A quarter of the dollar, or the flight

“Such things” offer readers a new story by Alexei Motorov, the author of the novels “Young years of the nurse of the steam locomotive” and “Crime of Dr. steambozov”

Once upon a time, the uncle of my classmate Vovka decided to become the owner of the car. Refusing in all of himself, in a few years he accumulated a decent amount, added money from the house sold in the village, borrowed a little more, waited for a line and finally bought Moskvich-412 for himself. From that moment he got the opportunity to go where his eyes look, getting out of Moscow on Friday early in the morning and returning late in the evening of Sunday. I wanted to see the world, and at the same time find a special place, where it will then be pulled and it will be pleasant to return. The roads at that time were empty, penny gasoline, the country is large.

Once, in the middle of summer, driving his iron horse south, he passed Kolomna, drove into Ryazan, rested a little, dumped, and then went on.

The road flew under the wheels, the fields and steppes flashed to the right and left. The Oka River showed, then disappeared behind the rows of corn and sunflowers, then the asphalt ended, the primer began, then it disappeared, the barely noticeable track remained, which an hour later led to the pine forest and the barrier in front of it. Vovkin’s uncle decided not to stop, as if feeling something, bravely traveled around the barrier and moved forward along a wide path. And for sure. The forest quickly parted, the meadow opened, and followed by the river. The car drove into thick grass and stopped.

The beauty, which opened the eye, was such that Vovkin’s uncle immediately realized: he found the same cherished corner, where not so much to buy and go fishing, but to relax with his soul and rejoice at the eye.

A week later, he appeared here, thoroughly preparing, with a tent, fishing rods, and his vacation arrived. It turned out that this place is the security zone of the reserve, but Vovkin Uncle was not without reason was a companion man. He instantly made friends with the director, swearing an oath that he would not engage in poaching, or arson of forest, or other outrages.

Returning to Moscow, he painted the three weeks spent there so that the next summer, the father and his mother had already gone with him, grabbing a little Vovka. They had no more questions where to spend the next vacation.

Shameful flight

For the first time I happened to get there in the mid -eighties. It was June, I graduated from massage courses, and I had practical classes in the clinic of nervous diseases, where Vovka had been a masseur by that time for several years. He suggested that I, and another friend of his friend to wave for the weekend in one good place on his brand new, already second in a row, presented by his father's “Zhiguli”. To relax, unwind, drink, talk.

We gathered for a week: we purchased a provisions, drink and a smoke, found gas tiles with a cylinder, so as not to spoil the ecology, and even a small TV, so that in the lap of nature to miss the World Cup.

But as soon as we got to the treasured place, unloaded, smashed the tent on the shore and, in anticipation of dinner with a view of the river, were cighed into the water, as clouds of mosquitoes flew and let's eat. At first we did not attach much importance to this. Think! Now we’ll dilute the bonfires - and they will lag behind. The bonfire, as it turned out, only attracted them, and with every second hordes increased many times. They climbed into the eyes and ears, sting, like wild wasps. To replace each slammer, a hundred or two relatives flew with a fierce desire to take revenge. I had to urgently get into the sweaters and seal caps. It turned out instantly that the mosquitoes were not an obstacle, their proboscis was sewn up any fabric, like steel drill drill. I was an erudite in biology and knew that only females bite mosquitoes, but these were bitten by all individuals, including infants, disabled people and elderly. They sucked our red blood cells at such a speed that another hour or two-and one could wait for the development of anemia with blood transfusion in the future.

We resisted as we could, but soon surrendered and cowardly hid in the tent, tightly fastening the canopy. The rumble of mosquitoes above us resembled the howl of the engine of the supersonic liner, going to take off. Pouring vodka into mugs, cutting bread and sausages with thick slices, we hastily, in prostrically, dined, without saying any toasts, and fell to sleep, forgetting with a heavy dream, in a secret hope that the morning of a new day would accelerate this evil spirits.

But it wasn’t there. In the morning it was no better, and there was no longer any strength to even dismiss these creatures. We looked like we spent the night in an anthill, so our swollen physiognomies were covered with buzzers, blisters and cones.

There is nothing to do, we quickly gathered and shamefully retreated to Moscow. When on the way we decided to look at Selpo to buy some lemonade, the saleswoman, seeing our faces, immediately waved her hands: “Guys! Wine and vodka from two hours! ”

The consolation, although weak, was the stunning football match in France - Brazil, what he saw the same evening, where Platini in a penalty series shamefully planted past the gate. And the mosquito squeak seemed to me all the next week.

