Affection

There wasn’t much left, just to pass about forty meters and turn behind the corner; then there’ll be a slope leading to the iron hospital gates.  

She increased her pace and began to climb rapidly up the hill, clenching tightly in her hands a heavy white bag.  

A little more patience and she would be standing next to the gates, smiling to the familiar security man, showing him the documents. The gates would squeak and swallow her skinny bronzed body into hospital’s indoors. Afterwards she would have to walk along the corridors, making her regular way – precisely six corridors, divided on two and a half departments, five plastic ficuses and seventeen pots with macramé, out of which as if from cradles flowers show their vivid heads. Not a soul around – usually everybody is fast asleep at this time. An ideal cleanness everywhere – everything is sterile, smooth and slippery, like the linoleum, which covers the floor in tracks.  

And so, the same thing every week, sometimes twice a week, she comes to visit her ailing buddy. The doctors gave out their permission; said it is completely safe for she is a female. The virus doesn’t attack females and harmless to them, it is dangerous to males only. This is the bit where the feminists should’ve clapped their hands, but fortunately she’s not one of them. It’s just she feels sad and angry that it particularly happened to her friend.  

From some reason he hadn’t died like others or got bounded to his bed for long months, but simply came to a family doctor to ask for medicine against common cold. Of course the one didn't show any concern and just prescribed him mere tablets.  

Then there was a phone call – her buddy called her and said that he was having fever and asked if she had something to stabilize it. Of course she immediately dashed to his place. She was welcomed by a red-faced delirious man covered all over with rash.  

And so, she walks along the required corridor, trying once more to get used to the cold light of neon lamps.  

If you get into such illumination you immediately become a walking corpse – your cheeks get sunken, your youthful face gets ghastly pale; your skin stretches and becomes covered by unfamiliar shades. In a few seconds it grants you the status of a patient.  

Now there's not much left – she starts to rumple nervously the ages of the grocery bag, pressing it to her chest with both hands. Here she comes to the required door, stops, puts the bag on the floor and with a dying heart timidly pushes the door slightly open.  

There he is – a tired brown-haired man in old hospital pajamas, watching her from within the room. Her hand shivers from excitement; she lifts her heavy burden and pushes the pliable door again. It noiselessly opens and a pinkish evening light fells on her face, transforming her once again into endearing young woman.  

He faced her with his back, fixing his gaze through the window onto the yard. Perhaps today he felt himself particularly lonesome.  

– Hello, – she affably smiled at him, closing quietly the door. – May I  

come in?  

– Hello, – he mumbled, pressing his stomach against the cold stripe of  

a marble windowsill, but didn’t leave the window, still not facing her. She saw his stooped back and shoulders and felt a strong desire to reach them; put on her warm palm and draw it along his shirt to straighten them.  

– Don’t stand there, come in...  

She startled and stepped on the white linoleum, still clenching the bag with groceries. Then she came to him and also looked through the window. An evening was slowly approaching the street. Resembling black sparks nimble birds were darting in the cloudless pinkish sky.  

– Swallows, – he said with fascination, – I like watching them when the  

evening falls… I guess I got used to it… – he then silenced, watching their disordered flight.  

– Oh, I’m sorry! Please, please, sit down or you may catch a cold… – he looked at her in confusion with slightly watering eyes.  

– No, you're the one who might catch it, it is still cold! – she said, slamming the window, and the turned to him and began fastening the buttons of his pyjamas, contemplating over his exhausted face. The buttons ended and they both paused in the mute interlacement of stares.  

She was the first to take the gaze away; ran to the bedside-table and fussily began to shift the supplies from her bag on its white enamel.  

– There's a terrible bustle in shops, and one can’t buy anything proper  

in your kiosk, – she was mattering, while pulling handsome tomatoes out. – What they feed you here, anyway?  

– Porridge, – he answered absentmindedly. – Tea, rye bread, cigarettes….  

She just smiled dejectedly in reply, casting her glance over the glass of unfinished yogurt. She threw the emptied bag aside and approached him once more.  

– Come, show me your hands, – she frowned, asking a little  

strictly.  

He outstretched them, showing off the pink tips of his fingers.  

– The rash has almost passed, – she beamed. – And  

what the doctors say?  

– Said, I should be sent home by the end of May, – he told, inertly coming over to his bed.  

