Текст книги "The teacher"

Автор книги: Ksenia Nikitina

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 7 страниц)

Ksenia Nikitina
The teacher

Part I

April

The first storm broke after a hot and muggy day, allowing London to cool down. A cold downpour drove all passers-by from the streets, knocking the remnants of dust from the hot asphalt. The water ran in large streams that made a noise and played, running down into a deep ditch. Bright and sudden flashes lit up the city, echoing from the loud peals of thunder that rattled the old wooden Windows of the little house on Summer Road. Young nineteen-year-old girl sat in a battered armchair in the living room, trying to concentrate on Latin, her brown eyes darting over the typeface. The screams of her little brothers irritated her, but she didn't want to go to her room. A maroon jumper with a white blouse sticking out and a matching skirt below the knees indicated that the girl had not yet changed, having returned from College relatively recently. Her thick shoulder-length hair was slightly tousled and tangled at the roots.

«Lily, see what I can do!» one of the three brothers exclaimed, tumbling off the springy sofa and dropping his body on a pile of pillows.

«Remember, if you break your neck, your parents will have five other children besides you…» said the girl, throwing her thin legs up on the sideboard and burying her face in a lifeworn textbook. Her thin lips were pursed, and her nose was wrinkled from the intense processes of memory in her head. The triplets made noises in the living room until the phone rang, startling all four of them.

«Everyone shut up!» Lily hissed, rushing to the phone in the hall and picking up the old beige receiver. Her friend's voice came on the line, bitterly informing her that the teacher of literature and literature would not allow Lily to take the exam if she did not deign to show up for class.

«Damn it! Her brown eyes flickered over the calendar on the wall, helping her think about what to do next. «Can I sleep over tomorrow so I can catch my first class on Thursday morning?»

«Of course! Otherwise, your honours degree will be crying, friend.

Tuesday

Girls hurried to classes, running across the road near the College, laughing merrily. For Lily, it was more of a nervous laugh, connected with the impending punishment from a teacher who, until today, had not even known her by sight. A small hall with white walls and a wooden Board with a schedule of classes and offices flashed past, and the girls were already hurrying up the stairs to the fourth floor. Excitement rose in her throat and her palms began to sweat as she went to the right-hand door, opened it, and let a more confident and calm friend pass. «Of course, Monika didn't miss a single lesson, unlike me!» The thought flashed through her mind with a touch of envy as the body flew into an old office with beige walls and light peach curtains. Three large Windows provided ample heat and light, and fifteen desks with students cheerfully absorbed them in their study interests. Taking the last table by the window, Lily tossed her bag under a chair and pulled out the notebook containing Charlotte Bronte's essays and essays. Feeling a lump of excitement in her throat, Lily looked up, scanning the audience and the chattering girls of her own age, and finally noticed sitting at the faculty table an adult male in his mid-thirties or early forties with thick dark brown hair slicked to one side and dark eyes that looked dark at first glance. A deep and penetrating gaze was fixed on the magazine. Long, broad fingers stroked his short, well-groomed beard, which was lighter than his hair. On the index finger of his left hand, a broad gold ring glittered in the spring sun. On the left side of his black waistcoat hung a gilt watch chain attached to a button loop. A starched white shirt clung to the man's body, emphasizing his physical prowess. The noisy bell made the girl start and look away from the teacher, who immediately became animated, getting up to close the door. Lily leaned back in her chair, hiding behind a tall classmate and waiting for the death sentence. By all rights, the teacher could demand her expulsion or transfer to another teacher, but, alas, this discipline was no longer taught at the College. So the entire stream of graduates had to pass through Mr. Shulman. That was his name, Mr. Thomas Shulman. Lily wrote his name on the title page of her notebook during the first lesson. In a peculiar introduction to the class, the teacher omitted her name from the list because of fatigue, or perhaps because of simple absent-mindedness. She would have been so unlucky a second time. The man straightened his massive back, looking around the entire class, not noticing the added head on the last Desk. The height seemed to allow you to see everyone, but the vision was so-so.

«Good morning, girls. Let's start the lesson, as always, with the absentees,» the voice was hoarse and slightly smoky, and it echoed in the office. «Devana, top button!»

