2 Point of divergence

Max finally entered the man's cave. What greeted him were bare unadorned walls and a shabby set of coaches, which didn't really surprise him even though it was his first visit. Max was told the story of poor Navruz who only had the luxury to buy some necessitous staff, and beyond that, he could only afford transportation, food and bills. So it was, truly, in a sense, a man's cave. Heck, even a relatively well off Neanderthal would've scoffed at this inhospitable place, but Navruz didn't care, and neither did Max.

Once the duo unpacked all there was to unpack, and filled all there was to fill, they had a blast indeed. One might think that booze would unwind Maxim's usual restraint, but quite the contrary, he became even more solemn and less wordy. Navruz, on the other hand, did really become outspoken, his hands flying about in an attempt to convince his buddy that having a big weiner wasn't necessarily a good thing. To that, Max just sat there slowly sipping the Czech with absolutely no reaction on his face. He knew that once Navruz touched upon the less serious and more vulgar subjects, then it meant that the latter was in a totally relaxed state, be he somber or drunk.

Though the entirety of the profound discourse was mostly dominated by Navruz, the other dude still poured in some of his insights here and there, "You are telling me that oversized pee-pee is synonymous with impotency, and to that bs I will say... well, that's probably really the case" And so they approached the subject through physiological angle, and even considering their shallowest knowledge concerning medicine, they still sounded quite authentic, especially Max with his signature poker face. Actually, it might be his advantage as his bearings make him look reliable and believable. If we take the crazy ideas of Navruz and let them pass through the lips of Max, then there will probably some people who would earnestly nod in agreement.

After those dudes wined and dined, there came a time when they had nothing to do, and even the once refreshing Czech became too bitter on the tongue. Feeling a little tipsy and slightly bored, Max stood up and went up from the kitchen, that also served as a dining room, towards the two thus far unexplored rooms. He just wanted to push one of the doors when Navruz came crushing in a drunken state to stop his action. Max, being a very observant guy, was always highly aware of his surroundings, so he didn't miss Navruz' sprint, despite having his reflexes slowed down.

"Is there something I shouldn't see?" Inquired Max with an unnecessary amount of seriousness.

Navruz froze for a moment, and then just brushed it off "Nah, it is just a development room"

Though his face didn't show it, but Max was somewhat confused, so he asked again, "So, for developing what exactly?"

Navruz was quick to catch on this time, "For developing photos, you might ruin my hard efforts, so be careful" He was actually a little exaggerating about the consequences, but Maxim still took his words seriously.

They just stood there in an ostensibly awkward manner. Someone just had to do something to break the stalemate. The first one to give in was Max, as he was denied entrance to the first room, so the only logical decision in his mind was to visit the second one. He gestured towards its door, silently asking Navruz whether he could go in or not. Navruz didn't even wait for Max to finish the gesture as he just straight up opened it and ushered the other dude.

Before Max came a view of a room that had a very disharmonious feel about it. On one hand, there were signs of Navruz's sloppiness everywhere around, and anywhere you stop your sight, you could find something irksome, and that was especially the case for the prim and proper Maxim. And on the other hand, you could see photographs, various vintage lenses and cameras, some drawings, a whiteboard with some schemes on it, a wooden board with many pins and stickers - everything pointed towards some kind of serious hobby and it all looked, emm.... well, pretty cool.

Max knew that Navruz was an amateur photographer, but he didn't know that Navruz' love towards photography came from his late adoptive grandparent Tihomir Dobrolyubov who was, in fact, a real cinematographer. No individual had more impact on Navruz than his Russian grandpa. His acceptance of being a loner, his generous character, his passion towards the 7th art, his exceeding intelligence and inquisitiveness, all of these was due to Tihomir Miroslavovich.

It should also be mentioned, though, that Navruz inherited his grandpa's wastefulness as well. Navruz always knew that his grandpa was a rare talent, even praised by his peers such as Vadim Yusov and Georgi Rerberg who both separately worked with the legendary Andrei Tarkovsky on "Solaris" and "Stalker" respectively. Looking at how Tihomir Miroslavovich never aspired to become a figure of renown in his industry, and even going as far as moving from Moscow to Tashkent just because he fell in love with the unhurried and always hot summer in Uzbekistan, it told Navruz early on that life wasn't only about the constant chase after success, but also maybe about being a stick that drifts by the stream, the stick that one day would rot away and become a part of the nutritious sediment that is the bottom of a river.