When the young lady came out of hospital’s gates and began to descend back down the slope the street was already surrounded by twilight, and by the time she reached the bus station it was almost a complete darkness.  

She stood, wrapped in a chilly air filled with the street and passing cars odors, and waited for her bus. She became cold, but there was nobody to warm her. Chilled to her bones, she sunk to the bench, resting her dark head against the glass of the booth.  

…She stared remotely at the passing cars, from some reason this evening feeling herself completely voided. She had nothing to declare. Thoughts rushed through as recollections of today’s visit, coming and going, leaving after them just melancholic emptiness.  

The desolated corridor flashed in front of her eyes, then a ward, covered with pinkish haze of evening light, a view of a hospital yard. – another few cars passed by.  

In her memory, like on the colored copying paper, appeared the genial features of his smoothly shaved face – slightly idle and indifferent to anything that doesn’t regard evening sky or swallows; his shabby home-slippers; her thin flexible fingers climbing promptly upwards through the shirt’s eyelets; up the ladder that led to his large dark eyes.  

Then she looked at him, and saw confusion, which he fruitlessly tried to hide.  

She was standing and smiling. A calendar hung on the wall presaged good news. A month, just a month, and he would be hers again!  

During this half-year she watched that man with awe, noticing the uncountable metamorphoses that were happening to him. She felt sorry for him. Something was slowly dying within her friend. It is said that it’s dangerous for people to stay secluded for a long time, especially, in the late evenings, particularly in hospitals…  

– I’m so happy to see you! Soon you’ll be fully recovered and they will  

let you free! – she said loudly, approaching the windowsill on which he was sitting. – You’ll come back to your normal life, to your friends, to your favourite work. We’ll celebrate your return! I’ll invite all of our friends! Everything will be just great…  

It seemed he wasn’t listening, but just gazing at her with inflamed eyes, vacant from the lack of sleep. He felt the need for hot coffee, fresh buttered bread and a quiet buzzing of a midge upon his dishevelled head, while he relishes on one of his books in his bed at home. All this long ago had been covered by dust and overgrown with bygone. He changed and there was no return.  

– I see… work…, – he jumped on the floor and, slapping with his bare feet, ran to the center of the room. – Hey, I’m going back to work! – He shouted to the bulb above his head. – Isn't it great! …  

She recoiled from the window and stared at him with perplexity.  

– …What’s happened? – she said quietly, tossing her hands in  

confusion.  

He transferred his gaze from the ceiling to her –a scornful sneer appearing on his plump lips. His face changed for a moment, becoming distinct and very alert. His black eyes sprinkled in a burst of a sudden fury.  

– Nothing! – He retorted viciously into her face – That's the thing,  

nothing! Completely nothing…  

Heavily raising his hairless chest, he was inhaling the air loudly. His fingers were clutched, cheeks flashing with fury.  

She moved back to his bed. She felt unwell. Ghastly white from commotion, she sat down on its edge.  

– Don’t say that, please, – she whispered plaintively, flinging her gaze in  

disarray along the room’s edges. – Please...  

He turned to her and guiltily dropped his head.  

At that moment, something broke inside her and a liquid salt burst from her eyes. Not trying to conceal her face, she was sitting totally disarmed, tears leaking down her cheeks.  

He froze and looked at her, afraid to approach, not knowing how to act. Just kept standing in front of her in a distance.  

He stooped his proud shoulders and was gradually calming down. She was hushing as well, creaking with the bed in tact to her girlish sobbing. Finally he paced in her direction.  

– Relax, everything’s fine, – he squatted and gently touched her bronzed  

hand. He sat like that for a while, hiding his embarrassed glance. He felt ashamed.  

She wordlessly wiped her tears, calling a smile up for help.  

– Never mind, – she breathed out in relief, drying the last of tear  

drops, – It’s my fault, I got scared like a stupid child.  

She glanced at him, smiling. The traces of rage still haven’t left his face. Tired, slightly swelled eyelids and long black lashes safely hid his gaze from explanations. Slight wrinkles on the forehead and under his eyes treacherously revealed his age.  

In ten years time, his life will have become completely tasteless, drowsily drifting into moldering anility. Loneliness will twist him into a knot, sealing up all exits to hope. He foresaw it. He wanted to dare, but it was too late...  