The short, fair-haired girl lowered her head guiltily, her face buried in a book, and feverishly buttoned her shirt collar. Finally, Mr. Shulman sat down, holding the edges of his trousers together, not wanting to pull out his new and ironed trousers. The teacher opened the magazine, naming names, slowly but surely going down to the last one, which was Lillian's. She tapped her fingers restlessly on the table, feeling her knees tremble as she stared at the ink-covered table. Hearts, numbers, names, and insults to the teacher became real soothing literature for Lily.

«Yung?» the teacher asked defiantly and in surprise, not raising his eyes as usual, knowing that such a student was probably not in the class, and he did not have time to clarify the circumstances and collect rumours. Lily cleared her throat, exhaled softly, and pursed her lips to gather her courage.

«I'm here.» she muttered, sinking back into the chair behind her classmate. The teacher was looking for the right girl, sitting and fidgeting. It was impossible to hide any further, and Lily sat up, meeting the gaze of a man who raised his eyebrows with interest, but quickly scanned her appearance.

«Today the Earth will begin to turn the other way…» a hoarse voice tried to make a joke, but nothing came of it. So began the lesson, during which the group read an excerpt from «Jane Eyre», repeating the school program. Mr. Shulman glanced at Lily from time to time, frowning when he noticed that she was drawing something on a pad, completely ignoring him, like everyone else, in a state of morning half-sleep.

«Miss Yung, can you explain to me why this girl didn't marry Mr. Rochester and run away and leave herself to wander?» Lily jumped up from the drawing, noticing the silhouette of a man to her right, twirling a book in his fingers, looking at a Notepad. The student covered the image with her hands, looking up. Her gaze flickered over dark grey eyes with fine lines on the lids and large ones on the high forehead. His brows were drawn together in a questioning, uncomprehending expression. They were accompanied by plump, now disapproving lips. The teacher sniffed patiently with his sharp nose, still looking straight into her eyes, scaring and scaring her away.

«Hmm» Lily blushed and swallowed, repeating the question in her mind,«Probably because Mr. Rochester was not a widower, as he pretended when he hid his distraught wife in the attic» her voice broke several times, but she managed to finish without daring to look up at Mr. Shulman, who had already returned to his seat and was continuing the lesson. A slight shiver ran through her for a full hour and a half, allowing no distraction, devoting all her attention to the discussion of the novel. The long-awaited bell in the corridor allowed her to gasp and throw her notebook and textbook into her bag.

«Thank you all for the lessons. Goodbye.» Lily glided to the door, but the teacher stopped her with a sudden call.

«Miss Yung, stay.» The girl immediately went limp, sinking guiltily into the first Desk next to Shulman, who was sitting on the edge of the table with his arms crossed over his chest.

«It's a long break, and I hope you've had your breakfast at home, because you won't be able to get to the dining room in time.» Lily nodded politely, knowing that this was not a good time to eat.

«You missed four classes in a row, failed four essays, and failed two tests. One of them is about Jane Eyre.» Lily handed the Notebook to the man, looking around guiltily.

«What is the reason for your absence?» Mr. Shulman frowned and opened his mouth, waiting for an answer. Lily just shrugged, not knowing where to begin.

«Do you like to sleep or is it much more complicated?» Lily snorted, turning away from the window.

«Complicated…» the thoughtful tone strained the already confused Thomas, who grabbed the magazine as he sat down at the table.

«Do you have a biased attitude towards male teachers?» he said, putting on his thin glasses and opening the magazine's table of contents. Lily shook her head. Thomas was surprised to note that the girl regularly attended all the physics classes taught by Mr. Harris, the second man in the women's College, immediately after the second literature lesson. This made Tom stiffen a little, almosttable. «Do you support the idea of fascism? In other words, you are against Jews and for a pure race?» Lily looked at the teacher as if she were a fool and shook her head even more violently.

«I'm not an Aryan or a Jew. My mother is Russian, if that's what you mean.» The teacher grinned guiltily.

«I am a Jew.» Lily hesitated, looking at the door.

«Then what is the reason for your absence from my classes? According to your report card, you're doing well in all your subjects, but you don't go to my classes.» The teacher flipped through the magazine, surprised to see excellent grades and good grades, wanting to look at the root of the problem, but the girl is tightly covered with a veil, as if it torments her daily, and she is already used to the silence in which she stood up. «So what's the reason, young lady? I don't want to take you to the Director.» Lily shrugged, not knowing what to say or where to begin.

