Summer Smith meets a Russian guy, a fanfic 18

 A YOUNG GIRL was ready to jump over the bridge...
 Me and my friend Vlad were eyeing her...
 She was plain, but cute, got ginger hair, tangled in the wind, blue eyes and a petite build. Her bright pink tank-top and white capri-pant were hardly helping her against the Siberian cold. A foreigner. Complete foreigner!
 I mumbled in English, "Let's have a love adventure before you die!"
 "Not with you", she cries. "Just jolt me, Mister!"   
 "If so, I'd get fun with your сorpse!" (The "p" was mispronounced.)
 "I hate the corps and the military!"
 "I mean with your cadaver."
 "With what?"
 "With your DEAD BODY!"
 Now her face shows deep disgust.
 "Do you sell organs? My kindey'd be missing?"
 "I'm selling you a date with me! What's your name?"
 "Summer! But I'd prefer your attractive friend", she says, poiting at Vlad, also a redhead, who understands nothing at the moment, standing on the bridge and elbowing me:
 "Does she need any help?"
 I indoctrinate my friend in Russian:
 "She says, she likes girls ONLY!"
 Then I'm making sad the girl:
 "Vlad's been married for 25 years! Also, he hates strangers!"
 "But I'd give him 25 max... anyway... Let's try it for a while with you, Mister... (A small hug to me. Vlad depressed.) You looks like a real Russian, because your face was hewed from native timber but the ax slipped..."

 Since that occcasion we started dating...
 Summer was calling me "fish-like and frog-like aquamorph, genetically adapted to live within a totally toxic environment" (Mr. Dougal Dixon's quote). Actually, I have an approachable appearance! Only my light brown hair is slightly tousled, but that's fun...
 She just did not get it! Because she was a special girl.
 SUMMER SMITH.
 She even used TRIPLE name, in documents separated by a hyphen: 'Summer-Eva-Elfie Smith'. She’d been raised in Seatle, a city of grunge, in an extreemely kinky family. They all used to enjoy conversations with a non-existing 'grandpa' with blue hair (?!) called Rick. Rick was nothing but a collective hallucination, doctors said them finally.
 Since that time Summer wanted to show her independent leftish side by running away from her traumatic past at home. She eventually flew to Paris for literaute studies and later even decided to sign an agreement with the Siberian University, where the germ of life had died likely in the Cambrian times. She taught English at the same University where I taught Russian for foreigners. Her students did not learn it at all though. Summer felt a desire to hang herself on the bridge just in her very first workday...
 "I hate your country!" Summer exclaimed in English already at my home (she hadn't mastered Russian), as she pushed against me with her skinny body and oblong-shaped face.
 "Your people don't speak other languages (19sec), never smile and eat bland Chinese fruits. This is the cheapest country I've ever seen, utterly gas-parasitic! (16sec)  There is no place for me here to dance swing or enjoy coke! You even make love like animals (yes, even now!) and your favorite word, 'DAVAJ,' seems like the anthem of militarists and harassers! One taxi-driver held me in his cab for 30 minutes. He just repeated DAVAJ and laughed, while I was screaming: NE NADO! STOP!" (11sec)
 "Well, Summer, when we smile, it's genuine. 'DAVAJ' means we're enthusiastic! A driver is a notorious city madman. (9sec) Swing and cocaine is too bourgeois for a leftist like you. Instead you should try our borscht!"
 She fleshed her perfect teeth.
 "Your weird soup with cherry beer?.. But stop! Are you encapsulated? Give me some rocket fuel!"
 3, 2, 1 --
 Our rocket started off into explosion...
 A flinch of the muscles.
 Now we're muted for a moment. My scantily lit room smells of egg noodles, shrimps and wine. Summer decorates my sofa like la colonne Vendome. She neither wears a bra, nor does makeup, but she offers her «bye» to the bus drivers.
 "Next time, give me some fuel INSIDE!"
 "Summer, I'm afraid that if my comet were to crash into your depths, it might create rather new death — much like the Chelyabinsk meteor did in Russia. We can watch today a fall of 2016-WF9-asteroid, by the way!"
 "I don't care! Progestin, ella... It proves strong against any sperm-comet."
 There are scars on her back from childhood. She was telling everyone, that her 'grandpa' Rick used to involve her in something he called 'timespace cosmic  adventures'. So horrific and perverted!
 She complains more:
 "I'd known your country only through literature. Harry Potter and Anna Karenina are my favourite books ever. [*The beginning of her own book should be found at the end.] But now I see... nobody cares now about Freedom and Wonders here! I miss Rick so much... he had cared..."
 "I care stronger than a fake person! I do!.."
 Pause. My gaze and thoughts drift away from a naked girl to a pile of Chinese essays. Wang Li, Zhang Mei, Chen Yu... a lot of work to be done…

