Julia Rudenko - I am your woman!

• Название: I am your woman!
• Автор: Julia Rudenko
• Жанр: Современные любовные романы

The novel «I am your woman!» was written in Krasnodar and Moscow. It is about the fate of modern military men. On the background of disorder there develop such social diseases as bribery, corruption. Honesty of main heroes – Dasha Sviridenko and Alexander Garov – draws them closer to each other in this chaos. They try to understand if they really love each other. But their feelings are so timid and unprotected that Dasha and Sasha are at a loss for they can’t overcome other people’s «interests».

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Chapter 7

The rhythm of time came out of the hospital staff lounge distinctly and monotonously. The ward-door was ajar. Dasha Sviridenko hated the rest-time since childhood, since her mother had to take her out of the day-nursery because she was constantly ill. She wasn’t asleep alone in the ward. She tried to plan beforehand the forthcoming mysterious event – the sacrament of the childbirth. Sometimes she took her knitting-needles – the panties were nearly ready.

The clock struck four, when the bottom of her stomach became unusually wet. There was no pain but Dasha got frightened. Perhaps her child was eager to be born. Dasha didn’t dare to wake up any of her ward-mates. She stood up in silence and hurried to the exit. According to her calculations there were 2 days left before the supposed date of confinement. An obstetrician nurse examined her lying in the armchair and shook her head:

– The amniotic fluid has gone. So you’ll bear drily.

To bear normally, without a Cesarean section was impossible for Dasha. 13 hours later Dasha exhausted by birth pangs and nearly unconscious was shown to the surgery. A medical brigade was sent for. Tatyana, a reanimation nurse who used to be Dasha’s classmate came up to her, tortured by numerous injections, and whispered tenderly:

– A good doctor will operate you! I told him: «Don’t cut our beauty too much!

Tatyana smiled and stepped aside.

– Well, where is your little vein? Do make a fist! – the anaesthesiologist said to Dasha flirting with one of the nurses. Almost all in the surgery knew they were lovers. Dasha also knew that. So it was nice for her to fall asleep surrounded with the fluids of secret love floating over her. She closed her eyes. The anaesthesiologist’s last words: «Dasha, count up to 10!» – sounded as if in the microphone, then dissolved like an echo in the mountains. She was smiling full of trust towards the doctor.The she fell asleep…

Though Cadet Sviridenko was preparing himself to the forthcoming change in his life, the telegram about it was all of a sudden for him. It came like a bolt from the blue. He was shocked. What to do? Where to go? What to speak and to whom? «Son born.» His son was born. HE… HAS …A SON!!! No! – can it be? Maybe it’s just a mistake. Is it real? Maybe, it’s merely a dream. Perhaps, some other man became a father. SON! He is a father now, isn’t he? What does it mean – father? What does it mean – son? It happens time and again. But could it happen with him. At that moment he was eager to be a free poet, to die young like Pushkin? And now he has a son! It’s time to write a cradle song – that’s what he must do! He went to the company commander. An hour later Cadet Sviridenko got a leave warrant for a day.

Arriving in Rostov, he headed for the local maternity hospital. But he wasn’t allowed to his wife. He wrote her a message and went to his mother-in-law. She cried nervously at him: «You’d better buy flowers! Daddy!».

Then he was silent – Dasha’s mother was calling the shots around:

– Wash your hands! Change!

He was exhausted by her commands completely. Why doesn’t she realize? His son was born! He became a father! Not she!

When she was ironing diapers hurriedly to carry them to the maternity hospital as soon as possible and asked him to do something again he threw on his jacket and was off. Cadet Sviridenko spent a night under the hospital windows. The words of a cradle song occurred to him. He wrote them down on a sheet of paper.

In the morning he returned to his military school. «I have a son!».

Chapter 8

Malcovich met Major Smirnov during the Afghan war. But he wasn’t sure if he could rely on him. Nevertheless, Malcovich couldn’t invent anything better. So Andrei phoned his old chum and told him what had happened. Asked him to appear in court in Mozdok as a witness.

After that Smirnov grew very gloomy, as black as thunder. Well, a pretty kettle of fish! Malcovich lived easier. Neither wife nor children! Free as a bird. But Smirnov couldn’t afford risking. Malcovich was in the soup now, Smirnov could be as well. Smirnov has a whale of problems himself. Everybody is stealing arms now, concealing and transporting illegally! But it was absolutely idiotic of Malcovich to be caught in such a way. «Well, Malcovich, Malcovich, a smart man! But sometimes a silly ass!».

Garov noticed at once Smirnov get grim.

– What’s wrong?

