Petya and folk

Peter Sokolov has many wards. He helps them, and they tell him stories from his life

Pyotr Sokolov not only helps veterans, migrants and single mothers, but also records different stories for them-about how they live in a shelter for single mothers for girls from good families, how grandmothers pay insurance so that children live easier after their death, how abandoned children find their parents

Everything is good for me, Petrovich

“Why do I have. Everything is fine with me, here, you see, I bought sausages, cheaper vermisers. Now I am concocting something at home. Do I need a lot of one? Sometimes I don’t cook anything, so, I drink tea all day, and that’s all. As Vadika buried, there was no one to cook for. Yes, there will be already six months for the ninth, but I have been dreaming of everything at night. Yesterday I saw him, and he was drunk there. I told him: "What are you drinking, they will repress you for this!" And he: "Do not scream, mothers, they are not punished here." That's what - that was not sober here, and there, you see, I found a bottle. So he was good for me, good, affectionate, all “mom, mother”, I will always help from the store. But, you see, the vodka ruined. So he died - neither a kitten nor a child. Already when they took away the ambulance, he looked at me everything. “It hurts me, mom,” he says. And I repeated how many times I repeated: "Do not drink." “You don’t scream, mom, the pressure will rise, who will go to you for pills.” Here are all his last words. Oh, I was with me dissent!

My eldest, Yura, is a completely different field. He is currently in charge of the insurance office. The wife of Luda works for his hairdresser, the girl is so prominent. Last year they went to Thailand, to ride elephants. Yeah, Yura brought photos, Vadka and I watched. Father. In general, my eldest is different from school. The neatly so serious, very lean. Here, when Vadik was gone, I began to call from the office about the funeral. Yes, they called such an amount, horror is simple. I have only half of this amount. Then Yurka came, paid everything else. And after the funeral for nine days, he brought me a piece of paper that he, they say, insured me. You, says, mother, is not young already, if something happens to you, I have no extra money for the funeral. Here, look, I insured you for 500 thousand. For five years, I will pay monthly one and a half thousand, but then, if you die, they give compensation. Well, I answer, look, you are a competent guy, I trust you.

And then three months ago comes, he says, Luda curses that I pay these one and a half for you. And I to him: “And it’s right that she swears. Why do you need me? You are young, you have to go to rest, but here I am. ” In general, I took all the papers for myself, now I pay for my death. But I die, they will have money, and now let them live peacefully. Give them God! "

Signs

In the morning we went with friends on an excursion "Secrets of the railway station in Novosibirsk." I remember this place since the late 1990s, when I came here to feed the homeless. While friends listened about the features of station architecture, about balconies there and balustrades, I looked at the platform toilet.

It was there that the village once worked. A large, throat lady, about forty years old, probably. She found out in advance about the train that the draftees were lucky, went to the men's toilet and waited. I don’t know how many soldiers later, blushing, were treated, but the village itself, having gathered the lads, disappeared for a couple of weeks, while everything was strangling. She respected me just like a dude who did not want anything from her. Even a couple of times I offered for free services. He did not dare, he was shaking, which.

And there, on the platform, Sanya-Zhulik worked there. He gathered around him fugitive orphanages, those rural rotozes were cleaned from electric trains. While the boys worked, the crook in the old building trailer was provided by life, he made bunks, put a kettle with boiling water in a corner. Then somehow he met serious people at the station and did not share something with them. Found it stabbed on the shore of the Ob.

A little lower, behind the very rails, I was once robbed, the first, still huge and heavy, the cell phone from the car was taken out of the car. When the next day he fed the homeless, they brought it back, said that they were apologized, the guilty was punished, because he did not work according to concepts.

And there, behind the transition bridge, I met Luda, a homeless alcoholic, which we later treated and married to the village. I have not seen her for a hundred years, I don’t know whether she was alive, she really loved to attach to the scale.