From now on, we began to come to the reserve no earlier than mid -July, stocking up by all possible means from blood -sucking. Mosquitoes at that time, although they appeared closer in the evening, but in the amount of the already insignificant, and behaved, I must say, decent. And the place turned out to be really amazing. A winding river with sandy shores and shallows pleased with clean water. There were a lot of mushrooms in the forests, the sky above the head struck the transparency and abundance of stars at night. But the main thing is that there was such silence that the murmur of water in the river seemed too loud sound.

Illustration: Anna Sarukhanova for TD

They told how one day the mother of Vovka, having sensed, looked around the spaciousness with a gently and, turning to the forester that she went to the parking lot to talk with the metropolitan residents, exclaimed:

- My God! What happiness is this to live here!

The forester looked heavily, silent a little and said:

- Happiness is how you live. You probably have water in the apartment from the tap, and there is a toilet. And we are here all year round with a short -lived.

And noticing bewilderment, he explained:

- In the summer, only by need you light up, like mosquitoes and midges bite. In winter, frosts, so that the ass will fall off the ass. Therefore, you have to do everything quickly: I lowered the ports, pulled the ports. Here is the lack of sucker. And you say happiness!

Forgotten assortment

At the entrance to the reserve there was a small village, or, as it was called differently, Cordon - a dozen yards, where the employees of the reserve, workers of forestry and trainees from the biofac, who walked small crane, I must say, incredibly stupid, albeit causing traditional romantic feelings, lived. Cranes are perceived by any moving object as a mother. And the larger this item, the more sons of veneration. There is a trainee, and behind her, ridiculously stepping, stretching her long neck, obediently follows a crane brood. But if a cyclist goes towards, the cranes instantly turn around and rush after him. The cow will pass, right there they are walking in amicably behind the cow. Well, there was no elephant in the reserve. Although there were bison.

At the cordon there was a tiny store with a typical assortment of Selpo. Salt, matches, candles, millet, buckets, mugs, laundry soap, cigarettes "North". Bread was brought every two days. If it happened, it was specific to canned food: they could be eaten only by court verdict, such as sprats with pearl barley cereals in tomato sauce. Sometimes there were podsa sweets, from the heat immediately stuck into a single sticky lump. But there was a trouble with vodka, for vodka I had to cut 60 miles to the city of Spassk.

The main sources of food here were a river and a forest. Fish and mushrooms-berries. Or the huntsmen of the living creatures will shoot. And for serious purchases - pasta or flour - if you want, you don’t want to go to Ryazan. Usually every two weeks they equipped the messenger on the local gazik, and made lists to whom to buy. But you won’t run into Ryazan, on such a road for almost three hours in one direction, and if in the fall, when they rained, then I had to pull the gazik with a mud tractor.

Once, in the company of men who went here to fishing, among whom was the father of Vovka Uncle Vitya, vodka suddenly ended. That is, they took, as always, a lot, with a margin, but either the mood suddenly happened, maybe something else, but until the end of fishing for three days, and only half a ghost remained. And this is for four.

It is clear that you need to go to Spassk, or even to Ryazan, but just in case they decided to look into the shop on the cordon just in case, as if they themselves did not know that there was no vodka who was spinning there.

Having hardly squeezed into a narrow space in front of the counter, the men began to turn their heads, although they knew the local abundance for a long time. Suddenly, Uncle Vitya poked his finger at the far corner, where terribly dirty bottles were guessed, which were usually filled with olifa.

- And what is it?

The saleswoman, Baba, I must say, in its usual state is unfriendly and gloomy, extremely suddenly perked up, pressed her hand to her heart and stared:

- Oh, the guys are dear, this is my destruction! They, these cursed bottles, got from my shift-torture, which I have been drilling with them for a year, but it doesn’t get less. I feel, and they will bury me with them, so no one will buy them. Is it a joke, eight core for a half -liter! Yes, we have no one here here! But it happens that here the rats are rumbling, but what if they break? Well, I will not cry forever. And what I just did not do! I wrote a letter to the trust, I bowed every inventory on the auditor at the legs: take it from me, I’m laughing at the whole area, everyone knows, and old and young, that Lyuska from the cordon in the store is 8 rubles for 12 kopecks in the store!

- So this is cognac, or what? - Could finally insert the word Uncle Vitya. - Why did you not tell us about him before?

“Why do you talk about him?” The sense? - Lyuska waved her hand, but then she carefully looked at the visitor, at his beautiful jeans Batnik Wrangler, for the big non -Russian hours of Orient - and in her eyes the crazy hope and the greed of a merchant. - We argue, you can't buy it?

Uncle Vitya calmly clicked the pearl button in his pocket, counted 8 rubles with a trifle and put it on the counter.

- Why can't I buy? He said, offended a little. - Here, hold! I’ll take one for a sample, I will like it - I'll come again!