Max marveled at some of the compositions orderly hung on every wall. One had a very creative use of light, darkening the main subject so you couldn't tell the facial features. It was shot from the ground, and the light source was the sun that tried to make its way towards the lenses through the thick forest canopy. Being shot in black and white, it further added to the inexplicable charm of the image, making any viewer wonder who the subject might be and whether it was really important to know the answer to that question.

There were also some other photos, equally creative and mesmerizing. Max shifted his gaze to one of them and saw a naked lady facing the camera with her back, her shoulders rounded, her entire posture noticeably tilting to the right, and her arms hugging her body with her hands on her scapulas. It was a half body shot against a dark background. The way the light reflected off her clean white skin and how it all contrasted together, made the subject look fragile and incorruptible. When Max looked at her, an uncontrollable desire to protect her arouse inside of him, well... along with curiosity. He wanted to ask about the story behind this photo, but decided to leave it to another time.

After going through all the photos - and yeah, not all of them were as good as the previous two - he switched his focus onto an antique cabinet with glass. Through that glass he could see various photo cameras, on either left or right side of them, there were Sovietish logos and anyone from CIS could tell that they were indeed Soviet cameras. The names like Kiev-10, Kiev-2, Leningrad and Salyut could evoke the humming of the Soviet hymn in anyone, even the foreigners who had never gotten into contact with Soviet history. There was one particular camera that was presented in the more dignified manner, right in the center of the middle shelf. There were only two things written on it, "Zenit" and "19".

Maxim was a person who could easily rein in his impulses, but today, under the influence of the Czech and the overall atmosphere, he finally relaxed the reins. He couldn't hold back his curiosity, so he opened the cabinet and took out Zenit-19 from the holders. He carefully sized it up and tried the movements of a photographer as he pulled the camera close to his eye. Well, unfortunately, this model didn't have a viewfinder, so this action of Max explicitly showed that he was a total noob.

All this time, Navruz was standing there watching Max explore his room. He didn't do any commentary, nor did he explain how he shot the photos on the walls. It went on like this until Max brought out the precious camera. Max did all the actions quickly enough to not let Navruz have time to react and warn Max about something. That something was the fact that this camera was the favorite camera of his deceased grandfather. You could say that this was a memento.

Navruz was startled and he let out "Hey" which in turn startled Max, as the latter frantically turned right towards the voice and in doing so, he smashed the cabinet door with lenses. Both of the dudes were shellshocked. While the usually collected Max had his mouth open like in one of those memes, it was Navruz who was strangely silent.

Max reminded himself again that every time he does something out of his character, nothing pleasant happens afterwards. He finally closed his pog-like mouth, looked at Navruz with guilt, and tried to think of a way to apologize. When he finally found some eloquent words for the apology, he saw Navruz let a crystal clear tear that quickly rolled down his face. He never thought that Navruz would ever cry with his strong and cheerful character.

In that tear he saw his child self, the time when he wasn't allowed to play his beloved football and was forced to do piano lessons and whatnot. That tear brought up in his memory the nights when he silently wept into his pillow out of frustration. Maybe this tear and that tears didn't have anything in common, but somehow, this situation had left a profound mark on his soul.

Max had a shift in paradigm. That kind of shift, you either accept it, or simply deny it. Max decided to accept it. He never was a person who truly cherished friendship, and the whole charade with Navruz was because he found that it was fun to hang around a person of the same intelligence calibre. Max had never realized that the presence of Navruz slowly chipped away at his egotistical and aloof view of the world, be it learning to spout bullshit or heck, even drinking booze.

At this point of time and space, Max came to a decision to become real friends with Navruz, the ones that you could always trust your back with. It didn't matter to him why Navruz let that tear, what mattered to him was that he would from now on try to understand his only real friend.

Max didn't know, however, that his impulsive action of taking out the camera became a crucial point of divergence, which would drastically change the life of Navruz.