Shukshin “A Mother’s Heart” – read online. "Mother's Heart"

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Vitka Borzenkov went to the market in the regional town, sold lard for one hundred and fifty rubles (he was going to get married, he desperately needed money) and went to a wine stall to “lubricate” a glass or two of red. A young girl came up and asked: “Let me light a cigarette.” “Hangover?” - Vitka asked directly. “Well,” the girl also answered simply. “And there’s no reason to have a hangover, right?” - "Do you have?" Vitka bought more. We drank. Both felt good. "Maybe some more?" - Vitka asked. “Not here. You can come to me." In Vitka’s chest, something like that—sweetly slippery—wagged its tail. The girl's house turned out to be clean - curtains, tablecloths on the tables. A girlfriend appeared. The wine was spilled. Vitka kissed the girl right at the table, and she seemed to push her away, but she clung to her and hugged her by the neck. Vitka doesn’t remember what happened next - how it was cut off. I woke up late in the evening under some fence. My head was buzzing and my mouth was dry. I searched my pockets - there was no money. And by the time he reached the bus station, he had accumulated so much anger at the city scoundrels, he hated them so much that even the pain in his head subsided. At the bus station, Vitka bought another bottle, drank it all straight from the neck and threw it into the park. “People can sit there,” they told him. Vitka took out his navy belt and wrapped it around his hand, leaving the heavy badge free. “Are there people in this lousy little town?” And a fight began. The police came running, Vitka foolishly hit one of them on the head with a plaque. The policeman fell... And he was taken to the bullpen.

Vitkin’s mother learned about the misfortune the next day from the local police officer. Vitka was her fifth son, she gave him the last of her strength, having received a funeral for her husband from the war, and he grew up strong, well-behaved, and kind. One problem: when he drinks, he becomes a fool. “What does he have to do with this now?” - "Jail. They can give me five years.” The mother rushed into the area. Having crossed the threshold of the police, the mother fell to her knees and began to wail: “You are my dear angels, but your reasonable little heads!.. Forgive him, the damned one!” “You get up, get up, this is not a church,” they told her. - Look at your son’s belt - you can kill him like that. Your son sent three people to the hospital. We have no right to let such people go.” - “Who should I go to now?” - “Go to the prosecutor.” The prosecutor began the conversation with her affectionately: “How many of you children grew up in your father’s family?” “Sixteen, father.” - "Here! And they obeyed their father. And why? He didn’t let anyone down, and everyone saw that he couldn’t do any harm. It’s the same in society - we’ll let one get away with it, others will start.” The mother only understood that this one also disliked her son. “Father, is there anyone taller than you?” - "Eat. And more. It is useless to contact them. No one will cancel the trial." - “At least allow me a meeting with my son.” - "It's possible".

With the paper issued by the prosecutor, the mother again went to the police. Everything in her eyes became foggy and blurred, she cried silently, wiping her tears with the ends of a handkerchief, but she walked quickly as usual. “Well, what about the prosecutor?” - the police asked her. “He told me to go to the regional organizations,” the mother lied. “And here we go for a date.” She handed over the paper. The police chief was a little surprised, and the mother, noticing this, thought: “Ah.” She felt better. During the night, Vitka became haggard and overgrown - it’s painful to watch. And the mother suddenly stopped understanding that there is a police, a court, a prosecutor, a prison in the world... Her child sat next to her, guilty, helpless. With her wise heart, she understood the despair oppressing her son’s soul. “Everything is ashes! My whole life has gone upside down!” - “It’s like you’ve already been convicted! - said the mother reproachfully. - Immediately - life is upside down. You are kind of weak... Would you at least first ask: where have I been, what have I achieved?” - “Where were you?” - “At the prosecutor’s place... Let him say, as long as he doesn’t worry, let him get all thoughts out of his head... We, they say, can’t do anything here ourselves, because we don’t have the right. And you, they say, don’t waste time, but sit down and go to the regional organizations... I’ll get home in a minute, and I’ll take a reference for you. And just pray in your mind. Nothing, you are baptized. We will come in from all sides. Most importantly, don’t think that everything is upside down now.”

The mother got up from the bunk, finely crossed her son and whispered with just her lips: “Christ save you.” She walked along the corridor and again saw nothing because of her tears. It was getting creepy. But the mother acted. Her thoughts were already in the village, wondering what she needed to do before leaving, what papers to take. She knew that stopping and falling into despair was death. Late in the evening she boarded the train and went. “Nothing, good people will help.” She believed that they would help.

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| collection site
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| Vasily Makarovich Shukshin
| Mother's heart
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Vitka Borzenkov went to the market in the regional town, sold lard for one hundred and fifty rubles (he was going to get married, desperately needed money), went to a wine stall to “lubricate” a glass or two of red. I missed a couple, went out, lit a cigarette... A young girl came up and asked:
- Let me light a cigarette.
Vitka let her light a cigarette from his cigarette, and he looked with interest at the girl’s face - young, swollen, fingers shaking...
- With a hangover? – Vitka asked directly.
“Well,” the drinker also answered simply and directly, taking a puff of Belomorina with pleasure.
“But there’s no reason to have a hangover,” Vitka began to develop his thought further, pleased that he knows how to understand people when they feel bad.
- Do you have?
(It would never have occurred to Vitka for any reason that the girl was specifically watching him when he was selling lard, and that she simply waylaid him at the stall.)
- Let's go get better. – Vitka liked the girl - pretty, slender... And her swelling and especially the frankness with which she admitted her inadequacy even somehow excited me.
They went into the stall... Vitka took a bottle of red, two glasses... They immediately, in the corner, crushed the bottle. Vitka drank a glass and a half and generously poured the rest to the girl. They went out onto the porch again and lit a cigarette. Vitka felt better, the girl also felt better. Both felt good.
- Do you live here?
“Right here, not far,” the girl nodded. - Thank you, it became easier.
– Did you hit it yesterday? – Vitka was easy and simple with the girl, amazing.
- It happened.
- Maybe you want more?
– Actually, you can... But not here.
- Where?
-Can you come to me, I have no one at home...
In Vitka’s chest, something like that—sweetly slippery—wagged its tail. It was still early, but it took an hour and a half by bus to get to Vitka’s village—you could do everything in time.
They took a bottle of white and a couple of bottles of red.
“I also have a girlfriend there,” the girl suggested when Vitka was wondering how much to take. That's why he took: one white and two red.
“We’ll overcome it with a snack,” he decided. - Is there anything to eat?
- We'll find it.
We left the market like old friends.
- Why did you come?
- I sold the lard. I need money - I'll get married.
- Yes?
- I'm getting married. Stop fussing. - It’s strange, Vitka didn’t even think that he was acting badly towards the bride - he was going somewhere with unknown girl, and he feels good with her, better than with his bride - more interesting.
- Good girl?
- How to say to you?..