Lyuska was dumbfounded for a second, but then instantly came to her senses, brushed her money into her robe pocket and immediately jumped on a stool with ease, which cried out suspiciously under her large body. Grabbing the bottle closest to her, she jumped with the same cat grace and handed the purchase to Vovkin's father.

The bottle was lit by flies so that it was not possible to discern the label. What kind of cognac, as it is called, Lyuska had no idea.

The bottle was brought to the river, they rubbed a sand for a long time until the label finally appeared. It depicted a jigit on a dashing horse, below the inscription: “Chechen-Ingushetia”, and the name is large at the top: “Vaines”. They decided to start a tasting immediately.

The men there were grated, the cognac tried different, the same Uncle Viti at home in the bar of a furniture set and Camus, and Martell.

But all of them, as one, were wildly delighted with this “Weinakh”. Never drink anything like that. Apparently, the extreme conditions in which this cognac was contained produced in it a fairly metamorphosis. In winter, he froze, heated in the summer, he was grabbed, shaken, dragged, cursing, from the corner to corner - and so many years in a row. And all this hardened him, strengthened and gave amazing properties. However, it often happens with a person.

Illustration: Anna Sarukhanova for TD

The men, as soon as they finished off the bottle, rushed into the store with a crowd, as if fearing that they were not enough for everyone, although they clearly did not have competition in this boundless territory.

When Lyuska realized that they were not joking with her, but they really took the whole box hanging over her with a Damoclam sword for so many years, and a bunch of money that she was handed over, no one was going to demand back, she suddenly burst into tears desperately.

- Children, dear! You saved me! Delivered this infection! Yes, for such revenue a record, maybe they will be discharged a bonus in the trust! I will remember you, dear you are mine!

She lovingly wiped all the bottles with a rag moistened in kerosene, admired them in the end and strongly said:

- I will now sell you bread. Come in the morning in the odd, while hot, three loafs are behind me.

This really meant to thank you in a kingdom. They brought bread to the cordon a little and sold only their own. And fishing without bread, as you know, is not fishing.

Pseudo -Orientologist and Korostel

In the 87th we arrived there on the last few days of August. In that year, I finally entered the first honey and decided to restore strength before the school year, blown up by passing exams after daily duty in intensive care.

By noon, on the 31th, we took away all the traces of our stay in the parking lot and moved to Moscow. Before Ryazan, a large bearded man in a storm - the jailer of the reserve asked to go with us. There was a place in the car, why not take it? The huntsman turned out to be a talkative man, dear told all sorts of stories about local life, I forgot almost all of them, but I remembered one well.

Once, at the very end of May, in the early morning, a motorcyclist rolled up to the director of the reserve and handed him a government telegram from Moscow, which had not yet been an awakened, really awakened, not waking up! Secret! Tomorrow an important American TCK will arrive at you on a visit tomorrow, meet the Tchk do not let down the PCO "

And the signature of the Minister of Agriculture.

The director of the reserve instantly woke up, climbed into the Gazik and rushed into the village of Izhevskoye, where there was the nearest telegraph. Lightning was immediately repulsed to the minister’s address: “I ask you to assist with the products of the Tchk store of empty PCK to meet the Tchk.”

Moscow reacted to the problem with understanding, and the next morning, a valuable cargo was brought to the reserve, accompanied by an authorized person from the capital, from some special science. Judging by the bearing and a gaze, the comrade was from a serious organization. It was he who explained that an American ornithologist was going to them.

For lack of the refrigerator, the products were first put on the glacier in the basement of one of the houses, and then solemnly transferred to the store and laid out on the shelves. The amazed residents of Cordon were represented by five kilos of oils, five kilos of cheese, several circles of Krakow sausage, ten packs of rafinad sugar, a dozen liver “jubilee”, half a block of cigarettes with the Pegasus filter and a couple of Alenka chocolate tiles.

People left the store like a museum, shaking their heads, shocked by this meeting with the beautiful. Never before they saw such abundance. It was not like some American, the very English queen was just right to meet.

The Commissioner from Moscow asked to gather everyone, went to the people and made a fiery speech:

- Comrades! In the yard, publicity and restructuring! The eyes of all mankind are now addressed to our country. I am counting on your consciousness, comrades! Do not let our country disgrace before America. Do not go to the store while the guests are here, do not crowd. Let them think that you have such a rich choice every day. Moreover, there is no opportunity to sell you the goods, the prices are not set for it, because everything passes under the article of representative costs.

People buzzed disappointedly.

- Calm, comrades! - not allowing folk indignation to flare up, the man from the center continued. - I give you the word of the communist: everything that remains after the American will be equally divided and issued without delay!

