- Sergey Rosedkin -
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THE DRUNK Part 1 The chapter IV P. 4	The chapter IV As I have lost both a hand, and a head 1 In the morning, already in nine, we from it were in a venereal disease dispensary. All road, two quarters, paced silently: I ahead, it behind. I knew: now I will not tell from it neither words, nor a half-word whatever happen — already there were in my life cases when weeks I, psihanuv, did not talk to native mother. I still have the day before become silent, when it, Lena, has rushed was to me with babble, tears, a hand wounded to suffice the beginning. I only have filtered: «Tomorrow to nine we go to hospital together», — and has deduced it for a threshold. In a corridor of a venereal clinic, despite so early hour, already crowded a victim of the temperament of both sexes. I have sat down in the man's company-turn, Lena was attached opposite, among women, women and girls. There sat suchonki and is younger than it is absolutely schoolgirls-semiklashki. However, skin hvorej on light much, there are infections and sad. Lena sat, having buried a sight in the jammed floor, its ears burnt. It was without cosmetics, is smoothly brushed, in a long dark skirt, a white jacket with a deaf collar: exactly like — the pupil of institute of noble maidens. Over her head the bright poster with the naked busty prostitute warned: «be not tempted — you will regret!» Breasts prostipomy with monstrous dummies were for some reason poisonous-violet colour — and the orangutan drunk would hardly be tempted. In my hand the pain pulsed. The palm, hardly spelenataja bandage, densely smelt sweet "SHiprom". We with Arkashej did bandaging at night, already at daybreak so iodine or zelyonku to search — not for that time, and a lack of time. From under a bandage tips of fingers stuck out only. I could move only big and a little finger, anonymous, average and index have swelled and burnt fire. Two muzhiks near to me have got to talking. I have listened, distracting from clumsy thoughts and a pain. — He, yes I hodku do the eighth, the veteran local, — is cheerful, with appetite complained thin, similar of the mechanic-drunk. — Prjam a misfortune any: as I will climb on the new woman so look and — has dripped. Will not carry, and on native sister a gonorrhea you will catch … — You shto, with sister native, whether shto? — razzjavil a mouth thick-lipped and its well-fad interlocutor. — With srodnoj! Absolutely, whether "shto"? The saying is such, about sestruhu … And you of that, too with it? The thick-lipped was twisted, has sighed. — Eh, if! I for pleasure would dance shchas … the Siphon at me damned. It will not be unhooked in any way. Nahradila one stinker still in before last ходý — here also I toil. vseho a time and trahnul it, and here … Hadina! I was involuntarily removed from the syphilitic, with shudder have thought: «Lines, and after all and my analyses still it is not known that have shown … As ogloushit now Lazar Naumych, will please …» The old cynic has rested against me monstrous friable crimson shnobel and has fastidiously taken an interest: — Has resulted the kohanuju? — Has resulted, — I have muttered. — Call, and itself wait behind a door. I left, a nod have called Lena. It it is fussy, it is a pity has jumped up, has bustled under sights of turns in an office. Minutes through ten it has slipped out back and as, having lowered eyes to a dale, has gone on a corridor to laboratory. — Well, she has told — from whom? — I have asked Lazarja Naumycha, though and so fine all knew. — And here it, the young and amorous person, is medical secret. You will take in head to bump off the contender, and me — a sin unnecessary on soul. To bump off?. Ha! To me and to a head did not come … However, when, zakachav in a muscle one more portion of an antibiotic, I walked back in DAS, having thrown the former beloved in an infectious clinic, I have seriously thought of words of the old Jew. And that, really, I after all most strongly also have suffered. To take here, and sadanut a bull of this Moscow, the sonny nomenclature a knife under dyh … Or at least a muzzle to it to grind … However, to one where to me: judging by its descriptions, this tretekursnik Max Melnik whom I have altered at once for some reason on a German harmony Muller, — was zdorovyohonek. I was enraged especially at all by that hmyr this as are expressed in the east, has enjoyed from my jug, and — it synkovost, its apartment, presented to it daddy, rajkomovskim a wild boar, its doubtless arrogance:, of course, he mahrovo despises such, as I, — orphaned and poor dasovtsev. «U-u-u, the swine! Precisely — I will kill!» — I have amused myself dreams, raking the boots which have got wet through snezhno-mud medley of the Moscow roadways and holding with the right hand burning in fire of a pain the left. And the main thing gadstvo — to drink it is impossible, and how without this narcosis differently it is possible to be counterbalanced? Next day the Destiny has solved shchekotnut me, to check up on pediculosis. I pined in turn behind a prick when the office door, and the nurse was slightly opened, having disdained all and all medical secrets, have begun to yell on all corridor: — A bank-nik! The miller is? I was threw up: on a corridor this villain promptly came nearer to me. Indeed — Muller: massive impudent nazi any untershtandartenfjurer. The day before, it is sweet dreaming about a revenge, I was known-hoped, that all it will occur at a distant day — just about a vacation and while a hand podzazhivyot … And here, please, it is necessary to make sharply the decision, to jump, swing the arm, beat him on a mug... Very much it would turn out zrelishchno! It proshestvoval by, for a moment having looked at mine not familiar to it, the person. By the form it it was possible to think — there is it not to an office of the venereologist the gonorrhea to show, and on a tribune of Komsomol meeting — rechugu tolkanut … Fie on you, a muzzle fascist! Fail both you, and it together with you! Suki the infectious! 