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- Sergey Rosedkin - |
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p r about z and |
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Main | News | Cut-away | fotobio | Prose | About Dostoevsky | J. Roberts | Humour | Non-fikshn | Criticism | Young Porn |
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Siege The story 1So the soul was ill this day Belief, what even tears unjustly continually navorachivalis on eyes. It has straight off got nasty with the chief, only that has given a hint was to reproach her for delay, has completely quarrelled with polinoj, the nearest friend on job. In the evening, uncombed and excited, from last forces has made the way in a trolley bus, it was dragged to mother. On heart pressed weight. It would be desirable to lie down somewhere in a dry warm corner on a soft sofa and to lie down. The trolley bus, as always in the evening, reminded bedlam: shouts, abuse, circulation on the feet, drunk mad eyes. Places free, by itself, — uniform. Any old galosh has squeezed Belief to a rigid edge of a seat so, that has intercepted breath. She, hardly constraining herself, has kept silent. Suddenly absolutely nearby, over an ear, the sticky voice was distributed: — And anything tyolka. SHCHas we will meet... Intoxicated toshnotnyj the musty smell has concerned with the Belief nostril. It obmerla: «My God, really to me?» It now did not have only drunk stickings. But an instant later the Belief has understood — look after not it. The small little girl has got to a trouble — in points, beretike. She tried to keep silent, but two osovelyh a dog with dirty nails and grease muzzles have got down to business seriously. — Well you, blja, chyo turn back a nose? We in an amicable way, are not rude... — Lag behind, please! Well do not touch, well do not touch me! The voice of the little girl interrupted. A scene sotvorjalas in vacuum. The belief felt, knew — it is necessary to interfere, it is necessary so to be absent here: the little girl even in its back pushed, beating off from geeks. But the Belief knew and another — no force will force it to make this feat: «Well why I? Why? Muzhiks how much...» — E! E! What here occurs? — A strict hail. The trolley bus has with relief taken breath — from a forward platform the militiaman squeezed. The belief has jumped out at the stop — directly in a fat pool. The damned carrier! The dog where stops does not see? A reptile creeping!. The belief delightfully, in ohotku swore whisper, convulsively searched in a mirror circle for the person: ink has, of course, floated, eyes — as at a doe-rabbit. Horror! She has bitterly sighed, has wiped the person a kerchief, has put validol under language and has got an umbrella — a rain not a rain, but any drizzle from above flied. The belief has trudged to the house of mother. «And that it I so have become unstuck? podi — magnetic storms again...» Somewhere there, in most-most glubinochke its consciousnesses the heavy alarm moved: something just about happens. The belief, itself deceiving, this suppressed thought, removed-hid — she believed in presentiments and was afraid of them. As all the same it is heavy on a shower! 2At Anton the mood also was all the day long rather-rather nasty. Neither in magnetic storms, nor in presentiments he did not believe and believed, that pays off for yesterday's beer. Beer was categorically forbidden it — it already rolled in hospital with a stomach three times. But as here you will be kept, if you go by shop, and there have thrown out fresh "Zhigulevsk", moreover there is no normal turn: so, only the person thirty thirsting had time to jump up to unloading. Anton occasionally and rasstaralsja — has seized ten bottles. It is more than half yesterday also has remained sitting. Moreover has kneaded tushku terribly salty jack mackerel of cold smoking. Here today also span — in a stomach as if who twisted screws. Though the mother-repku sing! In a head rough seditious thoughts climbed: «It any more a life... If so to a tomb to suffer, better... To Wait, while you will decay alive?.» Do not think — obryvochki. Coherently and full to think bojazno: who knows it, what it is possible to guess. In "Member of the Komsomol" has slipped: for a year in blest our country of eighty thousand persons a point in the destiny have put... Lines s that in bashku climbs! Anton took the diplomat — ogo, tjazhyolenek. A-a-a, has absolutely forgotten — Solzhenitsyn. Here