My mother liked the prosecutor at first sight - he was attentive. I listened attentively to my mother, even though she spoke long and confusingly - that her son, Vitka, was good, kind, that he was sober and wouldn’t hurt a fly, that - how could she be left alone now? That the girl, the bride, will not wait for Vitka, that they will take such a girl with her arms and legs - a good girl. The prosecutor listened to everything attentively, finished playing with his fingers on the table... He spoke from afar, also somehow wisely:
“You’re a peasant girl; there were probably a lot of you growing up in the family?”
- Sixteen, father. Fourteen survived, two little ones died. Pavel died, and after him another boy was also named Pavel...
- Well, sixteen. In miniature - a whole society. At the head is the father. So?
- Yes, father, yes. They obeyed their father...
- Here! – the prosecutor took the mother at her word. - We obeyed! And why? One of them got into trouble - his father used a belt. And the brothers and sisters watch how their father teaches the mischief-maker, and think: should they be mischievous or not? This is how order was maintained in a large family. The only way. Father forgive one, forgive another - what's in the family? Collapse. I understand you, you feel sorry... If you want, I feel sorry too - there, of course, is not a resort, and he will go there, apparently, for more than one season. From a human perspective, everything is understandable, but there are considerations of a higher order, where we are powerless. They will judge. I don’t know how much they will give, the court decides. All.
The mother realized that this one also disliked her son. “They were offended for their own.”
- Father, is there anyone taller than you?
- Like this? – the prosecutor did not immediately understand.
– Are you the most important or is there someone higher than you?
The prosecutor, although he felt awkward later, laughed involuntarily:
- Yes, mother, yes. A lot of!
-Where are they?
“Well, where?..” the prosecutor became serious. – There are regional organizations... Do you want to go there? I do not advise.
“Kind people told me: it’s better to get me out now before I’m condemned, then it’ll be worse...
– Tell these kind people that they are not kind. From the outside they are kind... good-natured. Who recommended this?
- Who?.. People.
- Well, go ahead. You spend money and that’s it. The result will be the same. I’m telling you quite officially: they will judge you. We cannot help but judge, we have no right. And no one will cancel this trial.
The mother's heart sank painfully. But she was offended by the prosecutor, and therefore did not show that she was barely holding on so as not to crash here and howl out loud. Her legs were giving way.
- Let me at least have a date with him...
“It’s possible,” the prosecutor immediately agreed. – Did he have a lot of money, they say?
- Were…
The prosecutor wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to his mother.
- Go to the police.
The mother found her way to the police alone, without a long one - he was no longer there. I asked people. They showed it to her. In the mother’s eyes everything was foggy and swimming. She cried silently, wiped her tears with the end of a handkerchief, but walked quickly as usual, sometimes only stumbling over protruding boards of the sidewalk. But she walked and walked, in a hurry. Now, she understood, she had to hurry, she had to make it before he was sued. Otherwise it will be difficult to rescue him later. She would rescue her son, she believed in it, she believed it. All her life she did nothing but cope with grief, and everything was like this - on the go, quickly, wiping away her tears with the end of a handkerchief. She could have despaired for a long time, but the faith in good people who would help lived ineradicably in her. These - okay, these are offended for their own, their souls are hardened with anger, and those - who are further away - will help. Surely they won't help? She will tell them everything - they will help. It’s strange, the mother never thought about her son - that he had committed a crime, she knew one thing: a big misfortune had happened to her son. And who will rescue him from trouble if not his mother? Who? Lord, she will go on foot to these regional organizations, she will walk and walk day and night... She will find these good people, she will find them.
- Well? – the police chief asked her.
“He told me to go to the regional organizations,” the mother lied. - And here - for a date. – She handed over a piece of paper.
The boss was somewhat surprised, although he also tried not to show it. I read the note... His mother noticed that he was somewhat surprised. And I thought: “Ahh.” She felt a little better.
- Show me off, Melnikov.
Mother thought that she would have to walk far, for a long time, that they would open iron doors- She will see her son behind bars and will talk to him from below, rising on tiptoe... Her son was sitting right there, below, in the basement. There, in the corridor, short-haired men were playing dominoes... They stared at the mother and the policeman. Vitka was not among them.
“What, mother,” asked one big-faced man, “did you also spend fifteen days?”
We laughed.
“Egorov,” the tall policeman said sternly to the witty man, “at lunchtime, we’ll clean the office premises.”
Now they're laughing at the joke:
- Well, you got it!
- Vanya, if I advise you, cut off your tongue! - one advised. “Be patient once, but then you’ll live your whole life without grief.”
The policeman led the mother to the cell, of which there were three or four along the corridor, opened the door...
Vitka was alone in the cell, even though the cell was large and the bunks were wide. He was lying on the bunk. When the policeman entered, he did not get up, but when he saw his mother behind him, he jumped up.
“Ten minutes to talk,” the tall one warned. And he left.
The mother sat down on the bunk and hastily wiped her tears with a handkerchief.
“Look, it’s underground, but it’s dry and warm,” she said.
Vitka was silent, clasping his hands on his knees. I looked at the door. He became thinner overnight and grew taller—at once, as if on purpose. It was painful to look at him. He was shaking slightly, he tensed so that his mother would not even notice his shaking.
- Apparently the money was stolen? - asked the mother.
- It was stolen.
- Well, God, with a name and money, why would you start a fight over it? They don’t make money on us – we make money on them.
Under no circumstances would Vitka tell anyone how he was robbed - it’s a shame. Two whores... It's shameful, painfully embarrassing! And I also feel sorry for my mother. He knew that she would come to him, break through all the laws - he was waiting for this and was afraid.
The mother had something else in her soul at that moment: she suddenly completely ceased to understand that there was a police, a prosecutor, a court, a prison in the world... Her child was sitting nearby, guilty, helpless... And who could take him away from her now, when she - Only she, no one else - does he need?
– Don’t you know how much I love him?..
- No, it hit me flat... But he lies there and doesn’t get up.
- Of course, they did an examination. The ballot will be taken... - Vitka looked at his mother. - It will take seven years to finish it.
“Holy priests!..” The mother’s heart sank. - Why is it so much?
- The police... I would come to an agreement with these. If I had sold Sal again, they would have given it to them, and the matter would not have come to court.
- What about the police? Not people, right?

With the paper issued by the prosecutor, the mother again went to the police. Everything in her eyes became foggy and blurred, she cried silently, wiping her tears with the ends of a handkerchief, but she walked quickly as usual. “Well, what about the prosecutor?” - the police asked her. “He told me to go to the regional organizations,” the mother lied. “And here we go for a date.” She handed over the paper. The police chief was a little surprised, and the mother, noticing this, thought: “Ah.” She felt better. During the night, Vitka became haggard and overgrown - it’s painful to watch. And the mother suddenly stopped understanding that there is a police, a court, a prosecutor, a prison in the world... Her child sat next to her, guilty, helpless. With her wise heart, she understood the despair oppressing her son’s soul. “Everything is ashes! My whole life has gone upside down!” - “It’s like you’ve already been convicted! - said the mother reproachfully. - Immediately - life is upside down. You’re kind of weak... Would you at least first ask: where have I been, what have I achieved?” - “Where were you?” - “At the prosecutor’s place... Let him say, as long as he doesn’t worry, let him get all thoughts out of his head... We, they say, can’t do anything here ourselves, because we don’t have the right. And you, they say, don’t waste time, but sit down and go to the regional organizations... In a minute, I’ll get home, I’ll take a reference about you. And just pray in your mind. Nothing, you are baptized. We will come in from all sides. Most importantly, don’t think that everything is upside down now.”

- Let me light a cigarette.

Vitka let her light a cigarette from his cigarette, and he looked with interest at the girl’s face - young, swollen, fingers shaking...

- With a hangover? – Vitka asked directly.

“Well,” the drinker also answered simply and directly, taking a puff of Belomorina with pleasure.

- Do you have?

(It would never have occurred to Vitka for any reason that the girl was specifically watching him when he was selling lard, and that she simply waylaid him at the stall.)

- Let's go get better. – Vitka liked the girl - pretty, slender... And her swelling and especially the frankness with which she admitted her inadequacy even somehow excited me.