2 Our House of active sex in a vacation has become empty. Has left under the permit and mine Arkasha — in student's camp situated near Moscow. Melancholy — though howl. The hand, but more soul disturbed was anxious. Without saving "caucasus" as though indeed not to start a vein to clean to itself. I have continually come across its things, is unnecessary each time worrying. I still had whole collection: mahonkie slippers, a comb, a lighter gas, … I do not speak the first volume of "Experiences" of Montaigne about notes and photos. Those photos. I have printed then all film, 36 shots as if has made a pack of pornomaps, and in duplicate. I do not know, how she has disposed of the pack, I have chosen-has left at once five its images — the most art and qualitative, the others have destroyed. Wished to cut up now and a film, but what for has decided to leave-keep. What for?. And in order that is sweet and poisonous to dream in drunk charcoal fumes as once when it will be happy with another, ostepenivshejusja mother of family, I suffering, thrown, despised, — will show-will pull out from a hiding place this plyonochku and I will look, as it will change in the person. I will simply look and — all … I went from a corner to a corner on a room hours — in silence, in loneliness — and, rocking to sleep a sick hand, all thought, recollected, reflected. It is time already has appeared suddenly and for the diploma closely to have a seat, and predegree practice to pass, and with distribution particularly to solve. Really — not to go to Sevastopol. Or nevertheless — to Sevastopol?. The head striked. To disturb a hand I tried as seldom as possible, tied up in day. At first, squatting from a pain, burnt a wound cologne, has then bought ointment Vishnevsky. The palm has swelled up a little. All tuzhe it was held apart by a pulsing pain. Fingers still did not move. It is visible, the foolish knife has touched, and can and at all cut sinews. Then to me the star till the end of a life to go with the spread wide fingers … And here, the fool instead of rushing off in a polyclinic, I only I has come to the end ukolno-bitsillinovyj a course, on last roubles have bought the ticket, otstuchal the telegramme and have rushed off from melancholy Moscow to native djadke, to full my namesake — to Vadim Nikolaevichu, in the nice hospitable city of Voroshilovgrad. A gain, has solved, at relatives a week, I will be fattened on house harchah, I will have a drink gorilki — it is already possible now. And over the diploma I will sit, after all in local library for certain there will be my liked poets. A theme I took most that on is creative and from journalistic practice the far: «an intonation Generality in Sergey Yesenin and Sergey Rubtsova's poetry». I already and then assumed-had a presentiment: newspaper day labour — nevertheless I bread. But already in a train, at night, me became ochenno and ochenno preparshivo. In a car with reserved seats have heated so as if this was a mobile bath, and I on the second shelf felt myself for certain, as on полкé. At times I seriously imagined, as if meal, as well as dreamt more recently, to Crimea. For me darling marvellous eyes — is huge-grey, artless there wait. Splashes the sea … In the distance, at the horizon, the white steamship … Over waves moves — seagulls … Near coast jump out of the sea two tender dolphins, … We cheerfully somersault with Lena, that Lena, having joined hands, infectiously we laugh … Suddenly the sea darkens, stiffens, grows stiff. On it, it is direct from under our feet, the fiery dotted line — promptly slides, purposefully, terribly — and is stuck into the ship: as if in the huge playing automatic machine under the name «Sea fight». Explosion! The white case breaks, settles, plunges in kiselnuju sea dregs. Absolutely close from coast dead dolphins rock white paunches upwards. Lena sticks into left my palm sharp nails — to an intolerable breaking off pain … Shaking a stuffy nightmare, I fight a forehead about the third shelf, I come to the senses, I am answerable, I lower a head downwards. My fellow travellers-neighbours, razmetavshis from a heat, snore, mutter, shudder, — the drowsily-road nightmares worry. The hand is ill, on a shower, as behind a car window, — a gloom and a darkness. The wife djadki, hlopotunja Hope Mihajlovna, all war ottrubila front sanitarkoj. It there and then, behind a table when the plentiful festively-counter breakfast was not brief yet, nearly has not violently unwound my hand, has looked through thick points at a wound which I, ostensibly carelessly, have put to myself during game unknown, and has become agitated. And that! I and itself was frightened: the palm has monstrously swelled, round a wound the shining tense skin ominously has darkened. The aunt has pressed a finger, the clear and any gentle crunch was heard — as if have touched-have rumpled a tissue paper. — The temperature is? A fever? A diarrhoeia? — Hope Mihajlovna has seized me. — As night slept? Appetite what?. However, appetite, I see, while is, thanks God. Temperature now we will measure … But, smart guy, in any case — immediately to the doctor. Urgently! With antonovym fire, my darling, jokes are bad. Is a gangrene, whether that? — I have drooped. Here also the terrible fatal word which I from the consciousness tried to etch is said, to forget. — you exaggerate, the aunt. — If! On here thermometer under the mouse, yes esteem while. It has palmed off on me tolstennyj the volume of the medical encyclopaedia. I have looked: «A gangrene — omertvenie body or its part in a live organism at blood circulation infringement … Thus fabrics are exposed to putrefactive disintegration. More often blood supply is broken as a result of mechanical destruction of feeding vessels — bruises, razmozzhenija, ruptures … (Anything to itself a word — razmozzhenija!) Distinguish a dry and damp gangrene … the part of a body Amazed with a gangrene it is increased in volume, has bluish, sine-black or black colour, and in case of joining of a putrefactive infection — brown or green … Sharp otgranichenija dead fabrics from healthy it is not marked, and the gangrene quickly progresses. In an organism rotting and decomposition products that conducts to the general heavy reactions are soaked up: the temperature raises, arise shaking oznoby (shaking — in it is turned!) Intestines function is broken, the dream, appetite, language dry vanish, there is a slackness, block. All it creates deadly threat for a life of patients. Emergency