Mystical Kiev and stories. V. Speys
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The next day came a cousin Nyuska. She was sixteen years old and she was considered Valik older sister, even though I knew it was not true. And that her baby could not stand for her hurtful and sociable character. We tried to escape with the baby in the park. There I told him the story about a boy, who at twelve years helped rescue two pilots of an unidentified flying object, or in other words, a spacecraft. And for that, the Rescue of Astronauts, the boy was awarded the unique abilities and even sang three of his best, the most important goal.
– But if in your life will occur such an event that you would ask for?
Kid frowned, thought for a long time, and then said:
– I want to live forever and never die.
– Anything else?
– I want a lot of friends.
– Anything else?
– I want to help other people, not to hurt, and live forever.
– Valik, when you have an event in your life, asks a lot of money, so that you can help people. Without money nothing can be done, even a dog to help.
– And that I will have it?
– All can be, well, just in case you keep that in mind, okay?
– Yes OK. – The kid fell silent and deep in thought. Then suddenly he asked seriously:
– And when it will happen.
– I don’t know. I just told you, just in case, so that in life you take the right decisions. – The boy again seriously looked at me and said: – Uncle Nick, I’ll make the right decisions.
– That’s right, well done. – Encouraged by the praise, the kid beamed a happy smile. And I began to speak to him one more case of his future:
– Well, even when you might be ten years, never pull the colt Uncle Vanya by the tail. Because the colt hit you in the forehead. Horses can not drag their tails. Promise me that.
Kid again seriously looked at me, then asked:
– You, Uncle Kolya pulled the colt, and he banged your head on the hoof?
– Yes. – And I showed him the scar on the right side of the forehead. The kid laughed good-naturedly, saying that he was not such a fool to carry the horses tails.
– And you know how to fight? – I asked him.
– What?
– And the fact that when the son of Uncle Vanya comes to you and starts to tease you insulting words, it is better not to answer him.
– Why? I told him how to give?
– No, I do not. You’re stronger than he is a boy, but he can hit you with a stick of branched apple and will break your skull. Listen to me, do not plant it. Promise me good! So he did not say.
– Well, I will not answer him.
– Correctly. If you’ll remember, and do all that I told you, you will be strong, healthy and full of money.
Kid confidently puffed out his chest, as if he was an adult and confident voice:
– Uncle Nick, do not leave us, please. – Became a whimper. I took out a handkerchief, blew his nose and wiped his tears, to cheer the boy’s words: – Well, well, you’re a man. And men do not cry. – I looked at him, and I myself have a cat clawing like, so I was sorry for him. It was a pity himself. What am I going to do all year, how to live? And anyway, if I survive? The third day I spent with the roll in the park. We played soccer. Viewed birds of different colors, and again I reminded him of his clever stories that he kept himself. Before leaving, my grandmother gave me a letter to his brother. To the delight of my envelope was signed. I had no choice but to drop it in the mailbox in Kiev, when I come to town.
On Saturday, I woke up early in the morning. Grandma gave me on the track in the oven roasted cockerel, boiled potatoes, bread and cakes with poppy seeds, which are specially baked for my departure. All this I hoisted in a plastic bag, which is placed at the bottom of the linen bags wrapped in newspaper.
My grandmother asked me, why do you want bags? I told him that Uncle Gregory ordered me to buy Fodder for pigs and pigeons, and the bags in the afternoon with fire not find. And I was given three bags, the benefit of this stuff on the farm «Bolshevik» were many. Of course, I leave his house did not want to. With a sense of irreparable loss forever, I got nowhere…
Chapter Five
The sun had shone its rays heavy dew on the flowers, on both sides of the track, on which I accompanied my grandmother to the gate. Gravity separation crushed stone, pressed to the ground, his legs did not want to go with this heavenly place, but the mind and the reality of feeling defeated, and I reluctantly trudged along the old fence enclosing a slender number of chestnut trees in our garden. Birch, even not with a thick trunk and a high fun rustled me goodbye with gold leaves, chestnuts carpet of road paved with me Coy their leaves my way to the cobbled road on which I have to go to three kilometers of the highway. On the side of the highway was a small village with a romantic name «Dream», there stops the shuttle bus to Kiev. In the 52 th year, the villagers Shpitki drove his bus to the market, and who are younger and work in Kiev. Grandma put to me on the track three rubles in his pocket, I was incredibly pleased. Walking on the pavement along the poplar trees planted on both sides of my way, I’m wondering in your mind what to do next with my odyssey where to start and how to live in a strange and very difficult time in 1952. From the stories I remembered that this year, full of repression. Especially Stalin took up the doctors. And the whole company was conducted, and the spy was present everywhere. Population pounding on each other, accused of espionage of any person, which is something not said or otherwise dressed, in which found the machinations of imperialism and undermining the foundations of the Soviet Union. So do not blink of an eye, as you can be in places not so remote. Pretending weak elder, can be avoided this fate. And live bad poor 1953, to get to my return to the promised time.
With such sad thoughts I got to dream. On the dusty road, near the highway stood six people waiting for the bus. They examined me undisguised curiosity. Two fat women in white headscarves and carrying baskets of pears, began to openly discuss my appearance, seeing my ironed pants and a jacket. It seemed that my white shirt makes an indelible impression on these young women. The bus came from Buzova, another village located by Darling at a distance of three kilometers. Of course, he picked up the passengers and there was full. Pushing each other waiting passengers, somehow got into the interior of the bus. My right shoulder was the fragrant basket of pears. Shaking on uneven road, the bus rolled in the direction of Kiev.
In Svyatoshino, the final tram stop, I sat on the tram №3 and drove to Downtown. Left at stop «Bessarabia market.» On the main street of Kiev here and there were repairs. Ball and took traders from the surrounding villages. There covered pavilion were horse carts and covered