 >>The history of my city, Irkutsk, is a quite simple steampunk novel, if you believe the Chinese perspective. First, mammoths and woolly rhinos inhabited the earth, then the Huns reshaped Europe. Siberia ostensibly belonged to a Chinese descendant of Genghis Khan, followed by the Cossacks with their merchandise, spiced teas, and the Trans-Siberian Railway. Boom BAM! The Ananta soldiers seized Irkutsk, but Marxists sudenly fought them back and... (an empty page.)
 Nowadays, Chinese students see in Irkutsk a source of admiration, administration and fresh water...>>
 
 "It's all lies", I say, "Nobody had made civilisation in Siberia before the Russians. Baikal lake was NEVER a Chinese lake, as you were never MINE! But how about being inseparable?""
 An English teacher was getting dressed.
 "Everyone seems so mute here, my dear. I felt I had no other choice to be chatted with! But don't worry, I'm not attached!" She rolled her eyes with a hint of sadness. "Your friends make you vile! Like that Vlad who hates foreigners... How about skyping with my father or my brother instead?"
 "I'm not sure I want to, Summer. I heard a story about a guy who was serving in Caucasus (it's like your semi-colonized Afgainistan). He had a fling with a local Muslim girl and woke up the next morning with his dick cut off."
 "Ugh! There's nothing like that with us. We're pro-sexual freedom, if it FATHERS or BROTHERS you so much. I don't need your endless stories."
 "Let's Get This over With, Summer! Get Set. Go!"

 *What an incredible fight! Smith stuffs the takedown of a Russian fighter and lands a picture-perfect shot in his groin! Side kick to the thigh! Great job by her! The champion is cut!*

 "Auch!"
 "Sorry, it was out of fear! Rick instructed me how to fight back some years ago..."
 With that, she slammed the door, leaving me beaten in the darkened room.  Elle deteste la Russie, elle se sent tres mal ici…
 I peep out of the window for a moment:

R           R          R           R          R           R
   A          A         A           A          A           A
      I           I       I          I           I           I
        N          N       N           N          N           N

 Why was this TORTURE happening? I'm starting to psychoanalyse myself. I was fourteen when I first got in a fairy-tale called Through the Forest from a Monster.   
         
 >>My daddy forgot me in a wilderness to entertain himself with cute tourists, something I could have prevented by reminding him of my mother. Imagine being stuck in a dense forest, completely lost, scared, and blinded by the darkness. My only stroke of luck was having a gun. After wandering for about an hour in a random direction, I encounter... a huge bear! Around him lay three bodies, dressed more fashionably than the locals. I knew that 67% of bear's attacks happen when a tourist walks alone, so...
 "Bang!" I fire the gun into the air, driven by pure panic. Instantly, the beast starts chasing me. I spot a log bridging a mountain river ahead. Quickly, I scramble across it. Once I'm on the other side, I shove the log into the foaming water below. The bear, panting heavily, reaches the river's edge, thinking I'm as good as gone... but has been overpowered in a moment by a strong flow! (Animals also do stupid actions, which had helped Homo Sapiens to dominate and put most of them into concentration camps.)
 I use another log and successfully come back to the «bodies». They found themselves alive – two blonde German females and one broken backpack with cans. The Germans were deathly frightened, but they had a sat-phone and strong legs, so we reached the central camp soon. Buddies in the camp stayed on duty all night. The bear did not come. I guess he badly hurt himself against the boulders.
 As to my dad, he reacted on the situation brainlessly, seeing me with the women:
 "My teen dude, he was not a bear, but a yeti the rapist, who captures students, on the first night a first girl, then a second one, and a little boy in end, just for the desert... So will junge Frauen share a safe sleeping bag with me?"
 I guessed he himself might be a yeti the rapist. Keeping my father away from their tent, I acted as girl's guard dog and watched the blondes sleep. I dreamt and dreamed of stealing kisses and hugs from those lanky bodies, two or better two thousand times. I even asked about it in the morning. Despite the local stereotypes, they declined with a promise of Berlin and dancing-nonromancing. Anyway, I believe the WOE-men were sincerely grateful. We became somewhat comrades. They left me their business cards and flew away on a helicopter the next day.
 I lost those cards later.
 While desire is here…>>

