disappeared, and I crawled away and ran to my sheep, not knowing what to tell the shepherds. I forgot to think about the escaped sheep. And what to think about it: clearly, she got into kebabs with robbers and murderers. I decided not to say a word to the shepherds: everyone had a rifle; suddenly, they would want a reward for catching state criminals, and those would kill them and me too. No, it's better to forget this horror, I stayed alive and thanked Allah. I sat on a hill, basking in the sun, just closed my eyes— they kill, I open— the sun, green grass, blue sky, peace and grace, I close my eyes— shoot in the back of the head. I started thinking about the city, remembered my street, my native house, the shop, my friends… And the shepherds found me on the hill with a dead bird in their beak, and the most relaxed ones fell asleep on the stone and ate from the bag with dry bread.
How many years have passed, it's hard to count. I'm the only one left, parents passed away, couldn't bring a wife home, I'm small and ugly, and those who need my shop, not me, I don't need it for free. And the day before yesterday, when I remember that day, I shiver, we were all driven out onto the street to greet the Great and Invincible Iosif Besarionis. My curiosity almost got me killed. I sneaked into the front row, I'm small in stature, want to see everything better, and found myself not far from a group of representatives from all walks of life. They hold bread and salt ready, waiting for the Leader… The car rolled up close to the group, the door opened, Iosif Besarionis stepped out of the car, and then I was pushed, the back rows pressed right under the Leader's feet. I sprawled on the dusty road, my face ended up on the Great Teacher's shoe. He seemed to really like that I kissed his shoe, thought I was, brushed the dust off my suit, then looked me in the eye and said, "Somewhere, kacó, I've met you before, I remember your eyes clearly." I stood like a post, tongue stuck to my teeth with fear, silent and waiting to be executed. But then the welcoming group jealously pushed me aside, and maybe their joy saved my life. Only I heard, managed to hear, every word of the Leader's, addressed to his companion standing nearby: "Arif, we've seen this man somewhere, find out!" I dove into the crowd as quickly as possible and ran home on all fours. Changed my dirty pants for clean ones, took all the money and valuables I had, went to a competitor, who hadn't let anyone through with his proposals recently, and sold him my father's shop, which he significantly let down, here they said that all the property of the fleeing is confiscated, even if this property is transferred or sold to another. To avoid being searched, I told everyone that I was going to a wedding, I won't be home for a few days, and left forever. I moved to a border area where my uncle still lived, where I once herded sheep. I told my uncle everything without hiding. He loved me like a son, he had no children left, they died in the Sierra mountains, helped, introduced to a familiar caravanbashi, didn't require me to lie to him. Which I willingly did… How lucky I was to have the intelligence and strength to run away! How lucky I was to live alone, without a wife and children! How lucky I was that my parents died and no one would be executed by the inquisition for my escape!… Sometimes I miss my native home, my heart aches and tears involuntarily come, but when I remember the suspicious look of Iosif Besarionis, when I remember that horror: only twenty minutes separated me from death when I left the competitor's house, I already noticed a black car parked nearby my house, and only a miracle, blinding the agents who believed I really went to a wedding, saved me; while searching all the weddings in town, I managed to board a train that safely carried me away from death… And the heartache goes away, I only feel happiness from life… True, I had to change my name and nationality and move to the end of the world…»
Aman-Jalil didn't forget about Gulshan, his shot gazelle, whose tender body he dreamed of every night. After the murder of Sardar Ali, Aman-Jalil sent his people after Gulshan, but those sent returned with nothing, the widow and daughter left somewhere unknown, sold the house, garden, land and all livestock… Aman-Jalil slapped them on the cheek.
– The fools of the heavenly king, how will you catch spies if you couldn't find the girl, they didn't fly away through the air, didn't rise into the sky. Blockheads, urgently question, if necessary, neighbors, cashiers at the station… I give you two days, if you don't find out where the widow and daughter went, blame yourselves!
What this word meant, none of the agents knew, but what followed it, they learned so well that they "dug up the earth" until they found a villager who saw the widow in the city at the bazaar, where he brought peaches and a little hashish, you have to live, for sale. The villager was very surprised to see her, they told everyone they were leaving for another vilayat to relatives, not the city. It was harder to search in the city, but Aman-Jalil had his people in every police department, he raised all his own, and a few days later Gulshan was brought to his office.
"I felt he wouldn't forget my body," said Gulshan. "He found it, even though my mother swore no one would find us in the city, not a single devil. One devil was found who found it. I wonder how he found it? Okay, I'll find out later!.. Should I tell him we'll have a baby or not? We'll see… Will her mother have a baby too? Also, a relative. Who will he be to us? My son – brother, because they have one father, at the same time he is also my brother, we have one mother, so he is my son, although I won't give birth to him. Who will he be to his father? A son is clear, a brother like my brother-in-law, and more?.. Will the mother have a son and grandson at the same time. You can get confused… Found to marry? Maybe ashamed? Afraid of the authorities? Scare him?.. No, he won't be scared, won't marry. Two to hell I'll just live with you. First get married, my dear. I'll give birth to your children, we'll live like people."
Aman-Jalil looked at Gulshan and felt his soul overflowing with tenderness and love.
– How her beauty blossomed, what pleasure it will be to dress this body, and even more to undress it. Give her gifts of pleasure, – Aman-Jalil thought, examining every detail of her body.
He drove away other, sinful thoughts: he wanted to undress her right here, in the office, on the wide leather couch he confiscated, where, he didn't remember anymore, and enjoy her instead of this exhausting work.
– Intentionally disappeared? – he asked, jealous.
– What's your business? Are you my husband? – Gulshan jumped up. – In your opinion, did we have to stay for the entertainment of the whole street, or even the city.
– That's right, you couldn't stay, the city is solid! – Aman-Jalil threw contemptuously.
– Listen, what have you attached to me? – offended for the native town Gulshan raged. – You came, trampled on all the laws of hospitality, adat and Quran in addition, did your dirty, black business and still make fun. You, villain, even dishonored my mother…
– Don't talk nonsense, woman, I needed your widow when you were nearby.
– Ara, means you mean, she went for a walk and had a baby?
– This is a driver, eh! I'll tell him, he'll marry your mother… Are you happy now?
– I will be happy if you follow his example and marry me, I'm also expecting a child…
Aman-Jalil was pleased.
– Well done, you make me a man… But I can't get married. Don't ask: why, why? I can't and that's all!..
…It's hard to explain what you don't understand yourself. Ahmed recently called him with a report on confiscation. He was pleased with his share, the amount sent to the capital, to the emir's palace, rejoiced like a child, and when Aman-Jalil was going to leave, he returned him from the door.
– Boy, why don't you get married? The bride didn't grow up?
Aman-Jalil was embarrassed.
– I'm
