Happened to my wife. She wanted a lot at once, was impatient and little heard that told her I. She hoped to make the breakthrough of the poverty in which we were born and lived upstairs in the higher spheres, but not calculating their feeble women's strength, lost and what was rolled downhill high pitch in the bottom. This woman still alive, but has no what was once a dream, in the end, each. She has lost her house, and broke it in a hurry, my little mirror счстья, hoping to find more, and never able to come again neither, although wants it. She's going to die lonely, unfortunately away from the son, not remembering her husband down the weight vulgar, low-life, which itself had plunged. And it was only her wine. Help her already impossible... Yes-Ah-ahhh, well, let's go out in that room. I'll show you something... well, look here. See?..
Old man in between times telling the sad story of his life, until we moved with him from room to room, and I was wondering how similar it on fate, the breakdown of my family. How many such people in the world whose a little happiness here now, just as the утлому ship in ruthless and vast ocean, разбиввается and dies before their eyes, dies and sinks under the burdens of life's storms. Probably, there are few lucky ones whose ship passed through these trials судьбины, not having received the holes, or not losing masts or sails, or not broken wheel. It is difficult to find such a man to rejoice at least for his happy voyage. Difficult, especially in our искалеченном the world, I do not know, how there, overseas: never been before.
We went, went, went in the dark, and I have already lost count of time, couldn't tell how long it lasts. It seemed that these dark hallways, rooms, all around was lost somewhere in eternity beyond time, and I now destined to wander here and so, the old man, ad infinitum, until lawlessness, until there is a dimension. I was still that tells me this man, walking in front of me with коптящей kerosene lamp, where he leads me, and that shows why he was doing and what he is talking about, that he even need from me, and when it was over. I was absolutely don't care if I was dead tired and want to sleep. I walked forward as got machine with no feelings and sensations.
Old man also walked ahead of me, less Recalling human and more machine or robot, and speaking said, without interruption:
"...If I was twenty years ago скзали that we live so, as we live now, I would have laughed and spat would be the person who spoke it. How do! As we moved forward, built communism! We fought for the ideals and, it would seem that they would very soon, if not today, then tomorrow will. It could not be otherwise. But, it appears, would and could. What we came up with? However, all this is only talk. I know all, and tell thee all that stuff. The reasons for not even those who led the whole Nations on тупиковому way. They лиь pawns. More mighty and terrible forces conducted and will conduct its bloody game destinies of entire ethnic groups with these puppets and stooges. But I shouldn't tell you about it, even despite the fact that this is my last night presence not only in this dimension, but generally, in the absolute.
The old man paused, and then said suddenly:
-True, coffee, which today we drank, has already far not the taste that before...
We came to the room, the door of which was lined with galvanized iron. The old man stopped in front of her, paused, and then lifting up the index пралец, as a sign of special attention, said:
"This is a special room. Here lie the books and manuscripts, which were supposed to be in the SPECDEP yet the KGB archives, how they got here is a long story, and I have no time for you to talk about it. Here you will find many rare books and друнгие documents for which you can get a lot of money. But you keep them as the Apple of the eye, and they serve thee faithful service. By the way, here was lying book your father...
-My father? — I was surprised.
-Yes, your father, " said the old man, but she lies elsewhere. I would read it. You can find answers to many of life issues that you care. Get it, read. She lies... However, I'll show you where.
I felt amazing. I first heard that my father wrote books, and even more, to represent any danger to the state. Even more surprising was how this book turned out to be in this house. A vague guess lit up for a moment my mind between this book and the fact that the father planted, there had to be some connection. And, probably, the most direct.
"Please excuse me, I said to the old man after a long think, — you that were familiar with my father?
-No, — ответл the old man, shaking his head, however, I noticed his hesitation. — As you'd better speak... I thy father personally do not know, but many have heard about it and read some of his works. The fate of such people небезинтересна me and therefore I know that he was convicted of anti-state activity. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much about it talk.
At this time, somewhere in the dark recesses large house the clock struck twelve. Heavy, rolling rumble echoed through the around the dark home and came to us, violating the dead silence. I looked at the old man. At the sound of each удараон quietly wince and, Nemo lips believed them silently. When stopped mellow отзвукпоследнего impact the striking of the clock, he sighed heavily, shrugged and with melancholy looked at me.
"You must 'll now leave, dear friend— I heard his words.
-But why? But we haven't examined all.
My life left four hours. And this time I want to devote themselves. I do долден one case, the last and very important. For this I need solitude. Farewell.
-Well, what will I do then?
-Then you just прийдешь here. I'm sure you won't forget the way. But come here in the dark, otherwise you you can't get into this house. Remember?
-Yes.
-Kerosene lamp you will find in the porch. She gets under your hands, when you begin to look for her. I do not seek more and now leave me alone. Go.
And we have moved back on corridors this Strantion house, turning to leave.
-I am very sorry that I missed you much to tell, " said the old man, seeing me, — not so long ago, I was the administrator of an unusual archive. It was ten years ago during the period, referred to as vague, отступническими. Now remember that then allegedly all captured greed and desire to get rich, that it was a major victory for our enemies in the ongoing war two systems, two ideologies. But our society has managed to recover from this attack and restore the lost positions... It was then such a society, a fairly large. It was called "Club of Amateurs and had its own section in many cities of the Soviet Union. The company is subordinated to another, more powerful organization, but I will not speak and if you must, you know about it when the time comes. History is a long and difficult.