unique pleasure for all day: at last to it "Archipelago GULAG" have got. Tek-with, tek-with, tek-with... Three tolstennyh volumes. And from the mother-in-law it is necessary — by tradition — a potato to drag, jam, compote... It is necessary to leave Alexander Isaevicha... But today — Friday? M-m-m... Good, is deeper in a table to hide, papers to cover and lock, and tomorrow in the morning — there is nothing — it is necessary to approach. It has closed an office, has pulled a door, has handed over keys to the watchwoman and, screwing up the face, massing from time to time the stomach, was dragged on foot on the become limp October sidewalks. The mother-in-law lived from its office not too far... — Hear, the fellow countryman! Anton has started. Before it rocked obrazina in greased bolonevoj to a jacket — unshaven, it is stinking the breathing. — Hear, zemelja, rubel it is necessary. Fragmentary only. Does not suffice … Anton has strained. Steps to twenty, at doors of wine-vodka shop smoked and two spat more obraziny, glanced at it. Usually Anton tried to pass this place the party, yes here has reflected. — Is not present at me, — he has sharply thrown and has tried to pass the extortioner. That has stepped across. — And to look, zemelja, and? Pockets rummage around, look. Itself you understand — on a bubble does not suffice. Anton has thought suddenly: not that tonality took. With these jackals it is necessary in another way... Once, also on autumn, it went sent to Pskov. Has pleased on target. Since morning has sight-seen a city, and has got to theatre in the evening. But whether performance did not inspire, whether the weariness from road has braided — has overcome zevota. In an interval has put on, left. Also has given in to lyrics, has decided to walk on foot on pozdnevechernemu to ancient Pskov. Road imagined already enough clearly: soon left to a gloomy bulk kremlja, has curtailed on the bridge through Great. Night — is light, the moon — shines: poetry! Moreover on the bridge lanterns almost all tselyohonki. But behind the bridge — a gloom and a darkness. But Anton, seeing not far behind houses and fences has not accelerated sparkling tapes of floors of hotel "Riga", a step, there were measuredly, hands in raincoat pockets, in a head — dreams. And suddenly behind, because of the right shoulder: — Hey, the muzhik, matches give! — a voice. And a voice any dangerous, concealing threat, vile. Anton has instantly understood, that vlip in history. He has become puzzled and, not knowing still, as to conduct what to do, silently has turned back, has seen small years of sixteen, exactingly, impudently looked to it in eyes, and hardly behind three more dark, netoropko going figures. Anton, not stopping and not answering, continued to go all the same walking step. So it would be desirable to jerk — to hotel remains metres poltorasta. — Well, matches are at you, I ask? Hey, you! Well stop! Anton has felt tenacious fingers on a sleeve. There was last instant: now it will seize at first by a hand, then for a neck... On a roadway cars — by, by were occasionally carried by... By! And here, as if the God has advised Anton. It has slowly turned the person to tripping sideways shakalyonku and outwardly firmly, haughtily, even has slightly derisively uttered: — The young man, you though malenko think — to whom it is possible to stick, and to whom are not present? And again, not stopping: time-two, time-two... Hotel – already here it darling: a hand a tax. That hardly pootstal, has then caught up, has grasped again a sleeve. — Well stop, to talk it is necessary! Anton, feeling, that it is impossible to stop in no event, it was developed on the move and more more rigidly, suppressing, has spoken: — Here that, the young man, I now will get the certificate and I will invite with myself to pass. Clearly? What such certificate has suddenly jumped out, he and itself did not know — an impromptu. And again: top... top... He did not turn around. In ears even zasverbelo: what there behind? It is audible Nothing. Has curtailed on a path running to a bright entrance of hotel, and only then has smoothly turned back — four stood at a fence, already in the distance, conferred, gesticulated. Anton has passed at once in restaurant, has reserved two hundred vodkas, has drunk at one draught. Hands shook, the vest to a back has stuck. Anton even to imagine up to the end was afraid, what's happened, remain it face to face in deserted street with those dark figures...