«Well. I got my degree a long time ago and I want to help you.» Again Lily shrugged her shoulders.

«There is one reason.» Thomas narrowed his eyes, listening intently, but the girl paused again, searching for the right words. «My neighbour works in a warehouse on Tuesdays and doesn't go to London to give me a lift.» The man nodded understandingly.

«What about the bus?»

«The first bus doesn't leave until seven-thirty, and classes start at eight sharp. I can't physically do it.» Lily said, straightening her tie.

«Don't you like the College Dorm?» Thomas didn't back down.

«Not at all, not. I just can't stay here all the time because I need to be home.»

«Do you have a family?»

«I have a little brothers to take care of.»

The teacher nodded again, making a long sound.

«What do parents do?»

«Mother is a stay-at-home mom, but she recently suffered leg paralysis and hasn't moved in six months.»

«And your father?»

«He's an attaché, but he doesn't live with us now.»

«Why?» Shulman went over the edge of a business conversation, too deeply immersed in the student's problems.

Lily pursed her lips, not wanting to answer a personal question. The man finally calmed down, leaned back in his chair, ruffled his straight, clean hair, and stared thoughtfully out the window.

«Sorry.» Lily only smiled slightly as she accepted his apology and glanced at the door. Understanding the hint, the man decided to let go of the girl, unclenching the invisible paws of flared curiosity and interest.

«Well, run.» Tom glanced at his pocket watch as he took it out of his pocket. «You have time for Breakfast. Try to get admission to the exam for your own sake, okay?»

She hurried out of the office, took a deep breath of the cool air, descended the steep stairs, passed through the other floors, and went to the bathroom to wash her face in hot, red, icy water.

Part II

Thomas Schulman walked down the narrow College corridor with a thin notebook in his left hand. Adjusting his black drape coat and removing his hat, the man rubbed his thick and short beard and knocked several times on the flimsy door, from behind which the girl's soft screams could be heard. Thomas had long been used to the noise, screeching, and laughter of the girls who gnawed the granite of science in this wonderful institution, after which a good half will go off the right path, and only a part will escape to the people. But what kind of people they were was also a moot point, and as soon as he opened the door, he entered the seemingly half-empty office. Light walls with a large number of formulas and stands, large windows and lack of any comfort. Large racks of tools, test tubes, and other junk that had never been used, and the mouldy ceiling needed replacing. Twenty-year-old mares raced between the white desks, trying to rip off everything necessary for the upcoming experiments and beat the hell out of the student garbage that was already being handed out to them through their teeth. Edward Harris, a forty-eight-year-old physics and astronomy teacher, sat up slightly at the teacher's desk. His straight black hair was tousled and covered with fine grey at the temples, his greenish-brown almond-shaped and sly eyes were fixed on a book, and his fingers were clutching an ink pen that had stained his sleeve. His thin lips were compressed, and his narrow face was completely calm as he looked at the madness in the classroom. The table was soiled, scribbled, and covered with chalk. The brown Board behind him was drawn by a familiar hand. Thomas looked around the group again, looking for a suitable student whose Notebook he was holding. A few girls sat at the very end, their slender legs propped up on the tables, giggling and chatting, ignoring the two teachers of the opposite sex. Three girls were looking out of the window, drawing something on the fogged glass. Yung, on the other hand, sat in the third row, her head in her hands, her brown eyes closed. Sharp knees and pale thighs protruded from under a skirt that had been accidentally pulled up, and her friend sat on the edge of the skirt and talked to the sleeping girl. Thin, light underwear flashed between Lily's legs as she crossed her legs, continuing to doze as her friend told her story. No one in the class paid any attention to Thomas. If this had been his lesson, the girls wouldn't have dared to go from whisper to voice, let alone throw up their half-naked legs. The man stared at Lily for a moment, finding himself admiring her, and then turned to Edward with a soft chuckle. This man was always absent-minded and thoughtful. I think all geniuses are a bit weird and mysterious, but this guy Shulman read once or twice. Edward's sly and playful gaze first swept over the girls ' legs, and then with great difficulty switched to the Jew who held out his hand.

