Wind in the Hands (27 page)

Read Wind in the Hands Online

Authors: Rami Yudovin

BOOK: Wind in the Hands
13.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I wonder where you are. How will the servants of God take your doubtful company?”

“People consolidate in front of common disaster.”

“What disaster? What are you talking about? All disasters come from people, or you mean a natural disaster?”

“The wave will cover everybody, do not stay on the shore at this moment,” the Stranger explained.

“So, what if a righteous servant of God is also on the shore at the moment, then the wave will not cover the beach, won’t it?”

“Maybe, but the righteous people know what will happen, and alert the others. All the same, who listens to them? After all, both now and always, the righteous were wandering about deserts and hills, caves and chasms, suffering from scorching sun and heavy downpour, instead of sitting under the tent on the beach sipping a shake and staring at girls in bikini.”

“Do you know at least one righteous man?”

“The Hermit. To tell the truth, I do not encourage monkhood. A lamp should not be covered with an opaque cap, it is also must not be lit up under the bed. After all, it is designed to give light to much everyone’s delight. When not exposed to ordeal, one cannot define whether he is righteous. Human essence can be revealed only in emergency. In the desert, dangerous situations are more than enough, but we cannot choose between bad and the worst-case scenario, so, it is not what I mean exactly. Everyone has a weak point. And everyone can be thrown dirt at. The most important thing is to get out clean, realize the weak point, and never fall down any more. We gave a chance to the Bird, time will tell whether she makes use of it or not.”

“Did you fall down often?” the Soldier recollected his dossier.

“Things happened, but I fell into more often.”

“Got into a mess?”

“To the point.”

“So, what is reserved for us?”

“Don’t know. To my certain knowledge, everything will pan out differently from what we figure. It is possible to see the future, but this is just a reflection of some or other deeds, thoughts and dreams of ours. As for me, I am interested in making choice, the right choice.”

The Medium was standing on the balcony. Hardly had she seen the familiar images when she ran out towards them, gave a nod to the Soldier and embraced the Stranger.

“Pleased to see you.”

“May I have a wash and rest a little?”

“Sure, but the bath is occupied by the girl the Seer has brought. The bath is rather large though, there’s room for both,” the Medium looked at him crafty.

“I will wait.”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. The Seer was standing by the open window smoking.

“Anything’s happened?” the Stranger asked.

“Disaster hovers over the City. This place has reached rock bottom. A single sparkle will make everything flame up,” the Seer said under his breath.

“It is not too late to leave the City, or, even, the country. Take our friends and leave,” the Stranger suggested.

“I will not go,” the Soldier said firmly. “I am with you. And now to the end.”

“Let’s clear up the situation to decide on whether to go or not,” the mistress was excited. The Seer’s sinister pale face inspired her with fear.

“He would stay even if he foreknew that he would be killed. This man does not decide for himself. The only thing you right on is that we must get ready,” the Seer said.

“You had better go, indeed. I can show you something to make you see that the place is getting too hot to stay here. You have helped me to reach the City, but now you must run away!”

“Later. Rest a little. You have a headache.”

The Stranger smiled.

The Seer came up to him and touched the aching point.

“No. The problem is not here…” he put his palm to the Stranger’s neck. “Lie on you back.”

The Stranger lied obediently. The Seer put one hand on the top of the head, the other to the chin. The Soldier toughened (with such a movement neck bones can be broken easily) and moved towards the Seer in a threatening way, but the latter just curled lips.

“Relax the head. Exhale!” the Seer shouted simultaneously pressing the head and chin, and gave a sudden twiddle to the side, then to the other way round. A loud click was heard.

“The block is removed. Get up slowly, then sit for a minute, and go to the bathroom. It is vacant now,” the Seer pointed at the staircase to the second floor.

“Thank you. It became easier now,” the Stranger thanked, made a few steps, and wavered. The Soldier ran up to him to look into his eyes.

“I am all right,” the Stranger gave him a wink while walking upstairs.

The Bird dressed in a snow-white bathrobe hung on his neck raining kisses upon him. He embraced her continently.

“Ask a towel for me.”

He went to the bathroom and opened the tap. Water was relieving nervous stress. In the meanwhile, the Bird found the mistress.

“Okay. I’ll bring him the bathrobe,” the Medium responded.