surgical intervention … »Is required Yes-a-a, not poorly! I have looked at a thermometer: hardly is — 37 and 8. However, the organism could be warmed up from a kind portion gorilki. And block like is not present slackness, but it besides — a consequence of house pepper tincture … But, no, will suffice to deceive: I knew and understood soberly — extraneous surgical intervention in my intramuscular inflammatory affairs really, already urgently is required. It is visible, in me putrefactive disintegration has indeed begun. Br-r-r! I have crookedly grinned: — The aunt, it means — me a hand ottjapajut? — I do not know, — the former front nurse has severely refused anaesthetising words, — can and as you are expressed, ottjapat. And can and clean simply properly a wound. — And how much, at the best, I provaljajus in hospital? — In the best — month, and even two, and, God forbid, complications will go, and it is more. I sat as deafened. At all I do not like rigid situations in a life, and here it is direct in a sharp corner Destiny me has tired out. Not only that I risk a hand to lose (to that I, however, yet did not believe and to believe did not want) so in addition the diploma I will break, year I will lose. And to present itself in hospital chamber in another's city, among strangers, among old people … — I — to Moscow! — I have jumped from an armchair. Djadka with the aunt at once also have amicably waved hands. Vadim Nikolaevich liked me, and to think to it was sick, that it will lose suddenly and so suddenly daily both lawful charki at dinner and a supper. — Yes tipun to you, Vadja! Now a hand gorilochkoj we will wash out, kompressik we will make and — any doctors-charlatans it is not required. — Vadim, you has become crazy! — Hope Mihajlovna has from its part risen to me. — some hours Here are literally can appear fatal. You that to live already at all do not want? But me was not to stop any more. At me so always: the second explosive decision there and then becomes armour. Even if I a quarter of hour start to doubt and repent later of him. Only to Moscow! Affairs as though have turned, I at least will rescue the diploma. Yes there was and more one — undercover — the reason … I have given smacking kiss to the aunt at parting, have picked up and not unpacked bag and have rushed on station. The uncle, the moment having collected me in road sidor with meal and a bottle of an antiseptic liquid, and still having taken chekushku on provozhalnuju minute, hardly kept up with me. — To Moscow! To Moscow! To Moscow! — I shouted, as nervicheskaja heroine Chekhov, the truth, not aloud, and mentally, but with not smaller melancholy. To Moscow! 3 The car strange and disgustingly shook — jerks, spasmodically. Each push responded in the inflamed brains and the left hand. And someone's sharp excited voice vsverlivalsja in ears absolutely nearby, from the next shelf, however I could not disassemble-understand words. I have started to open eyes. Me at once zatoshnilo, in a stomach bulknulo. I nevertheless razlepil the swelled up eyelids — instead of a dark tree of a carload shelf over me in terrible height grew white a ceiling. The long tube of a luminescent lamp blinded dead light. Jolting and shouts proceeded. I have lowered a chin on a breast, hardly have raised a lead nape and have seen-has made out: a metal back of a cot on which I laid, to a back a waist privalilas a figure in a white dressing gown. She, shaking my bed, an is shrill-female voice reproached someone: — A pig! Hosh of neighbours would feel ashamed! Break off, I those have told! Shut up!. In the answer the man's whining treble was distributed: — Cattle gryobanaja! Bljad rasposlednjaja!. Well give — only time kurnu … One only a time, and! U-u-u, a bough! And still the daughter consanguineous … — Not on-to … — I have asked whisper. Nobody has heard me. — not on-to! Attention zero. I have coughed and, having typed from furiousness of forces, have moaned furiously: — Not on me-a-a to shake-i-i! The figure in a dressing gown has turned: the maid shchekastaja, ruddy — has stared neponimajushche. — You shake me, to me — is sick, to a head gives, — I from last forces have mumbled. — Podu-at-umaesh! — the maiden has suddenly taken offence, but, having distorted fat shoulders, has departed. I with simplification have leant back on a rigid pillow and have closed eyes. That-and-ak, means, I — in hospital … I have started to remember vaguely as in the car to me it became absolutely bad, the hand as if under torture on coals was roasted. I podpityval-supported myself all night long an aunty's medicine directly from a neck and did not get drunk, and only vzbodrjalsja. However at home, in DASe, I hardly have had time pomytsja-shave and undertake bandaging as hvor, having rejected jokes, has braided me seriously, have begun to smother — me have shaken. I peretruhnul, but have thought — a student's polyclinic on Lengory I will not reach, in the underground and I will flake out. It was knocked to administratorshe a floor, that has at first begun to doubt — whether from a hang-over me koryozhit, but, uvidav the unbandaged hand, has sighed, has typed 03. I and as have brought me to this zadripannuju old bolnichku, standing under century poplars and elms as straight off, hardly having changed clothes and not listening my inflamed hysterical objections, me potartali on a narrow infinite corridor, have clouded in operational with the fixture similar to UFO, pripechatali shovels to a cold table have remembered, have shut a mouth and a nose a suffocating luscious mask … And here, having remembered-having restored all it, I have gone through one of the heaviest minutes in the life. I felt a burning pain in the left hand, but only have now understood — the shoulder burns! Still being afraid to glance under a blanket, I have tried to stir the left hand … It was not! Indeed — on the shoulder!. Not to raise a howl in a voice, I have bitten a lower lip to a wild pain and have slowly raised a blanket — a hand washing, darling my left ruchenka was at me. It was stretched by a lash along a body, came to an end with a white massive doll. I even wished to deceive for a while myself, to assure, as if on a place and a palm, but it was visible and is clear — the hand is truncated. And still the first