Читать книгу Mother of Jesus - Ilia Grinberg - Страница 4

At the very edge of the olive grove, two men took rest. The one, whose name was Bilam, was young, no older than thirty, tall and strong in the shoulders. He tied a donkey to a tree, and, having untied the bag, wanted to throw it on the ground.

“Hey, what are you doing! Be careful,” the partner shouted at him. He was about fifty, but he looked seventy. It was evident that life patted him thoroughly.

“That's okay, Beor, what are you? I can't joke anymore.”

“Do you want to leave us without drinks? Get the jugs, put them on the ground and you can start joking,” the older one muttered grumpily. It was evident that, despite the short stature, thinness and general nondescript appearance, he was the leader in this small company.

Bilam, glancing at the elder, gently lowered a bag of provisions to the ground and unpacked it. Straightening, he looked around. Place for a halt was just great. Not far from the city, but hidden from it by a hill. Large garden of olive trees, which gave saving shadow. And a lot of branches lying on the ground, remaining from the work carried out in the fall.

“Again I have to do everything” he thought evilly, looking at his partner, who was already snoring in the shade of the tree. Bilam was constantly enraged that all the black and hard work was done to him, but he couldn’t say anything against it. He could carry a stolen ram on his back all day long, could knock a young bull with one blow on his forehead, could catch a chicken with one throw and unscrew her neck before it sighs. But to organize the theft of this sheep or to find a place where no one would notice the loss of the bull, with this he had problems. That is why he, while old and experienced Beor took him as his assistant, very rarely was full, but often a bit.

When the fire had given enough coal, Bilam buried his last catch in it, and sat down next to watch the dinner being prepared, poking the roast poultry with a branch. Having finally made sure that the food was ready, he broke off a thick leg from the carcass and immediately heard the grumbling of the old man: "What, are you eating again without me, plague?" "Here is an old devil, and how does he always feel that dinner is ready?" the unsuccessful thief of a chicken leg was surprised once again. “I’ll have to gnaw wings and neck. Well, nothing, I still have bread, and I bought some vegetables on the market.” Beor often surprised a young partner with his habits. So, when they had money, he could afford the luxury of buying vegetables or fruits on the market, instead of stealing them, which was not difficult for the couple.

After early yesterday morning, they lurched near a village potter, who had brought jugs made by him to the market early in the morning, they became owners of a donkey and a few coins. Apparently, the potter did not expect to sell a sufficient number of his products in order to buy something necessary for the house, so he took the money with him just in case. This time, Beor surprised Bilam again. He forbade to beat, much less kill the peasant. Moreover, he left both baskets with jugs whole. They left the baskets on the edge of the road, and the potter was taken into the shadow of a huge boulder and tied there. "Well, here. The people will wake up, someone will see the jugs, will guess that something happened to the owner. He will start calling him, he will respond. So he will not die," muttered contentedly, as if talking to himself, the old man. "Does it matter to you whether he will be alive or not?" asked Bilam. "Now we just walk away, he will start yelling." “Hey, man, don't scream ahead of time. We’ll be close enough. We’ll hear, come back and here he is,” Beor pointed a finger at his partner, “he will strangle you. Do you understand?” The bound captive, staring in dismay, nodded. “And you say he will start shouting. He will be silent,” the old thief cackled with his nasty laughter.

Turning off the road and passing a few hours through a peopleless area, they came out to a small village. The young man remained guarding the stolen donkey, hiding in the wadi. And the older bought bread, vegetables and wine from a woman at the house, then filled a jug of water at a village source, returned to the place where his partner was hiding. Now they were ready for a long passage from the crime place. “We go to Zipory,” said Beor. “I know a good road, not very long and no have anyone. And there is a place for rest ... lick your finger. Olive grove, shady place... In general, beauty.”

... Having satiated themselves, the robbers heartily lavished on the jug of wine.

“I'll go and drain it,” the drunk old man announced to the younger one. “A, maybe I will do something more serious, and move on further. There is enough money for a couple of weeks, we will stay at some widow, and then we'll see.”

