or An attempt at a New Year's tale about Tsar Saltan

christmas/history

Everyone gets gifts at Christmas. Among the many things that we collect in the Christmas issue so that readers can choose gifts for their loved ones, every year there is a hidden gift for Kommersant readers themselves - a Christmas story. This is the story of LYUDMILA PETRUSHEVSKAYA - about one happy Christmas in her life.

It was Christmas evening.

The Fedorovs, Tanya and Alyosha, came to visit us with three-year-old Nikola.

The day before, Petya’s mother and I decorated the Christmas tree with whatever we had, and Santa Claus was made from scrap materials - buttons, cotton wool, pencils and a Christmas tree garland.

And then there was a holiday, everyone sat down at the table, ate, clinked glasses, and started talking.
Tanya said that Nikola did not want to be born at all.

“I was going to give birth at home, and the midwife two weeks before the birth said that it couldn’t be taken, you had placenta previa. And the contractions began, nothing happened, I had to go to the maternity hospital.

Petya’s mother picked up:

- Caesarean?

- Yes. I wake up and ask: “Who was born to me?” And she says: “Your last name” - very sternly. I went and found out: “You have a boy.”

Alexey added:

- When asked what his name is, he answers: “NIKOLAF-DRIV.” How? "NIKOLAF-DRIV!" How how? "F-FUCK!" He's generally stubborn. I say: “Nikola, put away the toys.” Everything is scattered about him. "Take it away." He stood up and stood. I say: “I’ll eventually collect everything in a bag and throw it away.” Costs. He lowered his eyes so much. “Well, should we throw it away?” - "Yes". His eyes were lowered, he was completely petrified with grief. I began to collect the toys in a bag, collected them and took them out. She remained as she stood.

“Well, we hid these toys behind the closet,” Tanya couldn’t resist.

Alexey continued, shaking his head, as if he had been illegally interrupted at the most important point:

- Here. I hid these toys behind the closet. And there, among the toys, there was such a big shiny star, a kind of design element. And this star turned out to be just behind the crack of the closet. You're walking by, you can see it. He walked past, saw and said: “And I missed this star so much!” And Tanina’s mother is watching TV lying on the floor. She doesn't see well. She puts Nikola’s crocodile under her head and looks. Now the crocodile is gone! Well, I gave her the crocodile from behind the closet. She lay down, as always, on the floor, with the crocodile under her neck. Nikola saw: “And I missed this crocodile so much!”

Now it’s Tanya’s turn:

- And our grandmother is sick. She is a half-doctor with incomplete education, and since she retired, she has been a professional patient for thirty years. Night walks and pushes a chair in front of her. Accordingly, a wild roar. He knocks on our door: “You had my thermometer somewhere.” We get up and look. And dad eats at night. He gets up, eats and remembers that he has important work to do. And it works until the morning.

Alexey intervened:

— And my grandmother worked as a pathologist all her life. Until the age of seventy-two, in Feodosia. She is pathologically neat and comes home from work to immediately wash the floor. Cleans the floors twice a day. And of course, grandfather never steps behind the rug, he takes off his shoes there. And one day their daughter, my mother, and her friend came to stay for a week. We lived, rested, and before leaving, we licked and cleaned everything. Then my mother calls my mother from Moscow: “Sorry, we left a mess.” - “Nothing, nothing, I’ve already cleaned up almost everything.”

Then I realized that we were having a holiday after all:
- SOOO! And now all the children recite a poem. Petya, do you know poetry?

Petya, pushed by his mother, stood up from the table and turned his face to the wall. And he got ready to recite.

He was turned to face the audience.
There was a pause.
Petya's mom announced:
- Nekrasov. Petya, are you Nekrasova?
He nodded and shouted:

- NEVETEBUSHUENABOARD (here there was a set of air) NEZHGOROPOBEZHALIMOMO (gain of air) ICE CREAM WATER DAZHOR (air) BYPASSES THE LADS OF SHVOIGLYA... (pause, thinks).