fright-shock about loss of all hand has helped me to realise-go through a true trouble. I have only philosophically sighed: itself it is guilty and already you will correct nothing … However, was yet to philosophy and not to sad repentances: me twisted-stirred up-koryozhilo so, that with any, even most terrible hang-over and to compare it is impossible. Similar, judging by film consumer goods, addicts during time lomki test. I with pleasure would run in a toilet and was turned inside out, but forces to be risen-rise was not. To ask a duck or as there this vessel name, I was yet able. Has begun to suffer. Has then thought: well the nurse to call — let soporific will stick, but no button alarm nearby was found out … Then by me I will angrily grin over this first sick desire, and then, fortunately, without any medicines again zaskolzil, zaskolzil downwards on infinite sloping descent as on sankah in the childhood from mountain, and it was buried in a friable and dark snowdrift of a dream. Next time I ochnulsja-has woken up, apparently, at late night. The twilight, only over an entrance door let out ominous red light a night lamp. Through pass, opposite to me, the same worthless voice pristanyval-whined: — Oh, mamanja! Mamanja!. Oh Th, well it?. Mamanja! Oh, mamanja!. And so — it is equal, mechanically, continuously. I have raised a head, have looked: there sat, having fallen off a back on a peak of the bed, muzhichonka, rocked here and there, having clamped both hands white kultju — the right foot was not on a groin. On a stool near to a cot the girl — not that, not recent, but thin sat, with a long plait — and silently looked at the sufferer. — Zinka! — that has moaned. — well allow to me to smoke! I will die after all — give! — It is impossible, the daddy, is impossible. You know. Fall asleep so … — U-u-u, the enemy! I thought, you are kinder Zojki, and you — there … Oh, mamonka-mamanja!. The muzhik wailed and talked in a full voice as if there was in populous chamber one. But I was not in time razdrazhitsja, as again unyrnul in saving sleepy unconsciousness though the hand and continued to burn as if the scalded. Probably, the organism has already got used to a pain, and brains could not be cleaned after a narcosis in any way. I have definitively come on this coast in already ardent afternoon, during detour. Has looked round. In chamber, long and narrow, a ceiling is dirty-white and with a stucco moulding on perimetre umahal from a floor of metres etak on five and a half, and even on all six. In this well it was stood-was restricted nine cots by end faces in the main pass. Behind peaks of the majority of them crutches were seen. Two doctors and the nurse with magazine have begun with an extreme cot at a door. On it sat, to see, just — in the morning — arrived dedulja a rural kind: toshchenky, a skewbald beard a nimbus, in a checkered shirt and the washed off dark blue body stockings with bubbles in a lap. The dense doctor, having stuck out a stomach, has stopped over it, has grumbling asked: — Well, what at us here happens? — Yes here, and itself I will not understand — making callous ordinary was and here … Dedok has rolled up a steering-wheel a trouser-leg, has exposed on a blanket a sinewy yellow foot. I have not gasped nearly: above an ankle it was cyanotically inflated, has deathly become shiny. The surgeon has fastidiously stuck into an anklebone with a finger, has wiped its piece of bandage. — Everything, the grandfather, otpljasalsja — we will cut, under the root. Well, it was thought, now the old man and will howl-will begin to wail, zavsplyoskivaet hands, will rush to ask the doctor … But old suddenly with simplification pochmokal dry lips, has unrolled vigorously faded trouser-leg back. — Well, here, and glory to you Hospodi! Now I will have a rest though on an old age of years. And that prjamochki have tortured, tyrants — both gonjut, and gonjut on job, all eksplatirujut. It is not enough them!. Who there the poor fellow eksplatiruet — remains while a riddle, doctors have moved further. The following, the elderly man with a sick foot, main too has ordered to prepare for operation. At three, except the whiner, opposite my neighbour, any more did not suffice on a foot. And the most very young in chamber, absolutely the fellow, has appeared and at all without both feet, but already prepared for an extract. The ninth sopalatnik it is dead laid in a corner with the torso rewound up and down — to it the day before ottjapali the right hand on the shoulder. The neighbour-plaksun when its turn has approached, has rushed to lament at once: — Oh, the doctor, oh I can not! Give me a prick what from a pain! I do not sleep, hapless, droplets!. — Where it I to you of pricks will be typed? — The doctor has unfriendly muttered. — has smoked the foot, suffer now. The muzhik you, oh, damn, or not! Others suffer … As I then already have asked-has found out in detail: legless in chamber the amputated finitenesses have smoked all — certainly, except the poor boy who have got under a tram. Here so yes! And I all listened to terrible medical preventions-propaganda materials about endarternit obliterating, yes never believed, laughed. My mummies, yes it is necessary after all to fasten with smoking! Running forward, I will tell: the person is weak. My fear immediately has disappeared, only I have got out of hospital, and I then as early as smoked a year three … However, about it speech ahead. And then, in chamber, the doctor, having sat down by me, it is terrible me puganul: to me, as he said, though days to get on an operational table … earlier And now it is not excluded — the black poison-decay is not stopped, will spread further and then … That then — he could and not finish speaking. Some days and I lived nights trjasunom and each time during painful bandaging all inside at me broke, faded. However the doctor grumbling, once again attentively having surveyed kultju, with astonishment hemmed: — It is necessary! Carries to you, the guy, and me too — superfluous job, like, is not expected Already it is a lot of time later, considering all it, I have come to conclusion: and after all in any measure it also has rescued me — Lena. Yes-yes! Terrible portions of an antibiotic, destroying a sinful infection, have in passing strangled, it is visible, and a part gangrennyh microbes, have detained terrible putrefactive process. It would be necessary to consult more in detail about it with physicians, yes all I forget. And more: to a tomb (and to it, maybe, also remains to me — a step-two!) good I will recollect that stately, grumbling and rough by sight the surgeon on a surname of Pots. It without ceremony could saw off-ottjapat without any efforts ruchenku mine both on an elbow, and on the neck not to trouble itself(himself) then with repeated operation … Give the God to it to decent pension under an old age and liking not huliganistyh vnuchat! Nevertheless the world, despite of everything, not without kind people. 