you come, son? I thought of you, – she said, looking at me as if she had seen me for the first time. Then, leaning on her hands, she sat on the bed:
– I thought it was my Vahidjan. I forgot, I probably dreamed. God give him health. Day and night I pray that he will return from the army healthy and unharmed. Go, my son, what the doctor said?
– He said that he needs blood for a transfusion, so he wanted to know our blood group, – I replied outright.
– Will they take a blood from you? – She was worried.
– No, they have blood. But in any case, they should know our group too. The blood of relatives, they say, works faster, – I lied. She believed and then we talked a long time. Through the word she was repeated the name of brother Vahid, who was left to serve for four months. We were looking forward to his return. Recently, there were no letters from Vahid, and my mother was very worried:
– Maybe something happened. I see the disturbing dream lately. He could say two words: "I’m healthy?" – She was worried. When she said about it, my mom even cried. When she said goodbye to me, she asked again:
– Visit your father. No matter what happens to him. I lay down here.
I replied to the doctor that I would consult with my father and let him know when we could take her.
As I left the room, I reluctantly turned back. Mom was lying down, staring at the ceiling. She seemed to have forgotten about me. The heart broke. I had bad thoughts in my head. My mom changed a lot, and it seemed like she was replaced. In vain I tried to find the reasons for this.
I recovered from a sharp car signal. In front of me stood a man of the sight and shouted, waving with his hands:
– Brainless donkey! Just nothingness, but catch you, everything would cost me dearly! What would be, if I hit you?
In response, I only complained, with fear in my eyes, I looked at him. He shrugged his hand and sat in the car.
She touched the whistle and like a bullet went forward. I stood there for a moment, looking after him. I wondered why the driver stopped. I felt rather than realized that I was standing in the middle of the road and cars were flying past me. I quickly crossed the road and ran to the stop. In front of my eyes still stood my mother, staring to the ceiling.
I came home without being able to see my father. I missed the kids. I barely crossed the threshold, they ran to me like chickens. Wearing shirts, bare legs scratched, hands also in the web of cracks, dirty. It was the first time I saw my unhealthy brothers. I unwittingly remembered the words of a nurse from the hospital about my dirty dusty shape.
In general, our family was considered "below the average" Father is incapable of work, mother, working in the farm, received 70 rubles. Among the children the eldest in the family was I. In the summer I worked as a sprinkler, in the autumn I loaded cotton. The brothers are still very small. Vahid did not have time to become an assistant when he was taken to the army. He was one of the first in our state farm. Many of his peers left the house, but they were the children of the director of the state farm, the head of the branch and other important officials. In those years, in the military commissariats, fathers could repay their children. I have witnessed such cases myself.
When Vahid went to work, my mother was crying. She did not believe that my brother, a shy, unknowing young man, could become a soldier. "It will be hard, hard. At least squeeze a little first. What do they take in the army of the boys? Save him, Allah", – she repeated every time by dastarkhan.
These were the days when the Afghan war was still clothed with a state secret, and the soldiers who had passed through it had not yet returned to our state farm.
I asked the military, who accompanied the recruits, where they would be sent. Hearing the answer: "To the Baltic", – I returned home with a calm soul. But… But for a long time I could not forget my brother’s little figure, his sad eyes, his trembling gaze. A letter soon arrived. On the back address were indicated only field mail and part number. By the tone of the letter, by the way the brother says goodbye, there were doubts about what he serves in the Baltics. The grief of the motherland was felt at every word. After each of his letters, an unclear alarm settled in my soul, and sleepless nights began.
And now my mother’s unfamiliar look, her worrying thoughts about brother, made me upset. I watched the little kids holding up my hands. They interrupted each other and asked about their mother. And the little Gulnoz, with a dust-grey piece of sugar in one hand, with peanut peel in the other hand, pressing her cheek to my hand, cried, "Where is Mom, where is Mom?"
The watermelon peel, rolling on the scarf, was covered by flies. The sister was very small, she was not three years old yet, climbed to me on my knees and kissed my cheek with glued lips. There is no father or mother at home, only a bunch of babies, and I am now the only adult for them all. Anger to hopelessness and resentment swallowed my heart. I was crying. They remained silent for a moment, looking at me with amazement, surrounded me, hugged me, who was behind the hand, who is behind the neck, who are behind the shoulders, and, as if feeling something bad, they also cried. I could not take everyone into my hands.
Suddenly, my father appeared on the threshold. He was pale. Afraid of hearing the bad news, he slowly approached me and in a weak voice asked:
– What happened son?
– My mother was in the hospital, – I said, swallowing.
– Yes, I know, – he said after breathing, then, smiling as if nothing had happened, he turned to the younger ones:
– Well kids, get up. Who will say hello to me?
The kids came out of my arms and ran to my father. The black thoughts that took over me immediately withdrew. Later I realized that my father was seriously concerned about something, although he tried not to do so. I thought it was because of my mom. After drinking sweet tea with bread, the children stood up from behind the table and took up their games. We remained both. Quietly drinking tea, the father asked:
– What is the disease, what do doctors say?
After hearing my story, my father said:
– Don’t go to work tomorrow, take care of kids. I go to mother myself.
"How can I not go to work?" – He read in my eyes.
– … this virgin land, – silently said father, breathing deeply.
– When the mother recovers, we will return to our hometown. It’s been 10 years since I came here. Nothing achieved. On the contrary, we’ve all broken up here. And life is already over. I want to die in my homeland. I don’t believe we will anything here. I would put you on your feet and nothing else we need with your mother. We will not get into people here. The cradle is our land. We will start building life again.
We didn’t really get anything at all. And not only us, but also our Fergan relatives who came with us. In the middle of the bare steppe with spots of salt are white concrete houses. In the summer they heat, in the winter they do not hold the heat. Around us a thick stone. In the exhausting heat you will not find a fifth shadow to hide. The sun will not have time to bow to sunset, as the bushes of the clouds raise sharp mosquitoes, which do not spare anyone – whether it is the wrinkles of the old man's forehead or the bloodless face of a child – they relentlessly swallow their sharp grief. There will be no living space in the morning. It is impossible to look at the faces of children: everyone is in wounds, mothers pour their bites with ash.
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