Beor did not have time to hide behind the stones, and Bilam was already asleep, leaning back against a tree. He dreamed again of that damned dream that had tormented him since he remembered himself. He saw himself again as a little boy on a bright sunny day. Here he is crying and trying to escape from the hands of a bearded scary man. And from dusk on the contrary, from the second half of his dream, a woman's hand is reaching for him. He knows that this is the hand of the mother. He knows that she calls him, and he tries his best to hear her voice, but he does not succeed. He is so important, he so wants, finally, to hear his name, to know his name. But nothing works. Again, nothing happens. Only his own screams and the ugly, bleating bearded laughter are heard. Then there was a whistle, and it was strange, because in his usual nightmare it was not.

Breaking out of sleep, Bilam realized that he heard their "secret" whistle with Beor. The whistle, that they warned of danger or called each other. Now the senior companion called him to him. Bilam quickly jumped up, for a couple of minutes he put his belongings in a bag and, putting him on a donkey, hurried to the call of his partner. In order not to cling to the branches of trees, he went out of the garden, and made a small hook behind a stone wall, focusing on the call. Suddenly, turning to one of the boulders, showing the edge of someone's possessions, he saw a very young girl lying motionless on the slope of a small hill.

She was lying on her back, wide as a Roman crucifix, with arms and legs spread out. Her eyes were closed, her chest did not rise. From the corner of the mouth, from the broken lips flowed a stream of blood.

“What is this? Who is it?” he backed away. When he fell on his back, having stumbled over a root sticking out of the ground, he heard a nasty, like the clucking of a disturbed chicken, Beor's laugh.

“What, are you afraid ?”he asked. “I have been suffering with you for two years. Such a bull, and act like a woman. You are a coward that I haven't strength. What the girl did not see? Do you want her? I have already.” the old man leaned toward the lying girl and pulled up her dress.

“No I do not want. Yes, she is dead. Did you kill her, and now you offer me?”

The old rapist leaned over the face of the victim.

“Live. I pressed her a little, so as not to scream. Well, come on quickly, and dump.”

“No, I dont want. Later. Go here.”

“Well, of course, you can take a donkey. But, now, no, my dear. You know, we always do everything equally. Do you want dodge from our deal. And then you hand over me on occasion, yes? It will not work, if anything, so we will hang on the neighboring pillars.”

He grabbed the assistant by the collar and pushed to the girl. “Damn” thoughts Bilam. “I must escape from this pervert. It’s better not to be always full, but alive. And for such cases we, if not the Romans, then the Jews will sent us to the forefathers.”

But now there was nowhere to go. Beor did not throw words at the wind. Kills at night and find another partner. With him will be. Bilam tried to tune, but nothing worked. Yes, there is still Beor something squeaked from the side. An inexperienced rapist turned his head toward the old man: "What else do you want?" He stretched a tilted jug of oil to him: "On, drop on the hand, and it will go."

Bilam did not remember what happened next. He was a healthy thirty-year-old man, who had not dealt with a woman for half a year already, so what should have earned, finally earned, albeit with oil. But, he did not remember whether he had mastered the young maiden body that didn’t react to him or didn’t carry his descendants where Beor demanded of him. He came round already far from the grove.

They walked long and fast while they were strong enough. In the evening, having gone as far north as possible, the rapists stopped for the night.

“Go to sleep, you still can't see anything,” the first issue commanded. “It doesn't seem like someone missed her. So you can calmly sleep off and do our passage in the morning on the chill, until it starts to hot.”

Bilam did not answer. He was shaking from the very moment he left, he turned around and noticed that the girl they had raped was watching them go.

“Damn, damn, damn!” he thought. “Why did it have to do? There is money. Well, impatient to you, old goat, so on any inn in front of you legs spread! There are always two or three harbors to choose from. Really it was impossible to wait. Oh, I feel, it will be trouble. "

Bilam has long noticed the ability to feel great trouble. In such cases, he began to feel sick, right up to vomiting. True, there was no sense in this ability of his, therefore, it happened only after nothing could be returned back.

“Now I’ll not run away from this old prodigal, he’ll hear,” he thought to himself, staring at the starry sky. “ And in the villages, too, they will notice a lonely stranger. Surrender to him if he starts asking. We'll have to wait when we get to the city. But, there, all, tear the claws, it is not too late. Otherwise, all this will not end well ... I wonder where this reptile will carry. Although, in principle, it is all the same. ”Having calmed down a bit of himself, tired of his experiences and long transition, Bilam fell asleep. This was the last dream in his short and unattractive life.