Читать книгу Book -11 Aliens novella - В. Спейс - Страница 7

My grandmother met me at home.

"Tomorrow is Sunday, we'll go to Buzovaya Farm, to the bazaar." – My grandmother Eugenia Lavrentyevna solemnly informed me.

The bazaar was far away, six kilometers from Spitec. Local residents called this place "Bazaar on Buzovaya". The settlement of the Buzovaya hamlet is located from Kiev on the thirtieth- thirty first kilometer of the Brest- Litovsk highway.

Grandmother announced this news and with a pleased look added:

– Maybe I cannot go next time. I'll go for the last time …

Early in the morning, I woke up from a light grandmother's touch.

– Get up now it's time. She leaned over me in a white clean kerchief and stroked my head.

I rubbed my eyes. He rose, drowsily went to the kitchen. There on the stool stood a bucket of water and a mug, and next to it, near the stool, a garbage can. Having scooped up a mug of water, he took it in his mouth, then poured water from his mouth into his hands over the garbage can. And, soaping his wet hands with soap and soap, he washed himself. For the grandmother came two middle- aged women.

They were two aunts in white colorful handkerchiefs. One distant relative, Aunt Manya from the neighboring village Lychanka. And the other, my grandmother's eldest daughter, Aunt Maria, or, as everyone called her, was also Aunt Many. They were like my grandmother in white kerchiefs. Aunt Mate from Lychanka is wearing a red woolen skirt and brown shoes without heels. And aunt Manya from Spitec is dressed in a light long and spacious cotton skirt in gray- brown peas. She has sandals on her legs. And my grandmother wore soft home slippers, in which, as she said, it would be convenient for her to go the country road.

The sun touched the tops of trees with its rays, coloring them gently pink. Dew glistened on the grass. Potatoes in the garden blossomed with white flowers. There was a lull in field work. That time, when the harvest absorbed moisture, fertilizer and heat – ripened.

The peasants could make a break. End of July, beginning of August. Then, to gather strength and harvest, stock up for the winter.

The road slowly swam under the unhurried steps of the women. With curious eyes I peered into the surrounding world, so amazing and huge, full of the incessant singing of birds and the chirring of grasshoppers. The screams of scurrying swallows and the blue- blue sky. The day promised to be hot. Behind the coolness of the village the road turned into a field. Then my grandmother took off her slippers and went on barefoot. The women followed suit, saying that they would reach the bazaar and put on shoes. Slowly walked the field road through the space towards the bluish sinuous line of the horizon. The sun had not yet risen to its hot splendor, and it was easy and pleasant to walk, although soft sand underfoot. On Smolianka, on the way to the bazaar, we met a teenage girl Katya. Smolianka, this place has acquired this area from time immemorial, when in the place of the old Lybyd river bed, now covered with lush grass, spacious river flowed along which fishermen's boats swam. On the bank of this river there was a fishing village, and a place where the fishing boats were crooked and were washed down. And this place called Smolianka. Now it was a good place for grazing cows. Here Katia drove out Shpitkovo herd to Smolianka. She ran up to us and cheered with greetings. Just two kilometers from Spitec, Katya kicked out a herd of cows early. Grandmother, having found our Zorka, looked in her direction. Zorka stopped grazing and raised her face, and she began to hum down granny. Evgenia Lavrentyevna commanded her detachment:

"Come on, let's go soon, or else they'll follow us." – Quickly saying goodbye to Katya, we moved on. It was nice to meet a fellow tribe so "far" from home and see us too.

Through the field passed, when the sun was already palpably warming our backs. But the first trees at the roadside sheltered the walkers with a shadow, and it became easier to walk. The grandmothers decided to rest and sat down under the tree on the grass, at the same time and put on their shoes. Buzovaya, with its bazaar, was across the highway. It is enough to pass another two hundred meters. The noise of the trading crowd, the grunting, the mooing and growl of the animals, merged in the remote homonym of the already close bazaar.