They went into the stall... Vitka took a bottle of red, two glasses... They immediately, in the corner, crushed the bottle. Vitka drank a glass and a half and generously poured the rest to the girl. They went out onto the porch again and lit a cigarette. Vitka felt better, the girl also felt better. Both felt good.

- Do you live here?

“Right here, not far,” the girl nodded. - Thank you, it became easier.

– Did you hit it yesterday? – Vitka was easy and simple with the girl, amazing.

- It happened.

- Maybe you want more?

– Actually, you can... But not here.

- Where?

-Can you come to me, I have no one at home...

In Vitka’s chest, something like that—sweetly slippery—wagged its tail. It was still early, but it took an hour and a half by bus to get to Vitka’s village—you could do everything in time.

They took a bottle of white and a couple of bottles of red.

“I also have a girlfriend there,” the girl suggested when Vitka was wondering how much to take. That's why he took: one white and two red.

“We’ll overcome it with a snack,” he decided. - Is there anything to eat?

- We'll find it.

We left the market like old friends.

- Why did you come?

- I sold the lard. I need money - I'll get married.

- I'm getting married. Stop fussing. “It’s strange, Vitka didn’t even think that he was doing something wrong in relation to the bride - he goes somewhere with an unfamiliar girl, and he feels good with her, better than with the bride - more interesting.”

- Good girl?

- How can I tell you?.. Domovitaya. The hostess will be good.

-What about love?

“How can I tell you?.. There’s no such thing as it used to be,” something like that was washed away with boiling water here. So... You have to get married someday.

- Don't miss. You will be later... Not tied, but you will squeal.

- Yes, I’ve become too bad for my life - that’s enough.

In general, we talked in this spirit and came to the girl’s house. (Her name was Rita.) Vitka didn’t even notice how they got there and how they walked – which alleys. The house is just like a house - old, dark, but it will still stand for seventy years and will not die.

The room (there are three of them) is clean, there are curtains, tablecloths on the tables - it’s cozy. Vitka completely perked up.

“Chic-glitter-tru-la-la,” he always thought when life promised quick joy.

-Where is your girlfriend?

- I'll go get her now. Will you sit?

- I'll sit. Just hurry up, okay?

– Turn on the radio so you don’t get bored. I quickly.

Why is it so easy and good for Vitka with this girl? Five minutes are familiar, and... Well, life! The girl has sad, thoughtful, intelligent eyes. When she smiles, her eyes do not smile, and this gives her round face an inexplicable charm - a small, tired woman. Vitka suddenly feels sorry for the girl, then painfully wants to squeeze her in his arms, crush her, bite her swollen, wet lips.

Rita left. Vitka began to walk around the room, but did not turn on the radio: without the radio, his heart swelled in joyful anticipation.

Then Vitka remembers: Rita’s friend came - worse, older, shabby and pretending. She started chattering right away and began to tell me that she had once been in the circus: “she worked rubber.” Then they drank... Vitka kissed Rita right there at the table, her friend laughed approvingly, and Rita weakly hit Vitka on the shoulder with her hand, as if pushing her away, while she clung to her tight chest and hugged her neck with her other hand.

“This is life! - tossed and turned in hot head Vitki. “Here it is—a seething, desirable infection. Well done!”

Then Vitka doesn’t remember anything - how he was cut off. I woke up late in the evening under some fence... For a long time and painfully I wondered where he was, what had happened. My head was throbbing, my temples were falling out from the pain. Everything in my mouth was dry and caked. Somehow he remembered the girl Rita, her lips were soft, obedient... And he realized: they had drugged him with something, drugged him and, of course, took the money. The thought of money really shook me up. He stood up with difficulty and rummaged through his pockets: yes, there was no money. Vitka leaned against the fence, looked around... No, there was nothing like Rita’s house nearby. Everything is different, completely different houses.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, “I’ll fix it for you... I’ll fix it for you too.”

He didn’t know what he was going to do, he only knew that it wouldn’t end well.

Near the bus station, a stall was open until late, and there was always a crowd of people there. Vitka took a bottle of red wine, poured it straight from the neck, threw the bottle all the way to the bottom into the little park... Some drunken men, three of them, said to him:

“People can sit there.”

Vitka unfastened his naval belt, wrapped the end around his hand, leaving the heavy badge free, like a flail. These three turned up at the right time.

- Well?! – Vitka was surprised. - Are they really people? Are there people in this lousy little town?

The three looked at each other.

-Who do you think is here?

Three went at him, Vitka went at three... One immediately fell down from a blow to the head with a plaque, two tried to reach Vitka with their feet or hands, taking care of their heads. Then they shouted:

- They're beating our people!

Another five people swooped in... The plaque began to play, softly and dully plopped into the bodies. Two or three more fell... Vitka was also hit: someone hit him on the head with a bottle from behind, but casually - Vitka resisted. His offended soul rejoiced and found lasting peace.

The attackers swore, crowded around stupidly, interfered with each other, advised - Vitka took advantage of this and beat.

– Did they work rubber?! - he yelled. – Did you work in the circus?!

The police came running... They all drove Vitka into a corner - between the stall and the fence. Vitka waved it off. The policemen were allowed forward, and Vitka foolishly hit one on the head with a badge. Vitkin's badge is also scary because inside, in its curvature, lead was poured. The policeman fell... Everyone gasped and was dumbfounded. Vitka realized that something irreparable had happened, threw the belt... Vitka was taken to the bullpen.

Vitkin's mother learned about the misfortune the next day. In the morning the local police officer called her and told her that Vitka had done such and such in the city.

- Holy Fathers! - the mother was scared. - What does he have to do with this now?

- Jail. Prison is sure. The policeman has a serious injury and is in the hospital. For such things - only prison. They can give me five years. Has he gone crazy, or what?

“Father, my Lord’s angel,” the mother begged, “help me somehow!”

- What are you talking about! How can I help you?..

- Yes, he drank, he must have been drunk...

- I can’t do anything, you understand! He's in the bullpen, they've probably already opened a case against him.

- Who could help?

- Nobody. Who?.. Well, go to the police, find out at least the details. But there too... What can they do there?

Vitkina’s mother, dry, strong-willed, and light on her feet, rushed around the village. I ran to the chairman of the village council - he also threw up his hands:

- How can I help you? Well, I can write a description... I’ll probably have to write it anyway. Well, I'll write a good one.

- Write, write as best as you can, you clever little head of ours. Write that because he’s drunk, he’s tough and wouldn’t hurt a fly...

“They won’t ask whether he was drunk or not.” He mutilated a policeman... You tell me this: go see that policeman, maybe he didn’t hurt him that bad. Although it’s unlikely...

“Thank you so much, you’re our andel, thank you so much.”

- You're welcome.

Vitkina’s mother rushed to the area. Vitka’s mother gave birth to five children, remained a widow at an early age (Vitka was still an infant when the funeral for his father came in 1942), her eldest son also died in the war in 1945, the girl died of exhaustion in 1946, the next two sons They survived; as boys, fleeing the great famine, they were recruited into the military training camp and now lived in different cities. Vitka’s mother was exhausted, she sold everything, she was left poor, but she gave birth to her son - he grew up strong, well-behaved, kind... Everything would be fine, but when he’s drunk, he becomes a fool. He took after his father - he, may he rest in heaven, never missed a single fight in the village.

The mother came to the police when they were discussing yesterday’s incident at the bus station. Vitka gave the policeman a great treat: he was indeed in the hospital and was very weak. Two more drunks were also in the hospital - also from Vitka’s terrible plaque.