4 But it I now such vumnyj as vutka, only votrubi do not eat. Then, when I have regained consciousness completely and absolutely, soul washing as at the known disgraced traveller, by sufferings of the people it became wounded. I mean the ljud-people boleznyj, and first of all—. All enraged me, irritated, drove in melancholy: both a pain continuous, and this doctor inconsiderate, and nurses barking by wolfhounds in spotty dressing gowns, and pricks from a huge horse syringe — one for three patients (the blessing, about AIDS then these ducks smelly, and constant presence at our man's chamber dshcherej did not hear), and the whiner, and hunger outright exasperated. This week, yet has not found for me Arkasha, I could become quite distrofikom if remained only on an underfoot hospital forage. Clearly, that obshchepitovskie cooks steal all, however in this the private soldier bolnichke pishcheblokovtsy were ill kleptomaniej in especially sharp inflamed form. In the first day when I have regained consciousness already far after a dinner, the neighbour on the right — the recovering fleshy old man without the left foot with grey budyonnovskimi moustaches — has sympathised: — Toshnit, podi?. I Know, I know, not to meal now, and here to have a drink it is necessary … On e, I to you a seagull sladenkogo from stolovki have asked — take ake on a bedside table. I have looked: on our general with this grandfather to a bedside table there were two thick glass tumblers with vodichkoj. Seeing my bewilderment, the neighbour has thought suddenly: — Oh, and in what seagulls? I and itself have forgotten. Nu … It has taken a sip from one glass, then from another and udovletvoryonno has straightened moustaches. — Here it, seagulls — with saharkom. Drink, darling. I have first thought: a pier, the dedok-veteran plays me, to entertain wants a naive joke, however was could not reflect and it would not be desirable — I, having muffled fastidiousness, is greedy vyhlebal tea. But then I was convinced, that Andrey Ivanych so called my neighbour, and did not think jokes to joke — in hospital stolovke treated to colourless tea, liquid suptsem, dry porridge and prigoreloj fish. So to me involuntarily it was necessary to use in the beginning of a hospital life Andrey Ivanycha's kindliness with which supruzhnitsa regularly supplied sidorami with veteran quite fat ration. However, for half-smoked kolbasku, the condensed milk and house pies with a liver was necessary to me to pay in time and attention. Andrey Ivanych passionately liked povspominat the fighting youth, a youth — when it was the dashing Red Army man-konnikom. He somehow held back last war: whether in a captivity has visited, whether in back has sat out. First I with hardly hidden sigh postponed Montaigne, in delirium taken by me in hospital, and, suppressing zevotu, listened to ardent memoirs of the veteran. But already soon zevota has ceased to exasperate me. One business, that Andrey Ivanych has appeared the story-teller from the God, pictured all fascinatingly, zrimo, but he besides has mentioned-has dropped to a case the city name — Rams. Here I have begun to listen all soul. It appears, in 1921 Andrey Ivanych then still the son of a regiment without moustache in army of commander Tukhachevsky, smashed gangs of the ardent enemy of the Soviet power, bloody reptile Antonova. Fuse especially to me in memory one episode from Andrey Ivanycha's memoirs: gallant commander Tukhachevsky, unlike predecessors-drivellers, declared to the bandit south mortal and ruthless fight. He has issued the order: the people, refusing to name the name, to shoot on a place extrajudicially. In settlements where gangsters are noticed to take hostages and to shoot them if gangsters do not surrender. And more: if the weapon will be found in the house at whom — to shoot on a place and without court of the owner-concealer. — And here in village one, — told Andrey Ivanych, wiping lips and moustaches from Odessa grease kolbaski, — shchas and names I will not remember, we have stopped with my company at which I signal served, in a log hut extreme. And there — the fellow, the senior from five, my coeval — years of thirteen. I, by itself, on it from top to down tsirkaju through a tooth: on me budyonovka with a star, a soldier's blouse, a belt intercepted, riding breeches on half-hectare, a draught fighting on one side yes a revolver in a linen holster. This boy round me Vertelsja-span, sljuni from zavidok started up, and has then decided something, has withdrawn me for a shed, snivels has wiped and whispers: say, knows-saw, where the grandfather with a draught has dug its rifle. Only, grit, a rifle take away, and a draught to me — I, grit, too I wish to be at war in Red Army at the nice commander of uncle Tukhachevsky … Well absolutely still malets silly — the milksop. And its grandfather indeed experienced bandjugoj has appeared, for nothing, that the poor man from poor men. Already when the shed wall had under barrels, a toothless mouth rashljaval, the shirt poskonnuju was jerked on a breast yes as will begin to yell: «I-I-tyrants! Ubivtsy! A cross on you, gangsters, no!» You represent, it, antonovsky a reptile, gangsters and has christened us. And it is hardy it has appeared, for nothing, that lean — a real skeleton. Twice volley was necessary to allow — to spend cartridges. — And the fellow? — I have asked. — That the fellow? — Well, this fellow, the grandson — where during execution was? — A-a-a … Yes I do not remember. Like, in the same place also there was … It then to us asked, yes who it takes — the gangster degenerate … To admit, and I then, confused kompropagandoj, considered Antonova as the gangster, and Tukhachevsky the hero, but all the same I was amazed here with these treacherous tupogolovost one of forerunner Pavlika Morozova. And I see, how there is it — in short rubashonke, fragmentary pants — behind a rank of Red Army men and with curiosity observes, extends a neck … However, certainly, the sandwich with kolbaskoj from shchedrot a gerojsko-veteran ration I ukusyvat has not ceased, but, smothering banditsko-fighting memoirs, has translated to another: — Andrey Ivanych, and what is this a city such — Rams? Beautiful though? — And the devil only knows. I after all in him also did not happen since then. And then only three days in most Baranove stood, then to district have gone, and here after me and has wounded for the first time. The only thing of that I remember: two streets city only also are — one lengthways, another across. And the rest — village village and a dirt completely … H'm, strange, she told in another way — beautiful and cosy small town. It … I have got from under a pillow weighty volume litpamjatnika, have opened, have stared. Already zadryomyvajushchy Andrey Ivanych quite could think, as if I find-absorb Michel Montaigne's knowledge, like: «to Reflect on death — means to reflect on freedom. Who has learnt to die, that has forgot to be the slave. Readiness to die relieves us of any submission and compulsion. Also is not present in a harm life for this purpose, who has comprehended what to lose a life — not angrily …» Uh, and gold, platinum words! However, I did not ponder upon that instant at all in philosophising of the great Frenchman — I considered secretly from sopalatnikov fotopornuhu. Itself I do not know, what makarom those five facsimiles of Lena have got suddenly to the wise book, and together with it and in hospital. I especially long study one picture liked by me: Lena lays on one side over a blanket, has propped up a head a hand, fun-lovingly smiles in an objective, grudki French, about a cam, — for show, treugolnichek hair, an is gentle-smooth bend of a hip; all small, pretty, native … Bough the nasty! 5 Arkasha has appeared, as the genie from a bottle, suddenly. And, of course, with a bottle — yes not one. I so was delighted to it — to tears: they have directly scattered at me from eyes, when uvidal I its lanky figure at a column in a gloomy lobby of hospital. The friend has rushed to me towards, hmelno-raised both from wine, and from a meeting, but has suddenly faltered, has stared with a fright at mine kultju on perevjazi. — Vadim! — he has screamed and has stopped, not knowing as as speak in such cases. I have recollected, how years for ten before have come to the schoolmate to hospital. It has got under a motorcycle — to it cut off a foot. As it was painful to me that minute when I have seen it is already on crutches, poor, — as could not find neither words, nor intonation … — Arkasha! — I have twisted a crying mine, taking away it in a lonely corner. — you represent, now maids tolechko one hand to me to embrace and feel — a nightmare! It has looked at me was struck dumb, yet not having caught a tonality. — And stoppers?! How I will extend stoppers from wine Bulgarian now — and? And I have foolishly howled, quietly priskulivaja. Friend Arkasha has revived at once, was straightened, vshohotnul. — Anything, Vadka, we will break! Bulgarian not Bulgarian, and your liked Crimean portveshok tutochki, with me, — it has shaken the diplomat. We have hidden under a ladder march where already to us equipped from the broken wheelchair svidalnuju a bench. Arkasha has got a large bottle, unpacked, has broken off on a chunk from a long loaf and has cleared on sausage. Thrifty my friend has not forgotten to take and stakashek. We have drunk at first for friendship, then, not delaying, for everything, that well comes to an end and at once doopustoshili a large bottle not to be taken red-handed. podzakusili also have quietly lighted. Arkasha has started to picture, as it has arrived from studlagerja tired and devastated — in all senses as has seen mine zapison on the bed as has rushed at once here, and on road — to shops … I was full, drunk also a nose at me was in tobacco. I was ready to kiss friend Arkashu, but at us, courageous, a life of beaten Siberians, was not found this is Moscow-pedikovskoj habits — to be licked to the muzhik with the muzhik. I only strong at parting have shaken hands with it the escaped hand and without everyones yornichany have told: — Well, Arcady, you is a real friend! Thanks. — Yes it is fine, — zasmushchalsja my grenadier, — each Soviet student on my place would arrive as! Well there could not be it serious in any way. I have returned to chamber already recovering, being carried under the arm newspaper parcel with a long loaf, sausages, a bottle "Crimean" and three packs of "Java". Eh, and here about it I also have not asked — whether have arrived, what yes as? — And friend Arcady himself has not guessed. Though, he has told, that in DASe and five minutes has not stayed, so hardly and that knows. At home, that is, fie, in chamber our vile I first of all have shown to Andrey Ivanychu already raspechatannoe Arkashej a neck of the villain — and? The veteran has swallowed slobbers, but has waved hands. — That you, that you! At me pressure — and taste has forgotten. Then I quietly, am direct from newspaper parcel, have strained off to myself in a glass of a sweet-intoxicated elixir and, prihlyobyvaja, have begun to dream, looking after a window. The sad ragged dome of church there was seen. But thoroughly kejfovat and to pull tasty bother of intoxicated thought that stirred hmyr opposite. This time near it the younger daughter, Zina was on duty. With it the bore behaved more silently, but completely is the person this animal could not any more. Dshcher has just taken out from under it a fetid duck whom he demanded on ten times on day, and now the sufferer sat, having fallen off on pillows, had a rest. From time to time it it is loud otrygival or loudly started up violent tart winds. On him one vest in yellow potyokah dangled and stains, it did not carry pants — the lean back is adorned zelyonkoj. It it is stupid, mechanically massed a stump, scratching in passing former