But who is interested in these little private stories? Let's listen to the Stalin Empire, about chandeliers, stucco molding and facades, about how Lenin and Kim Jong Ir came to Novosibirsk. There, even signs in their honor were installed. And about the village and about the visiting young, endless soldiers, who is interested in listening to? Exactly. Therefore, they do not hang any signs.

From a clean sheet

Vaska is a fundamental and decisive guy. Vasya had a wife, well, such a pretty woman, but at the same time a little rotary hitch. Oh, Vaska already tracked her, and read SMSKi, and even beat her. At one time, she was staring, became pregnant, her daughter gave birth. But then again for the old. Vaska, of course, pulled the farm, and his daughter poured to him - dad is always at home, dad is good. And somehow, Vaskin’s wife completely walked, became pregnant from another and left the house. Three months later, Vasya found out that he had abandoned her, and she fell into a shelter for mothers. Vasya walked, walked around the apartment. Daughter behind him with a tail: "Dad, do not be upset, let's better play the designer." Vasya looked at his daughter, her bluish eyes, brothels were bluish. "Come on, he says, a hazard, get dressed, let's go for a walk." Nastena quickly dressed, thinks whether they go to the slides or to the sandbox. And Vasya took his daughter out into the street, sat with her in the tram, drove to the shelter, where the pregnant woman lives, and there he left Nastena's daughter. “You see,” says the ex-wife, “I don’t want to at least remind me of something about you. I want everything from scratch. ” He said how he cut off. And he left, quietly covering the door.

Illustration: Plavinskaya fields for TD

Evil Aunt

Two years ago, a friend began to visit groups of anonymous alcoholics - he himself could not cope with severe addiction. At first it was difficult, "the ears were already wrapped." But then he had been embarrassed, learned to control himself, and for two years now. I went to work in the fitting workshop, the slabs for construction are made there. The work is hard, but they pay well. And therefore, the men of the local people are always not averse to drinking. But he holds on, knows how everything can end. After work right home. And the brigadier was a mental man came across, asked what and how. He patted on the shoulder and even sympathized. The work goes on as usual, only the relationship with Aunt Sveta that works on the crane in the workshop, the guy did not work out at all. She screams at him constantly, with all swearing obscenities, some kind of evil.

Once the foreman approaches the guy and asks him to help - to remove the garbage in the workshop. The guy immediately agrees, takes a shovel and go. The foreman smiles and thanks. Next week again the same request, the guy again behind the shovel. So the month passes, the second, until one lady from the office came up to the guy and said that the brigadier’s son was actually listed as a cleaner, and he regularly receives a salary, and for some reason he removes for him. The boy only shrugged his shoulders, but when in the evening the foreman came up to him again with a shovel, the guy asks him, why so? The foreman twisted the muzzle and once again asks: "So you will not clean up?" "For free - no." The leader left, and the guy finished his work and home.

In the morning he comes to the workshop, and he is called to the most important boss. The guy went to the two -story office, to the oak office. And there the uncle of about forty -five sits, so tanned, tanned, as if unhealthy at all. His uncle directly asks him: "Are you an alcoholic?" The guy, after a 12-shaped program, who learned to admit this, replies: “Yes.” Well, the uncle sighs, here, read, and then sign the application.
The guy took a leaf from the hands of himself, and there is a collective complaint from the entire brigade about his "constantly drunk condition."

A drunk comes, a drunk leaves. And then the request to dismiss. The signature of the foreman under the letter, of course, is other squiggles. The guy fired. Right or two. It was a shame to his tears.

I went to the workshop to pick up interchangeable clothes. On the way, the aunt of the light came across, as always, something grumbled viciously. And only he reached the entrance, as he was crying. "Come back, fools!" - They say.

It turns out that the only person who did not sign this complaint was the very grumbling and loud aunt of light. She ran to himself when she realized that the matter was bad. She, they say, arranged such a scandal there that he only threw up his hands and ordered the guy to stop. They returned him to the workplace, promised the foreman of the foreman by the spring. Just fulfill the plan! And this is a guy quite on the shoulder.

