Do Live Instead of Me. Katia Sapieva

territory wasno special problem for the young watch although he had to clean it regularly. He did not start taking care of the graves at once thinking fondly that all thedead came here accompanied by their loving relatives. Later the situationbecame more clear to him. Serezha noticed some graves nobody was taking careof. Since then he added to his duties.

      So a year passed. Therewas little that changed in Sergey’s life, only the number of graves increased. And again it was August, the best time for philosophic meditations. Theevenings seemed shorter and the nights more black than an Oriental beauty’seyes. After his routine inspection, Sergey returned to his watch house to havetea and see the TV. He was tired and in fact, wanted to do nothing else. Theair remained rather hot even after sunset.

      On entering the roomSergey stretched his hand to the socket to switch on the electric tea kettle. At that moment his hand stiffened for the kettle was on and the water was justgoing to boil.

      “Strange it is, -Sergey thought. – I don’t remember putting it on”.

      He thought a littlewhat he had done before the inspection but found no clear answer.

      “OK, – he dropped thematter, – I might have put it on, forgotten and gone out”.

      Taking a cup with apicture of a sad long-haired girl Sergey carelessly dropped a tea bag and acouple of pieces of refine sugar into it. He only had to pore boiled water. Then he put on the TV as usual and started shifting the channels.

      Turning off and backthe guy saw that there was already water in the cup. Sergey frowned and lookedabout. There was nobody. Strange again, did I forget?

      – Just mysticism, that’s all, – Serezha thought aloud.

      – I didn’t believe inmysticism earlier, – he heard a soft man’s voice behind his back.

      Serezha turned back inan instant and saw a short man’s profile. Turning white from fear he lost thegift of speech.

      – Don’t you be afraid, – the voice went on. – I didn’t come to kill you though they killed me longago.

      – … Who are you?..,Serezha spluttered.

      – So, you are speaking, attaboy! I already thought I would have to resuscitate you, the man’ssilhouette answered with a grin. – I am Sergey. At least, that was my name whenI was alive.

      – I am Sergey, too… -the watch said with amazement, still in the state of a shock.

      – I know. It was youwho took care of my grave. Thank you.

      – The grave with aplate? – the watch remembered. – Strange, why they did not bury you at aChristian cemetery. Besides, there is another name on the plate…

      – They mixed it up, -the silhouette answered. – I helped them. I didn’t want my mother to insist onautopsy and see horror instead of me. She still considers me missing.

      – What happened to you? Is it not you in the grave?

      – It’s me, Serezha, butonly in pieces. I’s an intricate story. We served in the same place but I wasin another division. You were more lucky.

      – There is somemysticism here…

      – But that is true. Hardly had a fallen in love I managed to leave my girl unhappy and then Idestroyed myself, too. Poor thing, she is… – the silhouette said wistfully. —Why don’t you drink tea? A poured a cup for you.

      At the moment realityseemed unreal to Serezha. It was just impossible. He was talking to a ghost whocarefully served tea to him. Just tell it to anyone and they will think thatyou went quite mad in the cemetery.

      He took a drink, puthis cup on the table and studied the ghost closely. He could not see his faceclearly. He had a sense as if he was looking through a blanket. But the blankethad human features. His conclusion was not very informative: judging by thevoice it was a young guy, by appearance someone of an average constitution. Toolittle to know about a dense vague silhouette.

      – Trying to look at me?– the silhouette asked. – I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’d better sit downor whatever…

      Sergey slowly sat downon the sofa. Just then he remembered how tired he was after his working day andheat. His legs became swollen and the body got weak, there was a buzzing in hisears from high pressure.

      – Why did you come tosee me? – Sergey asked his guest a minute later.

      – I have a littlematter to talk over with you, – the silhouette answered wearily. I see you are anice guy but unhappy. Have you ever been in love?

      – Me? – Sergey wassurprised. – Well, maybe I liked someone but that was long ago and not tooserious.

      Sergey had never thoughthoroughly whether there was happiness in his life for reality was quite different. The war deadened his feelings and all the desires disappeared at all. Whatcould be happiness? A strange question.

      – An odd fish, you are… – the guest said ironically. – Just love is happiness. This is the only thing Irealized before they sent me to the other side.

      – A girl? – Sergeyguessed. – Do you still love her?

      – Well, how should Iput it right…, – the guest sighed. – One cannot take love to the other side. I fell in love with Madina when I was twenty four and she was nineteen. She wasbeautiful, modest, with long black hair. I saw her hair later when I startedpeeping at her at night. In the daytime she hid it under a kerchief…

      The guest kept silencea little.

      – Then everything wasjust like in a movie. I felt it difficult to talk to her. I was afraid… Untilone of her brothers was rude to her.

      – Did he? – Sergey didnot believe. – I never thought that local men could be rude to women.

      – That’s just it. Youdon’t know their habits well though you served there, – the guest continued. —She worked at school in the same settlement. Once after my duty I followed herin secret after school to find out where she lived. The same evening I saw hercrying.

      – You felt sorry forher? – Sergey smiled.

      – Sure, – the guestanswered seriously. – Her brother came out and started saying some rough thingsto her. I was struck dumb from such a rude tone, he spoke just like chief ofour division…

      – I cannot see why youthought it was her brother. He might be her husband and she an adulteress, thewatch supposed. – Maybe she overlooked something in the house or was bringingup a child badly.

      – Bringing up achild.., – the guest said in a low voice. – She was and that was mine.

      – What do you mean? —Sergey’s eyes broadened from such an unexpected turn of events. – How could shebe bringing up your child if you were even afraid to talk to her, buddy? Didyou rape her or what?

      – The child is mine butI never raped her, the guest said abruptly.

      The silhouettedisappeared leaving Sergey alone in the room. He was out of sorts from themeeting with the dead soldier but even more did he wonder how such things couldhappen in real life. Neither was it clear to him how a Russian soldier’s graveappeared in the Muslim cemetery. Did the diseased Sergey marry a Muslim girl? But then his mother should have known about it. Quite a mixture. A child… Thewatch could see no logic and there was nobody to counsel from in an empty room.

      On waking up in themorning, Sergey noticed that he was half-sitting on the sofa and the light wason. His shirt was buttoned up on only two lower buttons, his khaki trousersrolled up in zigzag fashion a little. He stood up and went to the table with a cupof icy tea that became green. The drink reminded him of yesterday’s visit.

      Sergey first thoughtthat the vague guest was just his dream. Them he fluttered his hair and touchedhis