man's personal belongings, and suddenly it is habitual the vile jingling voice zakanjuchil: — Well give me kurnut, and … the Time only … Ah and rubbish you too, Zinka! Smoke-and-it I want!. And it from disappointment so has deafeningly rumbled-has burst with back, that the daughter has shuddered, has involved a head in shoulders, but at all has not turned back, continued, powerlessly having dropped hands on knees, to look out of the window, on an old dome without a cross. I examined in an emphasis it is a humanoid and thought: well, here for what it still lives? Whether always this muzhik was such, or from misfortune of the so skurvilsja?. Really and I am sometime capable to come to the such? Here to you and — gomo the sapiens … Here to you and — Michel Montaigne … Here to you and: the person is sounds is proud … Thoughts have started to cling the friend for the friend, to intertwine snakes, to be confused. Suddenly before me there was live Michel Montaigne — bald, with moustaches as at Arkashi, in a magnificent jabot, with wise usmeshlivym a sight — and, having threatened with a thin finger with a massive ring, has given out: «Remember, the life should be lived so that it was not painfully sick for aimlessly lived years!.» — Neustroyev! Neustroyev is in this chamber? I am thrown up. — There have come — below. Judging by zatemnevshemu to a window, evening was already condensed. Sprosonok I will not think in any way: Arcady, whether that, has again appeared suddenly? Heart for some reason beats. I cover with the washed off spotty pyjamas with holes on elbows, almost run I slip a corridor, сбегáю on a ladder on the ground floor and — as if I upirajus-fight a forehead about tolstennoe glass. At a column — it. In the high fox cap, checkered paltishke with a red collar, velveteen black trousers. In hands — a package with the half-naked couple advertising jeans “Lee”. A sight — strained, guilty and the devil only knows what there still. I look for about a minute at it from above, holding a massive oak door the right hand. My heart is turned and jams in a close costal cage. Painfully. I do a step back. I close slowly a door … Later minutes five in chamber prosharkivaet the old nurse, unloads to me on bed a package with a kissing jeans couple. — You, what l, Neustroyev will be? Here — to pass veleno. — Thanks, — I mutter and I look in a cellophane interior — oranges, a forfeit, block "Java". And — a note on a newspaper scrap: «What you the fool, Neustroyev!» 6 Especially first time after hospital was dushnovato. I went as if in any vacuum bag — me obviously avoided. And can be, to me it is all only it was thought, and I to myself, on a usual masochistic habit, complicated a life. Could well, that anybody and did not look with wild annoying curiosity on my left, terminating in emptiness, a sleeve. Eh if at once it was possible prisobachit an artificial limb! With Arkashej we still lived in perfect harmony. It strange and sharply suddenly has become serious, has given otlup to all to the babyoshkam, has sobered up and for days on end rustled in the corner with newspapers, cooked the diploma. A theme it took solid: «Frequency of the use of high words-concepts“ party "," communism "," the Political bureau ”in materials of the central newspapers». Arcady with enthusiasm prepared "Truth", "Member of the Komsomol", "News", the material was typed plentiful, and druzhishche I in good time has been assured of an excellent estimation of the works just. I with the diploma have got to annoying unforeseen cover. No, with a material at me problems too did not arise: parallel perusal of verses of Yesenin and Rubtsova gave rise to the whole plenty of thoughts, feelings, associations, conclusions and assumptions. The diploma писáлся, filled, got fat — was born. But suddenly the teacher — the darling intelligent dotsentochka which I have chosen posazhenoj mother to the child — has urgently escaped in the decree to give birth to the child, and the head of my diploma automatically became zavsha P.A.Seraja's chair. Here here I also have howled. Another has pulled hard also: till the end of March it was required to solve definitively something with distribution. The editor of "Glory of Sevastopol» has sent a call-acknowledgement: for me there wait. Wait?. First, I also could not imagine, as after all it I will meet that Lena. And secondly, mortally it would not be desirable to go the invalid there where me saw and remembered high-grade, cheerful and cheerful. Home, in transbaikalian poor backwoods, for the same reason — and in general! — it would not be desirable and it was not wished. Especially, I still dreamt of the literature, on glory. And it is known, where at us the literature breathes — in Moscow only yes near to it. I, by the way, already sliped few times in the Central House of writers for poetic evenings, have inhaled, so to say, poisons of a bohemian capital life. At me the selection in one communal grave — the collective collection prepared, the pair my poetic shedevrovyh opuses was published by "Literary Russia». Besides I there and, being in practice, some reviews tisnul … In! And if in «Lit. Russia» to try to be distributed, and? And that, much our children from DASa during time an expert started up backs in capital editions, got accustomed in them. Certainly, it is necessary to be ordered about while without a residence permit, without certain habitation, but ahead, ahead — light in the end of the tunnel, the future, career, glory, money and funeral on Novodevichem … Is not present, jokes jokes, and to lose to me there is nothing — I will try, I will risk. I have decided to spend the next days developing attack in Color parkway. I in all these poslebolnichnye practically did not see days it. Time three we faced in dasovskoj a dining room, yes just once at faculty. In me each time as though happened short circuit, serdchishko skukozhivalos. I on feet-stilts passed by, diligently turning away. It, I felt, stared at me, but too was silent. The word of honour, I up to the end did not understand or was afraid to understand — that occurs to me. I behave, as juvenile shket. When I — eventually, from the end in the end! — I will mature? In one of evenings is in April, 13th, in my birthday — we with friend Arcady have slightly