Summer. Day. Butterfly. Stories. Eduard Dia Dinikin

      ISBN 978-5-4498-8371-1

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Summer. Day. Butterfly

      It happened when I was seven years old. For some unknown reason, I was alone in the cemetery – my parents were far away. Actually, I had never liked to walk in such special places, looking at flowers, photos, dates, and other nonsense. But something brought me there that day. Maybe it was a white butterfly which I tried to catch unsuccessfully…

      There was quiet, deserted and cool despite the summer heat. I felt happy as always when I was alone – no one taught me how to live and what to do. No restrictions, no permits, no guilt, no regrets. The butterfly whirled carefree in the air, pulling me further and further. I wasn’t a collector – I wanted it just for fun. And in that moment when I was ready to grab my prey, I heard a strange noise on the left, a rustle of some kind.

      I looked down and froze with the horror – there was a big man with a naked torso who had half climbed out of a grave. He was dark gray – I saw it clearly, it wasn’t a nightmare. And the contrast of his unnatural color with the outside vivid world terrified me more else. Despite the stable position, the body of the dark gray man was very tense – obviously, it took a lot of effort for him to struggle his way out from the underground…

      Of course, for a seven-year-old boy, it was too much. So, if I wasn’t seven but seventy-seven then I would die from the surprise. Anyway, my emotions from the meeting with the living dead are unforgettable: fear covered me like a huge cold wave, an internal shiver swept through my body, the ice clenched my throat so I couldn’t even breathe much less to scream.

      The dark gray man was stuck and his struggling arms rested on the ground as if some mighty force prevented him from completely freeing himself. He looked forward ominously as he searched something or…somebody. A sudden thought pierced my mind – he scanned me! May be, to return to this world, he had to leave a replacement in the grave – a sacrifice who would atone for his sins!

      Time had stopped. I understood this was the end. No one could help me to survive. There was nothing except death and me. My short life as a kaleidoscope picture crumbled into many colored pieces before me – only a small white spot flashed in front of my bleary eyes…

      And in that moment when I had almost lost consciousness the white spot whirling carefree in the air, finally fell down on the face of the dark gray man. He didn’t even move to brush the butterfly away.

      And then I realized at once that the man was not the living dead.

      Actually, it wasn’t a human at all but a big piece of dark gray marble. Someone “smart” made the original decision to install a half-body human figure monument on the grave. And the strange noise that I heard was merely an ordinary mouse’s rustle. That’s it.

      I turned my head up to the sky, took a deep breath, felt the blood running through my veins again, and understood that time is the same illusion as our fears. Since the whole event seemed like an eternity for me but really it took the same amount of seconds as it takes to read these words: summer, day, butterfly.

      Infinity of parks

      A flock of sparrows, disturbed by the couple, rose from the ground like an alerted helicopter squadron. The young lady had observed the man sitting on the bench five meters from her. He had something like a black brick in his hands. Or was it a book?

      It was not the wish to know that drove her from her seat. The reason was that she saw Archangel Gabriel in the guise of a pigeon descended next to the man. She made sure it was the Archangel when she read the title of the book – New Testament.

      She thought it was the New Testament with the long comments because the four canonical gospels wouldn’t inflate the pulp so much.

      The man with the New Testament almost didn’t pay attention to the young lady despite her attractiveness. Meanwhile, she opened her bag searching for something and finally took out the knitting needles and yarn. Then, as she used to do it every day, she continued to knit a scarf. Pink scarf, he noticed it. The same color as the dress Mashenka wore that day…

      He felt cold, his heart raced, everything went dark. He took the pills out of his pocket and hastily swallowed one. Breathing deeply, he tried to pull himself together, to remember everything Father Nikon had said to him. He couldn’t do it well. He stared at the young lady with the pink scarf. Mashenka would grow up and become so beautiful. She would… if she hadn’t died in such a terrible way. The death he hadn’t accepted all these years.

      Well, only Christ reconciles us with death. His followers tamed death and let it into their caves like the defeated beast. Thanks to Christ, death gained the spirit of childhood and the coffin turned into a cradle. The end of the world comes; our feelings go out; we close our eyes and if we deserve we wake up in the house of our Heavenly Father. The priests say so. They also say we must forgive our enemies.

      But there is another, real death, the torment of which we must endure without closing our eyes here on earth, which keeps its vivid colors and continues to revolve around the sun despite the death of those we love.

      It was a wonderful summer morning: the park was full of sunlight; the birds chirped cheerfully; the air was filled with the smell of lilac. “Maybe the same in paradise,” thought Gennady Vladimirovich.

      “Let’s go, Alexey.” he told the approaching big guy and took one last look at the young lady: she smiled at him and broke a thread.

      She knew this tall, white-haired man always came to the Lilac alley of the park. He looked about fifty years old, his expression showed deep intelligence and self-confidence. He was dressed commonly but with good taste. The only sign of luxury was his expensive watches which she casually saw when he checked the time. He always came here in the morning, sat on the bench and looked of the alley as if he was searching or waiting for someone…

      Gennady Vladimirovich and Alexey went to the car. Alexey noticed the excitement of his boss. It seemed something happened and Alexey tried to guess who this young lady was.

      His boss once told him that before marriage he used to pick up women. As he was handsome and full of energy they actually didn’t resist. He preferred sexual freedom despite the strict Soviet moral order and the specifics of his work in the Secret Department.

      But this chaotic life finished when Gennady Vladimirovich met Ludmila – the beautiful blonde with good soul and big blue eyes, the look of which lit love in his heart. And after the birth of Mashenka it became completely impossible for him even to think about other women.

      He believed that in case of adultery he would not only betray his wife but also somehow harm his daughter. And even imaginary adultery would transform into something physically unpleasant like a rash on the body. Moreover, on the body of Mashenka.

      Now all this stayed in the past. Forever.

      The distance from the park to the house of Gennady Vladimirovich was short. He had bought this building two years ago. It was a food storage before the revolution. Then Bolsheviks used it for completely different purposes.

      Gennady Vladimirovich had bought and renovated this already dilapidated building because

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