Part One – There
(Eastern Hemisphere)
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT – THE FIRST SEMESTER AND ITS SURPRISES
I’m returning back to the “chronicle”.
“Still, it’s a pity that summer is over, summer is over…
Time flies – you can’t stop it, true, it’s like a rover…” Kukin sang with a guitar.
Natalie and I went to the seaside and had returned to our own cities and republics. It was time for her to go to work, and for me to go back to a student’s desk. The medical school was awaiting for me.
First, I went to Izya to thank him again for his enormous support and advice. Izya’s family had just returned from their summer dacha. The youngest son Dima extended his hand to me and said,
“Hello, Uncle Nick Neiman! Are you a doctor now?”
I almost fell from the surprise! The “mute” child spoke! Miracle!
But everyone considered my admission to medical school a miracle. Because they didn’t know such examples or because they knew the details of the technique. I considered the result natural and fair, and nothing more. In the end, many good boys and girls were admitted along with me, although there were many, whom I would not have accepted.
There were no lectures on September 1-st. The fresh students were congratulated by the Vice-Rector for Academic Affairs, Professor Avaliani, calling them the pride of the nation, golden youth. “However,” said the Vice-Rector, thereby making it clear that the greeting had political overtones. It was customary to gild everything, and then note “minor, isolated, negligible flaws.” That’s what the professor did.
“However, despite the vigilance of the selection committee, certain unworthy elements managed to penetrate into the ranks of the best, but believe me, their days within these walls are numbered!”
The devil knew who he meant, but no one believed him, did not listen and did not pay attention to his pompous words.
What struck me on the first day was that the students introduced themselves and, after finding out their first and last names, asked each other,
“Who are your parents?”
I don’t remember anyone at the university physics department being interested in this. Here this question was the third point of the questionnaire. Nobody asked me anything, everyone already knew what kind of “fruit” I was. In addition, my private students who entered with me created good advertising for me.
I was planning to resign from the Polytechnic Institute and recruit new penguins for this academic year. I must say that I did not have any problems in these two issues. At work, the whole laboratory of us: Denis, Vartan Isaevich’s nephew, Zalessky, and laboratory assistant Pasha went with our dear chef Petrovich to a restaurant and celebrated my two years in a friendly company. And the penguins, having heard about my exploits, were eager to become my students without any recommendation.
The post office brought me a parcel with a note, “To my show-off, wear it for your health!” and a Marlboro windbreaker jacket that fits in a fist – a gift from Nataly. It was contraband that sailors brought into the country through the ports of the merchant fleet, in this case through Odessa.
I must say that the jacket contributed to making acquaintances at the medical institute. Of course, I was interested in beautiful and smart girls, especially Jewish origin, but the eleven-year difference in that age range was the main obstacle. They were still children! I studied with yesterday’s schoolchildren, and the difference in life experience erected a barrier between us. I remember how many years later, discussing with one of my course mates Dominique Aury’s novel “The Story of O” from a medical point of view, I remarked,
“Then you were children… What would I talk to you about?”
“Of course. In those days, I would rather play with dolls than talk about sex,” she agreed.
It seemed a little strange to me when I remembered my girl-classmates, but I looked at them through the eyes of a peer, and at my course mates through the eyes of a teacher and a lecturer…
One way or another, I went to lectures at the Medical School (Institute), after which I didn’t hang around the streets or drink wine with the youngsters, but ran home to give lessons to my penguins, and then prepare lessons for tomorrow’s seminars at Medical School. I had to memorize a lot of names and information.
The first subject to memorize was anatomy. I was memorizing all the Russian and Latin names, drew pictures of bones and dissected corpses. Those who consider this “terrible” are deeply mistaken: bodies immersed in formaldehyde for years are no longer corpses, but anatomical preparations, more like mummies made of wood than muscle mass. Students soon get used to the smell of formaldehyde, taking pictures with their preparations, lovingly calling them Vasya or Gogi, and even having snacks right in the anatomy room.
The teacher in our group was a lean woman, a former military doctor, Arutyunova, who was old enough to be a grandmother to my groupmates. I note that there were a lot of old staff at the anatomy department. Arutyunova immediately warmed up to me as to an adult and conscientious student and teaching colleague (in our city information spread quickly). She herself came to work at the medical institute late and advised me to immediately begin writing a PhD on anatomy.
In September or October, a professor of anatomy from the First Moscow Medical Institute came to our institute. Arutyunova introduced me to him as an unusual student and told him my story.
“How did you manage to do this?” he asked.
“I tried around the clock,” I said, omitting the details of my nightly efforts.
He looked at me incredulously.
“Congratulations, young man! This is a unique achievement in our conditions! In the capital, this would not have happened in principle – your documents would never have been accepted, and you would not have been allowed to participate in the competition, no matter how hard you tried.”