«I welcome you! »

Shulman nodded, leaning his elbows on the table. The noise in the classroom was wild, as if small children had come to the first class, not adults; some even married girls who had received medical education.

«How are you? I see you have rebellion and disgrace here.» Edward smiled, occasionally glancing at Lily's feet, which were now his only comfort.

«Youth will forgive them.» Harris grumbled, still looking at the girl's feet.

«Youth will remember them all, » Thomas thought, remembering why he had come.

«Can I steal a student from you, just for a few minutes?»

The man nodded, waving his hand around the «assortment» with the words-any. Shulman forced a smile, feeling like a brothel customer choosing a date for the night.

«I need Yung, » he said.

Harris nodded politely, calling the girl by name, which made the quick Jew a little embarrassed. The physicist's lustful eyes darted to her. The girl started, looking around dazedly, vaguely answering the teacher's question about what she had done during the night. Tom could only make out the word «work» as he fiddled with his hat. Lily froze in shock for a split second, finally noticing Mr. Shulman standing at the teacher's Desk with her notebook in his hand. After buttoning the top button and straightening her tie, Lily took a step toward him, deftly leaping over someone's backpack. A maroon jumper was pulled over a thin body, a black tie was pulled tight in a hurry, and a crumpled skirt fell below the knees. Her thick hair fell over her shoulders, shining slightly, and her brown eyes were downcast with embarrassment. The man let the girl go ahead and opened the door for her, smiling faintly with his eyes as he stood against the North wall in a dark corridor with a dim light. Thomas straightened his back, squared his broad shoulders, and handed the notebook back to the student. Lily took the notebook back, still staring blankly into the gray-green eyes opposite.

«I read your essays with interest.»

Lily nodded, pursing her lips, not sure if she should say anything back. She also didn't know that an hour ago, Thomas had been sitting in his office sorting through a huge pile of ignorant papers, finally staring blankly at the wall, thinking about the last gang fight where a young boy had died at his hands. The dark brown desk was littered with junk, and a thin Notebook sat on the edge of it.

«Why the fuck did I take this fucking notebook with me when I could have left it in College? » he asked himself, feeling like an ass.

Since the notebook was at hand, the Jew decided to take a little break from the bloody and masculine Affairs, opening the first sheet. The girl's initials were scrawled on the title page in the upper corner, but his name was written very neatly and in a very real calligraphic hand. «mr. Thomas Shulman»-dark blue smooth letters lay softly on the white sheet, sliding sideways with a slight tilt. Tom ran his fingers over the dry paper, feeling a slight tingling in the pads, either from the poor quality of the paper or from something else that was foreign to him. Turning the page, he read the text, noting clever statements and overly harsh arguments about love, correcting grammatical errors here and there. He knew that at her age it was unacceptable to be so disillusioned and insightful, which a disaster was. Nevertheless, the words caught and allowed Shulman to look into her soul, which turned out to be a real darkness, tangled with contradictions and grounds. Tom has already read fourteen similar essays from girls her age, half of whom have not yet held a penis in their hands, a quarter have lived with their husbands, and several others have broken men like seeds. But Yung didn't fit into any category, which worried the literature teacher beyond words. Lily flipped through the notebook, smiling contentedly at her good grades and glancing at Thomas, who was just as happy to be able to cheer her up and give her confidence.

«I wrote down my grades in the journal, but you… you will have to pass two more tests. »

Lily nodded.

«Is it okay to be 'you'? »

Lily shook her head, still looking into his gray eyes and feeling a slight tremor in her knees.

«The schedule changes from Monday, so literature is moved to Tuesday for the first lesson. » Thomas pulled out a small blue notebook, checking his notes with a familiar frown.

The girl continued to listen, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from the man's insistent gaze.

«And on Tuesday, I'm ready to see you after all classes. For two hours. »

Thomas finished by putting the same hand in his coat pocket and noticing the girl's gaze. Lily nodded again, and then stopped.

«Mr. Shulman …» the man looked up questioningly, listening intently to the girl, who blushed as she shyly picked a small hole in the wall and chipped off a piece of beige paint. «I have practice at two o'clock on Tuesday. »

The teacher stared at her with a grey and empty stare, expressing absolute indifference to the situation. «Then decide what is more important to you: a diploma or running around the field.»

Tuesday

Lily tapped softly on the door of Mr. Shulman's office, opening it slightly by the iron handle. There was no one at the table, and no one inside, so the girl boldly entered the classroom, threw her bag on the table, and plopped down wearily on a chair.

«So where is this slicker? »

There was a sigh from behind, and Lily jumped up, turning to face Mr. Shulman, who was sitting in the back row, smiling contentedly.

«Well, at least not a Jew, or an old moron or something worse. »

Lily clutched her head guiltily, cursing herself for getting tangled up like a ball of silk thread.

It would have been stupid to apologize, so the girl was silent, looking at the man's groin, lost in tension.

«For you, inquisitive, I'm as flat as a toy soldier in my pants…» Tom said, pulling out the necessary papers, wanting to lighten the situation with a joke, but only making it worse. Lily immediately turned away, feeling even more guilty, wanting to run somewhere far away, cursing herself for her own absent-mindedness, so that she wouldn't look him in the eye again.

Before that, the pale face flared up like fire. The man handed her the test, inviting her to sit next to him at the same table.

«Move your chair!»

Reluctantly, Lily got up from her seat, dragged the heavy furniture over, and sat down next to Thomas, swallowing hard. The man, not wanting to violate the chain of command and personal space, moved a little to the window, noticing how the team of girls chases the ball on the green field.

«Write a test, » Tom muttered, slipping a blank sheet of paper under the girl's elbow. Lily took an ink pen, trying to write the date and name, but all the ink ended up treacherously, scared of Shulman. Unsurprisingly. The teacher scratched his beard, and then handed her a pen with a fine engraving, which seemed to the girl terribly heavy.

«Thank you.» Her slender fingers couldn't handle the mechanism, so the owner of the pen wrapped his arm around Lily's arm, took a shaky breath, and wrote her last name together.

«Not fatal, is it?»

The student shook her head at these questions, feeling that Shulman's insistent gaze on her profile was distracting her from her task. The high forehead, smooth cheekbones, and small nose touched the thoughtful Thomas. Brown eyes darted around the classroom, occasionally squinting, and plump lips brushed his hand, leaving a trail.

After a few minutes, the man got up and walked around the office, muttering to himself, sighing, leaning in close to Lily from time to time, inhaling her perfume, leaving his own behind, which soaked into her skin, hair, and clothes, and was interrupted by fresh Cologne. Gray eyes searched for answers, blinking and grumbling.

«Why are you so disappointed, Lily? » came the hoarse question in the silence, interrupted by the rasp of a sharp pen on paper.

Lily looked at Mr. Shulman, who was standing between the two table's with his hands on them and the sleeves of his beige shirt rolled up. His dark eyes were fixed directly on her, and his lips were compressed and barely visible behind the thick vegetation.

«What makes you think that? »

«You write an essay about a love you don't believe in. Don't you have a boyfriend who can prove otherwise?»

The girl dropped her pen. Outside the window, an icy rain began to fall, as if washing over Lily's inner sadness. The dark clouds appeared too quickly, as did the interest and curiosity of the Jew waiting for an answer.

«Why waste time on someone who won't even remember you in ten years?»

The man straightened up.

«Love is just a collective concept, isn't it? What are we waiting for under the word «love»? Beautiful promises, prickly rose thorns, loud vows, a warm bed, and estrangement in the end?»

Thomas nodded, humming politely, choosing his words.

«Don't you think it's worth looking at from the right angle? You don't think so, do you? Beautiful promises are promises that give a part of the soul. Prickly thorns are part of the beautiful roses, and the bed is warmed by two, without them it is cold. Too many contradictions, Miss Yung. »

The girl chuckled.

«Not for me. You are a literature teacher and you tend to romanticize everything.»

Tom stifled a chuckle, wishing he was still a romantic in her eyes, not the leader of a gang that had hundreds of ruined lives and many times as many broken destinies on its hands.

«What about your passes? Is the issue resolved?»

Lily nodded, passing the answers to the man.

«Well, let's see…» the man raised his thin glasses, through which the paper text was reflected.

The elements were raging outside the window. Rain lashed through the slightly cracked old windows, letting in a biting chill.