Monday, 28 September 2009

Nika is Flying to Mars (part 2)

<--- Part 1 Part 3 ------>

At 7 am she woke up again. It was still early for breakfast. She couldn't fall asleep from all the excitement of being in the same city with him - with James Summers and the Band. It was almost as if she could feel their energy.

Nika went quietly to the bathroom, dressed up and sneaked silently from the hotel room. She wanted to walk in the streets of Tokyo city that looked like a perfect dream.

Needless to say that she met the Band - for her dreams magically tend to come true.

And needless to say that he didn't talk to her - he probably didn't even see her when getting inside the black taxi. He didn't see her smile or hear her voice. It was almost as if she didn't exist.

"That's quite fair. How could I forget that while we could be physically in the same place on Earth - we will never be in the same universe. You are from a different social circle that I can never be a part of. I am from another country, I speak another language, I trust another God, I am from another background and have nothing to do with music. I am from a family of scientist geeks."

Exhausted, she returned to the hotel room. She was so tired and felt like she can burst into tears any moment now. So she said that she's not hungry and not going for breakfast. They left her in the hotel room and went for the breakfast and lunar conference.

Nika didn't want to hear words right now. "Please, not those stupid talks on physics or politics at breakfast - I can't stand it now - I never could." She wanted to be lost in music as she usually did when listening to the Band. But it would be too painful to hear James Summer's voice right now. The only other song she had on ipod was Tosca. That was her father's favourite opera. She remembers him dancing with her, trying to whistle the melody.

"Why was he so sad? Maybe he knew he was going to die soon." Nika didn't think about her father a lot. And she almost never talked about him. He, a Soviet astronaut Nikolai Kurganov, died when she was only four and her mother almost immediately remarried. So in a way she had a father, but he was boring - a lecturer on physics and astronomy. She never understood him, but he was a good father. Not dad, just father. Her real dad was really brave and enthusiastic, fearless, strong and talented. He could draw as good as those artists in the pedestrian streets of Arbat. He could sing so people would get silent and thoughtful. And he could whistle Tosca.

"You left me alone in the family of cold-hearted boring scientists where the only music heard is the intro to the evening news", - Nika was now lying in a bathtub full of cold water. She was still wearing clothes - jeans and sweater, she didn't even take her high-heels snickers off.

"You left me with a passion for art and no way to express it - I can't draw, write, sing or play musical instruments, no one taught me and no one would in this family."

Final sounds of Tosca made her cry, she was sobbing quietly for the things she lost and the things she would never have: "No one loves me here, and no one will".

Red string of blood and a silver blade of Swiss knife - "such a beauty" - she thought. "It's such a beauty."

And she fell asleep in red water, with eyes full of tears not only for her father's life, bravery and youth - but for her own."

3 comments:

  1. I'm anxious for the final part.

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  2. great! thanks, I'm working on it actually right now :)

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  3. uff, i'm so glad that's not the end of the story

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