The girl looked again at the moderator and, is if she were bewitched, she repeated what someone had told it.
‘Good. Marxism conception?’
Vic lowered her eyes and noticed Philippych’s lips silently moving and then a clear whisper went on: “…political capitalism economy, historical materialism, scientific communism. The philosophy centre is a conception of a human subtraction from own labour products…”
Vic was watching the professor’s lips and understood nothing. The whisper, he was speaking, was a whisper but loud. It was so loud so the person sitting next to Philippych, would have absolutely heard what was going on near.
‘Have you told anything, Professor?’ Victoria asked unexpectedly.
‘I’ve asked you to give Marxism conception. Philipp Philippych is silently waiting for the answer.’
The moderator was speaking, and Victoria saw Marxism conception coming out of his mouth. It was just in tune with his announcements! Simultaneously!
‘What’s the hell?’ Vic asked herself under her breath, touching her hair.
‘I beg your pardon? Are you ok, Drache? You don’t look like yourself.’ Philippych asked quiet. ‘You’re pale, sweated… Shall I let you go to the nurse?’
‘No,’ she whispered in replay kept on looking at the moderator’s lips muttering about Marxism conception. ‘I’ll go on.’
In a trembling voice, Victoria re-told everything that the moderator said and got good mark, and looking round, she left the auditorium.
‘So? How was it?’ group-mates came up to her.
Vic came along the hall, speaking and listening to nobody. She washed her face with cold water, trying to wash off madness that had attacked her. She couldn’t still believe what she had seen was true. How was it possible to believe in such things? And on the other hand, how was it possible not to believe? Knowing nothing Vic passed the final philosophy exam because the moderator himself had told her the examination card! What a nonsense!
Cold water streamed. Refreshing. Victoria refused to believe in what had happened. It was too much. There was no such a thing.
In fifteen minutes, she left the WC room, forced herself to smile. She had to speak a lot about how the exam was, how she was lucky, that she remembered the correct answer, that professors weren’t mean. Vic tried to calm her course mates down, infused hope into them, saying that everything would be okay, and everyone would pass.
‘Vic, have you passed?’ Olga Vladimirovna spoke in a voice touched with emotions on the cell.
‘I have, I got a good mark. Don’t worry.’
‘Oh, thanks god. When are you going home?’
‘In the evening. Maybe at night. We’re gonna to a café with mates.’
‘Okay, try to be at home earlier, will you?’
‘Mum!’ a reproachful note appeared in Vic’s voice. ‘I’m not a baby!’
‘Yes, you aren’t, of course. You’re a child. So be careful. Are you listening to me, Vic?’
Victoria looked angrily at the ceiling, holding the cell away from her ear not to listen to the talk.
‘Okay, mum, okay. I got it. See you.’
‘Vic, I’ve not…’
Her mum was speaking something when the girl hanged up the cell. She didn’t want to listen to any moralizing. After Vic had seen the professor saying her the examination card and nobody but Vic could hear him, she wanted to relax a little bit. It didn’t matter what people it would be around. The main point was not to be alone, especially at home.