“I’ll bring it myself,” the Bird was persistent. The Medium peered into the girl’s face.

“A poor thing, she fell in love with him.”

“They passed the Tunnel of death together,” the Seer interfered, angered. “Give her what she asked.”

Chapter 41. A sense of trouble

The Hermit was looking for a narrow paved street with lanterns. He was walking sprightly, peering with curiosity into the people passing by, examining the sides of houses, shop windows, billboards and curses on the fences:

“Woe and suffering to the City of blood.” A bustle was distracting the Hermit, though his heart was deceitfully pinching when he treaded along the places familiar to him since childhood. Exhausted, the man sat down onto the steps leading to the ruins of the ancient palace, somewhere two thousand years ago glaring with gorgeous ornamentation.

The City is dishallowed, faces of the bypasses wearing the print of fatality. The Hermit examined the ruined place, and some visions flashed before his eyes: the City overcast, clouds getting bloodshot. His body was shuddered with apprehension. Suddenly, the Hermit sprang to his feet; it seemed to him that he forgot what the fear is. His heart was beating desperately. “They begin to appear, it will be easy to see them soon, and nobody can resist them, they are intruding on consciousness to capture the minds. God, have mercy!” the Hermit pleaded. “Give me piece, I am begging You! Is it possible that I will not get protection? You are everything for me.” The Hermit looked up to the sky: “Father of the Sky and the Earth, tell me, what I need to do? How to act? Give me the answer.” Unexpectedly, he could hear unmistakably clear: He who came from outside cannot be a helping hand to one who is inside. Find the friend.

The Hermit was trying to make sense of the phrase heard: “I must find a man from my vision. I am here because of him. Did the Stranger get the reason for his striving here? The City cannot be helped out, and the Stranger cannot help it, either. The great turned against this place. Justly, they have a right. They came to cleanse the City of wickedness. Only he who went through the gate of horror and death is the only one who can rescue people from the on-coming horror and death. Whether does the man from the vision look like the Prince? I could not see his face, and I know that he is young, but great, great… I need to find the Stranger to tell him everything.”

The old man began slowly moving the palm sideways, felt a slight tingle in the fingers: that meant that the direction was right. Invisible needles were sticking worse, so he was approaching the target. Sometimes, having lost the sense, he had to stop, return back, and seek again; he found and rushed forward, over hedge and ditch.

The Stranger was lying in the bath, dreaming. The door opened softly, the Bird came in, put the underwear and towel on the marble stool.

“Thank you,” he muttered, with his eyes closed. The girl took off the bathrobe, walked up the steps to the bath, and sat down besides looking at him hot-eyed. Her stare effused desire, her lips slightly swelled, nude plastic body trembling.

“I love you and want you very much,” she whispered.

“It is not time to love,” the Stranger said guiltily. “Sorry.”

She came nearer to kiss him on the lips. The wave of desire overwhelmed him. His heart leapt furiously, fire seized him, but he recovered himself, grasped the girl by the shoulders and brushed her aside.

The girl rose slowly and graciously, tossed on the bathrobe and went out, softly closing the door. Smiled. The Stranger snorted out and burst laughing. Dried hurriedly with the towel, got dressed and took the stairs down to the parlor to join his mates. There, he drank some tea, snatched dry fruit and nuts, and asked for a bed. The Medium took him to the bedroom.

Concentrated, the Seer was looking out of the window, drinking coffee and smoking almost all the time.

“You smoke like a chimney,” the Medium noticed. “Have some pity for yourself.”

“I will not die of cancer of lungs, and I am safe from heart attack,” the Seer responded with slight irritation.

She lifted her hands in dismay.

“Why are you so nervous? You believe disaster is in store for the City?” the Medium asked.

“I do not know yet, what is in store for the City. I cannot get my questions answered.”

“A wrong question?”

“Maybe. But why do not I ask the right one? This is another question,” it was as if the Seer was talking to himself.

“Fear? Are you afraid?”

The Seer smiled ironically.

“Look into your magic ball to see a horror film.”

He scorned any magic expedients.

“Stop arguing. The Stranger will rest and tell you. He seems to know many things,” the Soldier broke upon.

“The Stranger does not confide us. Not one of us,” the Seer said.

“Why?” the Soldier asked.

“He hides his thoughts, overlaps others,” the Seer answered gloomily.

