Guardian Angel. 1. 18. Death was Tomorrow

"A GUARDIAN ANGEL"
a mistical novel
by Alexandra Kryuchkova

PART I. A GUARDIAN

1.18. DEATH WAS TOMORROW

July 15, Monday morning,
Moscow, the hospital,
on the eve of hospitalization


Alice arrived at the hospital for the results of the first surgery, went to the reception window, said her surname. She was handed a paper. Alice’s hands trembled involuntarily, she was afraid of turning it over, because the result was written on the reverse side. Alice left the hospital, walking slowly to the bus stop. Finally, she turned the paper over. She read four lines of medical terms, but understood nothing. Alice dialed her cousin, who had never become a surgeon but worked with so called «crazy» people.

The cousin cheerfully greeted Alice, listened to those four lines and joyfully delivered her verdict, «Well, relax! And how do you sleep at night?»

«On the right side,» Alice exhaled.

«Breath it out already! Just a little bit left!»

«Just a little bit, that’s for sure,» flashed through Alice’s mind.


***
the Union of Writers


Alice came to the House of Serving to Creativity. The Woman ran up to her and joyfully exclaimed, «Bulgaria has approved our festival project! We’ll fly out on the 1st of August, in the morning!»

«Without me,» Alice sighed.

«Alice! No time to get sick! Who will organize the festival? There’s no way back! And what a sea, what the Sun is there!»

«I can’t go neither to the sea nor in the Sun!»

«Well, you’ll sit in the shade, like a secret organizer! You’ll breathe the sea air. This is also good for health! This trip will mobilize your strength. The doctors can say everything, but it’ll work out for you in the best way! If the surgery is rescheduled for the 23rd, you’ll arrive a little later, for example, on August 5. Now let’s urgently apply for your visa! I’m on my way to book tickets and buy insurance!»

«A feast during the plague,» Alice thought sadly.


***
the Hematology Center on Dynamo


In the afternoon, Alice went to the Hematology Center and received the results of liver biochemistry. Everything was normal. She found the Professor V. and gleefully handed him over the results of the ultrasound and blood tests.

«Great, excellent, wonderful,» the Professor murmured and smiled, «By the way, I’m a poet, too!»

«Professor,» Alice breathed in relief, «Let me remind you, I need your permission for the surgery!»

«Permission? No, I can’t give it to you! You’re a poetess. I’m a poet. Poets should live long!»

«What do you mean?! I’m leaving for the hospital tomorrow!»

«No. You see, I thought you had liver problems, but in fact… the prothrombin index is at zero, while your liver is in order. So it turns out that at least one of the 13 blood clotting factors is clearly below the standard. This means that your blood won’t stop during the surgery, and there will be one poet less on the Earth!»


***
evening, a literary party
at «Alibi» club-coffeehouse


Alice arrived at a literary party in the coffeehouse. Her mood was nowhere worse. Her surgery was still the next day. U called her, but Alice didn’t answer the call, since nothing had changed. She went on stage, reported the latest news, invited those present to the 11th Tsvetaeva’s Bonfire in Elabuga and announced the Free Microphone competition. The poets began to recite in turn, one by one. Some people constantly came up to Alice’s table, asking something. She answered automatically. Her astral body, the soul, was rushing inside the locked cage of her physical body. It happens when you know something that you can’t change.

Suddenly, a dark person, being obviously ill with cold, landed at Alice’s table and splashed out his negativity, interspersing an ardent speech about another world-wide conspiracy theory with obscene words and loud sneezing. Alice tried her best to end the conversation, but in vain.

The poets finished reciting. Alice announced the results of the popular vote, awarded the winners with diplomas and closed the evening with her farewell poem.

My soul is brave but sad — it feels
the trouble in advance.
«If I return one day on Earth,
then where will I go?»

A gentle glance will touch the past,
I’m tearing the fringe.
«If I return from God on Earth,
to whom will I return?»

The cherished star, a brand new one,
is whispering to you,
«If for a reason I return,
I’ll be a different one.»

The poets were leaving one by one. The lights in the coffeehouse were switched off.

Alice went outside, turned on her phone and slowly walked towards the subway. Suddenly, she heard a sound of a message. Someone had called her from an unknown number. Alice called back reluctantly, feeling that she was getting sick, her throat was already tickling. However, she heard a joyful voice on the phone, «Alice! I’ve managed to move you to the 23rd! So, will you come?»