Chapters:
1, 2
1
It was November. The rainy and cold weather was settled in Bishkek for a long time. The gloomy sky as it was angry about the sun hid the playful and bright sun rays. Behind my window the wind picking off the leaves of oaks, poplars, maples and ash-trees whistled anxiously. The yellow leaves pursuing each other flew along the garden and fell to the ground with reluctance. It was heard the thunder`s peals very near. Because of the wind`s strong gusts the trees creaked, the cold rain knocking on roofs and window-sills watered passers-by and fast cars. Recently I came back home after my lectures at university. Having sat in a comfortable arm-chair, I drank tea and watched TV set. The rain became more intense, but it was warm and cozy in my flat as in a fortress protected from an enemy.
My solitude was interrupted with a long ring at the door. A familiar post woman wearing a wet raincoat stood by the threshold.
"You`re working even for this weather!" I said with admiration. "Will you not catch cold? Would you like a cup of tea?"
"No, thanks", answered woman hurriedly. "I must go. I`ll deliver letters quickly and go back. This registered letter is for you. Sign here, please".
I thanked the post woman, put my signature and having closed the door, I looked at the new letter. I received letters in such envelopes before. If we snip an Australian envelope on its sides and from above, it will be a letter on the reverse side of the envelope. This original way was chosen by Australian government which aspires to solve the problem with the paper`s shortage. The envelope had an image of picturesque waterfalls from Grampians National Park, and the letter came from Jeremiah Reynolds, Melbourne`s citizen. I knew Jeremiah or Jerbek as he was called by the Kyrgyz students for ten years. The Australian liked the nickname "Jerbek" meaning "an owner of land" in Kyrgyz, and he often used it in his letters to Kyrgyzstan`s friends. At first I had English lessons from Reynolds as a student of the Kyrgyz technical university, and after my graduation I began to work at my alma mater and we became colleagues. For the last years serious changes took place in the single life of my teacher and friend: at 56 he married for the first time and created his long-awaited family. Having come to our republic in the beginning of the 1990s, Reynolds worked in Kyrgyzstan during fourteen years. Last year he with his family returned to his motherland, and we had our last meeting.
I sat in my arm-chair again, and remembered a July day spent in Cholpon-Ata. Having waked up in the early morning, I took a walk along a shore of Issyk-Kul Lake. When I came to the shore, I was fascinated by the magnificent nature involuntarily. The lake going to the blue distance seemed endless to me. A group of thick white and pink clouds towered above the lake`s waters. The clouds floated slowly; from time to time they united and mixed their colours and shapes, which were absolutely unexpected and peculiar. The beach stood empty, it was calmly and nothing prevented the majestic picture. The memorable calm was accompanied by the constant murmur of running waves, sometimes it was hasty and full of life, sometimes it was quiet and sleepy. The sun, which decorated the lake`s surface with changeable colours, rose higher and higher. The sun rays, visible in the blue sky, gave warmth and cheerfulness to a new day.
After breakfast and a talk with the sanatorium`s lodgers I decided to walk about Cholpon-Ata and look at a fair of applied art, which took place in the centre of the town. Lots of people came for the fair. Having put yurts decorated with patterned ribbons in the square, craftsmen from different regions of the republic offered small shyrdaks, ala-kiizes, kalpaks, various souvenirs of leather, pile and felt to their buyers. Such fairs counted on foreign tourists were one of the rare sources of income for the craftsmen. Among the tourists strolling about the fair I turned my attention to a tall, slim European with a fine hair-cut. When the man turned round to my side, my last doubts disappeared that Jeremiah Reynolds stood in front of me. His thin, accurate features, sea-blue eyes, stylish grey hair and moustache distinguished Jeremiah among his Slavic and Asian university colleagues. Near Reynolds I saw his wife Joan, not young Australian of Philippine origin, and two boys of four and five years old, who had small patterned kalpaks on. Before her acquaintance with Jeremiah Joan worked at an Australian medical centre, where she was occupied with scientific investigations of oncological diseases. She had no her own family, and sometimes took part in the upbringing of her numerous nephews and nieces.
"Hello, Jeremiah! What a nice surprise! Really is it you?" rejoiced I, having taken a step to my friend.
" Hi, Sergey! Are you here too? I`m so happy to see you!" exclaimed Reynolds, smiling wide and embracing me. "By the way, let me introduce our children - Mirlan and Azamat. Joan and me took them six months ago from an orphanage", explained he, having noticed my astonishment. "As you see, we bought souvenirs for them".
"You don`t say! It means I can congratulate you on a real, full family,
can`t I?"
"Of course, you can. Well, and how are you? When are you going to marry?" asked Jeremiah his constant question.
"Oh, you know it isn`t simple task", I smiled. "For my part marriage is as difficult as defence of a thesis".
