Margie Fillin - My Dear Bitch. V#2 An Unwelcome Person

Editor / Publisher Oleg Lubske

Photoeditor Ann Water

Photographer Andrias Mara

Photographer Alejandro Avila

Photographer Timur Saglambilek

© Margie Fillin, 2019

ISBN 978-5-4493-4756-5 (т. 2)

ISBN 978-5-4493-4634-6

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Wedding Rings. Photo by Alejandro Avila

– Thank you so much for my favorite ball, guys. I’ve already lost any hope to catch it in the wavy ocean, – a tall, shapely, fair-haired stranger ran up to me and sincerely thanked for the ball.

I was a little bit surprised when this young-looking American woman suddenly appeared in front of me. The curly playful waves brought the big bright ball directly to my hands from the ocean just less than a minute before. I couldn’t imagine that the next minute the owner of the ball would be standing in front of me and smiling. Of course, I gave her the big bright ball back at once.

– So, huge waves and such strong wind from the ocean today, – the young woman continued the conversation. – My light ball flew off the ground so unexpectedly, and the wind brought it to the ocean so quickly that I couldn’t get it after my continuous attempts. I can’t leave my mom alone for a long time at the shore. Look, she is sitting there in the beach-chair, can you see her?

I nodded to the nice stranger.

– I used to come here, to Zuma Beach pretty often. I am from Beverly Hills. I love this beach in Malibu. Do you like this place? – She asked me politely.

– Yes, I love Zuma, too. It’s fantastic, this wonderful place gives me a lot of positive energy and the ocean calms me down, – I answered.

She joined me and my son, and we were slowly strolling along the ocean shore. Slightly wet and hard sand crunched and left the holes under our feet. The warm fresh salty ocean wind didn’t bother us at all anymore. We were led away by our vivid conversation.

– Oh, hold, hold your little hat on, it can fly away like my ball, – the friendly pretty woman caught my flirtatious little straw hat that slowly fell down from my head.

– Thank you, – I answered and smiled. – I and my son thought that, probably, some children lost such a beautiful, extremely colorful ball. We were going to bring it to the lifeguards.

– Where are you from, guys? You have so nice light and sexy accent, – she wondered.

– From Russia, from Saint-Petersburg.

– Wow! You don’t look Russian at all. I thought you were from Europe. And how long have you been here?

– Two years and a half.

– Do you like it?

– Yes, very much. – I looked at her face and smiled again.

– I have never been to St. Petersburg, but I know you have the Hermitage there, and I’ve watched several documentaries about your stunning city. You know, a lot of Russian-speaking people live and work here, especially in Santa Monica. Recently I worked with some Russians -very smart and well-educated people.

The young woman got excited.

– Have you ever been to Santa Monica? And to Beverly Hills? – She asked me a question by question, I liked her inquisitiveness.

– Yes, sure. We’ve been there many times. We love travelling and opening new places for ourselves. By the way, I married in Beverly Hills.

– You married there? It’s amazing. An American guy in Beverly Hills? Well, I never! And where did the wedding ceremony take a place?

– Oh, that wedding! – I smiled. – Formal procedure in the city hall. That’s all. And have you ever heard about traditional Russian wedding ceremonies and celebrations?

She shook her head.

– OK then, one day I’ll tell you about different Russian traditions. And now…

I started to hum a popular Russian song “Wedding”. It is in the list of so called “The best of Russian modern classic”.

Then I briefly told her what the song was about. The American grasped the main point of the lyrics at once, and she was very much impressed by me.

In a few minutes she conducted enthusiastically, and I was impressed by her talent. She repeated after me, word by word, some words from the song in Russian: “Svat’-ba, svat’-ba… pe-la i pli-sa-la…», “mes-ta ma-la…” ( 1 1 “Wedding, wedding… (They) sang and danced…, (there was) not enough room…” aka One, two, three…)

We sang it together and unexpectedly started dancing; we stopped for a moment and burst out laughing.

– Oh, now I know, I know! My favorite ball… – she sighed, – it flew away because it was not enough room for it, either in the sky or on the ground. The same is with Russian weddings: No space is enough as Russians love to celebrate it in a big way. I’ve got it!

This way I acquainted with Joy, a very optimistic, cheerful violinist, who madly loved the life and the whole world surrounding her. She worked at one of the Los Angeles orchestras, and, as well as for the other musicians, most of her life she was touring America and Canada.

Joy was very curious about everything concerning music. After listening to the song “Wedding” and watching the video “Ferris Wheel” on YouTube, my new American friend at once and forever fell in love with the creative works of one of the greatest Russian singers Muslim Magomaev.

– Vika, such a delightful, fantastic, unique baritone. Look at his pics! He was a handsome and so talented person. You know, I have an idea. Let’s go to Santa Monica to an American ferris wheel and sing there his “Ferris Wheel”, okay?

– Let’s go, Joy. – I accepted her suggestion.

So, on a sunny Saturday afternoon I and Joy went to the well-known Ferris wheel in Santa Monica.

We both were in a very good mood and spent some time together walking around the city and shopping a little bit. In the evening, we took a ride on the Ferris wheel and merrily sang some couplets from another Russian song “Ferris Wheel”. We were in the cabin high above the Pacific Ocean and Joy showed some progress in learning Russian. She surprised me because she sounded great.

– Look, at the sky! We are flying between the stars and ocean and singing the love songs; we are screaming “Love you!” – the stars will hear us, and the real love will, definitely, come to your life and to mine. You’ll see, Vika!

When we left Ferris wheel, two young guard-men asked what the song was about and romantic Joy answered proudly:

– About Love, guys!

It was getting dark and cool, and after having a cup of hot coffee latte in the nearest Starbucks we slowly went back to the parking lot where Joy had left her car.

– I wonder, Vika. Did anyone sing in your American wedding ceremony?

Joy surprised me with her question.

– Except the birds, – I joked.

Joy laughed.

– I remember, I twittered like a bird repeating word by word the wedding oath after the representative of municipality, who was assigned to marry us. And can you imagine, Joy, instead of “my lawful husband” I said “my awful husband.” Little did I know…

– What? Unbelievable! – Joy exclaimed in bewilderment.

– I couldn’t hear the letter “l” in the beginning of the word “lawful”. It was because of my excitement and agitation. I could hear just “awful”. I felt a possible mistake, but the proper word didn’t come to my mind.