Svetlana Mirray

The adventure of the trucker Ivan Mikhailovich. A mystical novel


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The secret of the psychic

      A mystical novel

      Svetlana Mirray

      © Svetlana Mirray, 2022

      ISBN 978-5-0056-4372-8

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      CHAPTER 1. THE TRAVELING COMPANION

      Let, Let the road run into the distance

      Sadness

      Let it not lie on your heart

      I can do anything in the world.

      Ivan Mikhailovich turned the steering wheel and hummed his favorite song of Leopold the cat from the cartoon, while cheerfully whistling its melody.

      It was already hard to remember when he first got behind the wheel of a car, so many years had passed, and he himself was no longer a boy. "The old broken trough" is how he called himself jokingly among his fellow truckers.

      His wife Nastenka was seriously ill and died of cancer, five years have passed since her death. He never got married again, he went all into work. So occasionally random women appeared, but no one stayed long. There was no one who would replace his beloved wife.

      – The sun is shining brightly, a sparrow is chirping. It's more fun to live a good life in the white world," Ivan continued to hum the song, "Well, what are you standing here for, you fools?

      Girls in miniskirts were standing on the side of the road, some of them were smoking, others were standing on the spot looking at cars and trucks.

      – They would have gone to work and even to the factory and would have been normal people, then they would have married, – he shouted, but no one heard him, all the windows were closed in the cabin.

      Ivan Mikhailovich was born in the village, by nature he was fair and honest. Therefore, now he spoke from the heart, well, it’s disgusting because all this, you will agree!

      Therefore, despite his bachelor status, he never used the services of moths.

      He was passing the village of Svetloye and noticed an old man on the side of the road, who waved his hand at him. Ivan Mikhailovich pressed the clutch pedal, the truck growled and stopped.

      – Hello to me in the next village on the highway it will be in about half an hour – said the old man.

      – Get in, have fun together, – Ivan replied.

      – You won't regret that they put me in jail, I'm still that guy in the village, an accordion, ditties and stories, and that's all me, people love me for that. By the way, what is your name?

      –I'm Ivan," he replied and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke rings out the window.

      – But we are namesakes, and I am Ivan too. the old man laughed. – Two Ivan, two blockheads.

      – But why am I a fool?

      – Yes, that's me, you don't understand all the rhyme. Well, I'll tell you only one story, but if our paths still converge, then there will be another story for you," the old man lit his pipe and coughed.

      – Why do you have such valuable stories?

      – Well, how can I tell you, people really like them.

      «Come on, old man, tell your story,» Ivan said and prepared to listen.

      MERMAIDS

      – This strange story happened a long time ago, when I was a young guy and served as a soldier in a construction battalion, – the old man began the story, he lit his pipe again, – And the military unit was located near the city of Timashevsk.

      – This is Krasnodar Krai, a southern city, and I often go there for work, the other day I have to take the cargo there, – Ivan said.

      "All right, listen further to what happened to me there," the old man replied.

      One hot summer, my friend Sasha and I decided to go awol for the whole weekend. We agreed with our comrades in the company that we should be covered, collected the most necessary things and went to the farm with the name of Fierce.

      – Is the name something strange? – I said to my friend then.

      – Now we will check whether this name corresponds to reality, – he laughed in response.

      We took each of our duffel bags and went. It was necessary to walk five kilometers to the farm, we covered this distance in a couple of hours. We knocked on one house and an old grandmother immediately opened it to us.

      – Let us in for a couple of days, and we'll do the work you give us, – said Sashka.

      – Welcome, come on in, you guys will have a bed for the night, – grandma answered in a kind voice, straightening her gray hair that had fallen out from under a colorful scarf.

      She showed us the room and invited us to the table. The lunch was simply divine, because then I had not eaten home cooking for a year, but sat on soldiers' grub.

      – Come on, do you want to go swimming on the river? – she asked, pouring homemade kvass into glasses.

      – Yes, and you don't have fishing rods?

      – There is no such good, and you will not catch fish there, the owner of the river will be against it, – grandma replied.

      – And who is the owner? Is your administration local, or what? – we answered in unison.

      – No, – she laughed, – Just the owner of the river.

      – Is this master Neptune, or what? – now we laughed in response.

      – Don’t laugh, otherwise he will be angry with you and won’t let you go. «Chop some wood for me and go to the river,» the old woman said.

      While Sasha and I were chopping wood, everyone discussed this conversation with grandma and came to the conclusion that Old Believers most likely live here, who will worship various spirits, and we calmed ourselves with this.

      – Well, did you guys chop wood for me?

      – Yes, we are finishing soon.

      – Quit your job and go to the river, otherwise you have to get back before dark.

      "Good," we said in surprise and looked at each other, but still decided to obey and left the firewood.

      We went along the path into the forest and saw the long-awaited river, which stretched in a long ribbon along the gentle bank, and on its edge grew tall reeds.

      Suddenly, a ringing female laugh rang out from there. And Sasha and I saw two girls among the reeds, who were sitting on huge stones covering their bodies with colorful scarves.

      – Well, are you boys going to swim?  one of them asked in her thin melodious voice.

      – Yes, of course we're going. And you probably wake up here, the villagers? – Sashka said joyfully, he had finally met female representatives for many months of service.

      – Yes, we are local, local, – they giggled together.

      – And you take off your clothes and run to us. The water is warm, like fresh milk," said a dark girl with a long, thick braid that lay on her shoulder.

      – Let’s run, dear, let’s run, – said Sashka and quickly began to take off his soldier’s trousers.

      –Wait," I said softly, "Don't rush, remember what the old lady told us about the strange places here, and about the owner of the river. Usually girls behave more modestly, but they don't invite guys they don't know.

      – Come on, Vanya, why are you like a little one. Look what kind of girls, well, when will you have such an opportunity again? "Well, are we running into the river?" he said, taking off his T—shirt, the last thing left on him.

      – Why don't you undress? – asked a dark girl with a long braid.

      – A little later. I'll stand for a while, take a look around.

      – Well, come on then, Vanya, come on. You’re smart, live,» the girl giggled, and a fish tail and scales