Do Live Instead of Me. Katia Sapieva

penetratedthrough a window glass and jumping drew a mosaic picture. Their brightnessirritated Sergey and he stretched his hand to put on electric light. In spiteof a sunny morning, it was dark in the room for some reason although there weretwo windows there and the shed with a porch was from another side. Besides, thewindows of the room faced the cemetery, the very part of it where the firstburials were located. This a little bit picturesque site also allowed him towatch whether outsiders approached the gate. All the details were well designedand therefore, it seemed that the watch did not need any viewing point.

      The TV was silentlyshowing pictures of the morning talk show. “Strange it is, – Sergey thought. —when I put it on yesterday there was a sound but at the moment of that queerbird’s visit it disappeared. I didn’t even notice”. He had no wish to puzzleover it specially and besides, it was clear that the TV was also in fact aparticipant of all those mystic events and was still afraid.

      Sergey went out to theporch of the house and looked at the graves. Seeing that nothing changed sincethe day before he calmed a little. He remained standing about a minute and thenwent to the grave of his yesterday’s guest.

      The grass was justbeginning to grow on the soldier’s grave and the land had not yet become dryafter the night. Everything was quiet. There were no visitors so early.

      Sergey stood there alittle a scrolled yesterday’s talk through his mind. Many things remainedincomprehensible to him. The more he thought about it the more questionsappeared. Though he did not wish to get mixed up in an unpleasant affair, stillthe details rouse his interest. It is always easier to solve a problem as anoutside observer then ask for trouble for oneself. However, Sergey did not yetknow that solving to problem he would have to unravel a tangle of sufferingpeople’s fates.

      The sun appearedthrough the surface of dry land in some strange manner. It seemed to the watchhe saw a thin branch that accidentally fell down from a tree. But there was nowind and the branch could hardly fall down. He bent down to take it away andstiffened. The thin branch turned out to be a chain from a yellowish stringwith an Orthodox cross on it.

      “Wow! – Sergey was amazedby his finding. – Where could the cross appear from?”.

      Neither such a chainhad been there before nor could it be planted. Firstly, hooligans or informalyouth were lot let here to avoid any games or committing rites comprehensibleonly to themselves. Secondly, why would visitors who do not wear such crossesplant one here? The sixth sense told Sergey to take the odd finding with him.

      Three days later it wasSerezha’s shift again. The cross remained in a pocket of his trousers, he didnot wish to take it home. Besides, where would he hide his finding? The flatwas no store, his mother could find it all the same during a clear out. It wasa risk. The garage was neither the proper place for it was often visited by hisbrother. Going back home after work he forgot about it at all.

      Going back to workagain Serezha was eagerly waiting for the evening. He was quite sure that theguest would visit him. He did have reasons to wait for the remaining questionsgive him no rest. The chain with many unknown and one known quantity was tooirrational and this known one was that real ghost.

      On making a round ofthe territory and cleaning some graves Serezha returned to his house. However, no one hurried to visit him in the evening. He put on the electric tea kettle, then the TV and flopped down on the sofa.

      The sofa and the TVremained still from the Soviet period. It was impossible to rest on anythingsoft or see a coloured film but in spite of these not too comfortableconditions, the house was quite fit for living.

      After having tea andwatching the TV for a while Sergey fell asleep. He dreamt about somesettlements different from the place where he lived. The roofs of the houseswere evidently covered with another material. Little by little Sergey realizedthat they were the settlements were he once was at military service. Howeverthis time instead of a uniform he was wearing a cloak, dark trousers, shoes anda striped shirt. He was going to visit somebody. Who was it? He did not knowbut had a strong feeling that somebody was already waiting for him at the placehe started for. Who was waiting? Sergey never knew.

      He was walking along awide street meeting people sometimes. It seemed local residents did not noticehim, everyone was busy with one’s own thoughts and everyone was walkingsomewhere purposefully but without a hurry. Sergey passed by one low fenceafter another. Houses are nor screened off behind the gates three kilometerstall in the settlements as they are in Rublevo-Uspenskoye highway or somewherein Barvikha. They do dot lock the gates here. The life of every house andcourtyard is plain and clear. If there is a wedding or funeral in a house thegates are opened wide, so that any comer could enter.