Read Online Vita Nostra by Marina Dyachenko, Sergey Dyachenko - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marina Dyachenko, Sergey Dyachenko
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mortally offended. If Mom puts up a fight… And that’s what it sounds like…
No. She will not. They are already laughing softly in the kitchen. Now they are having tea. They must have decided: the girl has her own destiny, she’s independent, let her go wherever the hell she wants. They are pleased. Look at us, we’re so modern. What’s wrong with this? Tons of high school graduates move out after the first summer, looking for grown-up life… In the dormitory…
Sasha pulled the blanket off her face. Outside her window with its tightly drawn curtains, it was still light. It was eight o’clock. Half past eight. August. Three weeks before school starts.
Sasha heard a soft knock on her door.
“It’s me,” said Valentin. “Could we talk?”
***
They found the town of Torpa in the road atlas. A transparent circle lay right where the faded paper folded in half.
“Town of Torpa,” Valentin chuckled. “I’d say it’s more of a village. What kind of an institute are they supposed to have there?”
Sasha handed him the yellow sheet. He studied it for a while, flipped it over, then frowned.
“Did you apply there?”
“No. I mean, yes, I did.”
“But your documents were submitted to the University!”
“They accept copies. Plus, I didn’t get into the University anyway.”
“Torpa Institute of Special Technologies,” Valentin repeated. “What sort of technologies? And who are you supposed to be when you graduate?”
“An expert in special technologies,” Sasha said.
Valentin glared at her.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No.” Sasha squirmed. “You don’t have to declare your major until junior year. Or senior. I don’t know for sure.”
“You don’t know for sure, yet you insist on going?”
“If I don’t like it, I’ll come back,” Sasha almost whispered. “Honestly. If it turns out to be a bad place, I’ll come back. Just tell Mom not to worry. I need to go there. I really do. It’s not about… Not at all. I just need to.”
She kept repeating the same thing in different words, and Valentin sat in front of her, confused, disoriented, and for the first time Sasha thought of him as no longer a stranger.
***
“Get up, Miss. We get to Torpa in half an hour.”
“Wha…?” Sasha jumped up and hit her head on the luggage shelf.
She spent the entire night in a twilight zone between sleeping and waking, and only just recently managed to fall asleep. The train was old and shaky, and somewhere a teaspoon jingled in an empty glass.
Shadows and lights swam by, transfusing the open-plan carriage, where half-naked bodies dripped with sweat. Bed sheet corners hung from the cots. Somebody snored, somebody rustled a piece of cellophane, and Sasha lay on the top berth and tried to convince herself: I’ll be back in one week. The condition was: be there when classes start. No one said anything about staying in Torpa for the entire year.
Valentin wanted to come with her. He insisted, and even bought two tickets at the railroad office, one for him, one for Sasha. He intended to check the accreditation of the Torpa Institute, conditions at the dormitory, make sure everything was normal; deep inside, Sasha felt grateful. The dark man who called himself Farit Kozhennikov did not specify that Sasha must show up alone.
The day before their departure Valentin received a call from Moscow: his son from the first marriage was run over by a car, and while he did not suffer any serious injuries, Valentin’s presence with his connections in the medical field was required. Valentin, having forgotten about Sasha’s issues, dashed away to Moscow. Sasha ended up returning his ticket before the train departure, plus she had to convince Mom that she would be perfectly fine.
Mom saw her off. She stood by the train window for a long time, looking through the glass pane, waving, and dispensing last-minute advice. Sasha wished fervently for the train to start moving. But when the locomotive gave the
No. She will not. They are already laughing softly in the kitchen. Now they are having tea. They must have decided: the girl has her own destiny, she’s independent, let her go wherever the hell she wants. They are pleased. Look at us, we’re so modern. What’s wrong with this? Tons of high school graduates move out after the first summer, looking for grown-up life… In the dormitory…
Sasha pulled the blanket off her face. Outside her window with its tightly drawn curtains, it was still light. It was eight o’clock. Half past eight. August. Three weeks before school starts.
Sasha heard a soft knock on her door.
“It’s me,” said Valentin. “Could we talk?”
***
They found the town of Torpa in the road atlas. A transparent circle lay right where the faded paper folded in half.
“Town of Torpa,” Valentin chuckled. “I’d say it’s more of a village. What kind of an institute are they supposed to have there?”
Sasha handed him the yellow sheet. He studied it for a while, flipped it over, then frowned.
“Did you apply there?”
“No. I mean, yes, I did.”
“But your documents were submitted to the University!”
“They accept copies. Plus, I didn’t get into the University anyway.”
“Torpa Institute of Special Technologies,” Valentin repeated. “What sort of technologies? And who are you supposed to be when you graduate?”
“An expert in special technologies,” Sasha said.
Valentin glared at her.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No.” Sasha squirmed. “You don’t have to declare your major until junior year. Or senior. I don’t know for sure.”
“You don’t know for sure, yet you insist on going?”
“If I don’t like it, I’ll come back,” Sasha almost whispered. “Honestly. If it turns out to be a bad place, I’ll come back. Just tell Mom not to worry. I need to go there. I really do. It’s not about… Not at all. I just need to.”
She kept repeating the same thing in different words, and Valentin sat in front of her, confused, disoriented, and for the first time Sasha thought of him as no longer a stranger.
***
“Get up, Miss. We get to Torpa in half an hour.”
“Wha…?” Sasha jumped up and hit her head on the luggage shelf.
She spent the entire night in a twilight zone between sleeping and waking, and only just recently managed to fall asleep. The train was old and shaky, and somewhere a teaspoon jingled in an empty glass.
Shadows and lights swam by, transfusing the open-plan carriage, where half-naked bodies dripped with sweat. Bed sheet corners hung from the cots. Somebody snored, somebody rustled a piece of cellophane, and Sasha lay on the top berth and tried to convince herself: I’ll be back in one week. The condition was: be there when classes start. No one said anything about staying in Torpa for the entire year.
Valentin wanted to come with her. He insisted, and even bought two tickets at the railroad office, one for him, one for Sasha. He intended to check the accreditation of the Torpa Institute, conditions at the dormitory, make sure everything was normal; deep inside, Sasha felt grateful. The dark man who called himself Farit Kozhennikov did not specify that Sasha must show up alone.
The day before their departure Valentin received a call from Moscow: his son from the first marriage was run over by a car, and while he did not suffer any serious injuries, Valentin’s presence with his connections in the medical field was required. Valentin, having forgotten about Sasha’s issues, dashed away to Moscow. Sasha ended up returning his ticket before the train departure, plus she had to convince Mom that she would be perfectly fine.
Mom saw her off. She stood by the train window for a long time, looking through the glass pane, waving, and dispensing last-minute advice. Sasha wished fervently for the train to start moving. But when the locomotive gave the
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