Now he always at collision with beings from this — another — the world tried to take tone, calmness. Here and now, having measured hanurika a sight with kudlatoj heads to poryzhelyh shtiblet, Anton has derisively, pejoratively asked: — What, the young man, at you — problems? That was taken aback from such sharp change, has receded on a step. — CHyo, problems? Rubel it is necessary — does not suffice... Anton has become angry, has moved on it. — Well, we will go with me. Quickly! The guy has started back, has given in. — Yes you chyo? Anywhere I will not go! For me wait... And it was threw to friends, looking back on Anton. It would be necessary to rejoice to a victory, but on a shower so it is dreary, that — well all of them to hell! What is it created, and? What is up? In presentiments Anton did not believe. 3When left from the mother-in-law — absolutely svecherelo. Zanudil already present dense rain. Wished to wait, but it is known: an autumn rain — long. To spend the night at Eudoxia Petrovny, whether that? potopali. Belief with Natashkoj — under umbrellas. Anton has lifted a raincoat collar, has lowered a hat on ears, has stooped — in both hands on a weighty bag with banks, a potato, an onion. Weight of life! Natashka ahead floats-acts. See you, thirteen years of everything, and there, the puny person! Gait, gait what: indeed — floats. And — here news! — these trousers fashionable, grated-ground. Varyonki, whether that? Whence they at it? The mother-in-law, it is visible, again loads with presents. — Natashka! — That? — Whence at you this disgrace standing? Is not a disgrace, these are very fashionable, beautiful and practical trousers. Here also put to it a finger in a mouth. Paces — thin, small, and already — the woman, the adult person. Soon boyfriends will be got — the beauty! That there to hide: the daughter, the daughter, dochushenka has gone right... Lines, here from tenderness the throat intercepts, and aloud is not uttered. — Natashka that has removed this nasty thing. Such obscene trousers only maidens of easy behaviour carry. — And at me, daddies your way — heavy behaviour? Well here, now to shout it is necessary. After all the foolish woman does not know, does not guess, what torments are undergone by it, the father, thinking about its destiny. Yes unless she understands, in what world lives, on what razor-edge every day goes? Anton at times, looking on razmalyovannyh, smoking on the move tsigarkami, with frank bljadskimi eyes of the girls who have captivated streets of a city, unexpectedly spoke to itself: «If Natashka becomes such — I will kill!» And here, please, — already trousers prostitutskie has got on. Eh, Natashka, Natashka, the foolish woman you ours... It is necessary to be at war today. — Yes lag behind you the little girl! — razdrazhilas Belief. — not in trousers business. — Just in trousers. It — not trousers, and a signboard, an appeal to guys: «Approach, I — am ready!» — Fie on you! Cease, really, and so hard on heart. Have become silent. The rain rustled. Puddles underfoot squelched. Handles of one of bags oppositely creaked: hr-r... hr-r... hr-r... Have curtailed on International — in the street with such bulky and ridiculous name the destiny spodobila them to live. Here and a native hut — the ten-storied brick fortress, pressed down itself the whole quarter. Sharp ledges and deepenings on a facade the house resembled a huge cranked shaft. In front at level of the second floor the glass parallelepiped of shop "Clothes" hung. Its show-windows poorly shone deep light. Just under a green neon of "Clothes" there was their entrance — in the centre of the house. Anton always tried to slip under the hung shop more bright and Belief with Natashkoj hurried. It was remembered, how right at the beginning when shop have only just consecrated, literally for the second day of its job, is more correct — night, the whole flight of a wall with all show-windows and advertising «Welcome has failed!». Thanks God, at three o'clock in the morning of passers-by under stenoju does not happen — has done without victims. Sides of ill-fated shop have propped up iron beams, but it is better not to be too long under its hung hulk, not to test destiny. Good — have slipped. Before rising on steps, Anton has habitually looked upwards — it's OK. Under the witty project of the architect (that to it to pension not to hold on!) it is direct over an entrance transitive balconies were piled up by the whatnot. This silly staircases were in the house absolutely separately from inhabited sections. If you walk upstairs, on the necessary floor it is necessary to pass on a balcony street then only you will get to a corridor with apartments. Patsanyo, by itself, liked to lounge about on these balconies: it is interesting to spit downwards on heads entering, and even to dump something more essentially and more hard. Once Eudoxia Petrovna has rushed to them into apartment choking, mortally frightened: it appears, only it has ascended to the first step of a porch as it is direct before it the empty bottle and — into smithereens has gasped