– Of course, all is wrong! That bloody Malcovich, damn it! «Carrying arms to the commandant’s office!» – He dared say so in the militia! Couldn’t invent anything better? «Smirnov, do come and help me, please! I beg you! Save me! I’ll remember it forever! If we sell the arms we’ll share the money fifty-fifty». Fico to him! And if I don’t go what’s then?!

– Don’t worry, Major! Is it impossible to say in court Malcovich was really transporting the arms to us?!

– So you’ll tell it, won’t you?! Right? Bloody genius you are! The cleverest man I’ve ever seen! Don’t be silly! – Smirnov was walking to and fro, took things and put them back. He couldn’t concentrate. At last he sat by Garov with his hands upon his knees. – OK. Perhaps you are right. You will go to Mozdoc. Tomorrow.

It was a turning point in Garov’s life. MALCOVICH NEVER FORGOT THOSE WHO ONCE HELPED HIM…

Malcovich and Garov came back from Mozdok to the Northern airport together. Malcovich’s joy was exuberant. Garov was happy too that their affair came off.

Their optimism was quite contagious. A bottle of Stolichnaya appeared by itself on the table in the commandant’s office. Then came red caviar, balyk (salted fish) and lard. Svetlana laid the table with great energy. She cut the bread, then found wineglasses somewhere – perhaps, asked the hostel lodgers.

So the whole company sat at a festive table. Of course, one of the toasts was in honour of the deceased soldiers and officers. Then kept silent in respect. Then talked a bit.

Two officers’ wives, or the dekabrists’ wives as they were called here, came on the sly from the hostel and joined the company.

Malcovich was eloquent and fascinated everybody. Another bottle of vodka came, then a third one. And at 3 – «the dekabrists» themselves…

Then it turned out one of the officer’s wives was absent. And Malcovich vanished too. So her husband – company lieutenant Puzanov – went to his room in the hostel so that to tell his beloved wife – a blonde with the looks of Monroe – that he’d arrived. But He didn’t find her in bed sleeping sweetly. Puzanov decided to rejoin the company.

On his way he wanted to piss. At first he was about to do it outdoors but then changed his mind and turned right in the long corridor…

Then he wished he had left the hostel!

But the devil or so made him enter the john with the letter «M» on the door. Opening that damned door he saw a broad man’s back that enclosed the window. Two naked legs embraced the back. The broad-backed man was breathing frequently. His trousers fell lower and lower for he was moving in rhythm.

Puzanov got interested in all this. He wasn’t modest or tactful at all. He didn’t leave the john., but entered the cabin and made a piss. Then he heard the woman’s orgastic moan. Puzanov was amused with it. He went out of the cabin in high spirits. Puzanov was going to tell those at the festive table about the picant scene.

The door slammed behind his back… And Puzanov stood petrified.

A handbag! A handbag lay on the floor! No woman in the hostel had it but his wife! He had bought it for her in a boutique in St.Petersburg! Oh, shit! So it was she – there, in the john, on the dirty window-sill, with naked legs around the broad back!

Puzanov was struck by cruel truth. «Bloody bitch!» – he thought. «Bitch!» – he said aloud. «Bitch!» – he cried at the top of his voice. Puzanov opened the john door, came up to his wife who was dressing. And not seeing Malcovich Puzanov said to her face: «You bitch!» Then he turned on his heels and rushed to the commandant’s office.

The next morning everybody knew about the night event. Puzanov complained his friend Nikishov. Then Nikishov was discussing with Ryzhov with great gusto what Puzanov had to do, then told carelessly to his wife about the whole affair, but ordered her strictly not to divulge the secret. She swore on her honour but to be friends with Verka is much more important.

So it began. The rumours spread around. Verka told Tan’ka, Tan’ka told her husband… The Puzanovs were quite encircled with gossips. But Puzanov didn’t put up with the role of a cuckolded. Once he gave a lift to the commandant’s secretary – a long-legged Oksana… He took her right in the car, summersaulting, for five times or a bit more. Again he told Nikishov – now about his success. Nikishov – to Ryzhov. Rumours again. But the Puzanovs didn’t divorce.

Chapter 9

Dasha recovered of a heart-rending woman’s shriek next door. Looked around. On the cot near her there lay a man.Some ugly yellow liquid was pouring down in the pipe coming out of his blankets right into the bucket. Dasha touched carefully her belly under the blanket. It was even again! A cold hot-water bottle below. But higher?! Nor bandage, nor plaster. How were they taking her baby out? Oh, god! What’s with him? With her son? Or daughter? She was afraid to ask anyone. Truly, there was no one to ask.

It was dark outside – so it was night. It began dripping under the bed. Dasha managed only to lift her blanket a bit. As she saw there was also a pipe descending from her body into the bucket as that from the man nearby.

Then a nurse with a syringe in her hand entered the ward. She rolled back the brim of Dasha’s blanket and rubbed her leg a little higher the knee with a piece of cotton wool. Then she made an injection. Dasha gave a short cry.

