A Story of Agapit Pechersky - Anastasia Novykh (best color ereader .TXT) 📗

to turn inside out. I was already barely holding out, afraid to move once again. It seemed I would even faint the next moment. But all of a sudden a fresh breeze blew from the sea, and it relieved me at least a little. So, I perked up and turned to the breeze, naively supposing I were to recover soon. But noway.
The wind gained strength. The sea became noisy. In the glow of the moonlight path, I was horrified with the view of sea waves driven by strong gale, every new wave getting bigger and bigger. The guys quieted down and started to look around.
A blast of wind fluttered our tents badly. In a moment light plastic bags flew up and whirled around the shore in their wild dance. The wind rose with every second. The tents were not just fluttering. It seemed someone was trying to tear them from the ground with all their iron pegs in one stroke. A new rush of hurricane wind scattered about the fire. The serviettes lying near caught fire in a second. The burning lumps were hurled to the cars. Meanwhile big fire, like a furious beast, pounced on dry reed, devouring the canes.
Horror-stricken we jumped to our feet. The senior boys together with Nikolai Andreevich dashed to put out scattered burning serviettes. Volodya, Stas, and Andrew got down to blow out the ‘double fire’. Tatyana and I, out of fright, began to grab somebody’s clothes, beddings, towels – anyway, whatever our eyes met near the fire – and started running with those belongings here and there, not knowing what to do. For the first time I experienced a real animal fear before the raging elements.
The wind became so strong that only its blood-creeping howling and growing noise of the sea were heard. Something inconceivable was happening. The water now swiftly rolled away, now collapsed against the shore with a great din, crushing down its bigger and bigger parts. In the cool moonlight the sea seemed to be boiling up. It was ready to swallow anybody standing on its way with its storming jaws. Giant water ‘tongues’, with terrible hiss, were approaching the place of our recent ‘gathering’.
Nikolai Andreevich, proving his nickname of our ‘Common sense’ ran to the car, tried to start up the engine and cried on the run:
“Leave that stuff! It’s gonna flood! We won’t get out of here then.”
Everybody started rushing about. As for me I was absolutely ‘stunned’. My legs almost gave way. And then, among that disorderly fuss, I saw Sensei. My person erroneously supposed him to be putting out the fire or being somewhere near the car. But he appeared to have been imperturbably sitting on his place, not even changing his pose, and watching our bustle as if an action film at the cinema. To say, I was shocked, is to say nothing.
Meanwhile Eugene ran up to Sensei and shouted, trying to outvoice the hurricane and the downright risen sea: “Sensei! The tents are about to be carried away! What should we do? It’s time to skiddoo! The water is coming...”
Sensei replied to my and, judging by Eugene’s face, not only to my great surprise: “Bring me a cup of sea!”
“Do what?!” Eugene didn’t understand, thinking he had misheard Sensei at first.
“I said bring me a cup of sea!” Sensei shouted again.
Eugene couldn’t believe his ears and was taken aback. He stared at Sensei.
“A cup of sea??? I’m gonna be washed away together with that cup... Together with you! Just look at the waves behind!”
The waves were indeed very high already, and each new wave came closer and closer to the place Sensei was sitting. They hit against the shore and splashed around with noise. Carried by wind, these big cold drops were beating us hard in the face like hail. But Sensei, being wet through, never turned to look at really horrifying black waves. He just smiled in reply to Eugene’s tirade like a master satisfied with his work. As for the guy, having understood the senseless of his attempts as well as uselessness of threatening and arguing, he just exclaimed in a fit of temper: “Oh my God!”
Apparently resisting his crying logic he began to search for his mug in that utter chaos. The others kept rushing about in panic, somebody was trying to save the tents, some were running about with belongings, somebody was fiddling about the car, cramming something into the boot. Eugene started asking if someone had seen the mug. It seemed the guys couldn’t understand what they were asked. When Eugene inquired Stas about the mug, instead of answering the latter gave him a good shake, shouting almost in the very ear:
“Eugene! Have you lost your mind or something?! What mug?! We’re are about to be washed away!” and not letting Eugene go, he turned to Nikolai Andreevich. “Doc, should I knock him cold and put in the boot? He seems to have gone mad!”
“Stop footling about!” ‘Common sense’ rumbled in response. “The spit is being flooded! Hurry up and get into the car, while it’s still possible to drive through...”
And Eugene, torn himself from his friend’s tenacious hands, yelled:
“You are crazy yourself...! I’m alright! It’s Sensei who’s gone mad!”
The word ‘Sensei’ was like a throw of cold water on Stas. Instead of running to the car as Nikolai Andreevich had called to, Stas, as if rooted to the ground, stared in astonishment at Sensei. At that moment I noticed that I was holding this unfortunate mug in my hands together with other belongings. I felt like I was struck with current.