They looked at the plaque with interest.

- I came up with it, you bastard!.. Guess what: a belt and a belt. And he has a whole weight here. It's good that I haven't hit him on the edge yet.

And then Vitka’s mother came in... And, having crossed the threshold, she fell to her knees and howled and wailed:

- Yes, you are my dear and intelligent little heads!.. Yes, you can somehow deal with your offense - forgive him, the damned one! He was drunk... He's a tough guy, he'll give away his last shirt, he's a tough guy who never offended anyone...

The elder one spoke up, sitting at the table and holding Vitka’s belt in his hands. He spoke in detail, calmly, and simply, so that the mother would understand everything.

- Just wait, mother. You get up, get up - this is not a church. Go take a look...

The mother stood up, slightly calmed by the benevolent tone of the commanding voice.

- Look: your son’s belt... Did he serve in the navy or something?

- In the navy, in the navy - on these ships...

– Now look: do you see? - The chief turned the plaque over and weighed it in his hand: - Killing a person with this is twice two. If he hit someone on the edge with this thing yesterday, it would be the end. Murder. Yes, and three people left flat, so that now doctors are fighting for their lives. And you say - forgive. After all, he really made three people, one might say, disabled. And one - during execution official duties. Think for yourself: how can you forgive for such things, really?

A mother’s heart is wise, but where trouble looms for her own child, the mother is not able to perceive outside intelligence, and logic has nothing to do with it.

- Yes, you are my dear sons! - the mother exclaimed and began to cry. - Yes, nothing happens because of drunkenness?! Yes, anything can happen - we got into a fight... Take pity on him!..

It was hard to look at my mother. There was so much melancholy and grief, so much despair in her voice that the stranger felt uneasy. And although the police are a seasoned people, pitifully reluctant, even they – some turned away, some began to light a cigarette.

- I have only one - with me: both my drinker and breadwinner. But Isho has decided to get married - what will he do with the girl if he is imprisoned? Will he really wait for him? It won't. But the girl is kind, from a good family, it’s a pity...

– Why did he come to the city? - asked the boss.

- Sell sala. To the market to sell some salsa. You need money, since you have already planned a wedding - where can you get more of it?

“He didn’t have any money with him.”

- Holy Fathers! - the mother was scared. - Where are they?

- You need to ask him that.

- Yes, they stole it! They stole it!.. Yes, you dear son, that’s why he apparently got into a fight - they stole them from him! The crooks stole...

- The swindlers stole it, but what does our employee have to do with it - why did he give it to him?

- Yes, apparently I got under hot hand…

- Well, if we fall under the hot hand like this every time, we will soon have no police left. They are too hot, your sons! – The boss became firm. - There will be no forgiveness for this, he will get his due - according to the law.

“Yes, you are my angels, good people,” the mother begged again, “at least take pity on me, an old woman, I’ve only just now seen the light a little... He’s a hard-working guy, but if he got married, he’d be a completely capable man.” I wish I could at least babysit my grandchildren...

“It’s not even about us, mother, you understand.” There is a prosecutor! Well, we released him, but they will ask us: on what grounds? We have no right. We don’t even have that right. I won’t sit down instead of him.

- Or maybe we can somehow appease that policeman? I have canvas, I’ve woven some canvas now - the abyss! I prepared everything for them...

- He won’t take anything from you, he won’t! – the boss was already shouting. – Don’t put people in a funny position, really. This is not a fight between godfather and godfather, this is an attempt on organs!

“Where should I go now, sons?” Is there anyone higher than you or not?

“Let him go to the prosecutor,” advised one of those present.

“Melnikov, take her to the prosecutor,” the boss ordered. And again he turned to his mother, and again began to talk to her as if she were deaf or completely stupid: - Go to the prosecutor - he is taller than us! And he already has the matter. And let him explain to you there: can we do something or not? No one is deceiving you, understand!

The mother went with the policeman to the prosecutor. On the way, she tried to talk to policeman Melnikov:

- Son, did he hurt him really bad?

Policeman Melnikov was thoughtfully silent.

- How much will they give him if they start judging him?

The policeman walked widely. He was silent.

The mother minced nearby and kept trying to get the tall man to talk, looking into his face.

- Explain it to me, son, don’t be silent... You probably have a mother too, I feel sorry for you, so sorry that I’m saying this - but every word gives away in my heart. Will they give you much?

Policeman Melnikov answered vaguely:

- That’s when they decorate the graves - they put up fences, posts, put wreaths... What is this - the dead need it? We need this alive. The dead don't care anymore.

The mother was overcome with such horror that she stopped.

-What are you talking about?

- Went. What I mean is that, of course, they will judge. They could, of course, forgive him - he was drunk, money was stolen - he offended a person. But they will still judge - so that others know. It is important to teach others by this example. He raised his hand to a representative of the authorities - that’s...

- Yes, you said it yourself - he was drunk!

“That doesn’t count now.” Now another setting. Nobody forced him to drink; he got drunk himself. And it will be instructive for others. He doesn’t care now to sit, and others will think about it. Otherwise you will never be re-educated.

The mother realized that this long man was hostile to her son and fell silent.

Lyudmila Zykina. Dedication to Shukshin

“You’re a peasant girl; there were probably a lot of you growing up in the family?”

- Sixteen, father. Fourteen survived, two little ones died. Pavel died, and after him another boy was also named Pavel...

- Well, sixteen. In miniature - a whole society. At the head is the father. So?

- Yes, father, yes. They obeyed their father...

- Here! – the prosecutor took the mother at her word. - We obeyed! And why? One of them got into trouble - his father used a belt. And the brothers and sisters watch how their father teaches the mischief-maker, and think: should they be mischievous or not? This is how order was maintained in a large family. The only way. Father forgive one, forgive another - what's in the family? Collapse. I understand you, you feel sorry... If you want, I feel sorry too - there, of course, is not a resort, and he will go there, apparently, for more than one season. From a human perspective, everything is understandable, but there are considerations of a higher order, where we are powerless. They will judge. I don’t know how much they will give, the court decides. All.

The mother realized that this one also disliked her son. “They were offended for their own.”

- Father, is there anyone taller than you?

- Like this? – the prosecutor did not immediately understand.

– Are you the most important or is there someone higher than you?

The prosecutor, although he felt awkward later, laughed involuntarily:

- Yes, mother, yes. A lot of!

-Where are they?

“Well, where?..” the prosecutor became serious. – There are regional organizations... Do you want to go there? I do not advise.

“Kind people told me: it’s better to get me out now before I’m condemned, then it’ll be worse...

– Tell these kind people that they are not kind. From the outside they are kind... good-natured. Who recommended this?

- Who?.. People.

- Well, go ahead. You spend money and that’s it. The result will be the same. I’m telling you quite officially: they will judge you. We cannot help but judge, we have no right. And no one will cancel this trial.

The mother's heart sank painfully. But she was offended by the prosecutor, and therefore did not show that she was barely holding on so as not to crash here and howl out loud. Her legs were giving way.

- Let me at least have a date with him...

“It’s possible,” the prosecutor immediately agreed. – Did he have a lot of money, they say?

The prosecutor wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to his mother.

- Go to the police.

