***

Now, the ezzha in the car on streets of Moscow, Emmanuel looked out of the car window, and having put out from side to a door of an open window the head, she felt inflow of joy and happiness from striking its face of the prankish wind. It demolished its hairpin from hair, and her beautiful hair as if under wind blew on playful, naughty wind. Well! Perfectly! Remarkably! Emmanuel did not feel such violent joy and euphoria of happiness for a long time. Whether yes she felt this joy? Joy of freedom and life? Probably not. She worked all life on the government. And there what happiness of life? Only work, work, and once again work. There you do not even marry still appropriate authorities will not check you for professional suitability. For them their work this second Gestapo. God forbid to miss the spy, for all life you will not be washed. However all the rest – is fine. Perfectly. Have a rest I do not want. Emmanuel having pulled in the head in salon of a car-TAXI, Emmanuel told:

– What beauty! – she Emmanuel pronounced these words with admiration and envy. With white envy. She never before saw such beauty. Old Moscow. What beautiful it is Moscow. There is Bulgakovsky Arbatsky Lane. The lane where the Master got acquainted with Margarita. He carried flowers in hands, and having presented them Margarita, she told: "I do not like these flowers". She threw them on asphalt and went down the street, and the Master, having lifted flowers, followed for it. Love. The love between Master and Margarita flashed suddenly. And not that suddenly, and in that second as the Master saw Margarita. Pure, serene love. Love which lasted so not for long, and so long. It is possible to tell eternally. In general, it is possible to speak about this work by Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov eternally. Nobody will come to the general opinion on the one who was according to Bulgakova Margarita? Priests of church claim that Margarita sold soul to the Devil of "VOLANDU". Therefore it was unworthy according to priests – light. As for – the master, he was unworthy too light as went after Margarita. But whether so it? I consider that Master as well as Margarita were worthy light. But. Always is – but. The master, was isolated from society in psychiatric hospital. Will you tell why I so think? The answer is simple. Remember when the Master came to other chamber where the writer Bezdomny lay, he in the course of the conversation told: "I have no place to go", and then on the question asked Bezdomny: "where you met it?". Received the answer: "on Patriarchal ponds". he answered: "ah, if I met it again, I would show it". What can be told here? The master was in psychiatric hospital – on penal servitude. He was tormented there and operated. The majority them them was not maintained, and they died. Here from there is the one and only question: "what happened to the Master in psychiatric hospital it was real or already not?". There can be Bezdomny having gone crazy began to see ghosts? Perhaps. Nobody can answer this question directly, remember when Azazello destroyed the master and Margarita, it went only to Margarita, there nothing was told about the Master. And only, when Margarita in the apartment died, Bezdomny heard groan of the person behind a wall of the chamber. He then already knew that it the Master died. The master, without name and a surname. The person – the ghost. Without name and without … that without? The person – anybody. The person – the ghost, the person from nowhere. As for Margarita, it is about self-sacrifice here. Margarita offered herself for the sake of the beloved. It went to the transaction with Voland for the sake of the beloved. For the sake of the Master. She wanted to pull out it from this nightmare. A nightmare to which it got perhaps by the nonsense. Everything goes to lives, as well as in the novel the turn. We sacrifice ourselves for the sake of someone, and we reunite with them in heaven. Ability self-sacrifice for the sake of the native person – this highest extent of self-sacrifice. It is also rest: "he read the book". The apostle Matfey told. "he wants to present it rest". Voland asked: "why you do not take it to yourself, to the public?". Matfey told: "he did not deserve light, he deserved rest". Self-sacrifices, and then – rest. Rest – because we break the Lord's commandments. But I will tell about this work another time, now we will return to Emmanuel, Luda and Zhora. Where they now? They approached Patriarchal ponds. Patriarchal ponds, we come back to Bulgakov Moscow again. Again same work "MASTER AND MARGARITA". The place where Berlioz and Bezdomny, met Voland and his suite. Where Voland told the interlocutor about Pontius Pilate and Yahshuah Ganotsy. Patriarchal ponds – the place where this history began. Master and Margarita's history. The place – where everything began. Where Annushka poured oil where Berlioz got under the tram wheels. Where Bezdomny went mad, and running across Moscow for the foreigner Voland, came running in underpants to the house of writers, and having told about everything got to lunatic asylum where made it the diagnosis – schizophrenia. What Ivan Nikolaevich Bezdomny's foreigner on a bench on Patriarchal ponds warned about. It is a lot of secrets and legends store Patriarchal ponds. Who knows, can Patriarchal it is an entrance to something other? Mystical. Somehow time I sat on a bench at Patriarchal. Among the people passing there I sometimes wrapped the head as though someone looked at me, and I watched someone the leave afar. Perhaps, it is just my prejudices, and on Patriarchal I saw nobody, and can and is not present, and ghosts of old Moscow have a rest on Patriarchal here. Looking at ponds by the light of night lamps, it is possible to notice on water hardly noticeable floating boat, or boats. It seems anything special. But having got accustomed it is visible more attentively that there are no boats. These are it is simple their hidden outlines – the phantom as would tell now. Quietly water, a light air peacefully rustles as if the messenger to share gossips about last day on Patriarchal ponds with the trees growing nearby. They as if a gossip hotline carry between themselves all modern and modern histories ever occurred and occurring at present here, on Patriarchal. Zhora with the companions went on a path on patriarchal, and he for some reason felt ill at ease. It was captured by some fear, he felt that someone as if watches it and his companions. Someone's hidden look looked at it from far away. He looked afar, and felt how someone approaches them. Someone, obviously, very much did not want that they were present here. On his body ran a fever. He looked at women, and those saw that his face turned white. Turned white obviously for horror of the attendee here, on Patriarchal. Women felt it too. They felt how on their body ran a chill. Easy chill, but such dreadfully – ice that women having crossed hands on a breast, a polozh of a hand on hands, having looked around itself, and having felt cold which proceeded from water, having looked at each other, told Zhora:

