By the time I got off the train, it was already dark. It was raining endlessly. That is why it seemed that autumn had already come, although autumn was still far away. Or maybe I wanted autumn to come soon, and then I could forget about the evening train, this platform and the road through the forest. Usually everything happens automatically. You get into the first subway car, because it is closer to the exit, you take a ticket at the last box office to save twenty steps to the train, you hurry to the third car from the end, because it stops at the stairs from which the asphalt path begins. You leave the path at the double pine, because if you go straight through the birch grove, you will gain another hundred and twenty steps — everything has been measured in a month. The length of the road depends on how heavy your bag is today.
It was raining, and when the train left and it became quiet, I heard the drops knocking on the leaves. It was empty, as if the train had taken away the last people and I was left here completely alone. I went down the stairs to the asphalt path and habitually bypassed the puddle. I heard my steps and thought those steps were older than me. I must have been tired and my life wasn’t going the way I wanted it to.
I was returning so late because I stopped by Valya’s aunt for a blue lamp for Koska, only in the fourth pharmacy did I find rosehip syrup, I had to buy three bottles of lemonade for Raisa Pavlovna, not to mention sausage, cheese and all sorts of products — there two hundred grams, there are three hundred, — so a bag of ten kilograms has accumulated, and I want to put it under a pine tree and forget it.
I left the asphalt path and went straight along the path through the birch grove. The path was slippery, you had to guess it in the dark so as not to trip over the root.
I agree to run after work shopping and then shake for almost an hour in the train, if it made sense, but there was no point, just as there was no point in much of what I did. I sometimes thought about how relative time is. We’ve been married for a year and a half. And Koska is already seven months old, he is thinking something. And these one and a half years, on the one hand, began only yesterday, and I remember everything that happened then, and on the other hand, these are the longest one and a half years in my life. One life was before, the second I lived now. And it ends, because, obviously, a person dies more than once, and in order to live on and remain a person, one must not pull, not drag, but cut off once and for all. And start over.
I slipped all the same, almost fell and barely saved the blue light lamp. The right shoe got wet; I was going to run into the workshop, but, of course, there was not enough time. I entered the village, the lanterns were burning here, and it was possible to go faster. At the picket fence a white mongrel rushed about and choked with hatred for me. It is at least some kind of feeling. There is nothing worse when feelings disappear and you just stop being noticed. No, everything is within the normal range, visibility is preserved, you are fed, buttons are sewn on for you and they even ask if you forgot to go into the workshop and fix your right shoe. So not for long and catch a cold. The further course of thought is quite elementary. If I catch a cold, there will be no one to carry bags from Moscow.
Kozarin’s dacha is second from the left, and behind the lilac bushes one can see the light on the terrace. Raisa Pavlovna sits there and works on a barn book in which all her expenses and incomes are recorded. I have never seen a person in my life who takes pennies so seriously. And at first I was amazed that Valentina, so carefree and cheerful before, found a common language with her. Maybe soon he will also start a barn book and line it by day and hour?
We rented this dacha because Valina’s aunt found it. The dacha was old, creaky and gray-haired on the outside. Professor Kozarin used to live there, but he died three years ago, and the dacha went to his niece Raisa, because the professor had no other relatives. All things once belonged to the professor, Raisa threw them into the closet, as if she wanted to erase him not only from life, but from her memory too. I don’t know if she ever had a husband, but there were no children for sure. She didn’t like Koska, he annoyed her, and if it weren’t for this friendship with Valentina, Koska and I would have been unhappy. The dacha was small: two rooms and a terrace. Apart from the kitchen and closet. Raisa would have been glad to hand over everything, but she had to keep the room for herself — she planted a garden, and she had to look after it. We, as residents, did not suit Raisa very much, but she had no choice — the dacha is far from the station and from Moscow, there are no shops or other civilization nearby, and Raisa broke the price for her, like for a palace in Nice, and as a result, as picky bride, left with nothing. We had to agree.
I leaned over the gate, threw back the latch and walked along the slippery path to the house, bending down so as not to touch the lilac bushes and not get a cold shower by the collar. Raisa was sitting at the table, though not with a barn book, but with a pharmaceutical reference book, her favorite reading. In response to my “hello,” she only said:
— Did you go out again?