The mother found her way to the police alone, without a long one - he was no longer there. I asked people. They showed it to her. In the mother’s eyes everything was foggy and swimming. She cried silently, wiped her tears with the end of a handkerchief, but walked quickly as usual, sometimes only stumbling over protruding boards of the sidewalk. But she walked and walked, in a hurry. Now, she understood, she had to hurry, she had to make it before he was sued. Otherwise it will be difficult to rescue him later. She would rescue her son, she believed in it, she believed it. All her life she did nothing but cope with grief, and everything was like this - on the go, quickly, wiping away her tears with the end of a handkerchief. She could have despaired for a long time, but the faith in good people who would help lived ineradicably in her. These - okay, these are offended for their own, their souls are hardened with anger, and those - who are further away - will help. Surely they won't help? She will tell them everything - they will help. It’s strange, the mother never thought about her son - that he had committed a crime, she knew one thing: a big misfortune had happened to her son. And who will rescue him from trouble if not his mother? Who? Lord, she will go on foot to these regional organizations, she will walk and walk day and night... She will find these good people, she will find them.

- Well? – the police chief asked her.

“He told me to go to the regional organizations,” the mother lied. - And here - for a date. – She handed over a piece of paper.

The boss was somewhat surprised, although he also tried not to show it. I read the note... His mother noticed that he was somewhat surprised. And I thought: “Ahh.” She felt a little better.

- Show me off, Melnikov.

The mother thought that she would have to walk far, for a long time, that the iron doors would open - she would see her son behind bars and would talk to him from below, rising on tiptoe... Her son was sitting right there, below, in the basement. There, in the corridor, short-haired men were playing dominoes... They stared at the mother and the policeman. Vitka was not among them.

“What, mother,” asked one big-faced man, “did you also spend fifteen days?”

We laughed.

“Egorov,” the tall policeman said sternly to the witty man, “at lunchtime, we’ll clean the office premises.”

Now they're laughing at the joke:

- Well, you got it!

- Vanya, if I advise you, cut off your tongue! - one advised. “Be patient once, but then you’ll live your whole life without grief.”

The policeman led the mother to the cell, of which there were three or four along the corridor, opened the door...

Vitka was alone in the cell, even though the cell was large and the bunks were wide. He was lying on the bunk. When the policeman entered, he did not get up, but when he saw his mother behind him, he jumped up.

“Ten minutes to talk,” the tall one warned. And he left.

The mother sat down on the bunk and hastily wiped her tears with a handkerchief.

“Look, it’s underground, but it’s dry and warm,” she said.

Vitka was silent, clasping his hands on his knees. I looked at the door. He became thinner overnight and grew taller—at once, as if on purpose. It was painful to look at him. He was shaking slightly, he tensed so that his mother would not even notice his shaking.

- Apparently the money was stolen? - asked the mother.

- It was stolen.

- Well, God, with a name and money, why would you start a fight over it? They don’t make money on us – we make money on them.

Under no circumstances would Vitka tell anyone how he was robbed - it’s a shame. Two whores... It's shameful, painfully embarrassing! And I also feel sorry for my mother. He knew that she would come to him, break through all the laws - he was waiting for this and was afraid.

The mother had something else in her soul at that moment: she suddenly completely ceased to understand that there was a police, a prosecutor, a court, a prison in the world... Her child was sitting nearby, guilty, helpless... And who could take him away from her now, when she - Only she, no one else - does he need?

– Don’t you know how much I love him?..

- No, it hit me flat... But he lies there and doesn’t get up.

- Of course, they did an examination. The ballot will be taken... - Vitka looked at his mother. - It will take seven years to finish it.

“Holy priests!..” The mother’s heart sank. - Why is it so much?

- The police... I would come to an agreement with these. If I had sold Sal again, they would have given it to them, and the matter would not have come to court.

- What about the police? Not people, right?

“Here, if he doesn’t even want to, they’ll give it to him.” Seven years!.. – Vitka jumped up from his bunk and walked around the cell. - Everything is ashes! Everything, all life is upside down!

The mother, with her wise heart, understood what force oppresses the soul of her child: that same huge, caustic force - despair, which dislocates the soul, forces it to take up a rope or a razor. An evil, powerful force...

- It’s as if you’ve been condemned! - she said reproachfully. - Immediately - life is upside down.

– What are we waiting for here? Everything is known.

- Look, everything is already known! You should at least ask first: where have I been, what have I achieved?..

-Where were you? – Vitka stopped.

- The prosecutor had it.

- Well? And what is he?

- Well, ask first: what is he doing? And then immediately - head over heels! You are kind of weak... Isho nothing, let alone... God knows what thoughts.

- Why the prosecutor?

“Otherwise... Let him say, as long as he doesn’t worry, let him throw all thoughts out of his head... We, they say, can’t do anything here ourselves, because we are our people, we don’t have the right.” And you, they say, don’t waste time, but sit down and go to the regional organizations. They say they will order us from there, we will let him go willy-nilly. Tada, he says, we won’t be ashamed even in front of our own people: they wanted to condemn them, but they couldn’t. They've already thought about everything here. I, he says, feel sorry for him myself... But we, he says, are small people. Go, they say, to the regional organizations, explain everything in detail there... How much money did you have?

- Fifteen hundred.

- Holy Fathers! Hands warmed up.

A long policeman looked in the door.

- Stop it.

“Wait, wait,” the mother hurried. - We've already discussed everything. In a minute, then, I’ll get home, Mishka Bychkov will write a character report on you... I’ll write a good one, he says.

- There... this... I have all sorts of certificates in my suitcase from the service... take them just in case.

- What certificates?

- Well, you'll see there. Maybe it will help.

- I'll take it. Then I’ll go to the office and take the characteristics too... I won’t go with my bare hands. Maybe Sergeevna wanted to take the canvas from me to sell?

- Yes, I should take some money with me - maybe I’ll have to appease someone?

– Don’t, you’ll only make things worse.

- Well, I'll take a look there.

The policeman looked in the door again.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” the mother hurried again. And when the door closed, she took out a cookie and an egg from her bosom. - Come on, eat... Don’t think too much - don’t go head over heels. Good people will help. Big bosses are better, they are not afraid. These are afraid, but those have no one to fear - they are their own masters. And I will reach them. And you brace yourself and think about something - about Verka, you want... Verka was also very twisted. Just popped in - and she’d already heard...

- He's grieving.

Vitka’s chest didn’t feel warm because the bride was grieving. Somehow it didn’t get warmer.

“And here’s what…” Mother whispered: “Take it and pray in your mind.” Say: Lord Father, Heavenly Father, help me! Think about it, think about it - ask. Nothing, you are baptized. We will come in from all sides. And I’ll leave the house early - before the train - and run and light a candle for Nikola the Pleasant, and ask him too. It’s okay, they’ll have mercy. I’ll take the funeral from my father...

– Don’t tell your brothers... this... just yet.

– I won’t, I won’t – who will they do? They will only disturb your soul once again. Most importantly, don’t think that everything is upside down now. And if they do give it, it’ll be a year or so – just to divert attention. Not seven years! And those who are given a year, you see, they leave in six months. They do a good job there, they are released earlier. Or maybe they won’t give it even a year.

The policeman entered the cell and never came out.

- Time, time...

- Let's go. “The mother stood up from the bunk, turned her back to the policeman, finely crossed her son and whispered with just her lips:

- Christ save you.

And she left the cell. And she walked along the corridor, and again saw nothing because of her tears. I feel sorry for my son Vitka, oh, I feel sorry for him. When they are sick, children, you also feel sorry for them, but there is some kind of special pity - when like this, here - you ask people to help, but they turn away and don’t look you in the eye. And at times it becomes creepy... But the mother acted. Her thoughts were already in the village, wondering who she needed to reach before leaving, what papers to take. And that ineradicable faith that good people would help her led her and led her, her mother did not hesitate anywhere, did not stop to cry to her heart’s content, to also fall into despair - this was death, she knew. She acted.