relaxed. The mother naskrebla to me by this day off-schedule transfer so for two I the holiday has arranged quite on-kupetski, in a big way. Has bought a bottle tryohzvyozdochnogo Armenian, the fire extinguisher of champagne, oranges, forfeits are for cocktails. And on zakuson — sound to cheese, good Poltava kolbaski, a jack mackerel jar in butter and two packs frozen pelmeshek. The feast has gone right. Arcady has presented to me a smart lighter-pistol — for one-armed kurtsa in the point. That, golubenkuju Leningrad zazhigalochku, Arcady, under my request, together with Montaigne and slippers for a long time vozvernul to the address, still when I in hospital rolled. And with matches I oh as was worn out — with some difficulty to adapt to odnorukosti the damned. I, by the way, did not get tired to thank the Lord of the God that has preserved to me right — professional — a hand, and that it should the unfortunate journalist to study anew letters to draw. And so, kindly podkoktejlivshis, we with Arkashej have taken in head to go down downwards — in a film concert hall. There everyones constantly stayed with us well o-o-very interesting people: that the great magician and wizard Jury Gornyj, popular actor Alexander Kalyagin severe humorist Arcady Arkanov poet-architect Andrey Voznesensky, and time there was even Alla Borisovna Pugachyova and under a grand piano dressed in rags to us songs zabesplatno sang. Here only, alas, has never turned in shumlivyj and hospitable DAS on a way to mother Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky. However, when we finished university, it was laid-was based the second year on Vagankovsky … And that evening, on my birthday, the sociologist, the writer and the expert in love »Jury Rjurikov has turned in the House of active sex on a spark known as have presented it in the poster,«. When we with Arcady have made the way in a habitual tenth row, the visitor already with might and main educated dense studiozusov, overflowed a capacious hall, as regards love. I have listened, penetrating — he really informed curious enough things. It appears: when there is an inclination between the man and the woman at level, so to say, brains, mind is generates respect; if souls adjoin is already friendship; when there is a heat from contact of bodies is the passion is called; and here when all three inclinations — here it merge together and there is a love, present and original … I have suddenly felt something, have turned back: behind, through two numbers, hardly Lena obliquely sat. She looked at me. I have flashed, have turned away. The expert in love continued to educate with enthusiasm dark youth, I tried to listen attentively, but perceived all somehow punktirno, obryvochno. Is, it appears, double optics of love: we underestimate lacks of the liked person, advantages — we exaggerate … to Like, means — to understand … Minet in love — not a distortion … the Egoist can be enamoured, but — not to like … the Main change in love not physical, and — psychological, change by soul … I it listened to all as though her ears. When the meeting has ended, blshaja the part very grounded in the love theory dasovtsev has jerked now in stolovku. Arcady has sedately gone to our cocktails and sausage. — Arkash, — I have adhered it for an elbow already on an exit from a winter garden, — look, only not stopping: Lenka — behind? My grenadier has turned out a neck, has sharp-sightedly looked round over goals. — Yes, costs at hall doors, looks here. To call, can? — Sh-sh-shto you! — I have hissed gjurzoj on innocent the spindle-legs. — We go. In the glass bunker before watch I what for have curtailed to post cells, have begun to touch not demanded letters, cards and transfers on "N". Arcady, knowingly grinning, stuck out nearby. — Well, look, look — where it? — Has gone in edalnju, looks back. — Well and lines from it! — I have suddenly become angry. — Ajda to celebrate further. In a room I from an Armenian-starlejskoj bottle bulked up on a half-glass and have drunk at one draught the portion. Then, greedy extending from a cigarette the hot smoke being silent walked around a room, has taken a sip still a recovering moisture. And — has rushed from a room. We have faced on watch … As it was then found out, it already almost dostojala in turn stolovskoj, on a tray has put already cabbage salad, as suddenly unknown force has pushed out it from ogolodavshej crowds, has pulled, has entailed, has dragged … We practically also did not speak — any interjections, exclamations, scraps of phrases. I there and then, on eyes to all the got used watchwoman, have embraced-has pressed to myself Lena. The sharp pain has pierced a crippled hand. And our first kiss after bottomless separation has turned to a kiss-groan. Further I remember, besides, vaguely, sketchy, incoherently. Only vpechatalis in memory here these sudden, as ominous preventions, pain flashes: we constantly chafed a wound. Friend Arkasha, uvidav us on a threshold with shone persons and muddy looks, has there and then evaporated. Then, the next three days, it that appeared, disappeared, exposed on a table fresh bottles — for support of a holiday and our forces. We did not get out of bed almost. We could not have a good long talk, see enough, be sated. Strong compressing embraces, all of us tried and tried to merge in a single whole. Minutes of rest and a pacification I have joked tenderly and is light: — Well, what, it would be available like all three inclinations — both minds, and souls, and a body, and? Leaves, the rights the descendant of Old Russian princes! — You know, — is serious and is mild Lena has told, having inclined over me the person and looking in depth me, — I after all never believed, that such happens. I at times approached to the door your room — here this last month, — and at me heart faded … I like you — understand? Still not to understand! I only was afraid to believe up to the end, what is it I, Vadim Neustroyev who was born 13th, is I has extended in a lottery the happy ticket. And ahead — the happiness, one only happiness and anything except happiness. My God — for what?! <<<(P. 3) (P. 5)>>>
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© Rosedkin Sergey Nikolaevich, 2001
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