– We feel ill at ease. – Luda having made a pause, took an interest. – To you the same?

Having recovered for slight fear of what he felt, Zhora trying not to give to women any look that to it it is terrible, asked:

– From what it, did you, take it?

It was absolutely clear to women that Zhora to be afraid of that cold that on Patriarchal was even worse, than they. And it was visible on his face which was more white white, white – as death.

Luda told:

– Yes you have all white face. – then she specified. – White – as death.

Zhora touched the person. It was valid cold. It seemed that the fear – integral from the person, captured it only. Now it seemed to Zhora that not he faces women and tells them about Bulgakov Moscow. About its novel "MASTER AND MARGARITA" not it tells It about it, it is the novel tells about itself(himself). Patriarchal ponds, present Clean Ponds. How many secrets are hidden by them? How many events took place there? How many still will be? We never learn it. Only the wind and loving couples sitting on benches at Patriarchal know that exactly here, among fallen leaves of trees, the dissatisfied janitor going with a broom always, ezzhushchy around Patriarchal ponds of the tram without number, and only with the one and only letter "A" which according to many inhabitants at the next houses is capable to disappear, and in the same second appearing on tram flights again, goes to uncertainty. To that Bulgakov Moscow where there lived the Master and his darling. In the work Margarita Bulgakov describes her as the mistress. But actually she was his wife. Agree, only really loving the person it is capable to sacrifice himself for the sake of other person. Zhora knew all this as well as knew all this his companions. Luda many times read this novel, and only after several of its readings she understood its final sense. Self-sacrifice – here the main sense of this work. Works, but not the work. Master and Margarita are two separately connected in common works. The first: Master and Margarita, and the second about Yahshuah Ganotsri and the Procurator of Judea. Two absolutely different stories, and at the same time such similar. Love, treachery, self-sacrifice, death. Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov also tried to inform of it us. Where we lived what we did. We always have to have courage to offer ourselves for the sake of … for the sake of what? Well to solve it to you. Each to their own. But we will return to Zhora, Luda and Emmanuel. On what did we leave them? And, here on what. On told Lyudmila: "yes you have all white face. White – as death". Zhora touched the person. It was valid cold. He with uncertain fear answered:

– Really?