about concrete. Still a step and — a buzzing baj! That-and-ak... At an entrance again a darkness. One bulb below, at mail boxes was usually shone at least. Today and that is not present. Anton, chertyhnuvshis, has passed one bag to Belief, has got keys, has to the touch dissolved the box. — it is a lot of newspaper: probably, «Lit. Russia», "Member of the Komsomol", local... Aha, a card any... From whom, interestingly? — Any lift does not work. I congratulate! — a grumbling voice of Belief. Well, certainly — all under mood. Were dragged on the fifth floor peshedralom. At balcony doors dimly gleamed street lanterns. It is intolerable smelt as urine, a latrine... Anything, anything, we will now be corked in apartment: a hot bath, a nourishing supper, newspapers fresh — we will correct mood, we will break. Here and the fifth floor. Te-e-ek-with, glass corrugated at doors again gapes a breach star. A heel sadanuli, bastards. The balcony — is empty, behind a wide column-prop — anybody. And happens, two-three are stood-are pounded, smoke, matjugajutsja, cynically look. Nearby, on a balcony wall, ordinary — patterns fresh: have urinated already, have facilitated souls. The door in the first platform is opened. Platform — high and narrow, as a wardrobe. Bulbs are not present. A door in the following platform where a refuse chute and the lift, it is closed — on a spring. Natashka — the first. Has pulled on itself a door, has stepped. Also has recoiled. Well-well, what the such? Anton has intercepted bags one hand, has pushed aside the daughter and the wife a shoulder, has stepped itself. In platform — and it is extensive enough, metres twenty, in him is dry, warmly and purely, — kompashka. Boys of a piece four, two guys are more senior also the maiden. The maiden absolutely naked, costs having bent to a radiator. Over it one of guys potters about. What nasty thing! Have broken off, have turned to Anton, have stared. The guy, the second of seniors, has torn off a bottle from a mouth, lips licks, looks — while without expression, an empty sight. Even the maiden has bent a neck from the battery, is drunk looks out: chyo there? hto there? Only that, over it, does not distract, works, puffs — has seized. Anton, holding with an elbow a door behind the back, has reached a door in a corridor (the moron the architect has gone mad on doors and platforms!), the step aside has receded: — Quickly! Belief with Natashkoj have whisked — hasty, it is a pity, it is a shame. Anton, feeling drilling sights, not in forces to turn a head on a wooden neck — and it would be necessary, it would be necessary to look, besiege in an emphasis! — with the slowed down movement has covered one door, then, having stepped in a corridor, another. Only one bulb — in the centre burns. Slowly, has sedately gone. top... top... top... Here at the left already 90th apartment, on the right — 95th... top... top... top... The Corridor the long, as in a barrack or in a hostel. On the left — two doors: three-room apartments. To the right — four: along the edges — two-room, in seryodke — odnojachejnye. Here to the right and native 93rd. The door is upholstered by brown leatherette, the eye with watchfulness looks out, two locks sparkle — everything, as at people. Standardly. — Belief, get the keys. Quickly! Bystrenko it is necessary, bystrenko. Sights at visitors painfully bad. What they there now? About what speak? The belief is dug in the foolish handbag. — Well faster, V-belief! — Yes now, now! Where they, damned, have got lost? The for a long time already would get! The door in the dark beginning of a corridor has squeaked. Well — all! The figure has seemed. One. Goes, being loose, to them. — V-v-ver-r-ra! — Anton growls. The belief at last snatches out keys, potters with cheholchikom — in any way will not dump from a sheaf. Has dumped. Jumping fingers puts a key in the top lock. Does not get... That comes nearer. The boy young: short moustaches — a grey strip. A sight drunk, insolent. What it is necessary to it? One lock is already opened. The small bypasses Anton as if the column, suffices for a sleeve of jacket Natashku. — We will go to us! Anton for a second was struck dumb, was lost. The geek already drags frightened resting Natashku, lybitsja. Anton has thrown bags (bank with compote — a kr-r-cancer!), has choked with fury, fear for Natashku. Has seized suchonka by a collar and so that has jerked, that villages on a bum, has then hitched up, tychkom has started lengthways on a corridor. — Pshyol from here, a young reptile! Patsanchik has departed, having bent, trepyhaja hands as if wings, has begun to yell: — A seal! A seal! It has struck me! Into a corridor have jumped at once a little. Have rushed to them. The door nevertheless has swung open. Anton, having picked up bags, has dropped in the last. Has slammed. Has clicked. Has turned the second lock against the stop. Has thrown a chain. From that party deaf blow was distributed. 