Travel to the Soviet Union. A mystical novel. Svetlana Mirrai

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Travel to the Soviet Union

      A mystical novel

      Svetlana Mirrai

      © Svetlana Mirrai, 2022

      ISBN 978-5-0056-4312-4

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Chapter 1

      Back to the past

      The weather in August was hot, and the summer was stuffy, without rain. And I can hardly stand this heat, I try to sit closer to the water. So we decided with my older brother today, to go to the river to swim, and if possible, then catch a fish, fishermen say that there are big breams here.

      – Well, hello, Chertanovka River! I said happily and raised my hands in the air.

      – You’re happy early, it’s going to rain today, I looked at the weather on the Internet in the morning, and then you see the rain for the whole summer and it will recoup. I’m not going to get wet here,» Artyom replied, taking off his jeans.

      – Oh, the Soviet-era nerd,» I said.

      Sometimes I like to annoy my older brother, let him ask less. And then he always tells me that everything was real there: childhood, food, things. He means real, but what does it turn out for me?

      – Yes, what do you even know about the Soviet Union? my brother asked me and smiled maliciously.

      – Well, what kind of country is so incomprehensible, the Soviet Union? Show me where it is on the map? – I said and went into the river up to my waist.

      A gray-haired old man with a fishing rod was passing not far from us, and it even seemed to me that he had a halo glowing above his head.

      «It seemed and it seemed, so the sun probably baked my head that devils with mermaids will soon begin to imagine,» I thought.

      The old man stopped in front of me and does not take his eyes off me. I pretended not to notice him. And he says:

      – And what, young man, do you really want to see the Soviet Union?

      «Of course,» I said, and I didn’t even understand why I told him that.

      The old man took off his hat from his head waved it in front of him like a fan and said:

      – Well, be it your way, Egor, when you dive into the water with your head, then you will see everything, and when you come up, you will tell everything about everything yourself.

      – Here you give an old man, and how do you know my name? I asked in surprise.

      And the old man was gone. I turned around in different directions, he is nowhere, as if he had never been.

      «Maybe I really overheated in the sun, I should dive into the river now,» I thought.

      – Who were you talking to just now? my brother asked me, wading through the water closer and closer to me.

      – The old man came up to me just now, and did you see him?

      – No, I was talking on the phone, I was very tired of work, they call and call, this Mikhail Grigoryevich is not on time yet with his conversations, he says…

      – Now, wait, tell me when I come up, otherwise my head is very hot, – I said to my brother and dived under the water.

      Under the water I swam away from the place where Artem was standing, when I surfaced, for some reason he was not there. And not far from me, two teenagers were splashing.

      I looked in one direction, in the other, at the shore, Artyom is nowhere. Did he really go home? And also a brother is called. He said something about Mikhail Grigoryevich, maybe it’s all somehow connected with him. I did a few more laps on the river, and decided to talk to the boys.

      – Boys, tell me, what is the nearest settlement here, otherwise I’m left without a car?

      – We are from the former village of Chertanovo, it will be a couple of kilometers from the river.

      – And why the ex?

      – So it is now considered Moscow, three years ago the Chertanovskaya metro station was opened. «Secretary General Chernenko himself was also present at the opening,» the blond kid said cheerfully.

      – What are you saying, man? Metro Chertanovskoe, so it’s been open for a hundred years.

      The boys looked at each other, laughed, but said nothing more.

      – Come on, – I waved my hand at them and went ashore.

      I looked around, there was no car and no clothes. «Damn, and the things where mine are, it looks like they were left in the car, and Artem drove off in it. Well, he’s going to get it from me now. I also found a joker, how many years old is he, already under fifty, and everything is like a boy playing games»

      Without hesitating for a long time, I grabbed someone else’s shorts and shirt and disappeared behind the bushes. There I quickly got dressed, oddly enough, the clothes fit.

      When I got out of the bushes, I immediately went across the field, walked for a long time for two hours, then I found myself in the city, then took a bus and drove to the subway.

      About an hour passed, and I got out of the subway, slowly walked home, realizing with every step that the city had completely changed. Soon I got to the place where the house in which my wife and I took an apartment on a mortgage should stand, but instead there was a kiosk with the inscription «Union Seal» and soda machines lined up next to it.

      – Yes, how to understand all this? – from the horror of what I saw, I said these words out loud, and decided to approach the newspaper seller, find out everything definitively.

      – Hello, – I said, through the open window of the kiosk.

      The woman sat and did not move, like a statue, she lowered her eyes and knitted something long, pink, like a scarf.

      – Madam, – I say, – could you pay attention to me.

      – Young man, shame on you, you’re a Komsomol member. What kind of madam am I to you?

      Now I was absolutely sure that I was either hallucinating or I was in the real past. And to confirm my thoughts, I said:

      – Sorry, auntie, the guys and I played so much today that I started talking. Could you sell me a newspaper?

      – Smart boy, I look at the newspapers, you read. «Which one to submit?» – the seller said in a warm voice.

      – And the one with the medals, – and pointed to the newspaper with his finger.

      – Komsomolskaya Pravda is called, it costs three kopecks.

      – Can I take a closer look at it, and then take it? I asked plaintively.

      – Take a look at this,» and she handed me the newspaper.

      I immediately looked at the date, it said June 14, 1988.

      «I can’t

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