Arutyunova nodded vigorously – she knew well the history of unique achievements in our conditions…
In the dean’s office, the dean, Nina Petrovna Kvintadze, called me over, the same woman who smoked next to me during the Russian language exam,
“Well, did my cigarettes help you?” she joked.
I assured her that, thanks to them, I was able to write the essay without errors, and now I am her debtor for any cigarettes.
“Study well! This is your duty,” she said.
I did just that, and she, in turn, acted outside the box, as she had done all her life. When I passed her subject – pathological anatomy with excellent marks, Nina Petrovna called me to the department that she headed and suggested,
“You are not a boy, why do you need years of study? I am ready to enroll you as a graduate student in my department right now. I need biophysicists, defend your dissertation in three years, and then we’ll think about it.
Gosh! I didn’t have this for the completed happiness! I assured her that my goal was to become a treating physician. She frowned disapprovingly and said:
“Let’s go to a conference on modern cytology in Kutaisi, see for yourself the level of modern pathological anatomy.”
I went there. I was curious to explore Kutaisi and attend the conference. Indeed, it was a meeting at the modern level.
Many pathologists and cytologists from large centers of the country came in large numbers, there were many interesting reports and behind-the-scenes conversations. We were given a tour of the city and a banquet in a restaurant. The toastmaster was the chairman of the conference, Professor Kvintadze, who raised a final toast to our hosts, four local doctors, who hospitably treated in restaurant all conference participants today. The men bowed modestly but with dignity to the applause of the guests.
“Did you like it, Neiman?” Nina Petrovna asked me in the hotel lobby.
“Yes,” I answered honestly, “And I even see in what cytological research mathematics and physics could be applied, but I still refuse graduate school, and I will not be able to combine study, work and scientific research.”
“It’s a pity,” said the head of the department, “I need youth… Talented youth! But I respect your decision. Know that life is much more complicated than you think. Help is easy to reject, but how one can deal with obstacles and injustice alone? Quite recently, in the summer of your admission, one influential person hoped to discover many extra commas in the essay of a certain applicant and, as a result, an unsatisfactory grade for the examination paper. But the room turned out to be so smoky that it was impossible to see the extra commas…
The heat rushed to my face,
“Worthy teachers produce worthy students! The smoke clears, but the truth remains!”
Nina Petrovna also blushed, perhaps from wine drank,
“Study well, Neiman!” she wished me her farewell.
The autumn holidays (October Revolution) were approaching. I studied and taught, and also corresponded with Natalie in full. We discussed the possibility of meeting – her mother with granddaughter were leaving for the holidays to relatives. And I decided to flight on these days to Odessa. What can I say…? They flew by like a minute, we reveled in freedom and communication.
Nataly’s friends and acquaintances envied her happiness that came out of nowhere. I’m even embarrassed to remember how many intimate proposals I received from beautiful women while dancing at holiday parties during the two or three days of the holidays. As if we were celebrating not the October Revolution, but the Sexual Revolution! They whispered,
“Would you like to try another dish? Do you think that only your Nataly has one little thing?”
I could have reveled in the unprecedented possibilities, but one thought darkened my joy – my relationship with Natalie was a swan song, and she knew it. I explained to her my worldview and all the mechanics of my medical campaign. She understood me and was not offended…
Dasha, the only one of Natalie’s friends, did not make any proposals to me. She was generally a modest woman, and besides, she was courted by a handsome guy who she liked. But one day she started talking to me about fate,
“Of course, a person is the master of his own destiny, but also of the fate of others. And they, in turn, vice versa.”
“What do you mean by this?”
“After the divorce, I fell into depression. I went to a psychiatrist for a consultation, and he advised me to take all the joys from life, not to refuse sex to anyone, and offered himself first. I believed him and lived with him for some time. Then he found a new patient for this, and I felt completely sick. And then I found out from my employee Nadia that a friend from Tbilisi, Nick, came to visit her boyfriend, Igor. I remembered you well from Nataly’s wedding, how you were the toastmaster and what beautiful toasts you gave. And I called Igor at home to talk to you. Grandma picked up the phone and sternly asked who was calling. I got scared and called myself Nataly.”
What a twist! I clearly remembered wondering, why Natalie would call me? And then he waved his hand, took flowers, wine and went to visit.
“Did you tell Natalie about this?”
“I told her later, after your departure home, but your romance was already in progress. We agreed to come to you in the summer, just when you were taking your exams.
“It was an unforgettable summer! To be honest, on the first night the idea came to me to visit you in another room, but Natalie would have been offended.”
“You know,” said Dasha, “I really wanted you to come in, but… on one condition – if Natalie told you the whole backstory of my call. Otherwise, no! All these orgies lead to nothing good.”
I kissed Dasha on the cheek and wished her happiness with her boyfriend. And so it happened.
And I flew home full of pleasant feelings and serious worries…
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