I wanted to throw three bottles of lemonade at her like grenades, but I put the bottles in a row in front of her, and she said absently:
— Oh, yes, thank you.
So the Queen of England must have said to the footman who brought the ice cream. Then Valentina came in and pretended to be happy about my arrival:
— And I was already worried.
She probably could have found some other greeting, and everything would have ended in peace, but I knew that she was not worried, but blissfully knitted or dozed in a warm room while I dragged myself here, and thought about what would end summer and her imprisonment in the country house, and she will finally meet her prince. Or maybe she didn’t even think about it. She lives in a calm, vegetative state and emerges from it only under the influence of hostility towards me.
— I was walking. I was curious to see her reaction. — We had a drink with Semyonov, then we watched hockey.
Valentina smiled skeptically and showered me with a wave of condescending contempt. Her eyes were not made up, and therefore the look remained cold. And I stood and learned to hate those thin fingers lying indifferently on the table, and a lock of hair over a small ear. This is a difficult school — it is much easier to hate yourself.
«You’re tired, dear,» Valentine said. — Standing in line?
— Yes, I say that I drank with Semenov!
How I wanted to piss her off, to lose control, to break out of her real, angry and indifferent insides!
“Amazing,” Raisa rasped, “a young man from a good family…
“What do you care about my family!”
And I immediately imagined how they giggle with Valentina when my wife tells her how my father tried to forbid me to marry Valentina. He said then: “You haven’t earned a penny in your life and now you want me to feed both you and your wife?” Then, looking into the past, I realized that Valentina was counting on our apartment, on her father’s salary and a prosperous life. After all, when her father said all this, she quickly backed down. She skillfully disguised her thoughts with anxiety about my institute: “You need to study, your ideas to leave the institute, leave the second year, work and rent a room will not stand the test. It will be difficult for us.» She played her part perfectly. She had nothing to lose, except for a bed in a hostel. With her external data, she could choose a better apartment than ours. And there were those who wanted to, I know.
For the first three or four months it seemed that the walls between us did not exist. Valentina worked, I worked, we found a room, and I went to the evening without a scratch. But then Koska loomed in the future, and when Valentina left work and Koska materialized, it really became not easy. She too. She still somehow counted on my reconciliation with my father, for my good, as she explained, so as not to pay for the room and not to expect that the hostess would get tired of the night scenes that Koska could roll up, and she would ask us to leave the premises. But I was stubborn. I then began to guess about her game, or rather, her loss, but I kept hoping for something.
“I don’t care about your family,” Raisa pursed her lips. “I mean that family.
In other words, she cares about my—this—family. A good standard union of two hyenas against one hare.
How is Koska? — I asked not to start.
“Sleeping,” said Valentina, and pursed her lips, just like Raisa. Valentina is easily influenced.
Raisa got up, collected the bottles and, pressing them to her stomach with a book, crawled towards her. In fact, she rented the terrace to us and received money for it, but she preferred to spend time on it.
I looked into Koska’s room. The son was sleeping, and I adjusted the blanket on him. Koska is unlike anyone, and therefore those who want to please me assure that he is my copy, and Valentina’s aunts and friends repeat in every way: “Valya, what a resemblance! Your nose, your mouth! Your ears!»
It is said that it is bad for a child to grow up without a father. It would be nice if Valentina agreed, when we get divorced, to leave Koska with me. I knew that the mother would agree to have me back with her son. She loves him. She is one of those who consider Koska my copy. Yes, and Valentina does not need it — a sad evidence of a life miscalculation. When she finally finds her happiness, she will have other children. I don’t need anything else. I caught myself thinking about divorce as something decided.
— Are your shoes wet? Valentina asked mockingly, coming in after me. “You didn’t have time to see the shoemaker, did you?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, so as not to get involved in the conversation. I was all heated inside, my nerves were melting. Now she will find a way to more painfully reproach me for poverty.
She found.