The nurse went out. Dasha had no time to ask about her baby. It was the anaesthesiologist who told Dasha about her child. He came to see his patient in the morning. Before Dasha saw her baby, red and wrinkled, the obstetrician started massaging her breasts. Her cold hands went lower and lower, and she crumpled so strong as if she wasn’t a human being at all but just a big piece of dough. And it was a bit humiliating. Indeed, Dasha felt herself a sort of dough, an orange being squeezed. It hurt very much, but she had no desire to cry. She restrained herself.

– Put on a gown and go to the maternity section, – the nurse said when leaving.

On her way out of the reanimation Dasha touched the lower part of her belly. The ex-class-mate didn’t cheat her: the surgeon made a tiny horizontal cut.

The space that drew her together with her husband, mum, girl-friends widened immensely when she put her baby – that clod of blankets and diapers – closer to her bright-red nipples. The child sucked them greedily, sipped milk stronger and stronger. At last he was sate.

«My darling! I don’t let anyone offend you».

A cockroach ran across the bed near Dasha. So she didn’t switch off the light so that the insects didn’t alarm her baby.

Chapter 10

It seemed Malcovich would be always lucky. Next morning he, Smirnov and Garov managed to sell the arms. Smirnov striked it off the register as unfit. Malcovich promised his friends to open an account in a bank for each of them and put a biggish sum to each.

– Garik, do you have children?

– No, just married.

– Where’s your wife? Why didn’t you take her here?

– To this rat-place?! Besides, she can’t leave her job —she won’t find any then, – said Sasha sorrowfully.

Rats as if hearing they were told of began rustling at the round walls of the commandant’s office. One of them got out of the hole and smelled the air. Perhaps, it felt the scent of fried cutlets cooked by Svetlana on a small electric stove a little bit earlier. Smirnov took off his gin as quietly as he could and shot. Yes, he hit it. A minute later, a huge black smooth dog D… har came and carried away the killed rat. Smirnov blew into the gun’s muzzle in a film-like manner and put it aside:

– Garik’s wife is too soft. Not like my Svetka! Through fire and water she’ll get to me! Absolutely fearless!

– I see you like when she comes all of a sudden whether you’re unfaithful to her or not.

– Let it be! All the same she won’t know! Even if she does she won’t leave me. Alone with children?

– That ensign-woman is pretty enough! Very sexy! – Malcovich said baring his white even teeth.

– Hold your tongue! Steady on! – as if jealous Smirnov grasped his gun.

– Well, you can fight as much as you want. But I wash my hands and take off! – Garov said.

– But who on earth will be my second at the duel? – Smirnov asked laughing.

– I’d rather check the soldiers. I gave them a task – to clean up the bathhouse and under the awning. It’s terrible there you know. In brief, the soldiers are making the order.

– That’s right of yours. Do go and control. – Smirnov paused, waited till Garov closed the door. Then turned to Malcovich.

– He is so gloomy, that fellow Garov. Bored. Melancholic as they say. Still makes love with wife only. Too faithful! Wants to be good and honest all the time! But it’s too hard!

– Don’t be so pitiful! We’ll help him as much as we can. OK? – Malcovich winked to Smirnov slyly. – By the by, I have a plan. Look!

Andrei took a Parker ink-pen, seized a clear blank-form from the table and began drawing circles on it.

– Here is the Centaur Development Firm. – Malcovich began. – It was to fulfill some construction works in the port of Eysk. But the deadline came and very little was done. It had no time to finish «em on time. Now this firm’s on the verge of bankruptcy. But I’ll come to the firm’s customer and pay with promissory notes what the Centaur didn’t do. As you can guess the Centaur owe me now! I give the Centaur some time to make profits. In a year this firm will return me this sum plus interest. Or it will build me a villa at the sea-side. So let’s «build the port»? Let’s try? Let’s risk? It’s a bonanza! – Malcovich pushed Smirnov slightly with his shoulder.

But Smirnov wasn’t enthusiastic about it:

– I’m sure you will. And I? We’re to shoot all these bloody bastards here in Grozny. Till the end I think.

– It doesn’t matter. – Malkovich continued his speech with great gusto. – I have a friend of mine. She is a sort of deputy chief of УКС. She’s already signed some papers. Now with her help I’ll clear off the debt of УКС to the depositors of share-building. The УКС owe me! In a year or two I’ll demand flats from them to clear off their debt. You need a flat or not, Vadim Gennadievich?! Or perhaps you’re waiting when the State rewards you for your excellent service?! Who’ll give your children a house to live in, a roof over their heads? Where are they, by the way?

– In Stavropol, in the hostel. With a room-mate.