At about three in the afternoon, the mother left the village again - to the regional organizations.

“Lord, help me, father,” she repeated in her mind continuously. - Help, Lord, your servant Anna. Don’t let your son have bad thoughts, bring him to his senses. He is a little alarmed - as if he had not done something to himself. Help me, Lord! Strengthen us!

Late in the evening she boarded the train and went. Regional organizations are ahead. It didn't frighten her.

“Nothing, good people will help.”

She believed they would help.

"Mother's Heart"
I
Since childhood we remember the words that the closest and
dear person - mother. Only she will understand and forgive
your child, will advise and kind words, and skillful
with my hands, or maybe he’ll just smile at his “mama”
a new smile, and your heart will become warmer. And there is no dearer
person on earth.
I want to tell you the story of one mother
love, just remember: “Judge not, lest
we will" This is what the Bible says, but we each have
their own Book of Life, and the pages rustle - they carry -
For years now, no one knows where to put the end, but we write
sometimes exclamation marks, sometimes question marks, and other
where is the ellipsis...
It was an autumn night, thunder roared, lightning flashed,
The rain was pounding on the windows. In a small town there is light
There were lights in the windows of the houses, but gradually they too darkened.
The lights did not go out in the three-story building brick house. There
a miracle happened - new people were born,
famous people: boys and girls. It's joyful under the windows
their faithful shouted.
“Luda! Luda! It's me. Show me the baby!”
“Vita, Vitusya, where is our daughter, pick her up and show her?”
live in the window"
Lyuda's second son was born. And Vitusya had it
first child, a girl was born, and her husband Alexey
I really wanted a son, my heir. First Luda and
Vita just laughed, what would happen if we changed children?
mi. Gradually this thought took possession of them and did not seem
so scary. But really, what would be bad if
2

Slavik will have a sister. He will protect her from
boys, take care of, help mom. Of course, because
he is now an older brother.
And so, one stormy night, two women
we snuck into the “nursery” and swapped places
lyshey. Discharge was scheduled for the morning. For Luda
happy Petya and Slavik arrived. In snow-white
lace, with pink ribbons handed over by the nurse
little daughter to the young father. Peter kissed his wife and took
daughter, raised the corner and said contentedly: “My
blood, dark."
They got into the car and drove away.
An hour later Alyosha arrived for Vita and his little son. He
carefully placed it on his son’s hand and handed the flowers to honey
sister, who came out to see off the young parents.
Alexey ordered a taxi in advance, and now it was waiting for them.
Lo, the yellow light was on.
That's how it all happened. Two women voluntarily
exchanged children, and no one forced them, did not persuade them
val, they just decided that it would be better for everyone: each
The one will receive a favorite child of the desired gender. Surely
No, this issue is not for us to decide. Birth of a child
ka is a sacrament, and who is born, we will find out after the first
th cry of a newborn. This is a gift from above, we are
we call it “God-given child”, and we love our child painfully-
greater than anyone else in the world, larger than life.
But these two women violated the law of life, fathers
and children, they were deliberately violated and they will not see peace.
The call of blood is stronger than reason, and chance builds
there are rows, and we move forward and down along them, but
we pay very dearly for our freedom or non-
free mistakes.
3

Well, let's follow Vita and Alyosha. Through me-
After a November morning, the small family came out
then went for a walk with little Kiryusha and disappeared. How
Then it turned out that they had gone to another city, but which one?
No one knew. Lyuda and Petya raised Slavik and the baby
Karinochka. Luda loved the girl very much, but suddenly she was caught...
I began to think that he was dressing her like a boy in all his
blue, light, but not pink or red. Hair-
Her black hair was cut very short by her mother Luda. One day
Well, looking at my daughter, the thought crawled like a snake, how is my
son, who does he look like, me or Petya. She told her husband
didn’t say anything, convinced that the nurse who reported
talked about the birth of a son, confused her with another woman in labor.
Peter believed. The baby grew up, played with toys,
dolls, cars, built houses. Slavik played with
sister in free time from lessons. Walked in the yard
protected from the boys. Luda adored Slavik, her
firstborn, she allowed him everything, did not refuse him any
request, no matter how crazy it is. And Kari-
she was her daddy's girl, that's what everyone said. So
children poured out for her: my son, and my husband’s daughter.
Once in a dream, Lyuda saw her grown-up son, she
I just found out that Vita named him Kirill, in honor
my father.
He stretched out his hands to her and prayed, “Mom, mom, where
You?" Luda woke up in a cold sweat. Only now
years later she suddenly realized what she had done. Field
to beat her daughter the way she loved her son, without giving her something -
lo, as if something was holding it, not letting it dissolve
in love for my daughter.
And Luda decided to find her son Kirill. Let's go
at the address where Vita lived, but the neighbors told her that
It's been five years since this strange family disappeared.
4

- How did you disappear? – exclaimed Lyudmila. - And where to
they left?
But the answer was silence.
Instantly aged, with tears in her eyes, she came
Lyudmila went home, found a small icon and began to
pour. She thought only fans pray like that or
very religious, almost holy people. From where only
took words to the Lord, asked forgiveness for his
mortar There is no greater torture than when a person burns
himself from the inside, destroys his “I”, lowers his shoulders,
bowing his head, lowering his faded, tear-stained eyes,
lit about forgiveness. Luda flagellated herself with memories
about that baby she held in her arms those not-
how many days. Lyudmila couldn’t tell anyone about this.
mu. This was her secret, her ashes. And there was no one there
no roads, no paths for anyone...
II
In the city of M., a family settled in a nine-story building.
They had two sons. One's name was Kirill, but at home
They called me Kiryusha, Kiryushechka, son. He grew up healthy
As an obedient boy, your parents don’t bother you,
put. School years flew by like spring rains
di, left the warmth of those days in my heart. Mom Vita and
Alyosha's dad couldn't be happier with his son. With every
over the years he became more and more like Alyosha, but not
face, but character. When Kiryusha turned seven
years old, his brother Denis was born. Kiryusha cared-
talking about my brother, laying out diapers for him to bathe,
could dress my mother, feed my brother One day, he
fed him vitamins so that Deniska would grow faster,
oh, he got it then! Kirill silently wiped away his
5

Threat, not understanding what he did wrong, because he is so loving
bit the baby and wants the best for him.
“Mom, I won’t do it again, forgive me,” said Ki-
Rill.
Mom hugged him, kissed him and asked him so painfully -
Don't do it anymore. Kirill suddenly remembered this incident from
childhood and smiled.
Alexey worked as a doctor and, naturally, Kirill
entered medical school. He's still little
treated all the neighbors' cats and dogs, and his
xo it worked. He took recipes from literature, from en-
cyclopedia.
Vita was a good mother to both sons. Foreign
when she remembered that autumn night, the baby in her hand
how and how he and Luda changed the tags on their hands
and children's legs. At such moments she wanted to see
daughter, but the fear of exposure made her not even breathe
mother about it. Expecting her second child, Vita hoped
that a miracle will happen and she will have a girl, but...
The cry and words of the midwife through a veil of tears and pain:
"Who's at home with you?"
- My son, he’s seven years old, really wants a little sister, so who
I have it, show me.
- Yes, you have one more son, but come for your daughter
again.
This is how Deniska came into Vita’s life. As if "blue-
"of blood" - white-skinned, with blue eyes.
Kirill completed an internship in the cardiology department
gia, in the regional hospital. The hospital was equipped with
the latest equipment and from all small towns and
Sick people came to villages for diagnosis and treatment.
6