Petya’s parents exclaimed in unison:
-- Well!!!
Petya took a deep breath and continued:

- LOOKS - GOOD BLOWING... TRAPYZHAMELI... (air) AND THERE ARE NO Cracks... INETLI DE (in one gulp) GOLOZHEMLI!!!

Petya’s parents and others (in unison):
-- Well done! Well done! Smart! Nekrasova learned so much!
Mom Petya (solo):
- And Petya receives a gift!!!

I must say that in the bag from yesterday there was a huge candy, the so-called Snickers. The dream of every kindergartener.

Petya takes the bag and triumphantly shows Nikola this huge Snickers. He immediately stuffs half of it into his mouth at once.

He begins to chew with difficulty, working his jaws widely, crookedly and at random.
Nikola slowly bats her eyelashes.

Three-year-old Nikola has huge eyes and a huge head like a sledgehammer. He watches in fascination as Petya opens his mouth and barely makes ends meet. Nikola’s mother Tanya explains:

- Oh, Nikola doesn’t eat sweets at all, he’s even more interested in candy wrappers!

I, as a long-term organizer of home Christmas trees, a cook, a decorator, a maker of costumes, Christmas tree decorations, a gift picker (on my door there was a notice “Gift. Do not enter!” hung on my door all year round), then an accompanist, a choir leader, a dishwasher, children and floors (it’s scary to remember), I understand what’s coming now, and I’m warning Tanya’s detailed future story about the properties of the amazing Nikola.

I quickly ask:
- What poem does Nikola know?
Tanya is responsible for the child immediately:
“In my opinion, he doesn’t understand what it means to “know a poem.” We actually have him...
Dad Alyosha intervenes:
- Nikola, you know the poem, right?

Pause. Nikola cannot take his eyes off Petya, who is having difficulty chewing, because he has never gone to kindergarten and does not know that such a sight exists.

Petya works, slurping with effort.
Nikola slowly bats her eyelashes.
Petya still couldn’t finish the first half of the Snickers and was completely stuck in his teeth.
Nikola looks at this attraction in fascination and remains silent.
Alyosha speaks loudly, turning his son towards the Christmas tree:
- Let Nikola read poetry to Santa Claus!

(We made this Santa Claus yesterday from a ping pong ball, three buttons, two pencils, a red Petya sock and a shiny Christmas tree garland.)

Alyosha takes Nikola to a Christmas tree made from branches (they broke it yesterday in the neighborhood) and to Santa Claus, who is standing in a 0.5 liter plastic bottle covered with Petya’s second red sock.

We see (not hear) Nicola, nodding her head, muttering something, addressing a half-liter bottle, above which sticks a bearded ping-pong ball in a cap made from the heel of Petya’s sock. The ball has everything as it should: two white buttons are the eyes, then cotton eyebrows, a lower red button-nose and, of course, a mustache and a sparkling beard, as well as a garland collar that luxuriously descends along Petya’s red sock.

Now Nikola has finished nodding, Alyosha returns with his son to the table. We clap.
Petya’s mother hurriedly says:

- Hooray! Nikola receives a gift! (But she is somewhat confused, because she also prepared Snickers for Nikola, so her eyes run around in circles, along the walls, what to give something like that.)

-- Now!
She runs out and comes back with a beautiful little candle.

However, Petya, still with his teeth glued together, unable to open his mouth, suddenly exclaims:

-- Tickling: schchya our little thing!!! Mmmozhzha (mine)!
- This is another one! Yours is there!

Petya breaks down and rushes out, followed by his mother, Petya also returns with a candle, twirling it in front of Nikola with his half-glued mouth:

- M? M?
Nikola slowly blinks her eyes again.

Four-year-old Petya is taking a young fighter course in a city kindergarten. Fights, sticks, arguments about whose stick it is, wild screams while walking, announcements at the lockers: “Do not enter with weapons.”