He still frowned, pressing his head into shoulders, as if afraid of a slightest hint to the sincerity from her part.  

For instance, she seemed to him very appealing. He had got surprised by that discovery and grew alarmed, taking his hand off her knee.  

– You have to go now… – he uttered, straggling for a breath, running his  

eyes across the dim floor. – You’ve got a bus in ten minutes.  

– Sure... – she smiled, lowering her head. – Take... – she hooked the  

slippers that lay under the bed with her feet and drew them out. – Put these for now... I’ll bring you a new pair next week.  

She stood up, came to a chair and clenched her handbag of a wooden back.  

The door sadly creaked, letting a brazen draught in. She silently smiled and glanced at him.  

– Don’t stand barefooted, you might catch cold…  

Eventually, she sent him another smile and shut the door behind.  

– Till next time… – he said quietly.  

Yes, she loved him. Loved him with all her heart, as much as it could allow not to blaze up and explode. It’s just, nobody knew about it. This was her most concealed secret ever. To him she was only a friend – kind and devoted, always ready to stretch out a helping hand, even when it was not necessary. He didn’t know; and she couldn’t overcome the fear of confession. And so, it was just a mere friendship – they worked at daytime, exchanged friendly advice, but at evenings, she used to lock herself in her room, giving the soul and the body into possession of a languishing spleen. Sometimes, though, he agreed to accompany her back home, but more often she came to visit him for tea herself. She revealed her feeling neither to her mother nor to her female friends. A secret hidden love has been cherished in her young heart for three years in a row. The time had passed and through this time she matured, becoming twenty-one. More and more willingly she got attached to her affection, treasuring and nurturing in her heart the bashful hopes for mutual sympathy. She saw that he was accepting her as a loyal friend only, skipping so closely her charming youth.  

He was much older than her; but thirty six isn’t a vice, especially if you’re being a youthful loving creature, wanting to soar high into the sky and cry out to the entire world about your love, so it could share your joy with you. Other men didn’t bother her. She lived her daily dream and did not intend to open her ardent heart to anyone else. She was rather settled with the fact that he didn't love her, for one doesn’t necessary have to be loved, most important, her beloved is at hand and she can always take care of him.  

Rain scattered against the asphalt, cheerfully playing its noisy music; mercilessly lashing the tree branches, renewing their dusty tailcoats into a deep glaze; splitting in a wild flow over the roofs of the neighboring houses, and from there cramming through the gutter to the grass. It was raining cats and dogs, but wasn’t cold anymore; it was the middle of May.  

Walking rapidly along the trail, covering her head with a handbag, the young woman had passed the familiar yard; escaping the rain under the shadowy leaves of the old chestnuts, passed through the garden filled with dew, with its flowerbeds and allies. Her shoes got completely sodden in a warm rainy water and, splashing over the fresh grass, barely hung onto her feet...  

Clasping them to her chest, she was obstinately climbing up the hill. Her dress was soaked from the downpour and wet skirt clung to her legs, hindering her walk. Soon her chilled figure glimpsed in the hospital’s gates...  

When she came in, she caught him lying on his bed, knees resting against cold grey wall. A stripe of pink flesh forlornly peeped in the curve of his slimmed body. She stood for a while by the entrance; then approached to the head of a bed.  

– Is it you? –he grumbled, burring his head in the soft pillow.  

She didn’t answer, just gazed at his arched figure and gently drew her wet palm over the base of his shoulder. He flinched, taking his face off the cushion, but after a moment he hid his cheeks in it again.  

– Are you tired? – she asked, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and observing his chilled body through his undershirt. – Would you like some tea?  

He slightly moved and made a deep sigh.  

– Don’t bother…  

But she didn’t listen and dashed to the kitchen table.  

She took the kettle and turned it on. A hailstorm raged outside the window.  

While she was brewing the tea, he lied motionlessly in the bed, devoting himself to his mental torments.  

– The tea is ready! – She announced, clasping the puffing mug with her  

cool palms.  

Trying to avoid her wet hair getting inside the mug, she ran to his bed.  

He felt the warmth that came from the steam and began to fidget.  

– Hey, are you all right, turn over… you’re not  

well?  

She towered above his clumsy body, forgetting about the mug.  

