Doctor Zhivago

29

The rest of the tracks stretched in front of the train on this side and the Razvilie station was visible on the mountain in the suburb of the same name.
An unpainted wooden staircase with three platforms led from the tracks to the station..
The tracks on this side represented a large steam locomotive cemetery.. Old locomotives without tenders with pipes in the form of bowls and boot tops stood pipe-to-pipe facing among the piles of wagon scrap.
Locomotive cemetery downstairs and suburb cemetery, crumpled iron on the tracks and rusty roofs and signboards of the outskirts merged into one spectacle of abandonment and dilapidation under a white sky, scalded in the early morning heat.
In Moscow, Yuri Andreevich forgot, how many signs in the cities came across, and how much of the facade did they cover. The signs here reminded him of this.. Half of the inscriptions in the size of the letters could be read from the train.. They climbed so low on the crooked windows of the rickety one-story buildings, that the squat houses beneath them disappeared, like the heads of peasant children in their father's caps pulled low.
By this time the fog had completely cleared. His traces remained only in the left side of the sky, far east. But then they moved too, moved and dispersed, like the floors of a theater curtain.
There, three versts from Razvilya, up, higher, than the suburb, made a big city, district or provincial. The sun made his colors yellowish, distance simplified his lines. He lay in tiers on a hill, like Mount Athos or the hermitage of the desert dwellers in a cheap popular print, house on house and street above street, with a large cathedral in the middle at the top.
«Yuryatin!"- the doctor thought excitedly. - “The subject of memories of the deceased Anna Ivanovna and frequent mentions of Sister Antipova! How many times have I heard the name of the city from them and under what circumstances do I see it for the first time?!»
At this moment, the attention of the military, bent over the typewriter, was attracted by something outside the window. They turned their heads there.
The doctor followed their gaze..
Several captured or arrested were led up the stairs to the station, among them a schoolboy, wounded in the head.
They have already bandaged him somewhere, but blood was oozing from under the bandage, which he once smeared with his palm on the tanned, sweaty face.
High school student between two Red Army men, last of the procession, drew attention not only with determination, which his handsome face breathed, and pity, caused by such a young rebel. He and two of his entourage attracted the eyes of the stupidity of their actions.. They did the wrong thing all the time, what should have been done.
From the wrapped head of the schoolboy, the cap was constantly falling off. Instead of taking it off and carrying it in your hands, every now and then he corrected it and slipped it lower, to the detriment of a bandaged wound, in which both Red Army men readily helped him.
In this absurdity, contrary to common sense, there was something symbolic. And yielding to her gravitas, the doctor also wanted to run out onto the site and stop the schoolboy ready, rushing out of the saying. He wanted to shout to the boy, and to the people in the carriage that salvation is not in fidelity to forms, but in liberation from them.
The doctor looked away. Strelnikov stood in the middle of the room, just entered here straight, by leaps and bounds.
How could he, доктор, among such an abyss of vague acquaintances, do not know until now such a certainty, how is this person? How life did not push them? How their paths didn't cross?
It is not known why, it immediately became clear, that this person represents a complete manifestation of will. He was so much the one, what I wanted to be, that everything on him and in him inevitably seemed exemplary. And his well-proportioned and beautifully set head, and the swiftness of his step, and his long legs in high boots, may be dirty, but seemed polished, and his tunic of gray cloth, maybe wrinkled, but gave the impression of ironed, linen.
This is how the presence of giftedness acted, natural, not knowing the tension, feeling, as in the saddle, in any position of earthly existence.
This man must have had some kind of gift., not necessarily original. In the, overlooked in all his movements, could be a gift of imitation. Then everyone imitated someone. To illustrious heroes of history. Figures, seen at the front or during the days of unrest in the cities, and amazed the imagination.
Most recognized popular authorities. Comrades who came to the front ranks. Just to each other.
Out of politeness, he did not show, that the presence of an outsider surprises or embarrasses him. conversely, he addressed everyone with this look, as if he and doctors belonged to their society. He said:
- Congratulations. We drove them away. It seems like a war game, not business, because they are the same Russian, like us, only with foolishness, which they themselves do not want to part with and which we will have to knock out by force. Their commander was my friend. He is even more proletarian in origin, чем я. We grew up in the same yard. He did a lot for me in his life, I owe him. I'm glad, that threw him across the river, maybe, and further.
Make a connection soon, Guryan. There is no way to keep on only messengers and telegraph. Have you noticed, what a heat?
For an hour and a half, I still slept. Oh yes ... - he caught himself and turned to the doctor. He remembered the reason for his awakening.
He was awakened by some nonsense, by virtue of which this detainee is standing here.
"This?"- thought Strelnikov, having measured the doctor from head to toe with a scrutiny. - “Nothing like. Here are the fools!"- He laughed and turned to Yuri Andreevich.
- Sorry, comrade. You were mistaken for someone else. My sentries got it wrong. You are free. Where is the work book of a friend? To her, here are your documents. Sorry for the immodesty, in passing let me drop by. Zhivago ... Zhivago ... Doctor Zhivago ... Something Moscow ..., you know, nevertheless for a minute to me. This is the secretariat, and my car is near. Please welcome. I won't keep you long.

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