The affected people instantly calmed down.

- Moreover, comrades! - Deciding to finish on a solemn note, the Commissioner said. - I am instructed to inform you that all this will be released for you completely free!

Stormy applause was his answer.

The American arrived on a limousine with the diplomatic numbers of the US Embassy closer to dinner. Respect ornithologists in America! He was dressed like a safari, lanky, with a pipe in his mouth. Looking around with curiosity, he said something to his retinue. They laughed together. Then he transferred a few words with a translator. He said that James wants to look at the birds, it is very important to him. Yeah, of course, the ornithologist. And it was immediately decided to take him to the crane nursery.

There, the American spent some time, a little annoyed that the cranes are still small and have not yet been flying. As it turned out, it was very important for him to capture the bird in flight and make a mark in a special notebook.

Then he was shown bison in the pen. The American nodded respectfully, considering these representatives of the articulate detachment. Apparently, they symbolized for him the times of the Wild West, the caravans of immigrants, herds of bison, the raids of the Communications, and the gold of Mackens.

When they walked back, the director of the reserve invited the American to go to the store with a wide gesture. No wonder they prepared. And then, it was necessary to show that we still have something other than the wealth of nature. James kindly agreed. The locals immediately tensed, in the colors, imagining how the American stunned from such abundance would buy the whole Krakow sausage and jubilee cookies to hell, it will become from it. But to the great joy of the inhabitants of Cordon, he soon came out, and empty -handed. Although it was clear that under great impression. That's it, the citizen is good, we have no worse here than yours in Texas.

Illustration: Anna Sarukhanova for TD

Then James was decided to show the river bank. Там было и в самом деле красиво. На полдороге заморский гость вдруг разглядел в высокой траве коростеля. Тот шуршал, явно занятый какими-то своими делами. Увидев американца, коростель стал смешно крякать и косить на него глазом.

Американец встал как вкопанный, даже трубка вывалилась изо рта. Стараясь не дышать, он ткнул в сторону коростеля пальцем и негромко проговорил: «I want to see it!»

Переводчик вторично пояснил, что для Джеймса очень важно увидеть птицу в небе, а не на земле, чем немного озадачил всех. Дело в том, что коростель хоть и перелетная птица, но без нужды от земли отрываться не любит, бегая в зарослях. Было немного странно, что американский орнитолог не в курсе.

Но чего не сделаешь гостеприимства ради. Место в момент окружили полные решимости сотрудники заповедника. Неумолимо они сжимали кольцо, сопровождая свои действия хлопаньем и свистом, а бедный, ничего не понимающий коростель крутил головой, продолжая крякать с каждой секундой все тревожнее.

Наконец его все-таки вынудили оторваться от земли, и он, взмахнув крыльями, взлетел над прибрежным лугом.

Американец просиял, поставил галочку в своей тетради, быстренько попрощался и уехал.

Народ же ломанулся в магазин. Все начали приставать к продавщице, хотелось же узнать в подробностях, как именно восхитился американец при виде такого несусветного богатства. Но от Люськи толку было немного. Она стояла, несмотря на жару, в самой своей дорогой мохеровой кофте с большой брошью на внушительной груди и пребывала в состоянии полуобморочном, что нередко бывает с людьми при виде высокого начальства. «Отстаньте! Ничего не помню, ничего не знаю, все как в тумане. Зашел, улыбается, башкой крутит, лопочет-лопочет, а что, шут его разберет! Дайте хоть на улицу выйти, воздуха глотнуть».

А уполномоченный не обманул. Не успел лимузин американца скрыться за соснами, он дал отмашку — и тут же прекрасные продукты были по-братски разделены. Американца потом долгое время все вспоминали добрым словом. Хоть этот Джеймс вроде ничего и не купил в магазине, но при сдаче выручки Люська вдруг обнаружила монету в 25 центов — «квотер».

Вот бы удивился егерь, рассказавший нам это тогда, да и все участники той истории, если бы они знали, кого принимали в последних числах мая 87-го.

Странным орнитологом, не знающим повадок коростеля, был активный наблюдатель за птицами, член группы любителей дикой природы Birdwatching, а по совместительству бывший директор ЦРУ, бывший министр обороны США Джеймс Шлезингер. Прибыв в Москву для консультации по обеспечению безопасности помещений нового посольского комплекса, он, верный своему хобби, решил провести денек в каком-нибудь хорошем месте, где есть возможность посмотреть на редких птиц. Отказать ему не посмели.

Не знаю, оставила ли себе ту монету в четверть доллара продавщица Люська, но если да, то я за нее рад. Ведь с тех пор, несмотря на инфляцию, она лишь многократно выросла в цене.

Москва, июнь, 2020