4The belief, not undressing, has fallen on a box for footwear, has leant the elbows on an empty telephone shelf, has seized for heart. Now — it will be broken off. It massed a breast, looked persistently at a dark growing pool under a bag — cherry compote terribly reminded blood — thought: «It is necessary to wash floors now...» Natashka — nearby on taburetochke, eyes — in half of face, a fright too much laps. Anton, having bent just as that girl at the battery, peered into a deep chink of an eye. Suddenly on nerves has struck a call. They have at once shuddered. Still — dr-r-rlin-n-n! And more — dr-r-rlin-n-n! And more, and more... The rigid finger there, in a corridor, has drowned the button of a call and only slightly it shook. The belief has stopped up ears, was bent to knees and has begun to sob. Zavshlipyvala and Natashka. Anton was stunned looked for about a minute at a white box under a ceiling, involuntarily screwing up the face each time at a new trill, has jumped up, has jerked — the call has come unstuck from a wall, hrjastnulsja about a floor. Behind a door — distinct voices: — Open, a goat! And well — open! All the same after all you will open — where you will get to? Give, quickly! The belief has lifted tear-stained, terrible during this moment ugliness, the dirty person, has squeezed out: — Go... go... Spoke — phone. All you pull, you pull... — Yes about what you? — Anton has angrily waved away. Though, that here to be angry? Phone now, really, would not prevent. In all corridor only they did not have phone — here that is insulting. Anton went few times on reception to the chief of a city telephone system — zazhravshejsja to a pig in a tie: asked, demanded, found out, why at all neighbours phones are, and at it — are not present. But to demand as it is necessary Anton was not able, not that character. Yes, at neighbours is, and at you is not present, and will be not earlier, than in two-three years — all skaz. Chyor-r-rt, can, neighbours will hear, will guess to call in militia? At a door have started to hollow feet. — Open, hey! SHCHas a door we will land! It is good, that Anton in this summer, during repair, has strengthened locks — has filled on a door metal sheet from old fotogljantsevatelja. Locks sit strongly. A chain — reliable. But here a door — malicious blow it is possible to punch through. After all wanted, wished to replace completely a door box — have regretted грóши, have postponed on then. The door cracked, shivered — minutes through five-ten will be scattered. What to do? — Natashka, quickly — a hammer and the big nails! Anton has dumped a raincoat, has rushed on a loggia. What happiness that has not had time to make a shelf — all pulled. Two boards — natural, thickness almost about a brick, one metre two, another are hardly shorter — my dears lay. Anton has involved them in a vestibule, has tried on — in akkurat. The long board has blocked through the centre a door on the height, the second has dexterously rested against a plinth opposite and — under a corner to the first. So, where nails?. At this time light has gone out. Reptiles! Have cut down stoppers in a corridor. — Belief, light a small lamp! The bright beam zapljasal on a ceiling, has fallen on a door. — Natasha — candles! — Anton has ordered. Itself has begun to drive nails, connecting boards in a strong emphasis. Natashka has put on a shelf a souvenir candelabrum with three colour stearin columns, has fussy set fire. Shades on corners have begun to rock. Natashka has again settled down on a stool. Anton has dragged from kitchen hleboreznuju a board, has fitted over an emphasis, has nailed to a vertical board and to a door through. Has thrust nails eight. Here so! Villages near to Belief on the polished shoe box. All three have tensely stared at locks. From that party smashed already seriously. Shoulders, soles. And it that? Hr-r-res-s-! Similar — a knife raspolosovali an upholstery. Hr-r-res-s-! Still... — Carries, that a corridor at us narrow: to run up and sadanut as follows cannot, — Anton has efficiently told, has falteringly sighed. The belief has looked at it the pity, any badgered sight. — What neighbours, and? Antosh, what neighbours, and? At rough patches of light of candles its person resembled a plaster mask. — It is necessary to knock on 92nd, — Anton has started. It — it is direct in zaljapannyh shoes — has run in a room, on a carpet, has nestled to narrow space between book shelves and a sideboard. Has knocked kostjashkami fingers — to a pain, to onemenija. Silently. Has driven in a fist. Has seized a vase crystal of a sideboard — a bottom, heavy, cast. In wall-paper there were dents. An echo! Lines! Really the house is not present? Yes — houses, houses: have hidden, have stood. Well only would call on a zero-two... Though, though... For a wall, in two-room 92nd, there lived Bulgarian Valentine with Russian wife and a five years' daughter. In total week as it has returned from hospital — laid month two, and even it is more. Yes, precisely, in August still somehow Saturday evening, it was light absolutely, Valentine in slippers behind mail has gone down. Between the third and the second floors on a platform stood — the person five. Drank "ink", smoked. Valentine