In the market aunt Manya from Lychanka bought a pig. And he hovered in the bag with wild yells. With this pig, endlessly screaming in the bag, we walked through the bazaar, attracting everyone's attention. They traded everything here, horses, cows, puppies, kitchen utensils, shoes, clothes, animal feed, seeds and so on …

I could not understand what my grandmother was looking for. But when aunt Manya of Lychanka approached a woman holding a school uniform in her hands, she began to haggle, I understood everything. Grandmother made me wear a tunic. All at once approvingly nodded their heads, and the form became mine for ten rubles. The pig in the bag, then calmed down, then again yelled violently at the whole bazaar. And only when Aunt Manya of Lychanka left with a fellow villager who traded fodder, we got rid of the pig's shrill screech. She went on a cart with her fellow villager. And we came the same way late at night home.

Have come. How nice it was after a hot sunny trip to plunge into the pure coolness of the house. Our mother met us in a white kerchief tied in the manner of Bolshevik red kerchiefs. It's nice to see her friendly smile, which was extremely rare.

"Well, did you buy the uniform?" – when she saw the purchase, she asked grandmother with pleasure. And my grandmother unrolled the knot. And got out the school uniform from there.

– And you tried on? – asked anxiously Mama, – Come on, Valik, put it on.

I put on a school uniform, a cap with a cockade and looked like a little boy from a sailboat, only the tunic was not marine, but a school jacket.

– Well now you can go to school. "From nowhere," Nyuska’s voice rang out.

Nyuska was considered a cousin, but behaved as if she were an older and own sister, allowing herself various educational attacks in my direction. She was of medium height; she was sixteen years old. She was distinguished by her venomous manner of talking and now she tried to yelp:

"You're like a minister in uniform!"

She lived with Olga Andreevna and was the daughter of Aunt Theodosia or, as her mother, Olga's sister, Aunt Fedosya called everything. During the war Fedosya Andreevna, the fascists were driven to Germany. The Germans took it to Poland and placed it in the concentration camp "Ausventzim", photographed and put a tattoo on their hands. There, after learning the details of its origin, they gave it to a German farmer. Farmer Aunt Fedosya worked until the end of the war. And after the Victory, I returned to the pregnant home. As expected, in his time to give birth, gave birth to a girl, who was named Nyusi. After a while she was found by her lover, whom she had met in Germany. It, as well as it was taken out by the Germans for work. He drove milk from German cows, which Aunt Fedosya milked there. They built a house and began to live. Aunt Fedosi's husband had three children, whom he took after building a house. Aunt Fedosi's protests did not give anything. Uncle Leontius, that was the name of her aunt's husband, was a Byelorussian and spoke with a terrible Belarusian accent, confusing Russian, Byelorussian and Ukrainian words. Sometimes it was difficult to understand. Especially when the dose of moonshine was taken to the soul, a dialogue of unholy moral delirium began, from which my headache began. Knowing this property of his Leontius, Aunt Fedosya tried to take him home as soon as possible. To me already at my preschool age, it seemed that this marriage was not will last a long time. And it happened, but after a few painful years of my poor aunt Fedosi’s life with Uncle Leonty.

So, the bride show was successful. Grandmother Eugenia Lavrentyevna no longer did such long trips and was engaged in farming. I cooked food by the stove, cleaned the walnuts, helped to harvest potatoes from the garden. So the worries came on the first of September. The mother prepared for this celebration in full. I had a brand new briefcase, notebooks, a pamphlet, a pen, an inkwell, ink, and everything necessary for a first- grader…

Say, well, at least to see it like I see you, can I?

"Well, what can I tell you?" – Silence.

"Maybe there is some way, anyway, eh?"

"Think what you're saying?" You know a continuum better than I do. It's your idea to clone yourself, and the professor, as her husband to be allowed into a natural birth and on the planet Earth.

– It is not true! – Exclamation of indignation – He himself wished this and he himself asked me that I would be with him. To see this boy is very pleasant for him, and at the same time I want to hug him once, to caress, to caress, and to cling to me.

– As you do not understand, we are on Earth, and, incidentally, your "husband", reborn in the image of this boy – the friend. You see and hear how it does not fit into this environment, even though we tried to place it in a family with a certain wealth and an artless environment.

"Well, commander, you are as always right. Only pay attention that this boy is you, only after many generations. – Sad melody in the voice, – By the way, you're also a clone of my husband, like me, a clone of his wife. Also you are not real. Here it is, this boy is the real one, born naturally from a real mother, and not in the incubator of the Coalition, as we are with you. It carries the radiation of our young sun, which exists in the distant past with respect to our vibration of time. He has a stable emulation, inherent in his peers. – With some pride said the partner, and her voice sounded with a feeling of envy.