"I understood all, in short you plan to marry to your pension", Reynolds joked. "All right, I hope you`ll not forget to invite me. We had a lot of long-livers in our family".
"How possible it is!" I assured him and threw up my hands with pretended perplexity. "I promise you`ll be the first to know about this event".
While walking about the town we talked with Jeremiah and his wife on different subjects. Reynolds asked me about my work, scientific activity, and I was interested in his plans, health of his sisters living in different parts of England.
"Two weeks later we`ll go to Australia for ever", Jeremiah said at the end of our meeting. "I`ll miss Kyrgyzstan, but next year I`ll be pensioned off and want to come back to Melbourne. You can write me, if you have time".
"Without fail, Jeremiah. Well, I wish you all the best and happy journey!" I answered and waved a farewell to my friend and his young family.
1, 2
2
The life of Jeremiah Reynolds probably looks like the destiny of many common people in the western countries. He was born into a poor farming family in the north of England. Jeremiah`s father taking part in the World War I died when the boy was 14. His mother became a widow with her three children: Jeremiah had two sisters, one of them was five years elder than he, and the second sister was his age. In his youth Reynolds, as many teenagers of his generation, was fond of American westerns with John Wayne and Roy Rogers, admired songs of "The Beatles" and played football with passion. Thanks to the privileges given to the children from incomplete families by the postwar laborites` government Jeremiah was educated and became a history teacher. His unhappy first love and thirst of new impressions induced Reynolds to move to Australia. In this United Kingdom`s dominion Jeremiah worked as an administrator in a hospital, and then found his situation in a school, where he taught children different subjects - history, literature, mathematics, French and English languages. His financial conditions were not fairy: he rented a flat in Melbourne during five years; when Jeremiah was a school teacher, he took a credit for a one-storeyed house, which became his property twenty years later. In his personal life Reynolds had two not long romances, which did not give a chance to create family. Jeremiah, a sociable and energetic man, found his monotonous work burdensome, and when an opportunity occurred he began to travel. He traveled all over Australia, visited New Zealand, Western and Eastern Europe, some African countries and even was in Soviet Union twice. At the age 47 Reynolds lost his job and was completed to find it abroad. In the beginning of the 1990s Jeremiah sent to Kyrgyzstan by Scientific, Technological and Language Institute began to teach English at the Kyrgyz Technical University.I made Jeremiah Reynolds` acquaintance when he was over fifty. He had an effective, handsome appearance. Hot-tempered Reynolds at the same time could be well-disposed and had not bad sense of humour. His complicated temper was reflected at his active face with visible wrinkles. Jeremiah combining with classical and working clothes dressed himself modestly, but always neatly: a necktie and jeans were usual details of his suit. He had hostile feelings to computers, mobile telephones and Internet. Energetic and somewhat self-assured Reynolds attracted unmarried and divorced women`s attention, but was inaccessible for them. Not all students liked him, he seemed an uncultured and rude Yankee for somebody (they thought that he is American). I must say Jeremiah could not stand, when his compositions were not made in time. Reynolds` reactions corresponded to his temperament: while the teacher scolded loudly his light student he hinted that boy or girl must leave his lesson. His resonant voice frightened at that moment and was heard very well in the corridor.
However there were students who attended his lessons for all five years of their studies and made friends with this lonely and not very happy man. As to me I became his student with not bad school basis, but Jeremiah`s lessons, especially his compositions, gave me much. Thanks to my teacher, my vocabulary widened by lots of English phrases and turns of speech. Later on I asked his advice often and never was refused.
I sniped the envelope slowly. There were a photograph with Jeremiah, Joan and their foster-children in it. My friend, his wife and Kyrgyz children Mirlan and Azamat looked happy and contented as a real united family at the photo."Excuse me that I sent you only a congratulatory postcard", Jeremiah wrote.
"The last year of 2007 I was very busy with different occupations, and therefore I am writing you now. I was pensioned off and look after my orchard with pleasure. To tell you the truth, it was Joan`s idea to take Azamat and Mirlan from an orphanage. My wife has many nephews, but they grew up, and she wanted to have our own children. It is strange, but a man like me, who disliked children before, got attached to them fast. I never thought that at 63 I became a father. Mirlan and Azamat are excellent boys, and I try to spend all my free time with them".
"Well, everything comes to him who knows how to wait", thought I, coming to a window. " It`s possible I also will find my happiness".
The rain drops fell rarely and quietly. Not long after the rain ended and light stains reminding about the sun showed themselves through torn clouds. The nature coming to life again was full of pleasant colours: from time to time grass shone like an emerald, wet trunks of trees looked as silver columns, yellow leaves was shot with pure gold. It became light and cooler as if the rain and wind drove away autumn and warm May days came back for a short while.
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