– No one cares… –he suddenly sighed, pressing his  

fiery cheek against the coldness of the wall. – They don’t give a damn…  

She carefully put his mug on the floor and lowered herself next to him. He felt her damp dress slightly moisten his undershirt.  

– Don’t speak this way. Your manager highly appreciates you, – she said  

and sighed, bending over his ear. – Clients adore you! You’re the best worker of the company! Everybody loves you…  

She sensed the way his body strained for a moment, but then it went limp again.  

– Who loves me?  

– They…  

He began crying softly, his pliable back shuddering in almost unseen manner. Couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him, she thought that it was her fault.  

– I’m sorry… I guess I said something I shouldn’t! – She began to reprove herself for not being sensitive enough. – Don’t cry… – her heart twitched.  

But she got moans instead of an answer. She tried to soothe him with endearment, her heart beating wildly from anxiety. She clasped her arm around his waist and drew herself nearer.  

– How about tea? Drink it, you’ll feel better!  

He began to stir, and turned over his back; glimpsed at her, but immediately transferred his gaze to the ceiling.  

A man and a young woman were lying on the bed next to each other. Their heads are resting motionlessly on the pillow; hands unconsciously entwined, trying to grope the obscure emotions of their owners. The silence lingered, and only bustling drops of rain were tapping out some prompt drumming on the window's glass. Each of them was staring at the ceiling, each of them thinking of the most soaring.  

– Do you love me? – his soft rasping voice disturbed the helpless  

stillness.  

She quivered as if was struck by lightning, and faced him with her back. Then came the silence.  

– Do you love me? – he repeated again and lay on a side too, touching  

her wet shoulder with his forehead. She felt it and lifted herself up the bed.  

– I have to go now, – she said putting the soaked shoes on –  

See you next week. I'm late for my bus. Goodbye.  

He was sitting hunched on his bed, watching silently how she gathers her tousled hair, takes her handbag and approaches the door…  

– Wait, don’t go…  

He sat down. By the base of his legs stood the tea mug that lost its heat long ago. His throat felt very dry. He lifted the mug and made a gulp.  

Window. The world scented with freshness, sweet pollen, honey and a mild breeze of the leaving spring. He stood against widely open window and inhaled the aroma of freedom which burst straight into his soul. Today was the day of the long-awaited release. The quarantine had come to its end and was gently untying the fetters, preparing to throw its captive back into the stern reality.  

She entered the ward, clenching a big bouquet of carnations to her chest – youthful, beaming with rays of happiness, outfitted in a beautiful white dress, as if intended to go to a primary ball. She breezed with cool mint and springly freshness.  

He stood with his back towards her. A new navy costume that she had bought him well fitted his slandered body. On his feet a splendid pair of shining leather shoes personally granted him by the head doctor. She stood still, afraid to disturb the singing of the birds outside.  

– You here? –suddenly he twitched, fronted her and stepped in her  

direction. His shaved face, looking robust again, was broadly smiling.  

The amazed girl outstretched him the flowers.  

– They are for you. I’m so happy that everything is well and…  

He beamed.  

– Thank you!  

A gentle kiss on her cheek forced her to loose her speech. She blushed with colour, scarcely holding the flowers and stepped back.  

This caused him to blast with laughter.  

– Wait! Don’t be scared! – He came very close, moving away the  

carnations which hid away her face. – I’m so glad to see you! – and his lips carefully groped the corner of hers…  

– You’ve kissed me. Why did you do it? –she said with panic, trying to  

come back to her senses and suppress the sudden excitement.  

– I don’t know, – he laughed. – Maybe, cause you love me.  

The girl stared at him in bewilderment.  

– You knew?  

He nodded, smiling.  

– I thought that you must have felt something for me. Back to our working times… This was something hard to miss.  

She glanced down.  

– Then why you…  

– I was frightened. I just didn't believe that someone could love me. I  

was frightened of myself. That sounds stupid, I know. Please, forgive me.  

He embraced her lank waist, rose in his hands and kissed again. Then put her down and smiled.  

– Shall we go?  

She nodded. They came out of the ward holding hands.  

Sun peeped through cloudy shreds, throwing patches of light at the pallid linoleum and the fluffy bouquet of carnations that was left on a bed.  

A rainbow rolled in the sky, the sky that only recently had been thunderous. It was the end of May.  

30. 01. 2004