Three-year-old Nikola does not yet know the laws of hazing.

The limit is coming to all the possibilities of Petya's mother (after making Santa Claus, general cleaning as a result of making Santa Claus, continuous cooking and Petya's temperature throughout the last week).

She says in her most joyful voice:
- Children, go to Petya’s room and play.

The children, yes, went to another room, they supposedly went. But they returned halfway, first Nikola, blinking his eyes, then a disheveled Petya.

Then Nikola’s mother remembered and said that he remembered Petya’s truck from the last time.

Petya’s mother, delighted at the opportunity to keep the children occupied in Petya’s room, exclaims:

-- Here you go! Petya! Show Nikola your truck!
Here the children really left.
Ugh. The adults sighed and began to clink glasses.
A cheerful conversation ensued.

Petya, however, after half a minute triumphantly rolls out a huge plastic car towards the adults and immediately sits astride it.

Nikola, after thinking and batting her eyelashes, goes and returns with a smaller car.

Petya jumps off the truck and with an explanatory cry, “It’s mine!!!” snatches Nikola's car.

Nikola leaves and returns with a machine gun.
Petya also takes away the machine gun, shouting “This is mine!!!” He is for justice.
Nikola leaves again, Petya prudently runs after him.
Nikola is heard crying.
Soooo!
Both mothers rushed to help.
Alexei shouted after them:
- Moms! Come here! Let them do it themselves!
Well, the mothers returned, but the boys came after them.
Alexey thought and said (very weightily):
- Children, should you go play from here?

The children leave. After a short time, Petya’s cough and Nikola’s thin voice are heard, he pokes his head into the adults’ door with the words “He’s sick!” Moms rush there. Petya sits on the table, sweaty, shaggy, and coughs Snickers and chicken right onto the sofa.

The jaws, thank God, fell apart.

His father runs in, takes a sofa cushion and begins to remove the wet cover from it. Petya, still sitting on the table, coughs again. I grab him and say: “Let’s go wash.”

Petya's dad notices me:
“He’s coughing, he shouldn’t.” He's sick.
I reasonably object:
- But what should we do? He's all wet!
She took him to the bathroom, washed him, changed his clothes, and took him to bed.
And here a completely different story begins.

- Well, Petya (I say, sitting down next to him), I’ll tell you a fairy tale. What fairy tale do you want? About what?

Next (attention) we are having negotiations.
Characters:
PETER

PETER'S MOTHER

PETER'S DAD

Me: Well, what kind of fairy tale do you want?

PETYA (alert). No, read The Three Little Pigs to me.
I. I won't. I tell stories, not read.
PETYA (trying to save himself). Then let mom read it.
I'm going to the adults.

PETER'S MOTHER. I can't read, I immediately fall asleep. I always play him a CD with a fairy tale.

Me (returning to Petya). Mom can't read to you. Would you like us to play you a disc?
PETER. Then let dad read!
I'm going to talk to his dad.
PETER'S DAD. And I fall asleep even before reading.
Me (returning). Petya, dad can't read to you. So sleep like this, without a fairy tale.
PETYA (after thinking well). Okay, tell me.
Me: And about whom?
PETER. About Tsar Saltan.
ME: Okay. Once upon a time there lived Tsar Saltan. And he had three sons.
PETYA (with a wince). No no! Not three!

Me: Listen! And he had three sons: Ivan Saltanovich, Divan Saltanovich and Taburet Saltanovich.

PETER. And Ivan will shoot from a bow! And got married! I have an onion! I shot! I will protect everyone!

ME: Yes. The father gave them all three bows. And he says...
PETYA (hurrying). And then he burned her skin!

Later. Then Ivan Saltanovich shot from a bow and hit a frog, and married the frog.

PETER. How did you get into the frog? How - into a frog?

Me: It's a fairy tale. And Divan Saltanovich shot from a bow and hit the saw, like this: ding! And he married a saw.