– Yes. – confirmed Emmanuel having touched with the palm brush back his face. – You white as death.

Without knowing what to answer, Zhora having looked in eyes Emmanuel which were full of alarm, managed a smile which was similar to something unclear but only not even not to similarity of a smile rather, he told:

– Everything is all right. – then he kind of added to a consolation. – All this from local legends, you will tell whom and itself you will believe in it. – he made a pause, and then kind of purposely to himself and to prove to women that he the prejudices and legends which are not making any sense cheerfully told only all this:

– And what? Poorly here at least hour to stay!? You will see, to happen nothing. – it having made a pause, felt a cold fever on all the body, and then quickly added. – These are only prejudices, and only.

Women burst out laughing heartily. To spend on Patriarchal any time, and the whole night. Yes that night!? Now behind a fence the dividing tram ways from the road on which there were women now and listened to the story by Zhora what night, minute and was to spend on them not without that soul did not go to heels. All know "the MASTER AND MARGARITA", some people are in particular Muscovites, know much more legends about these ponds. Legends – fascinating soul and frightening terrifying narrations. But we will not be about mysticism so which. Moscow – full of riddles and mysticism – Moscow. What does she hide from us? What secrets are not revealed yet? Moscow – the land capital of mystical stories and its underground heritage. Heritage of ghosts of bygone days. Beginning from Yury Dolgorukov, to Nikolay the second. From Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov-Lenin, to Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev. And from the new President of Russia – Boris Nikolaevich Yeltsin … and Dalia. Maybe someone knows a little it secrets? Can do this FSB, and the police can just? Who knows? Moscow capital of Russia. Who knows how many at it secrets?

Luda nervously answered, trying not to give the fear of Emmanuel who also wanted to run away quickly from here and to return when the sun is in a zenith when there are people. Well people, though somebody.

– Yes that hour! – she told it is not well-cared with obvious a smile. She wanted to overcome the fear and to send it where far away. Having told at the same time itself: "here I what, am afraid of nothing. Fear? Yes it to me is not terrible. I wanted to sneeze on this fear. Fear it only auto-suggestion, and anything else. Just at first somehow it feel ill at ease. It feel ill at ease that you one, and around you just emptiness. This emptiness rushes into you, and sitting down on heart, and getting into a brain, gives the command to our consciousness which gives the command to subconsciousness that there in the dark someone or something is. We begin to depart back, inspiring in ourselves that it so it also is. There in the dark someone hid. Someone bears us the malice. And this evil approaches us closer and closer, trying to hook us. But, once itself tells that there is nothing, and having inhaled a full breast, to breathe a sigh of relief, everything disappears. To evaporate – as does not happen in anything. And we then laugh over by itself, and we speak to ourselves: – What we are fools. – here and the fear leaves. And on heart it is easy. So fear, it no other than auto-suggestion of the person to hopelessness of his situation, suppression of feelings and emotions happiness, and admission in heart a certain defect of hopelessness. At the same time fearing that it will become more than now. As occurs further. The fear captures us, and does not release already anywhere. And only the person is capable to overcome the fear, those demons that it inspires in us. And only then the person will find peace of mind. Only when he will meet the demons face to face, and will tell them: – Away. – Only then it will find peace of mind and harmony with with itself(himself)". – Luda knew all this. Knew more than ever. And it as many inhabitants on the planet – the earth, was subject to simple human fear. To fear which is inherent in all the inhabitant of the planet – the earth. – In any case hour! – she told with obvious hysterical laughter. – I can stay here till the morning. – having fallen into a hysterics, she hysterical burst out laughing. She did not want that somebody saw it in such state, but in this situation it could not restrain. – Here you see, – she hysterical laughed at to a hand and by that a forefinger afar, somewhere in a darkness. – it, you see there. – she spoke as if believing that there on the road about Patriarchal there is someone whom she saw clearly.