“You know, Kolya,” she said hypocritically. “Perhaps I can do without the cape. My old one is still fine. And you need boots.
I caught her eye. The eyes were cold, mocking. The words rushed down my throat and stuck in a ball. I coughed and rushed to the door. Valentina did not run after me, and I clearly imagined how she was standing, touching her sharp chin with her finger, and smiling enigmatically. The blow was delivered below the belt, an illegal blow.
It was already eleven o’clock, and although the next day was scheduled for Saturday, when you can soak up, I decided to go to bed early. Tired. I can lie down on the terrace, as always, anyway, Valentina is in the room with Koska, in case he needs to be swaddled when he wakes up. But I had to go to the room for linen and a pillow. And I didn’t want to do that. Could break. So I got out The Corrosion of Metals—a fascinating read in this mood—and set to work on the book. Valentina soon peered through the crack and asked in a whisper (Koska was fiddling about in her sleep) whether I would drink tea. I hissed at her and she hid. I understood: Valentina was up to something, otherwise she would have ended up on the terrace a long time ago and would have purred a couple of times to bring me to a peaceful state. For now, until autumn, she needs me. Carrying bags and doing chores.
Soon twelve. Raisa’s bed creaked in the back room, the hostess was getting into bed, she had to get up early to feed the chickens. My eyes were drooping. I didn’t remember a single line from Corrosion. I have corrosion in my soul, I understood that. And I also understood that at twenty-one you can start life again. Valentina didn’t go to bed either. She planned new humiliations for me, waited for me to break down and come for a pillow. No, you can’t wait. I looked at my palm — it was covered in blood. So, he killed a mosquito and did not notice it himself. The rain pounded on the roof, echoed by the steady sound of a trickle of water pouring from the gutter into a barrel by the terrace. I didn’t even have anything to cover myself with — my jacket, not yet dry, hung somewhere in the kitchen over the stove. Take, perhaps, a tablecloth from the table? Why not? May I please Raisa in the morning when she pokes her head out on the terrace and sees me using a market piece of art with four grinning tiger faces at the corners. I put an empty plate and other utensils on the floor and just grabbed the corner of the tablecloth when Valentina came to the door — I can hear her every step, especially at night. I managed to open the book.
«Kolya,» she said quietly, «are you busy?»
«I’m working,» I snapped. — Sleep.
I must have dozed off at the table afterwards, because I woke up suddenly because the rain had stopped. And it was very quiet, only Valentina’s steps rustled outside the door. «How she hates me!» I thought almost calmly. A large moth beat against the glass of the veranda. I silently stepped towards the sofa and, without extinguishing the light, immediately fell asleep.
I woke up quite early, although Raisa was already talking with her precious chickens right under the veranda. It was a sunny and windy morning, pine trunks creaked, and wasps buzzed in the corner of the veranda. I did not immediately understand why I sleep like this, as if at the station. For the first few seconds I was in a great mood, but then the thoughts and words of last night began to return in quanta, and I kicked my legs off the couch — I did not want anyone to see me. The room was quiet, I looked in. The family was asleep. Only Koska did it serenely, and Valentina, huddling into a ball and hiding her head under the covers, avoided my eyes even in her sleep.
I took a towel and a toothbrush and went down to the garden, to the washbasin, which hung on a pine trunk. While I was washing, Raisa inaudibly crept up from behind and whispered:
— Sleep sweetly, doves, you will be left without milk.
She doesn’t say hello, and I won’t. But there was common sense in her snide phrase. Grandmother Ksenia lived two houses away, from whom we took milk. Without saying a word, I picked up a can from the terrace and went to the gate. I walked and wondered to myself: I was calm. And he could not immediately understand the reasons for his calmness. And only when I was coming back, I realized what was the matter: it turns out that while I was sleeping, I made a decision. It was as if he solved a problem in a dream that he could not solve for several days in a row. Today I will talk to Valentina. And I’ll tell her everything. So you can postpone the conversation for years. There are families in which someone also puts off such a conversation. He puts off a year, two, five, and then it’s too late.
Valentina has already jumped up. She rang the dishes in the kitchen and, hearing me climb the stairs to the veranda, she shouted from there:
— Well done for guessing about milk!