(Surprise in bed.)

And then Taburet Saltanovich shot from a bow and hit a nail. And he married a nail.

PETYA (wants to get out of a dangerous situation). And then they went to the feast!!!

ME: Yes, and Tsar Saltan invited them all for the New Year. What can your wives boast about?

PETER. She put the bones up her sleeve!!!
ME: Wait. Well, they were eating herring, and the frog put the herring head in his sleeve.
PETER. She's not! They ate swans!

Me: No, they ate swans, and ours ate herring. And the frog will swing his sleeve! And with a herring head she stuck Tsar Saltan right in the eye!

PETYA (yelling). No!!! Not this way!!! The forests and fields have opened up there!

Me: That’s how it is with you, but not with us. She hit the herring head right in Tsar Saltan's eye, the Tsar got angry and kicked the frog out. And Ivan Saltanovich also left. Then Tsar Saltan says: well, what are your wives capable of? Then Divan Saltanovich’s wife, who was drinking, began sawing the floor so furiously. Everyone thought it would be a miracle, but it turned out to be a big hole in the floor. Tsar Saltan kicked out the saw too. And Divan Saltanovich left.

PETER. And almost...
ME: Well, there you go.
PETER. No, why...

ME: Wait. Then it was the turn of the nail, the wife of Taburet Saltanovich. But a nail cannot exist without a hammer!

PETYA (perked up). Yes! Hammer! I have a hammer, I’ll show you now (he wants to get off the bed).

I. Stop. But there was no hammer there!
PETER. I have it! (wants to jump).
I. Stop. It's like in a fairy tale. They didn't have a hammer...
PETER. There it is, in the box! Look! Out! (coughs).

Me. But we didn’t, lie down (interrupting Petya’s new cry) - and then the nail stood on its toe, spun around and flew straight into Tsar Saltan’s forehead. Tsar Saltan bent down, and the nail flew into the wall and drove right up to the head.

There is silence in the bed. Petya thinks sadly, then coughs.

Here you go. And then Tsar Saltan says: “Get out of here, you nail and stool.” But the nail sits in the wall and does not leave. Then they called a nail puller.

PETYA (feverishly). And our grandfather also has a nail puller! Iron!
ME: Well, here we go. The nail puller came and said...
PETER. At my grandfather's dacha! We have it there! High on the door!
ME: The nail puller has arrived...

PETER. At the dacha too! We have! Grandpa doesn't allow it! Otherwise you’ll take out all our nails! I put it on the door!

Me. The nail puller came, and the nail from the wall squeaked: “You don’t dare touch me, I’m a princess!”

Deep thought sets in in bed.

Me: So what should a nail puller do? He found himself in a difficult situation. On the one hand, Tsar Saltan ordered the nail to be pulled out. On the other hand, this nail is a princess!

Petya is still thinking. His cheeks are too rosy. Possibly a slight fever.

ME: Well, there you go. And a nail from the wall squeaks: “This nail puller is going to break my neck! I’ll come out myself!” Well, everyone left here, Tsar Saltan left, and three weeks later the nail came out of the wall. During this time, Ivan Saltanovich and the frog already gave birth to tadpoles with human ears. They raked them...

PETYA (hesitating). Tadpoles? Which?
Me: Well, you know, the chicken has chicken, the cow...
PETYA (joyfully, he is finally sure of this). Calf!

Me: But the frog has tadpoles. Then Divan Saltanovich and the saw were born saws with four legs and backs.

In bed they thought and somersaulted over their heads.

Me. Lie down. And when the nail came out, he immediately gave birth to iron stools, and everyone had big hats...

PETYA (after a pause, hopelessly). And read "The Three Little Pigs"...

And then he fell asleep and turned out to be so small, small, with a fluffy white head, ruddy. Peter looks like a pig.

year 2000

"Christmas". Appendix No. 240 dated December 23, 2004, page 46

Christmas tree in Peredelkino