“He rightly does. To read somebody’s thoughts is mauvais ton,” the Medium was growing impatient.

“Stop it!” the Seer raised his voice. “You have no idea of what is happening. The Stranger also knows little. Really, want to know? Well, then. The City is on the verge of annihilation. I saw corpses in the streets and houses; they have no time to bury the dead, so throw them down into the chasm and burn. Who is guilty?”

“The Stranger?” the Medium glared.

“He is just a link in a long chain,” the Seer uttered in an unexpectedly calm tone. “All believers hallowed by the prophets are waiting for disaster for the prophecies come true. They expect calamities so that to add to their strength: something like you were told but you did not listen, so gather the harvest of His rage for your sins. The only thing is that they do not understand that everything will start with them.”

“Why?”

“They are guilty of distortion, moreover, deliberate distortion. The system of destruction, first, will seek for those getting at the Knowledge too closely,” the Seer explained.

“What system?” the Soldier looked at him attentively.

“This is a part of global system of response. The law of cause and effect relationships,” the Seer syllabified.

“How to survive?”

“Run right off, if only weather and circumstances permit,” the Seer looked at his hurt leg.

“Is there anybody to stop the calamity that is to come?” the Medium inquired.

“I know whom you are thinking about. You think about him all the time… He can just accelerate the process.”

“Does it depend on him? Do you really believe that one man is able to influence global processes?”

“Generally, a team is behind the loner. If you cannot see it, this does not mean it does not exist. Calamities were prevented seldom or never, and this was for a while. Owing to requests, preaches, penance, or chosen ones, the mechanism of annihilation would freeze, but if consciousness and lifestyle did not change, it was triggered again, completely and entirely. Crowd will not accept the Stranger. It likes those who point at enemies and promise redemption, who do not hesitate to shed blood of foes and favor friends.”

The Seer lighted another cigarette, but taking a whiff, he ground it out and closed his eyes wearily. The Soldier went to the bathroom, the Medium to the kitchen to cook dinner. The Seer forbade ordering meal in a restaurant. Yet another phobia.

Chapter 42. A Meeting

A meeting of the elders of the desert warriors was held in an ancient catacomb. Many centuries ago, here, saints and martyrs were buried. The commander who guarded the entry to the tunnel was called to the extemporary rostrum.

“Brothers,” he began. “Yesterday morning we encountered a man who attempted to open the mouth of the tunnel. We explained the terms to him. He seemed to us to be a deserving candidate. His name is the Stranger, but he also made it a condition: if he passed the tunnel through, we must accept the Hermit’s way.”

“Go on, brother. The Hermit is a holly man, although he cannot accept active actions against extirpation of injustice.”

“The Stranger was waiting for help, so we allowed him time. His friend came, looked into the tunnel, but took fright and declined blankly to take the test. Later, the Hermit himself appeared, together with a girl. He talked to the Stranger face to face, and then the Stranger and the girl entered the tunnel.”

“A woman came into the tunnel? What a shame!” disturbed voices thrilled.

“I am guilty, brothers,” the narrator kept his head down humbly. “I do not know how the thing happened. It was as if in a fog. I supposed they could not pass the tunnel. Anyway, if the woman agreed to martyrdom for the sake of love, the deed were well deserved, it would be credited for her in the Kingdom come. However, if you believe me guilty, I will not find excuses and receive any punishment, up to interdiction.”

“Calm down, brother. It is not time for punishment,” the chair of the meeting assured him. “We ask to speak the leader of the guard watching over the exit.”

A man of forty mounted the rostrum.

“Brothers,” he started speaking solemnly. “I happened to become a witness of a miracle. I was informed about the candidate who challenged the Providence. We were waiting the brave heart at the exit; he passed the tunnel but could not open the door with coded lock. I did not know the cypher and said digits at random, decided to test him. He did not believe me and set waiting. Then, a miracle happened. I saw a messenger of heaven in sparkling clothes and heard a thunderous voice: ‘Open the door’. I lost strength and fell down. When coming around, I started praying and saw the Stranger. He ordered that I would not take him great or tell about him.”

Other books

Survival Instinct by Kay Glass
Murder on Waverly Place by Victoria Thompson
The Praise Singer by Mary Renault
The Mimosa Tree by Antonella Preto
The Squire's Quest by Gerald Morris