It was easy to decipher these words. So, Raisa said that without her reminder, I would have left the child without milk.
At first I wanted to talk about divorce right at breakfast and even came up with the first words, but I was afraid that Valentina would accept my words with complete indifference — she knows how — and would only say: «Please.» I wanted her to feel what I feel, at least five percent of it. And I tried to keep myself normal at breakfast, and when Valentina told me how Koska had twisted the baby doll’s head yesterday, I obediently smiled.
— Are you full? Valentina asked as she finished her coffee.
“Of course,” I replied, and reached for Corrosion of Metals. She hinted at the fact that I eat more than I earn. Besides, at any moment she could ask if I had a good night. «Corrosion of Metals» was necessary to me as a screen. I had to figure out when to start the conversation.
“Kol,” Valentine said, “I have serious business with you. Just do not be offended.
My heart broke and sank. I had no idea that Valentina would get ahead of me. Has she found herself a new prince? Maybe with the help of Raisa Pavlovna, an obliging older friend? Why didn’t I speak before breakfast!
“Yes,” I said indifferently. It seemed to me that my hair was moving — so thoughts rushed through my head.
“I promised Raisa Pavlovna,” said Valentina, “to do one thing. We owe her a lot… well, you know…
I didn’t understand anything. I cringed like a dog before a blow, but what does Raisa have to do with it?
“You know it’s hard for her to bend down, and she wants to rent out the closet. If you break a window in it, it will become a good room.
“Well, let him give up,” I answered automatically. It was some kind of another conspiracy, but until I figure it out, it’s best not to resist. — She’ll rent out the attic soon. And an empty doghouse.
— Raisa asked me to take out the old professorial magazines and papers from the closet, then there were two chests and some other junk. She showed me.
I could say that I should. I could even say that I have the right to rest at least a day a week. But I was confused. After all, I was preparing for another conversation.
“As you wish,” I said.
— Well, that’s great.
The closet smelled of cat droppings. A ray of sunlight broke through a small window under the ceiling, and dust particles floated importantly in it. Papers were bound in piles, magazines piled up in corners and on drawers.
Raisa appeared from behind and said, although no one asked her:
— I gave everything of value to the institute. Came from the institute. I gave it away for free.
She liked the last word, and she repeated:
— Free of charge.
“Some of the books in the second-hand bookstore would pay you well,” I said.
She did not catch the irony and immediately agreed, as if she herself regretted it:
There were a lot of books here, and some of them were old and valuable. The professor had an amazing library.
Valentina put on a plastic apron and a scarf. She entered the closet first, and a beam of light set fire to her hair. So why didn’t we succeed? Why should anyone else admire her hair?
“Put paper and magazines near the kitchen,” Raisa reminded them.
Valentina didn’t answer. Apparently, she was informed about this in advance.
— I have already agreed with the junk dealer. He will come for waste paper on a truck,” Raisa said.
They had no doubt that I would spend Saturday on menial labor. My consent was an empty formality.
Valentina leaned over and handed me the first pack of magazines. I took them to the garden and laid them on the ground. The journals were German, I think the «Biophysical Collection» ten years ago. I thought how quickly a person disappears from life. How quickly everything is forgotten. These magazines stood on the shelves next to the books, and a man named Kozarin, whom I had never even seen in a photograph in my life, approached these shelves, and the contents of these magazines were imprinted in his brain. I opened one of the magazines at random and saw that there were exclamation points in the margins and some lines were underlined. There was a strong feedback between the life of Kozarin and the life of these articles. And probably, these magazines and even large piles of paper, written by Kozarin himself, lost access to people as soon as the professor himself died. Right now, a junk dealer will come and take them away, so that later they will grind them up and print new magazines on clean paper, each of which will stick to some person, grow together with him, and, most likely, die with him. Three years ago, at this dacha, there was a closed world built by Kozarin over many years. Now Valentina and I were cleaning up the remains of it, so that the new, Raisin, faceless and small world would completely triumph here. And I thought that when I was in Leninka, I would definitely look into the catalog: what did Kozarin himself write, what did Kozarin himself come up with, is there a thread that we break here and which must necessarily stretch to other places and at other times? ..