So, Kirill Alekseevich put on a snow-white robe,
a kidney on his head, changed his shoes to soft and silent ones,
took medical records and headed to the women's ward.
Making his morning rounds, he approached each patient,
sat down on the edge of the bed and talked with
pre-study. More precisely, he listened to them, was interested in themselves
feeling in the morning. He wrote Latin in a clear hand
signs, explained to the nurse the purpose of this or that
sick. It was the usual morning rounds.
III
A woman was lying on the bed by the window. She was brought to
“emergency” at night, took the necessary tests and did
or injections: painkillers and sedatives. Called
her Lyudmila, they brought her from the town of S., they suspected
that she had a micro-infarction, but it would be more accurate to answer
Only a doctor could answer this question. So she slept until
bypass. Lyudmila told her roommate about herself,
that she has two children: Slavik has already graduated from construction
institute and works in one company as the main specialist
cialist in the construction and design of new
houses. The son lived separately, but was not married. Luda, how
mother, of course, was very worried about this personal question, but
No matter how much she tried to find out anything, she pushed
on the wall or jokes from an adult son,
young man. Of course he had friends
girls, he communicated with them, but none of them affected
vala his heart. Sometimes, hugging his mother and kissing her, he
laughed: “I’ll find someone like our Karinochka, beautiful
I'm good and kind, and I'll get married, but for now, mother, you'll have to
wait with the grandchildren." Luda felt a pain from these words
heart, but she was silent.
7

Daughter Karinochka grew up to be a kind, affectionate girl.
coy. She studied well and entered after graduation
schools in pedagogical institute, to the Faculty of Pre-
school and primary school education. Learn-
she liked her, she was very sociable, she had
there were many girlfriends and friends. But there was no beloved. All
these years she was very friendly with her brother, during
She consulted him on everything, but he simply spoiled her. First-
la toys, then clothes, books.
Petya, Lyuda’s husband, also loved his children very much. IN
in general, it was a family of thousands, but it happened
grief, and the world for Luda split into parts: before and after
after the death of her husband. Petya loved fishing, especially
ice fishing Last winter my husband got ready on Saturday
fishing, his friend Vasily came to pick him up at eight in the morning.
Luda, as usual, prepared breakfast and collected food.
ducts for Petya, but somehow she felt uneasy
soul. Then, remembering that morning, some
new details, words. Somehow very affectionately and tenderly-
but Petya said goodbye to her. Kissed me firmly on the lips and
suddenly he said that he loved her very much. People somehow felt uneasy
by oneself. The look was farewell, but very calm and
loving. Lyuda follows Peter with her gaze, standing at the window.
I felt such emptiness, and my heart suddenly ached.
Petya, as always, looked at his windows and waved his hand.
to his wife, got into the Zhiguli car and drove away. How did
elk, forever.
IV
Lyudmila lay with her hand under her head, and
passing enveloped her in the blue of the darkness of that day.
8

Usually Petya arrived in the evening and was in time for dinner.
Well. Lyuda quickly cleaned the fish and fried it while her husband cooked
fell in and changed into a dressing gown, he was very loving
beat him to walk around in it (she gave him a terry robe
– blue with white stripes). Then they sat down at the table,
and Petya told how this time we went fishing
beam. They joked and laughed at another new anecdote.
dotom. This happened every time, but that evening it all happened...
it was different.
Lyudmila saw her husband off and began to cook borscht,
Then I peeled the potatoes and cut them into strips so that
then quickly fry it before my husband arrives. All day
she was not left with a vague anxiety, excitement, foreboding
something incomprehensible, inexplicable, but to stop it
something no one could do. My heart suddenly began to skip a beat and...
I wanted to tap out my chords loudly and very quickly.
She remembered that she sat down to watch TV, showing
is there any film about the Great Patriotic War. She
tried to understand the content, but she couldn’t figure it out
it happened. My soul was very uneasy. Suddenly
for herself, Luda lay down, closed her eyes and
fell asleep. She dreamed of some tunnels, a labyrinth
you, she still couldn’t get out of them,
into the air and suddenly heard her husband’s voice as he called
her: “Lyudochka! Farewell!..” Luda sharply opened her eyes,
jumped up from the sofa and ran to the window, hoping to see
to buy a familiar car. A blizzard was raging outside the window,
The snow was pouring, the wind was howling. She stood at the window, looking
walked into the darkness. It gets dark early in winter, but the snow was
light. Looking at her watch, she noted that it was already
evening came, twenty hours, twenty minutes.
Petya usually arrived at nine o’clock in the evening. Luda
I prepared everything and sat down to watch the news on TV.
9

Zora. Karinochka came and fed her, Luda couldn’t
gave off a feeling of unease. In a conversation with my daughter about
last day, Luda was afraid to say that she heard
la dad's voice.
Petya still wasn’t there. She called Larisa, Va-
Silia, a friend with whom Peter went fishing. Either
the phone was turned off, or didn’t work, Luda didn’t care
called. Morning has come. Some kind of blue, cold.
Luda listened to the bells and the front door,
looked out into the street. But the answer was ominous
silence. About six o'clock in the evening the phone rang. Luda
I ran up to him and grabbed the phone.
- Yes. I'm listening to. – she answered impatiently
– Are you Lyudmila Aleksandrovna Pushchina? - voice in
the pipe was cast with lead.
- Yes it's me.
– Is this your husband, Pyotr Ivanovich Pushchin? He lived
is he with you?
– Yes, with me and my daughter Karina! Who are you? Why do you need
should I clarify all this?
- Lyudmila Aleksandrovna, take courage, Va-
Our husband Per Ivanovich was killed. You need to come
to the morgue and identify her husband. Please accept my condolences, but
work is work and I'm doing it. I'm waiting for you
one hour on Kuznetskaya Street, but you probably know where
This. Captain Ershov Nikolai Vadimo spoke to you
HIV, from the regional department.
Lyudmila listened to all this as if through cotton wool. Words before-
flew and settled in the consciousness like black flakes.
“Yes, okay, I’ll be there now,” as if on repeat.
Lyuda barked. She immediately dialed Slavik’s number, he was shocked.
Zu approached.
- Mom, what happened?
10

- Son, come urgently. We have a misfortune with dad.
“I’ll be right there, calm down, mommy,” Slava shouted.
Luda stood holding the receiver in her hand, listening to the rapid
beeps. Then she slowly put the phone down and
I began to quickly get dressed. Fifteen minutes later
the doorbell rang, it was my son.
- Mom, mom, what’s wrong with dad? - asked Slavik.
- They called from the regional department and said that he had been killed and
you need to come to the morgue for identification - all this is Lud-
Mila said it like a tongue twister and then, looking at
son, how he straightened his hair (with Petin’s characteristic
gesture), she screamed and began to cry uncontrollably.
It's in the strong hands of my son.
- Mommy, don’t cry. Here's some water for you, have a drink.
Maybe this is some kind of mistake, maybe it’s a namesake, -
tried to console Slavik’s mother.
- Or maybe it’s true. Well, let’s go quickly,” she began to say.
she bemoaned her son.
Lyudmila was half asleep, everything happened as if
as if not with her.
An hour later, he and Slavik arrived at Kuznechnaya
street, house number two. These black doors Luda are not for-
there will never be. They entered the room and were asked
go down the steps to the basement. Entering the semi-dark
room, Lyudmila grabbed her son’s hand and squeezed all over.
The doctor’s voice said: “Come closer and take a look.”
those on this person."
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the graying forelock, the face
whiter than snow and closed eyes. It was her husband, Peter.
She silently began to sink to the floor and was caught under
the hands of her son and the doctor, but she didn’t feel anything anymore,
she lost consciousness. How long did the fainting last?
she couldn’t say for sure, Lyudmila came to her senses
11