has squeezed sidewise, has murmured with a smile: — What, children, more places are not present? Also has gone. And villages there and then. Have struck on a head a bottle. Beat-kicked its all minutes five but so razmolotili, that doctors have hardly stuck together. Now Valentine went having bent, sidewise — such impression: here now — time! — and rvanyot, will rush off away, covering a head hands... In other party, in 94th to be knocked too it is useless: the neighbour, the veteran decorated with an order without one foot — is treated in sanatorium, before departure asked mail to take away from a box. Deadlock. Anton, highlighting a small lamp, has passed on kitchen, has got ice beer from a dark refrigerator, has beaten off a stopper about a table edge, not coming off has decanted — already a teeth has broken. Has returned to a vestibule. The wife with the daughter all as has frozen did not reduce eyes from a shuddering door, with concentration listened to threats. — Open, your mother! Will be worse!. Anton mechanically took a card from newspapers, has illuminated — the notice with GTS: phone will be established in the fourth quarter of next year. Anton has crumpled a card, has flung away. Has rummaged around a niche behind a box with tools, has got tourist toporik, has uncovered. Has efficiently tried a finger an edge. Has put near to itself, has leant to a wall. The belief, strange apathetic, has grinned is insulting: where to you! Anton and itself at heart understood — strike the person an axe it cannot. Though toporik it was bought for self-defence — without it Anton did not go on fishing, did not leave in wood on mushrooms. toporik at a belt gave to confidence, calmnesses. When in wood there were people, muzhiks, Anton uncovered toporik, prepared for collision, but always potaenno hoped: fight will not reach. Will see, that it is armed — will lag behind. Main — posurovee the person to make and napruzhinitsja. And since recent time Anton took for a fashion to carry at itself a knife. Perochinnik, "belochku", for two twenty. The devil only knows: the person live pyrnut, of course, still to dare it is necessary, but to flash an edge as required — suddenly will help? Anton regularly shuffled a knife nazhdachkoj, started up zajchiki an edge, swaggered. The belief played a trick on it... Light has suddenly flashed. Anton and Natashka have jumped, have stared, shchurjas, on a plafond. Burns, shines! The belief with detachment wiped the person a handkerchief, smorkalas. Anton one exhalation has blown into candles. And simultaneously light has gone out. Both it was lighted. Also has gone out. Also has flashed. Anton, being angry, breaking matches, zateplil candles, has pressed on the switch. Has stood to steam of seconds in meditation. Also it has started to be picked — to unlock locks. — You that? — The Belief has screamed. — Anything! Go to a room with Natashkoj. I will talk to them, — is resolute, Anton has angrily shouted, taking in the right hand toporik. — Yes you that? — The Belief has jumped, has seized a hand. — them how much! It will talk! They will not make anything: will knock and will leave. Sit down! — Eh, a gun now, — Anton teeth has squeaked, has sat down again near to the wife, has put toporik nearby. Also has suddenly begun to squeal: — Hey, you there! And well cease! Stop now, swine! Behind a door has abated. Anton has uncertainly looked at Belief, it — on it. Natashka, having slightly opened a mouth, having extended a thin neck, listened attentively: really all? Anton was threw up to look in an eye: eh, its board has blocked! There has passed minute. Whence from apart, because of two-three walls mournful music — Beethoven reached. Or it in a head sounds? Fast hot breath Natashki. Beliefs it is completely not audible: has hidden, waits. Tr-r-rah-h-h! Booming metal blow. What is it? That? Ah, lines! At a refuse chute — Anton has recollected — the section from a radiator rolled. The end! Now a door — in shchepy. But the door while kept. But from above, from a lintel the plaster piece has broken. One more. And suddenly — polovinka a brick: shmats! In a hole has begun to sparkle koridornyj light. Voices, gogot drunk villains have rushed. Anton tensely thought, a forehead — folds. Has shaken a head. — Here that: it is necessary to call to the aid from a loggia. Passers-by or neighbours. Quickly! They, being restricted, were threw through kitchen on a loggia. («... The world and friendship between the people get stronger...», — doldonit radio over a refrigerator). Their windows leave in a court yard. In lateral sections-ledges of "a cranked shaft» the curtained off windows are shone. There — people. In a court yard — it is silent, it is deserted. Rjabit a rain. However — stop: someone has seemed. Far — not to disassemble. Two. Go on a path by the house. Have entered into a circle of lantern light: aha — the man and the woman, under one umbrella, with bags. It is necessary to shout. Anton has clicked latches, has pulled a window shutter — without results. What is? It has jerked still: the handle, a glass corrugated sphere, has come off — Anton has jumped aside an elbow and a shoulder about a wall. A damned paint! — On line it was necessary to us steklit a loggia? — It has roared. — vanish now because of it! — Anton! Anton! — only the Belief also has told-has moaned. — Anton, make something. The man with the woman left, now will disappear behind house ledges. Already there were some steps. Anton has bent down, has picked up a small bench, without scope has stuck with its end face into glass. It has burst with an explosive ring. Passers-by have stopped, peering from under an umbrella. Anton was put in a hole, pomajachil seconds five, has turned back to the. — Chyor-r-rt, well as I will shout? Belief, you shout. The belief has tarried, restive, has receded. Suddenly Natashka has jumped up to a window, has seized hands for a glass teeth and a terrible, artificial any voice tonenko has begun to yell: — Help-and-ite! Help-and-ite! Us ubiva-and-ajut! The man with the woman were picked up, have disappeared. In many windows light has gone out. — On... mo... gi... Those! — choking, has shouted last time Natashka in empty space of a court yard and, having covered zaalevshimi eye fingers, has buried in a breast to Anton. Trah! Trah! Trah! — the siege proceeded. 5As they dreamt of separate apartment! At first being restricted at the mother-in-law, then removing corners, then vegetating in a communal flat, — they dreamt of the isolated world. It seemed, anything else it is not necessary: give us our cube of space, give us our own small fortress where it is possible to hide, take cover from fussing shizofrenicheskogo the world though for an instant. With what gravity, with what expenses of forces, time and nerves they took care, arranged and decorated the apartment, especially, of course, Belief mytarilas: that behind wall-paper five hours per turns toils, any kashpo overseas in art salon guards. Have pasted over, have arranged, namyli, have rubbed and, really, the flat has turned out cosy. You will come from the world — dirty, sogbennyj, tousled: you will throw off footwear at porozhka, nastruish it is transparent a bath to edges, otmoknesh, on kuhonke you will accept a supper — not hurrying up, posmakivaja; in a room vozljazhesh on a sofa under a floor lamp with newspapers or the book, and that a TV set you will cut — that there old? Here has and more delayed for day the destruction or madness, it was counterbalanced. Yes unless it was possible to foresee, what the apartment-fortress becomes a trap? It there, behind windows, behind a porch — a gloom and horror. It there goes constant hunting. It there it is possible to become a victim during any instant and for no reason at all. My God, well why, what for you have resulted these creatures podpityh here? In what our fault, My God?. Anton, often breathing, pressed to itself Natashku, looked at fiery stings of candles. He felt a hot sight of Belief at the person, but could not turn in any way — strange slackness has filled all body … In the same way Anton could not look Belief in the face once in clear summer evening many years back. Then the first days of their passionate, sensual friendship lasted. Only in the tenth class, under the latest call have made out Anton and Belief the friend to the friend, prosverknula between them a spark. And before two years behind the next school desks postoronne sat. That day they have handed over history. Walked after examination in the stadium thrown, grown with a grass, and along the edges — trees. Spoke, laughed, but mainly — kissed nearly constantly: blood played, cheeks reddened, the world around existed somewhere there, in the distance, outside of atmosphere. And here Anton from emptiness of space someone it is rough oblapil, died in the person port. Anton has regained consciousness, has recoiled and has learnt — the Fighter, the guy from its house. Anton did not communicate with it almost: Fighters studied in the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE, lived in other world — in an antiworld. But "greetings" for "greetings" at meetings exchanged. The fighter, having shaken, has again clasped Anton in arms, skorjachilsja in bortsovskuju a rack, zamychal. Anton, being nervous, has started to tear off from itself the guy, but that as if has stuck. — The fighter, you that? Has not learnt, whether that? — Anton itself heard shameful begging notes in the voice. — the fighter, well the truth, what you? Lag behind. We in one house live — has not learnt? — K-more shortly, — probubnil the Fighter, starting to turn Anton on a grass, it is exact on a wrestling mat. — K-more shortly... Anton zyrknul on Belief. It stood aside, pressed cams to a chin, looked perplexed, scaredly. And Anton has dared: has urged on itself, has splashed in soul of a rage, sharp tychkom has beaten off the left hand of the Fighter, has deviated back and right vmazal to it on fizii. But — it is rather weak: not blow — a slap in the face. However the Fighter has come off, has fallen asleep, clapping eyelashes. Only the risen Anton wished to be removed and say goodbye to the neighbour in the