“Kolya,” Valentina called and brought me back to earth, where there would probably be no trace of me left. — Where have you been?
Raisa was busy in the kitchen, I think, to see if I would steal a kilogram or two of waste paper on the way. I asked her as I passed:
— And who was Kozarin by profession?
«Professor,» she answered innocently.
“Professors are different. Chemists, physicists, historians.
“Well, then, a physicist,” said Raisa, and I did not believe her. It’s just that the word «physicist» sounded more respectful to her.
Valentina had already pulled several packs out of the closet, and all I had to do was carry them through the kitchen, and I glanced at Raisa out of the corner of my eye, and it seemed to me that she was moving her lips, counting the number of packs, so that later she would enter a number that no one needed in the barn book.
So we worked for about an hour. Once I had to break away and run to Koska, but in general he behaved very nobly that morning, as if he foresaw the onset of a decisive moment and tried to be on top.
Valentina swept up the dust, and we set to work on the chests. Of course, Raisa had already gone through them with a frequent comb, and then dumped in disorder everything that was of no commercial or economic interest to her. The chests were packed side by side with old, holey shoes, broken cups, rags, books without beginning or end, but most importantly, a mass of broken wires, wire, nuts, screws, boxes with diodes, fragments of printed circuits, and, quite strangely, two carefully made model of the human brain, scribbled and even pierced here and there with pins.
“The professor had a hobby,” I said. — What, is unknown.
Raisa, who heard everything, immediately responded from the kitchen:
“You have no idea how I found everything. The dacha was completely unsuitable for habitation. Banks, bottles and wires. There were also many whole instruments, but these, from the institute, were taken away with them. Whole car.
Then you were afraid, you were not sure of your rights. Still, a whole cottage in the inheritance. Now I wouldn’t give it up so easily. But I did not express my opinion aloud.
We hauled the junk outside until the chests were light enough, then dragged them through the kitchen. Outside, a mountain of waste paper was already rising, and it looked pathetic — it didn’t feel like that in the closet. Then I dragged the last bags and boxes out of the closet, Valentina took a wet rag to wipe off the dust, and I lingered in the garden, because I suddenly wanted to reflect on the frailty of human existence. But nothing came of it, I can’t think on demand. Instead, I remembered that the decisive moment was coming, and I almost forgot about it, because I did not want to remember it, and during this hour or two, while we were cleaning the Augean closet, Valentina managed not to remind me once of the sad reality .
I pulled out a thick hoop with protrusions like the teeth of a crown from a pile of rubbish, and I thought that if I had found such a thing earlier, I would definitely have come up with something funny and would have crowned Valentine like Queen Tamara. Now she does not understand such jokes. Well, you can be crowned yourself — the king of fools and a simpleton!
I returned to the terrace, where I would have to start the conversation. And probably in the same words as Valya recently began: “I have a serious business with you.” I hate this kind of talk. They don’t lead to good things. But I didn’t expect good things. Valentina is coming in.
I was afraid that she would come in, and immediately a saving thought appeared — I had to wash myself. I threw the hoop on the sofa and rinsed for a long time under a thin stream from a green washbasin on a pine tree. Then I saw that Valentina was hurrying to the washbasin with a towel in her hand, and I returned to the terrace. Well, I told myself, it’s time. It all happened precisely because you were a rag for too long. Enough.
I heard the stairs creak under Valentina’s feet. I had nowhere to put my hands. I took the hoop. Valentina came closer and I took a step back.
— What do you have? she asked.
“What if Raisa hears? I thought. “You can’t talk in front of Rais.” It was a wonderful pretext to delay the conversation, but, as luck would have it, Raisa flashed in front of the terrace and headed for the gate. She must have been in a hurry to hurry the junk dealer. There was nowhere to retreat.
— What is it? Valentina repeated.
“The crown of Queen Tamara,” I said. Or King Solomon. Doesn’t matter.
And I put the hoop on myself, and my tongue had already begun to pronounce the words prepared and carefully rehearsed for the morning:
“Valya, I have a serious matter for you…
And at that moment I fell silent. I didn’t hear what Valentina said because I was gone. It was a strange instantaneous feeling of disappearance. I still had sensations, there were images and thoughts in me, but all this had absolutely nothing to do with me. It is impossible to describe, and I swear that no one has experienced anything like this. With the possible exception of Kozarin.
I analyzed these unusual sensations of mine later. There are billions of nerve cells in the human brain, each with its own affairs and tasks. And there are probably some of them who do nothing, but wait for their moment, in which the brain has to deal with sensations so new that ordinary working cells cannot cope with it. And they, like detectives, rush to the rescue, grabbing and discarding various possibilities, sorting through options until they find the only right way out that can be communicated to the rest of the cells. If not, then why, after the first moments of panic, did my brain know what had happened to me?
I saw, learned, heard — call it what you want — what was going on in Valentina’s head. If you think that I have read her mind, you will be wrong. I didn’t read minds. It’s just that I ended up inside Valya, and what takes up a lot of lines in the description became my property instantly…
There was fear, because Nikolai, who had been nervous since the evening, couldn’t find a place for himself, finally decided on something terrible that you couldn’t fix later. And his words about a serious conversation, and the way his hands tremble when he puts this hoop on himself … He will say, he must definitely say that it is impossible to live like this anymore, that he will leave. And he, of course, is right in his own way, because from the very beginning it was clear that he would be unhappy. He’s like a boy, he can not look into the future. And then he could not, or rather, did not want to. When that conversation with my father happened and it became clear that my parents did not approve, then it was necessary to leave him, leave, enlist somewhere in a construction site. And there would be no difficulties, such terrible difficulties for Kolya. As soon as he pulled all these months! And after all, he was still studying — he lost weight and thrashed. How dare she hang such a burden on the neck of her beloved — herself and Koska. Oh, if he had waited a little longer, because in the fall Koska would have been placed in a nursery for a five-day period and she would have gone to work. But it’s late. Because Colin’s love has died, and it hasn’t died now, but in spring or winter. Here are hands, ordinary hands, not even very strong ones, but you can look at them for hours, know every wrinkle in the palm of your hand and dream of bending down to them and resting your head. And it is impossible, because she is so guilty before him: there was not enough strength to refuse happiness. And the whole life then consisted of small and big miracles. It was a miracle to go to the movies with him and know that at the buffet he would buy Zabava toffees and give her a little, and each time his hand would linger in her palm. It was a miracle to run to the next room of the hostel and beg for a black dress from Sveta for great services in the future, because Kolya bought tickets for a French singer, and then sit in line at the hairdresser and look at the clock, and there is just nothing left and you can be late, although Kolya won’t say anything. And there was the main miracle, which you can’t even tell anyone in the hostel about, otherwise it will melt. Well, why didn’t she manage to save Kolya from herself in time? He’s proud, he wouldn’t go back on his word. And she is a woman. And a woman is always older than a man, if both the man and the woman are not twenty years old. His old people didn’t like her. If she had been different — a student, a Muscovite, maybe everything would have been different. He needs another. How foolish to remember now that she tried to please her father and washed the windows when she was not asked to do so, and everything was out of place and only irritated! And she saw that she was annoying, but she could not help herself … And then Kolya lost everything. Dried up like a dry stream. The debt remains. Kolya is conscientious. He should have left long ago. He will help Koska, he is kind. How tired she was this summer! Not only physically, it’s not the main thing. I’m tired of always keeping myself in control, not breaking loose, not asking for love that they can’t give. How offended he was yesterday when she said that he had to buy shoes, but the raincoat could wait! I shouldn’t have said that, but it came out. She really doesn’t need a raincoat when she has an old one. Kolya should be well, nicely dressed. After all, he visits friends, visits his parents. And no one should know that it is difficult for him with money, that the dacha gobbled up everything for two months in advance. It’s good that I managed to persuade my aunt so that Kolya wouldn’t find out how much she really costs. And she scraped together the hundred missing dollars. Kolya had not yet noticed that she had sold boots and a green jacket. This is nonsense. She has no one to show off. It is also always very scary that Kolya might think that she reproaches him for small earnings. He might think so out of pride. So what if he doesn’t have a specialty yet? After all, soon she will go to work, and there he will graduate from the institute, it’s all such trifles, although it’s too late to think about it. He works and works so hard. After all, she knows that he does not drink with anyone and has lost almost all his friends. And yesterday I sat studying until midnight. And she had such a toothache, even die, and aspirin on the terrace. She poked her head in there, but she was afraid to interfere. He was irritated, tired, it is better to be patient. Probably, she would not have thought so before — what nonsense: come in and take a pill, but for a long time it seems to be hanging over an abyss, and her hands are weakening, and below the river. Her tooth hurt, she walked around the room on tiptoe, looked at Kostya, at little Kolya, and she kept wanting Kolya to come in and put his hands on her shoulders. Even though she knew she wouldn’t. She tried to knit. She hated this knitting, but she had to earn money somehow, help Kolya. Raisa arranged a dress for her friend. Raisa is so mercenary that for sure, from twenty dollars for knitting, she appropriated a five for herself for her work. But with her it’s easy. She is a bad person, but she does not pretend to be good. You can go straight with her. When she asked to take apart the closet, she had to say directly that it was not a gift. We agreed that it would be possible to use strawberries and other berries from her garden for free. For Kostya, of course. And it was very awkward to go to Kolya. She got up in the morning, kissed him on the cheek, and he frowned in his sleep. He is already all set against her, his whole body is indignant. And she also tried to think less about this, because until the last moment, until Kolya said about a serious conversation, she hoped to hold out until the fall, as if it were a saving e.u.zh, a coast to which she had to swim. But she knew that she was deceiving herself. No matter how you fold the shards, the cup will not work. And when he worked in the closet, it seemed to her that his dislike for her had passed for a while. And she even wanted to sing. And she fooled herself again. Maybe take Kostya and leave with him, and then send a letter: “I will always love you, dear, but I don’t want to be a burden.” After all, she won’t disappear. And now it’s too late. He will kick her out. And he will be right. My poor Kolya, my stubborn boy.
I later realized that it all lasted a moment, well, two or three seconds at the most, because Valya noticed that I was staggering, that I passed out, and rushed towards me, and I fell, and the hoop rolled onto the sofa.
I came to my senses immediately, and Valentina’s eyes were close, she was so frightened that she could not say anything out loud. Her lips were trembling. It’s a literary expression, and I’ve never seen people actually tremble their lips before. My head was spinning, but I still sat down on the floor, then stood up, leaning on her arm. She has a thin and strong hand. And I held her fingers and thought that her fingers were stiff from constant washing.
“Nothing special,” I said. — Has already passed. Honestly.
— You’re overtired, sit down, please.
From fear for me, she lost the ability to control herself, she was ready to burst into tears and cuddle up to me. And although I no longer knew her thoughts and I will never put on this hoop again in my life (tomorrow I will take him to the institute), I continue to read them. And I was afraid that she would cry, that she would break down like that, right away, but before that we must not allow it — for the next fifty years I have a clear task: not once to allow this stupid child to cry. Let others roar. And then a harmful thought came to my mind, this happens to me if I feel good and have a great mood. I said without letting go of her fingers:
So I’m saying that I have a serious conversation with you.
The fingers, which gently touched my palm with hard pads, immediately weakened, became lifeless.
“Yes,” she said in a childlike voice.
— Is your aunt coming on Thursday?
I looked at Valentina as if I had just met her yesterday. She didn’t dare to raise her eyes.
— I promised.
Let’s talk her into staying the night. And I’ll take tickets to the concert. Or to the movies. We have not been anywhere with you for a thousand years.
“Better at the movies,” she said before she had time to process what I had said.
And then she suddenly rushed to me, desperately grabbed the sleeves of her coat, pressed her nose to my chest, as if she wanted to hide in me, and roared in three streams.
I stroked her shoulders, her hair and muttered rather incoherently:
— Well, what are you, stop it … Now Raisa will come … No need …