Zhora and Emmanuel looked at each other. They could not understand why Luda went crazy? She saw something or someone? What is it? Impact of the novel of Bulgakov on its mentality? It is for certain known; the novel Master and Margarita is shrouded in essence in mysticism. Many directors put on the stages of theater and shot films on this novel. But how fate of the actors who played in this movie was? At many problems on the shooting stage began. Someone after played a certain role in it works – died. At someone family life went wrong. What to say yes, Master and Margarita are the most famous work in the world, and most mystically – mysterious. Zhora and Emmanuel looked around, nothing. They did not see anything and anybody, only gloomy darkness, dimly burning lamps along a pond, and the small comer obviously from ponds – fog. Fog. From where did it undertake – fog? On the street there was a clear sunny weather. Foretold nothing – a rain. But here, on Patriarchal ponds, obviously, time went differently. Sometimes going lengthways along the street and having come on Clean poods "Patriarchal ponds" willy-nilly, you look at water of ponds. It it is silent and quiet as if sleeps. Covered in the fall with a leaf fall of yellow leaves, it something bewitches. Something in it is it that everyone will understand. And having only seen beauty a fascinating look – you understand that in these ponds among serene rest and sincere balance, is still something? Something mysterious and mystical. Philosophers and romantics, people with a certain imagination and also people of art "Artists and Musicians" will understand me. But we will return to heroes of this history. So, unclear from where the undertaken fog, quickly vanished on all road. Something became so. Something changed, something occurred. All three attendees at Patriarchal ponds felt that everything changes. Patriarchal ponds changed. Something occurred around them. Or someone watched something at them the hidden eyes. On their bodies ran cold. Soul went to heels, and on a face sweat acted. It was fear sweat. Horror inherent here and broken loose. None of three knew that it was? It seemed to them that they are now here – on Patriarchal, and somewhere in other place. Somewhere not in that world where they got used to be and where they were only guests. It seemed to them that someone or something took away them. A visor somewhere there where there is no road the mere mortal. And it meant … really they were dead? Their souls crossed borders of time and space, as well as Master and Margarita, and appeared on that side. On that side of reality. In other world. The world – where Bulgakov wrote the novel "Master and Margarita". In the world where time passes absolutely differently. In the world where there live past ghosts. In the world of old Moscow – her intelligence. Yes, exactly here, and in other place there were all three anywhere. Emmanuel, Luda and Zhora. Having come here at night, they obviously intruded in the world not subject to understanding of the person. And can them the destiny brought here? Who knows that? We always want to learn unknown. We interfere for sides of possible. In a world behind the looking-glass of the destiny, the world. There, where we cannot come. not that to come, and to open this door and that is impossible. We break the law. Law of space. The law – on that side. To speak in any case, sometimes we break the law too. But we will continue. So, fog dissipated. What was seen by heroes of this history? Empty will give all the best stone blocks a path. The benches standing along ponds. Old lamps hung on columns. They reminded grandfather's times about revolutionary years. They burned dimly. From outside it seemed that they as if wait for someone or something. Without understanding what occurs and how they appeared here? All three decided to sit down on one of benches under a lamp. They did not know what occurs? Where they now? To what time did transfer them? They knew only one. They somehow appeared here, on Patriarchal ponds. Perhaps someone wanted to show them something? But what? They did not know it. But here, from where do not undertake, the stall nearby appeared. Then on stone blocks the person appeared. This was the corpulent woman of years of thirty. On it there was a white apron, on the head there was a white cap. She looked back, and cried out to more rough smoked from tobacco smoke of cigarettes by voice: