Victoria Levin. Those Words that I Wanted to Say

Those Words that I Wanted to Say

She pressed the button of the car player once again. She had

already heard this song many times, remembered the first

phrase:

“Those words that I wanted to say …” She liked its melody, but

there was no wish to catch the meaning of the lyrics. The unfamiliar

language did not yet reveal to her all its nuances. She understood

casual conversational language without difficulty.

There was, undoubtedly, no problem with the professional, that

is, technical terms. But the song lyrics somehow passed her by,

not touching her stiff, hardened heart.

“I came home after a night shift with the only desire to take

a bath and fall asleep in my bed, but she did not let me into the

house. She said that I picked up germs from the garbage truck

and brought infection into our house. I slept in my clothes on

the street,” her tenant once again repeated his story.

Lord, how tired I am of you! What a boring man! Why should

I listen to all this nonsense? she thought lazily, trying to delve

into the lyrics of the song that she liked so much.

Those words that I wanted to say

Like the thoughts flew away…

But I picked up the phrases, and they

Have become a bouquet!

Wow, there, in the player, someone with a pleasant baritone

gathered words in a bouquet! And here I am sitting in the car

with this jerk and listening to his boring story of a failed family

life with an insane wife.

Well, can’t I destroy the idea that I am a well-mannered

woman? I’ll get out of the air-conditioned car into a muggy hot

night, slam the door and wave the guy “Adieu!” Then, this restless

guy will go to look for a parking lot. He will put his beloved

car somewhere in a miraculously vacant place, and go up to my

apartment, opening the door with his key! Was it the devil that

made her sublet half her apartment to a tenant! She turned on

the player again. Why hadn’t she heard these words before?

But the depth of these words

And the secret of meanings

You won’t catch in one instant –

Through the ages, you won’t…

“And, on the doorstep of our house, she pulled down my

pants and sniffed me, as if I were a dog, to see if it smelled

of another woman! Oh my God, how I hated her!”

Lord, will you ever shut up? I’m bored with your crazy wife,

children and dad and mom, who desired that you would marry

‘a piece of rich land’ in the centre of the country! What should

I do with all this? Do you know what it is to start life with

a clean slate in a foreign country, with children, without language

and money, and you, married to an expensive real estate?

So rent now a corner in other people’s apartments on the warm

seashore, lick your wounds. But I have my own problems, she

thought.

“Do you like this song?”

“Yes, I like it. For the first time, I understand the words

of this song. Only this word… what does it mean?”

“Roads, life paths.”

“Okay.”

All the roads I’ve passed,

and I wanted to cross – are behind.

On the roads I’ve passed,

I was stumbling and making mistakes.

‘Suddenly, she felt a lump in her throat, and tears were

about to spill down her cheeks. No! Just not that! She had forgotten

how to cry, since the evening when her ex-husband had

hit her in the face for the first time in the twenty-odd years

of their ‘perfect’ family life. He did it when she timidly asked if

he was going to look for work.

“No. No, tears!” She decisively ordered herself. I will neither

recall it, nor cry over my failed life, nor talk about it, especially

to this annoying guy.

I remember all joys that I had,

They have gone like a moment,

I remember the place,

Where I lost all my dearest words.

“O! Who is this handsome man, who appeared in your apartment?”

asked the neighbour from below yesterday. She couldn’t

take her eyes off her tenant when they went down in the elevator

on the way to the lawyer to sign a rental agreement.

“Is he handsome? No better than a monkey!” She answered

sharply in a language that was clear enough only to her and

to her curious neighbour, “He’s my tenant.”

“Ahhh,” the neighbour said pointedly, “such an interesting

tenant!” still keeping her eyes on this annoying guy.

“Well, of course, he doesn’t bother you with stories about his

unhappy life!” she wanted to answer.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening! I like ice cream. And

I rarely go to the seashore. Well, it’s time to go home! I should

get up early tomorrow, and you’ll soon have to be at work.” She

glanced at her tenant. He was also listening to the song on the

disc which they both had heard so many times.

I remember the dreams that I had

in the predawn sometimes,

I remember the taste of the tears I shed

and miraculous sunrise,

when in crazy night fires

I burned out of love,

and the dreams that were dying,

and the years I wasted in vain.

His eyes were gleaming in the light of streetlamps. He

glanced at her so tenderly that the lyrics of this song stuck

in her throat. Then they were both looking at each other for

a long time until the song was over.

“Thank you,” he said in a loud voice, “thank you for this

evening, for this song. I love it too. Will you kiss me?”

“Yes,” she said, and her lips lightly touched his unshaven

cheek. Like a monkey, she thought, and hurriedly jumped out

of the car. The light of the lanterns showed that she was smiling.