding in the music school? I had yet to find it all out.

Shortly after my thoughts I reached my destination. I opened a heavy door, came inside and got surprised by high pre-revolutionary ceilings. Then I paid my attention to the walls and it wasn't in vain – the walls had portraits of the great ones on them, looking down at anyone who had courage to walk under them, just like they were supposed to. I completely forgot about the door and let it go so it slammed itself, hitting the case. Right after that I heard a gentle high-pitched voice:

– Careful! You need to be careful with such things.

I looked around and saw a God dandelion. Like a priestess, she walked in my direction, but in her age she could only be an old lady who weeps at someone's funeral. She looked behind my back as if she was looking for something.

– Good afternoon! Who are you going to give us? Where are the kids?

– Hello… – I was taken aback. – I don't have children…

The woman looked at the floor awkwardly, then she got back her smile.

– Do you want to do it yourself? – She shrugged her shoulders. – Well, it isn't bad, it's never too late.

I realized how much of an idiot I was. Children come here! The moment is wasted, and now I can only cheer up my dear mother by exchanging the cursed case with its content for booze.

The old lady continued, not knowing about my sorrows:

– It's great that you came here today. We're taking new students, you can sign up for the next academic year. Follow me, I'll check your hearing.

I got led into one of the countless rooms across the hallway that had a sweet smell. We walked through a small hall where all the performances took their place. What an honor it is, I thought, to play the instruments among proud parents. I wanted to throw up just from the thought of it.

I had the time to notice how nice and free I felt in a room where I ended my path. A ready piano, a lot of cases similar to mine, the sun looking into the windows with curiosity, appearing and disappearing.

I got taken back to reality by a low note and the priestess's voice – the lady opened the piano and pressed its keys separately, singing the notes at the same time. I heard at kindergarten that there were seven notes, and I knew them. Trying to copy the woman, I sang through the nose on high notes and almost lost my voice on low ones. With a still heart, I waited for her conclusion.

– Well, not bad, you have an ear for music.

You could say that again.

– We have one of our best students here. He came back to our town to be a teacher. He must come here soon. – She led me back to the entrance.

Suddenly, the door opened. The one that came in was quick as a lightning and interrupted the shrine's peace and quiet.

At that moment I thought that gifted people really were gifted but their sanity was taken from them. Some people were unlucky like me, and they were without both the gift and the sanity. But that thing that stood before me blossomed and got its rot at the same time. If I saw it in the backstreets at night, I wouldn't be able to tell right away that it was a human being.

Yellow faded hair, a knitted vest in the middle of summer, a big shirt that clearly wasn't the right size, dark pants, not zipped completely, extremely shiny blunt toe shoes. Its hands were fettered by shaking. I tried to look closer but the creature hid them behind its back when I did.

I felt sorry for it.

– Hello. – The creature showed friendliness. – Who is yet to be educated? – It repeated after the old lady.

I swallowed nervously. As it seemed to me, it sensed my fear.

– Then it comes to be that you came to study by yourself. Not bad. – The creature smirked. – Big hopes don't always end well, – it breathed under its nose.

Finally I learned who it was:

– Iosif Seraphimovich Padnogurov. – Still, he kept his hands behind his back. – Has your musical ear already been discovered? – Iosif threw a glance at the old one, she nodded humbly. – Marvellous. Sign up, come in September. I'll be in the first class upstairs. Tamara Ibragimovna, – he turned his back again, – you and I are very lucky. – Iosif laughed viciously, but this triumph didn't last. He choked and went upstairs as he promised. I saw tension in his face. I didn't have a chance to look at his palms – he hid them in his pockets.

A teacher for such a fine instrument, but with shaky hands? This thing alone seemed strange to me. Mysteries and no answers from the very first meeting. With a swarm of thoughts crawling onto one another I headed home, trying not to forget about traffic lights.