house as because of trees two more were drew sharply. Anton, not having had time to be going to, has not prepared for repulse, and after the first tychka in the person has closed a head hands, having exposed elbows, was double up. Its instant have brought down on the earth, have begun to kick with appetite. Has rescued Anton Vera: it so it is shrill has begun to squeal, that pinalshchiki have not sustained, have put on time «fraera brushed», have picked up the Fighter and — were washed off. Anton in general has got off easily: a shiner, a lip it is broken yes sides hoot. But most of all the soul bled — with shame it would be desirable in a manhole a head. Moreover the belief sypanula a kind handful soltsy on a fresh wound — went, went, and has blurted out: «And you to fight, it appears, are not able...» After that evenings they did not meet half a year. 6SHmats! SHmats! Anton has guessed — punch a hole over a lintel. — If have not glazed a loggia, we now easy to the neighbour would get over, — he has exactly, passionlessly told. Loggia — one on two apartments. In the middle a thin partition in half of brick. — Wait, — Anton has quickened, has discharged of itself Natashku, — now all frame we will beat out... He has run for toporikom. Natashka has nestled to mother. The little girl as if has fallen asleep: did not open eyes, was on the last legs. Its person has been smeared in blood. Anton has seized toporik, has looked — above gaped square dyrishcha. The left top corner of a door box shook. And here upon Anton has dawned — a bathroom! — Belief, Natashka, here! It has opened a bathroom, has let in the wife with a daughter, has darted a glance at last back — the door jamb cracked, jumped out from a wall plane. Anton was closed on a latch, has put a small lamp to Belief. Has put toporik in a bowl, both hands has broken a mirror together with a shelf — banks, tubes, bottles fell down. Has thrown all in a bath. Has intercepted more conveniently toporik, has gasped an edge on a wall … Still when they only were installed, Anton, finishing a bathroom, has found out: from the neighbour-invalid in this place them separates tonjusenkaja stenochka from a broken brick and a loose solution. Capitally to fix a bowl, it was necessary even to sew a wooden board on all bottom part of a partition. From the first blow the window with vedyornoe a bottom has become. The mirror of the neighbour has rung out and was scattered. Anton with mad force rubanul cross-wise some times, has ordered: — Natashka, polezaj! It has placed a daughter, has pushed her feet forward, has pushed in a hole. Has quickly dragged up a washing machine "Baby". — Belief! The wife has stepped into a toilet bowl, from it — on "Baby", wished to step over a bowl, but the narrow skirt held. — Belief! — Anton has shouted in furiousness. — yes lift up you it, devil take it! And itself has seized by a hem, has hitched up a skirt. The belief, sparkling underwear, persisted in, squeezed into a breach. «My God, — has flashed at Anton in a head, — same a comedy film! Same circus!» And he has felt on tear eyes. Before to disappear most, Anton, having sighed from natugi, has pulled down from a wall an iron case with stocks of soap, a tooth-paste, a powder washing — has pressed down it a door. Has closely moved up also a washing machine. Has fitted under the handle a mop — everything, you look, will detain for a minute-other. In apartment of the neighbour they have appeared for the first time. Light has flashed. Edge of an eye Anton has noticed — siro, is poor: a table, chairs, a dermatin sofa. But the main thing — phone. Here it smart guy, bright red, costs on a bedside table at a window — waits. Anton has seized a tube... In phone — a black failure of silence. Swine! They, certainly, in a corridor have torn off wires... All! Anton zagnanno has looked round: can, the gun where hangs? It would not be desirable to believe, that chances does not remain. — Daddies, and that if so: when all of them here will get — in a corridor after all will be nobody? We at doors will jump out and we will escape, and? And that, idea! Good fellow Natashka! If only on street to jump out: nevertheless – city centre. And time still — Anton has looked at hours: My God, all half an hour has passed! Half More the tenth. Anton has rushed in a lobby. At the neighbour too — two locks. So, top — normal: from within opens. And bottom? Bottom... Anton has stooped at doors, has nestled to a warm tree a forehead, has closed eyes. — Well, Anton? What?! Anton was wearily developed, has embraced the wife and the daughter, has strong pressed to itself. Has inhaled disturbing native aroma of their hair. Also has sobbed. In a bathroom shouts, a laughter, cheerful mocking matjugi were distributed... Lju-ju-judi-i-i-i-i!. 1990 |
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M: the Voice, 1993 |
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© Rosedkin Sergey Nikolaevich, 2001 |
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E-mail: emp-reports@fustercluck.com |
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