He is now not offended by a loud aunt of light, he knows that she simply says everything she thinks. The only decent "man" for the entire drunk and descended workshop.

I will share my life

The girl came for material help. She needs five thousand. Exactly so much is not enough to pay off the debt in the communal apartment. Most of the money was allocated to her in the administration to pay off the debt, well, we are these five thousand. A peasant is sitting in the corridor, he recently lost his work and now, he also came for help, but only by products. I heard that we were talking about paying for communal duty, I tried to joke, they say, I would have been helping me so that they would help.

I don’t want to give five thousand here, but much more. I want to share my days.

Oh, man, you don't need it. That's right at all. You would probably have lost your mind if you had at least one tenth of what she has. Oncology in a fourth degree girl, a year of radiology and chemistry, and now, understanding and accepting everything, trying to privatize a room in a communal apartment so that the child remains. They don’t give debts, it has accumulated during the time that she was in the hospital.

I don’t want to give five thousand here, but much more. I want to share my days, just in vain. Take yourself, you understand more in every moment and really appreciate them. And we, as usual, will profess everything, without realizing that everything was waking up through the sand through our fingers, everything went away.

Girl from a good family

A variety of women fall into our shelter for mothers with children. Not necessarily from dysfunctional families or unfortunate graduates of orphanages. It happens that girls from decent families landed on the street. Well, the circumstances were so. About a year ago, a girl from an ordinary family came to us, which she suddenly lost. The misfortune happened, and the living space was not them. Here the girl was left alone with a child on the street. From the very first days it became clear that this ward is completely different - erudite, obligatory, punctual, the child is healthy and well -groomed, not like other mothers. Those like children themselves. Behind them are eyes and eyes. And with her, teachers are relieved, there is no need to stand over her.

Mom is homemade, they carry their gear bags, husbands are on duty under the windows. And ours is nothing and no one

Yes, only I felt our new, so to speak, “cultural superiority” and began to mock others. The nose lifted. She is not like that, she is from another test. And then her baby was sick, and she was in the hospital. And there are homemade mothers, they drag them with gearboards, husbands are on duty under the windows, tablets and phones to the wards are handed over. And ours is nothing and no one. She eats sick leave, reads books left by someone, and no one calls her under her frozen window. Well, and the mothers began to squint at her in the hospital, you see, she may be problematic from an orphanage? They will treat an apple or orange, and then whisper at the windowsill, they look at her squinted. She, of course, said nothing, that a year ago, she had these oranges herself, nor about the usual summer vacation in a country sanatorium, nor about the sudden death of her relatives. Sundored. But returning to us, she stopped looking down on others.

Illustration: Plavinskaya fields for TD

Daughter

Read also Sofia Avdyukhina: “In this Khrushchev, a small paradise reigns on the fifth floor every week” Peter Sokolov rushes throughout Novosibirsk-he manages the work of the Karitas Novosibirsk Center, helps single mothers, migrant children, tries to feed veterans

The girl lived up to twenty years old, and at twenty found out that literally two streets, her mother lives, well, does not live, but, frankly, lives. It’s bad for her at all. And what do you think? The girl gathered in spirit and went. I saw a small, exhausted body of an unfamiliar woman, loneliness, household disorder, recipes for several thousand-it is just right to turn around, to leave, say: "And what have I to do with it?" And people, knowing the story of the girl, will understand. Who will condemn when you were determined by the stamping in the orphanage. And the girl came to life. Very thin, sensitive, living. She stood at the threshold, looked again at the patient and remained. And until the last minute I did not abandon. I wore pots, soap, the bed changed. Did they say? Almost no. The mother had no strength almost, not up to conversation. Everything is in silence, but with love. And when the hour came, the girl held her hand in her hand, and then buried her. I spent in peace. He says that there is no more resentment and stone in the soul. It has become easy to live, now he looks at a lot differently. She stopped judging, learned to forgive.