I arrived, obediently paid for everything that could be pulled by the ears for the upcoming procedure, and entered the Surgeon’s office. He turned out to be a strong old man of the old school. I was asked to undress, go into the operating room and lie on my stomach. The nurse rattled their instruments. At that fateful moment, I uttered one of my signature phrases,
«Not Novocain.»
The nurse smiled enigmatically and called out to the Surgeon, who was still in the office, and not in the operating room,
«Have you heard it, Ivan Ivanovich? The girl is intolerant to Novocaine!»
«Yes, I have!» the Surgeon said joyfully.
They silently bent over my back, rubbed it with something, and… I screamed in terrible pain, feeling them cutting me alive with a scalpel. The scalpel froze.
«Without anesthesia?» I was in shock.
«Well, you can’t stand Novocain, and we don’t have anything else!» the Surgeon commented and made another incision.
I screamed again. The scalpel froze.
«Well, the last time now,» the Surgeon sang as calmly as if nothing had happened.
My third cry made a doctor with very huge eyes materialize in the operating room from the next office.
«What are you doing here? Even my patient has already escaped!»
«We’ve already done it,» the nurse answered, smiling.
Leaving, I silently but meaningfully looked at the Surgeon, and he replied me just as meaningfully,
«And during the war?»
I realized him playing war.
However, I was lucky to know other doctors whom I respected. They fist listen carefully, then think and tell you what they have come up with, voicing the pros and cons, and if you agree…
That evening I went to visit a very smart and cheerful woman, a guru in her field, who, having read my spells six months before, said that I was practicing real Word Magic, and she was sorry to be too old to experience similar emotions.
That time I couldn’t believe my eyes – the doctor looked at least ten years younger!
«Hello, Spell-caster!» she exclaimed joyfully. «You won’t believe it! I met Him! Twenty years later! Imagine, all these years I knew nothing about Him! It turns out that He lives over the Ocean. He came here to give a lecture, slipped, fell, woke up in a cast, ended up at my friend in the hospital, and I stopped by her because of some nonsense! Now I write your spells to Him in text messages. Haven’t you met your Prince yet?»
«Maybe I have, but… He doesn’t think so,» I sighed.
«It seems to me, just don’t be offended, there is no person to understand and contain you inside. Our men today are quite dead, weak, lazy. They’ll burst from you! They feel that you are stronger and a head taller, and bypass you a mile away.»
«Illusion! I am the weakest woman in the world.»
«Humble yourself, dear! To write the way you do, one has to be hurt constantly. Over time, you get used to the pain, the threshold of sensitivity decreases, so they will send you another pain, stronger than the previous one, so that you write again. Don’t expect anything good ahead. Better get ready for the trials you have never seen even in your nightmares.»
I came to the Teacher, who had been once an ordinary doctor, and then became a real White Magician.
«I see, I see what’s happening to you,» he said, smiling. «What does he look like? How old is he? Who is he?»
«I don’t know anything about Him. I remember nothing,» I whispered.
«Still, try to remember. Imagine the place where you first met.»
I looked at the white wall opposite and tried to concentrate. Suddenly the air began to acquire color and density, just a little more and I would have felt it with my hands. It vibrated and began to move in space. The room floated. I got into a spiral. The walls, unlike the air, lost their density, became foggy, dissolving into Another Reality. It seemed that either I would move in that place, or that place would move to me.
«No, I can’t,» I breathed out from overexertion.
«You can everything!»
I tried to concentrate again, but that time I just saw two shadows on the wall, like waves, running towards each other, turning into a single whole, disappearing and reappearing on the opposite sides.
«Seven seconds!» the Teacher exclaimed in surprise.
I looked at him with a silent question.
«You merge together in seven seconds. Your energy, I mean. You are very similar. You’ll see Him again. And more than once.»
2. Скорость
Многие люди на Земле почему-то любят спирт под хорошую закуску. Я люблю скорость под хорошую музыку, но без спирта.
Мне снился сон. В ночь с четверга на пятницу, когда все сны имеют обыкновение сбываться. У тех, кто верит, что они сбываются, именно приснившись тебе с четверга на пятницу. У остальных же сбываются те сны, которые должны сбыться. Независимо от дня недели.
Я прихожу к подруге. Всё в тумане, я с трудом различаю её очертания, как и обстановку квартиры, в которой ещё не успела побывать в Земной Реальности, потому что подруга совсем недавно переехала. Мы молчим, но как-то трагично молчим. Потом она спрашивает, что же всё-таки произошло. Во сне я знаю: что-то очень плохое, о чём совсем не хочется вспоминать. И я отмахиваюсь, не хочу говорить, а слёзы сами на глаза наворачиваются… Я оказываюсь в гостях у друга-одноклассника. Сюжет повторяется. Мы грустно молчим. Он осторожно начинает спрашивать: как это случилось, почему? Мне больно. Я отказываюсь вспоминать. И начинаю плакать. Зачем они мучают меня своими расспросами, когда говорить об этом я не в состоянии?.. Я прихожу к кому-то ещё. Не знаю, к кому. Всё то же.