Already at home, a doctor in a white coat bent over her, and
a son and daughter were sitting nearby. Karina was already home when
Yes, mom and Slavik arrived.
“Heart, heart, oh how it hurts,” whispered Lud-
sweetheart. The children quickly called an ambulance. Having made an injection
problems with heart and blood pressure, the doctor called cardiologist
gical machine to make sure there is no heart attack.
But the ambulance doctor, after taking the cardiogram, said,
that the patient has a pre-infarction state, having learned the
rank, did not take him to the hospital, but prescribed treatment in a hospital
home conditions. Moreover, there were very
difficult days.
As Lyudmila later found out, Petya and Vasily returned
We said goodbye to fishing and stopped to drink hot tea
or coffee. There were several people in a roadside cafe,
they sat at tables, drank beer, had dinner. All of a sudden
the man sitting half-turned opposite Peter stood up
and began to pester the girl who came in with a travel bag -
Coy in his hands and a tracksuit. Petya came up and
asked this man to leave the girl alone. But
the short-haired man suddenly pulled out a knife,
pressed the button and put his hand forward. Petya nothing
I didn’t have time to understand. The blow was precise - right to the heart.
tse. Everyone started screaming, calling the police, calling the police
I'm rooting." Two guards jumped up from behind and, striking the killer,
Tsu, they tied him up. Vasya ran up to his friend, but already
his eyes became cloudy, and blood ran from under his jacket, which
it became more and more. The police arrived
"ambulance", but Peter no longer needed help. The killer
taken away in handcuffs. Vasya also went to the department -
testify with the girl. She came to the
teachers and left a little earlier than the station, I wanted
something hot. That's how it all happened.
12

Then the funeral, the wake, nine days, forty days
and finally a year. Lyudmila was talking to her husband all the time.
Well, I asked him for forgiveness. Neither the son nor Karinka
could understand nothing. My health was getting worse and
worse. Doctors demanded that she go to the district hospital
hospital. So Lyudmila ended up in the cardiology department
logy.
Before leaving for the city, at night Luda took a notebook and
turning to Slavik, she wrote him a letter of repentance,
and begging him to find Brother Kirill and explain everything to him.
On the notebook, which she sealed in an envelope, she wrote:
sala: “Open after my death”, date, month, year.
I hid this envelope behind the books in the secretary.
After Petya's death, Luda felt the need for everything -
finally find your son, little blood Peter and her, dear
th brother of Slava.
V
It was raining outside the window. In the ward to the departments
cardiologists were preparing for the morning rounds. People-
la washed, combed her hair, lay down on the bed, got ready
was preparing to go around. The medications prescribed to her were taken
ok, the injections are done. There's still oxygen cocktail left
and physiotherapy. A doctor and a nurse entered the room.
At first Lyuda heard the doctor’s voice, something trembled
inside. So Kirill Alekseevich approached her neighbor,
sat down on the bed and began asking about her well-being.
sti. Luda looked at the attending physician and listened.
I was drawn to his voice and intonation. Approaching her bed,
Kirill raised his hand and straightened his hair. Something pierced-
Lyudmila felt as if she had been shocked - she recognized this gesture.
A characteristic gesture, familiar and so familiar, a gesture
13

Her beloved husband. She couldn't speak. She found out
your son with a mother's heart, which is impossible
deceive. Her Petya stood in front of her, only having become younger -
alive, alive. She felt the cold all the time, the ice of her lips
nothing, and this feeling did not go away, did not warm up.
- You feel bad? - The doctor was scared.
The patient, Lyudmila Alexandrovna, first looked
to Kirill Alekseevich and didn’t say anything, then
tears just flowed out of her, then she started sobbing bitterly,
repeating one thing:
- Sorry, sorry, son.
Doctor Kirill Alekseevich assigned Lyudmila Alek-
Sandrovna urgent internal infusion and drip.
She began to breathe more evenly. The roommates were scared, but
They couldn’t understand anything.
Two hours later the children arrived: Slavik and Karinka. They
We found out that something happened to my mother. Slavik leaned
approached Lyudmila and kissed her. She opened her eyes and
said quietly:
– In the secretary, behind the volume of Pushkin, lies a blue
notebook. Slavochka, son, don’t judge me. I was too
I am young, I thought that I could endure everything, but it turns out...
I guess it's not that simple. We make mistakes in
youth, youth, and retribution comes throughout
life. I doomed myself to torment. The pangs of unforgiveness
the torment of silence, the torment of loneliness. Now go home and
read this notebook. I love you all very much, I'm sorry
me and be happy with Karinochka. I know that you
You love her very much, and she loves you too.
Lyudmila leaned back and fell asleep. Slavik in
sat for a while and, taking Karina by the hand, left the room.
Arriving home, he went to the secretary and took out a notebook.
ku and opened it. Time flew by, morning came. Sla-
14

Va couldn't believe it was all true. And what does he have
brother, and Karina too. And most importantly, Ka-
Rinushka, his dark-skinned girl, is not his sister, which means how
Mom said they can be happy. Slava decided
give this notebook to Karina too. Karina read a confession
women-mothers and just cried. Then she went up to
Slavik and just hugged him, and they kissed, but
with another kiss, a kiss between two loving people.
In the morning, Slava and Karina went to the hospital to see their mother.
They were met by the attending physician Kirill Alekseevich:
- Your mother has become worse, we are doing everything necessary -
mine in such cases, but... She wants to tell you something
“Well, go to her,” said Kirill Alekseevich.
Slava and Karina entered the room, but into a different one.
Mom was lying alone, they connected an artificial
breathing, her eyes were closed, but she
I heard everything.
“Come closer, my dear children.” I love you very much
I love you, forgive me. But I still found my soulmate
his son, he is very similar to Petya, and you and him are on the same page.
“Okay, Slava,” Lyudmila said in a whisper.
- Who is he? - asked the son.
– This is Kirill Alekseevich, doctor. I only knew
that he was named Kirill, but he also looks like Petya.
Luda took the hands of her son and daughter and joined them.
- Forgive me, be happy. Pass Ki-
Rilla that I always thought about him and never forgot-
la, I kept imagining what he was like now.
People were getting worse, their voices were getting quieter
and quieter.
Karinka, crying, jumped out of the room and pushed
I hung out with Kirill. Kirill entered and approached the patient.
She took his hand and whispered:
15

- Forgive me, forgive me, son, don’t judge me
strictly.
Her voice became quieter, her breathing slowed. Kirill
jumped up and began to breathe straight, then asked
everyone come out and called the nurse.
“Okay, we have to start her heart.” She must
to live,” cried Kirill Alekseevich.
But all attempts to revive and return to life
nor Lyudmila's efforts turned out to be futile.
Three people were crying by her bed: two sons and a daughter. That's all
my story is about a mother's heart.
“Everything passes” is written on King Solomon’s ring.
on the. The mother's heart could not stand loneliness, could not stand
the sting without filial love could not withstand the secret. And pe-
stopped beating.
"Mother's Heart"
A mother's heart beats in time with the hearts of her children.
A mother's heart knows no peace.
And the birds fly out of the nest.
Sadness, sadness will be dispelled by a mother's hand
Hugging children
Or maybe the sky is blue.
4.06.04

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