“I have the mug, here it is!” I shouted at the top of my voice, dropped the other ‘trash’ aside and ran to Eugene with it.
The guy grasped the mug, as if I passed a baton to him, and rushed to the sea that was already not far from Sensei. The sea obviously didn’t like the idea of giving its water away. It splashed one wave, then another, knocking the uninvited guest off his feet. After falling, Eugene still stood up quickly and contrived to draw some water from the fleeing wave somehow, though with some sand and other dregs of the storm. But as soon as Eugene managed to do his task and take to his heels from the new billow, to my horror, far on the moonlight path I saw a huge wave, inexorably approaching us. I wanted to cry about it to others, but in an instant my throat became parched. Instead of a cry I was able only to produce some hoarse inarticulate sounds and make some feeble gestures pointing my hand at the sea. For the moment Eugene ran up to Sensei and stretched out the mug to him, trembling all over like an aspen leaf either with cold or with fear. Being in utter commotion, I looked at the big wave again. It was steadily approaching, with its destructive power of a famished predator, intending to swallow the entire shore prey at once. Apparently, the boys have also noticed its scaring blackness, because they started frantically shouting something to Sensei. Their heart-rending cry mixed with roar of the breakers in my ears. It was terrible to think what could be about to happen.
Meanwhile Sensei took the mug calmly. Paying no attention to the others, he covered it with his hands and concentrated for several seconds. Those seconds seemed an eternity to me. The wave was approaching headlong, and Sensei was still. The others, near the cars, kept crying out something. Suddenly I felt that my ailment began to vanish suspiciously swiftly. At the same time Nikolai Andreevich, Victor, and Volodya, apparently having realized that they were not heard, ran up to Sensei.
But then Sensei opened his eyes and gave the mug to Eugene in the same calm manner, saying: “Pour it into the sea.”
When Eugene took the mug, he didn’t need to run to the sea, because it was already near his feet. With indifference he poured the water into the wave rolling away, gazing spellbound at the approaching high billow.
“We need to run, Sensei,” Stas came running, his gaze also fixed on the dark large-tonnage mass of water.
Instead of Sensei we heard Eugene’s doomed voice:
“It’s too late now. It’ll run us down all the same.”
The others, who just ran up, hearing the words of Eugene stopped, understanding all the senselessness of their actions. Only then Sensei turned to the sea. However, in contrast to us, he didn’t just watch – he was admiring the formidable element.
At that instant I felt everything calming down and sorting out inside me. The sickness and giddiness were over. My organism came back to normal. Even fear disappeared. There came unusual clearness in my consciousness. I felt so good and inspired as if it were the best minutes of my life, though the real picture was rather telling differently. Even that high billow, instead of rousing horror and panic, actually started to impress me with its view of inimitable power of nature.
All of a sudden the wind quickly dropped. The waves became smaller and smaller as if a giant iron had pressed the black sheet of the sea along the moonlight path, smoothing out the creases. The big billow didn’t roll only several hundred yards to the shore and, breaking all laws of physics, started diminishing swiftly. Its waters came to the shore only as an echo of a light splash. The water reluctantly abandoned the conquered shore, returning to its usual borders. The wind died down; and there recommenced calm, already unwonted to the ear.
I shifted my gaze to Sensei. And it dawned upon me. I suddenly realized what caused that unexpected storm. It was by no means a natural anomaly as my mind had been theorizing while in panic. But undoubtedly it was performed by a human thought! And though my mind continued to resist such conjecture, something deep inside me, that knew much more about the world around me than my material brain could express, – exactly it – gave me the opportunity to understand the true reason of what was happening. I was astounded with the real will-power of a Human, possessing the knowledge, which even elements were submissive to! How great the capabilities are that God put into each one of us. But can we possibly appreciate His gift in full, if we choose for ourselves the life of a worm in the darkness of our own egocentrism? Can we comprehend His true Love for us, if we take no notice of anyone except ourselves? Sheer outward show, sheer delusion, and the whole life goes in it. A worm is a worm indeed. There it lived, and now it is no more. There is even no need for raging elements, the life itself will smash it with its heel just like that.
Nature calmed. Yet no one made a single move, evidently profoundly amazed with the experience. The moon illuminated the chaos left by element on the shore with its weird cold light.
In this silence that seemed to be unreal suddenly we heard the voice of Sensei: “It would be nice to make a fire and get warm a bit...”
Those simple everyday words took us out of stupor. We turned to Sensei in astonishment. Meanwhile Sensei took off his wet-through short and began to wring it out, pressing sea water out.
“I say it would be nice to make a fire and dry up a little,” repeated Sensei looking at our amazed faces.
This phrase brought us back to our senses, as it is called, for good. Senior guys silently took out flashlights from spared tents and roamed about the beach searching for dry firewood, as all our stock was either wet or burnt.