Я пишу обо всем, что волнует и трогает меня. Пытаюсь сделать это с оптимизмом и юмором! Живу как страус – прячу голову в песок, когда кто-то говорит о мраке будущего и о несправедливой политике. Только положительные эмоции и иногда легкая грусть.
I write about everything that excites and touches me. Trying to do it with optimism and humor! I live like an ostrich – hide your head in the sand when someone says something about the gloom of the future and about the unjust policies. Just positive emotions and light sadness sometimes.
Короткий рассказ “THE GORKY PARK STORY ( Moscow-Vladivostok)“
Never haveI found in my life anything of value on the streets. Nowallets, no gold crucifixes, no cell phones. But, quite unexpectedly, I have found an iPad in Gorky Park.
Once upon a time, on asunny summer weekend,I happened to warm with mydaughterson the local beaches in the sun and walk along the promenade of Gorky Park. I was sitting on a bench when I noticed a dark rectangular objectin the corner of it. I reached for itand realized that this was a tablet. Then I saw the label of a bitten apple on the back of the tablet. Happiness! It was the product of the Apple Corporation. Great! Finally, I was lucky to find something worthwhile on the street. Children screamed with joy, jumped with delight, and immediately asked to play. But I didn’t recognize the role of the mistress of this gadget, and children had, as was conceived, to roam around in the clean air…
But, while the kids were running around picturesque ponds with ducks, I turned the tableton and looked at the interface. The first thing that caught my eye were the pictures. I saw the face of a young funny hairy guy of about 25. It seemed to me that the photo was taken right here in Gorky Park, before the tablet was left by the owner, and apparently the tablet belonged to him. I sighed, as I realized that I have to give up my dream and return the iPadto the shaggy guy… Well, why don’t I find some impersonal thing such as a wad of money tied with rubber band or a tablet, but packed, just bought in the store? The thing that has the traces of the previous owneron itself cannot become mine. Never ever!It’s like rummaging through someone else’s underwear, or worse – to break into the house to the three bears like in the old Russian fairy tale and swagger with their food and beds there. No. It’s not in my character. I ought to find the guy from the picture. So the rest of my weekend was dedicated to looking forGregory Levchenko, twenty-five years of age.
Up to that point, I’d never had to deal with iGadgets. Menu was hard. So I still had to dig in Gregory`s underwear before I found the list of his contacts. It was both uncomfortable and painfully curious to peep in the keyhole at the lives of complete strangers, and deep down, I was evenafraid to get shocked.Who knows these youngsters! They are now so bold and so open-minded that sometimes you want to slightly slow down their acceleration… Fortunately, I have not found anydeviations, instead I realized that Gregory arrived in Moscow from Vladivostok a couple of years ago. He works for a consulting company, has a pretty girlfriend, and is very close with his brother, who also lives in Moscow with his wife and a small daughter. Normal, good guy, reads a lot and loves roller-skating. And finally, trashing all the computer filling, I found what I’d been looking for,the list of contacts.
About 100 different names. And among them,there wasn`t Gregory`s number, of course. Logical. Then I tried to search for a contact labeled “mom”, “dad” or “brother”. There was only mom. Well, let’s call his mother.Vladivostok,as far as I can judge by the phone code.As soon as morning came I dialed the phone number. At the first mention of the name of her son mom wasabout to get shocked, but I quickly pulled her out with the words: “He’s fine, he`s just lost his iPad in Gorky Park”. Mom took a minute to process the unexpected informationand finally answered, “Are you calling from Moscow?” “Yes. Exactly so. I`ve takenyour number from his contact list.There wasn`t his own number. I would like to return thetablet to him.” “Thank you very much, indeed. I’ll call to him up now and he will come over forit”. “Yes. Sure. I `llbe waiting…”
Fifteen minutes passed, not more. The mother called me back, “It’s me again. I’m calling to say that I got through and now Gregory will call you back”. “Okay.” I responded andconsidering the topic exhausted, about to hang up, I heard her voice, “You know, me and Gregory , we haven’t been on speaking terms for two years. Please, l beg your pardon for telling you this. You are kind of a stranger, but,nevertheless, I want to tell you this.” I was surprised by these words but said, “Yes, please, feel free…” “The fact is Gregoryescaped from me to Moscow to his brother, my eldest son. He was saying I’m a bad act, blamed me of lack of space and that I didn’t give him freedom.. He had been reading some books about personal growth and left. He’s not answering my calls. I know about his life only from the words of the eldest son. And now, I had to call the elder, Kostiya. He passed the information to Gregory. And …”, she paused and I sighed.Poor, poor mother. I didn’t know how to calm her down and said acommon phrase,”Don’t worry, maybe it’s boyish. Time will pass and he will understand everything, he will understand that you just care about him.””You think so?”, she asked hopefully, and I became more pitiful.
An hour later, Gregory called me back, and we made an appointment. During the conversation he asked what sweets I love. I got his point, and gave him carte blanche in this matter. Soon he appeared on the threshold of my apartment with a cake in his hands. I returned the tablet to him, he burst to happiness. I asked, “How did it come about?” “Well, we came over to roller-skate and were changingour shoes on the bench.” “Why not come back for it?” “We were to Vorobyovyhills when I remembered. It was far to go back”. We chatted with him for five or ten minutes, he seemed to me a helpful polite young chap. I looked at this prodigal son and tried to predict if the return is possible.He left, not even suspecting me of being the keeper of the family secret.
The story seemed to be over. Just seemed…. But itwent on.
Two days later I received a call from an unknown number, not Moscow…I picked up the phone and recognized Gregory`s mother`s voice. “Hello, Veronica. Sorry to bother you. Once again I want to thank you thatyou returnedthe tablet to my son. It is very pleasant that there are so responsive good people in Moscow.” “All right”, I said, fixinginside that his mother is a very educated and pleasant lady. “No problem”. “Tell me, please, how did my son thank you?” I internally shrugged, wondering the question, “I didn`t expect any reward. But he brought a delicious cake that was eaten by my children. So it’s all good. Don’t worry”. “But Gregory didn’t even call me back, never thankedme”. I sighed, hearing this. She wouldn’t let him go …How shall I support her? What can I say, an unknown lady living4000 miles away from her? But I still said, ” I thought he is a good guy. And while I was looking for at least some phones, I took some time out of his life. He has a good job, he has a very close, sincere relationship with older brother, your eldest son. I guesshis life is right and correct.” “Really? You think so?”, she exclaimed with the joy of relief. “Thank you very much. So nice to hear kind words…” ” Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” That was the end of the conversation.
But that wasn`t the end of the story. Two days later Igot anunexpected anonymous payment on mycell phone account.1000 rubles, pretty much. And from whom do you think? From Gregory’s mom. She called me again,”Veronica, I sent you 1000 rubles on your phone account”. “Well,you didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” “I think Gregory wasn`t good enough tothank you…”.
Recounting this story, sometimes I ponder whose side I am on. On the side of the intelligent solid mother or on the side of the son eager to grow up himself?
One thing is clear to me:4000 miles is a trifle of a distance…