 THE GLOOMY room again, the same egg noodles, laid sofa and I’m alone. Hello, reality! I’ve called up a Spirit of Wi-Fi and start the CS cite, where <b>Millions of Couchsurfers Are Waiting to Meet You</b> Guests, to be honest, ain't always that exciting. The last one, a Swiss guy, even pissed on my sofa. Still I keep doing CS. Some animals make sounds when they are lonely...
 I FINGERED a PHONE out of the blanket and click-click upon the Summer's number.
 "Hey," - I was ready to eat the phone up, when I felt her radio-breath, - "Why don’t you text me?" 
 "Because you scare me all the time, a son of homophobes, an invador!" - I was imagining in the darkness her thin rosy trembling lips. Only these lips would take away my stress and despair. Again, almost for no reason I attack her:
 "Where were your kind-hearted volunteers, so keen for the Globe now, when the essential part of our civilization, the Soviets, collapsed? Back then, as a young boy, I was on the streets with my family, bracing for what felt like the end of the world..."
 "Do you believe your own words?", I hear the ultimate rejection in her voice, "liberate yourself from the propaganda!"
  "You know, I met an old lady in a cafe, and she asked me if I knew a Mr. Leon from France. I said, 'Yeah, sure I do!' 'Send him my love and kisses and let him know I'm still alive!' She smiled back with a toothless smile. I have absolutely no clue who Mr. Leon from France is... Maybe he had too much freedom in his life... Maybe you're my Mr. Leon, are you?"
 "Leave me alone with those disgusting stories, please!"
 She hangs up a call. Cut off. Terminated.

 ... and I s(n)ail away from it into the streets of

S           S          S           S          S           S
   N          N         N           N          N         N
      O           O        O           O           O         O
        W          W       W          W            W       W

 There are frozen drops of something that had been water everywhere. I went to the Baikal lake by a little bus MARSHERUTKA(trying not to think about Summer), rented skates there and (trying not to think about Summer) stepped on the ice surface. Lake in a cold time looks like a space-launch complex of ice and mountains (and it tries to think about Summer too), so I just tried to think less about Summer (Summering to stop about my thinking)… 
 Suddenly I GOT AN SMS:

    "We break. I'm sure that my grandpa Rick WAS REAL
                and he's coming back using today's
                asteroid whatever-you-called-it!
             I'LL COME BACK TO MY FAMILY soon! Trop!

          Not yours,
                Summer-Eva-Elfie"

  She broke up with me first!
  In despair, I sprinted deep into the cold mountains...
  I stumbled there upon a big cave. CAVE - the very word breathed mystery! I jupmed into it and saw a lot of valuable items laying there in the dark. A hall of rocks contained an old mummy, probably a Chinese princess' mummy, also her belonings and cutlery and stuff, all covered in old characters. Feeling deeply sorry for all of those sceintific findings, I just dicided to...
 Destroy them, burn them one by one!.. To do so, I've set the cave on fire (all Russians posses a magic lighter in their smartphones), smouldering drywood and fir-needles from the cave's recesses. When fire were consuming the hall, I burried the entrance of the cave with some boulders and fresh snow to be sure it's been sealed and dead forever.
 Nothing would stop my faith in Mother Russia now!
 I would destroy anything that contradicts my theories!
 Because I'm the only one native in this land and it's MY LAND.
 Let the Winter and the Fire reign here!
 Not Summer.
 Not her, please.

 THAT VERY NIGHT, after all my wanderings, I visited my READ-head friend Vlad (my ALTER-PREGO?). He was sitting in front of the TV, but he had just turned it off. Vlad had been watching a cartoon called Rick and Morty. I did not want to watch it with him, because I'd already seen the series. It was too bad. It reminded me my own morbid reality!
 "Vlad, I just wished to have opened Russia for her and healed her issues with some magic of Siberia!"
 "It's all over, anyway! I feel it'd be very good to focus on yourself first. I love those times to completely think only of myself and my interests. I forget other people exist, a true hermit, aka Henry David Thoreau!.."
 While Vlad went on comforting me with his chatting, a 2016-WF9-Interior streaked across the sky above us and tangled with night shining clouds. Perhaps at least it was destined to explode into the new life...
 I was sorry Summer could not see that.
 Did she feel though?
 Did she love me a bit?
 Just for a moment, maybe...

////////////////
O
 O
  O
   O
    O
     O
      O
       O
        O
         O
________###________


 *Harry Potter and Anna Karenina (a novel by Summer Smith)
 "Everything was in confusion on the Oblonsky Drive. Dudley Dursley-Oblonsky rumored ties to a French teen governess, known for her tales, especially the one where 'women lay with the Others in the Long Siberian Nights to sire terrible half-human children'..." (then illegible)


 2017. THE END