ah- babushka, and who are you calling there?!
"Well, wait, I'll tell Aunt Ole, she'll give you nettles, she'll treat you!" Now will you know how to mock the old people?!
That's kindergarten. The teacher full, round- faced, met us at the gate.
"I will not accept you." The children have already been in the dining room for a long time.
– Yes, he does not need to eat. Let it go to play! Retorted the grandmother.
"We cannot do this." – And, addressing me, – And you will be punished for being late. The last time I receive you. – And already to the grandmother, – It is more that not late! She ordered severely. To which grandmother waved her hand grumbling:
– A- ah! – We know you!
I followed the teacher after him.
In the dining room it was warm and hot, the wooden tables were already removed.
– Sit down at the table! The teacher ordered.
I sat down and began to talk with my feet. Suddenly, a long thin boy grew up beside him. It was late for the kindergarten of Jester Kolya. I considered him my friend. He also did not have a father and he, too, like me, was late for the kindergarten today. Our friendship began even from last year, when my grandmother's sister's father came to our house to measure my mother with Albert, my father. Her name was Aunt Zina, and she lived in Moscow, and worked as a stenographer in the office of the government of the USSR. Mother said that she had stenographer various meetings of government meetings and even attended the visits of foreign delegations at the invitation of the government. She brought a whole lot of chocolate sweets with cherry liqueur, cognac, well, I was allowed to take two pockets in my jacket. And Aunt Zina, and my mother strictly ordered me not to call her grandmother, to call only Aunt Zina, although in fact she was my great- aunt. Aunt Zina volunteered to take me to the kindergarten, but my mother did not allow, as it turned out, my mother was afraid that my father would take me to Moscow and give it to Aunt Zina. That's why I, with stuffed pockets of chocolate sweets, my mother and Aunt Zina together led me to a kindergarten. This is where the Jester Kohl appeared, who did not pay any attention to me before attention, since he was a whole year older and had his own circle of friends of the same age. He timidly approached me and asked: – Valik, and give me a candy? – He appeared next to us and did not leave until Aunt Zina put a candy in his hand in a red wrap. He took a treat and said to me: "Give me, for the guys." And I'll tell them not to offend you. And if someone will pick you up then you just tell me. – He stood and did not go, pulling the wrapper from the candy in his hand. Aunt Zina said to me: – Valik, do not give these candies to anyone. They cannot be given with alcohol and children of these sweets.
I felt my importance and importance at these moments and turned to Aunt Zina:
– Can give one. With one, nothing bad will happen. – Mother looked at me and said, – Well, give him one. And let him go to treat his comrades.
I thrust Kolya two canteens and he happily ran off to friends, popping into his mouth all at once. There two more boys began to look in my direction. It was not difficult to guess what they learned from Kolya. After a short meeting, Kolya came again, and so it was repeated until all my sweets were over. After that, Kolya forgot about my existence …
"Oh, it's you, Kolya?" Sit next to Valik. – Gently, almost affectionately addressed to him, the teacher Aunt Olya, swinging her weighty body, went to the dispenser window.
The dining room was built in the form of a canopy. The difference in the treatment of the teacher to me and Kolya was noticeable. Kolya too late, even for a longer time. But he was treated with particular affection when he was near me. Of course, I did not understand such treatment, somewhere subconsciously feeling like an outcast.
Before us appeared plates with soup with fresh peas and pieces of meat.
Kolya looked into my plate and said:
"Give me your fat piece, I'll give you this piece of meat."
Kolya's plate had a large white cousin.
"It's not meat!" – I retorted.
– Meat! Meat! It is so white and there is no fat.
Before I could answer, as Kolya threw a white piece of boiled bacon, like a jelly, in my plate, and from my plate scooped up an appetizing rib with meat.
A lump of sorrow came to my throat, and I stopped eating offense.
"Take it, eat it, try it, it's meat." Kolya persuaded me, not far behind me.
And believing it, I took a piece in my mouth.
"Only you swallow it right away." It's meat! – Looking wide- eyed at his friend, continued Kolya.
I made an effort and swallowed a boiled piece of pencil lard. Again, it hurt my heart to deceive Kolya, who was considered a friend. I could hardly restrain tears and nausea coming closer to my throat. I did not want to eat. A piece of fat was stuck in the throat with a nauseating obstacle. But such a fragrant fresh pea, green dill and cow's home oil from above in the soup. Favorite soup, now it seemed tasteless. And then the cook hooked:
– What do not you eat? Well, eat!
Taking advantage of the minute when she turned away, Kolya grabbed my plate of soup and splashed it under the table, then quickly put the empty in front of me. The cook went around the long table and again approached us:
– Well, that's a fine fellow. Addition take?
– No, I do not want to. – I mumbled.
"Well, here, drink compote!" She set before me a faceted glass of pear compote, smelling of smoke. I drained the glass in a moment, the drink seemed so delicious after a portion of boiled, disgusting fat. It seemed to give me a bucket of compote, at that memorable moment, half a bucket would probably have drunk. But the portions were strictly limited.
The nausea was coming up. There was a pounding in his temples. Red butterflies fluttered before my eyes, my breath nearly stopped. With a feeling of disgust, I looked around and saw opposite the laughing face of Coley. The boy rejoiced. The mockery was successful, the feeling of the winner shone in his self- satisfied smirk.
At that moment I wanted to run home to my Friends, a red cockerel and a dog named Marsik, to my beloved cow, Zorka, and to the grumbling grandmother of Evgenia Lavrentievna.
I got out of the table. Nausea intensified, my heart beat faster, my temples pounding. Staggering, I, like a drunk, staggered to the washstand. There I was groaning. Fatty disgusting slices of fat, along with gastric juice, relieved the stomach .. The contents of the stomach splashed out in the washbasin of the washbasin, easing the overall condition. Kolya, pleased with himself, ran to the courtyard, where there was a fun game. I washed and rubbed my face with a towel, my well- being improved significantly, my giddiness passed, and I ran towards the cheerful voices of the children. In the courtyard I was greeted by the din of children's voices. The game was in full swing. Who sculpted grandmothers in the sandbox, who fought for molds and sand sovochki. Who collected in a flower bed, where, by the way, it was forbidden to do this, flowers, while Aunt Olya saw off my grandmother. But only she turned in the direction of the children, all the children were playing innocently. The pranks were instantly forgotten. Terrible – a teacher with a punishing stalk of luxurious nettles, was a respected and terrible face for children's perception. I joined a group of boys who were busy with