Club of Amateurs dealing with that collected using various means of various manuscripts and samizdat books that have been banned for production homeland and made them a copy to be shipped abroad, if there was manifested interest in a particular product. He also conducted negotiations with foreign buyers on the sale of archival materials individuals and private museums. The "Club", there were multiple repositories, некоорые of which were opened for all visitors. They were called: "Museum "Club of Amateurs. But there were those who do not even рассекречиывались in the most favorable years of that time, when it seemed that everything you can. In the "Club", in his guide, fortunately, there were sober heads, expecting every period of freedom ends the reaction, and the greater, the stronger to the official authorities let go of the reins. This is the house and was equipped with one of these secret vaults. About its existence knows very limited круглюдей. Now he is much already, because many of those, who created no longer alive, others sit on prisons and roam the stages Russia.
In recent years the time, now called the Faint, that's in such secret store actively started to flock books and yet not published works, news traveled from legal museums and semi-legal clubs. Then began to tighten the screws, returning the country to normal. However, she of these iron embrace and not get out until the end. So it turned out that I was, was the Keeper and the owner of Unicum modern history and the recent past. Secret ways here still continue to flock products seditious thinking. Giant secret store continues to accumulate wealth thought... But, here we are.
Scarcely had he uttered these words, and immediately stumbled on something soft, not the cloth, not the fallen on the floor some clothes on and I realized that we came to the porch of the house where and began path.
-All the farther you go himself, " the old man said, confidentially he touched my shoulder.
"Good-bye, " I said.
Goodbye, ' said the old man, and I was scared whether from the tone, as he uttered these words, whether from a feeling that the old man is really not joking.
I wanted to get better, but the word "goodbye" and застрялос in my throat. I could no longer speak.
-Providence itself will lead you to the door, when necessary, " said the old man.
These were his last words I hear him clearly, and could vouch for it, but it was something I thought or felt, he spoke after him, a little later, after I had left the house.
In the dark I hardly felt the door leading into the yard, and, opening her already, turned around and looked at the old man. He was standing, lit by dim light керосинки, and how this was evident with so little light, his face was filled with genuine sadness.
They say that on the face is not written, but I like read on the face of the old man исполнившую his death anguish and grief. Wrinkles suffering, especially clear now, cut through the skin it back and forth, and she looked like the skin of an old baked potatoes.
Dumb on the verge of beginning to weigh me with his infinity, and I'm foolish, opened the door and went out into the garden surrounding the house. Already after a few steps. I heard the wind blowing, долетевшие to me words: "goodbye, son." Maybe I heard. I walked among the trees, not looking back, and me all the time and wanted to go on the run, to run, but I still restrained himself, and when he reached the gate of the fence, behind which was a street breathed a sigh of relief.
Street brought me a refreshing relief. The moment I stepped on it and I like a roll call of yard dogs met me and not умолкала for a long time. Probably, up to the intersection, leading into the city.
Now, carefree, casually walking down the street and fluently remembering past events, it seemed to me that the old man outside the door исчес in the dark before I could turn away. It is the recollection seemed strange to me, and I made an effort to remember the last scene, but now only great regretted that he did not pay attention to the incident своевременно.теперь was already too late.
I went for a night on the sleeping city, in the face I blew crude, cold, biting wind. Little joy from what I ended up on the street, in the open air that felt safe greater than in the house of the old man, выстудилась, weathered, giving place to ознобу and a feeling of discomfort. I even sprinted running, still he could not keep warm heat flowed faster than I was catching his swift movement.
Time approached hour of the night. I was late, risking to get the fullest. Most now was troubling me, Kaak there in the school notice my absence, waiting to see whether now my return. It would be better not waiting for: whither shall I go? Then we could work something out for "fluff".
In the wrong розоватом light of lanterns, illuminating with high pillars empty streets of the city, I was back in school. A wave of cold drizzle me pour over his head to foot, making almost wet. Hands. Especially hands, his fingers froze, as if outside was autumn, and I клял themselves псоледними words for his авантюристическое behavior mi нувшим in the evening.
All that happened seemed now more and more frivolous, unimportant as the closer and closer it became the school.
The city seems to have died. Not a soul, not a single idly staggering чедловека I met along the way, and only cats sometimes ran out of my way, and then I peered into the darkness, not whether black color. And if it happened that the cat was black, he would move to another street and went round the tenth way this place, hoping that difficult passeth by.
My head was spinning now only one crazy its simplicity thought "the Sooner the better get to bed and sleep!" nothing else I already didn't care to such a degree I'm tired, and even the fact that I'll probably wait commanders, тревожилосейчас only because it would become unnecessary obstacle on the way to the bed.
Отсутстие my not pass unnoticed, in the barracks still waiting. And waited for quite a long time. When I changed clothes at the headstock, long and сварливо ворчавшей me for this late visit, ran last the distance of several hundred meters, jumped over the fence, got to the barracks and went into him, quietly crept on tiptoe to своейй room, thunderous voice дежжурного battery stopped me, calling out the names. Such treatment could mean only one thing: in the barracks were officers. Between them in the absence of начальственного eyes cadets each other behaved so very rarely, except for "шизиков", intellectually and "those who went on the service, or, if not respected, who turned.
I stopped.
-Yakovlev! Yakovlev! again, loudly, rnu openly called me on duty. Yakovlev, go to the office.
The last hopes on a successful outcome of my misconduct burst like a soap bubble, broke away in the chest together with wildly and hurt заколотившимся heart, breath, in the face of smell heat upcoming unpleasant scene.
It seemed to me, that does not sleep the entire battery, that not only those who sit in the office, but the cadets in their beds listen to what is going on in the hallway, who with malice, who with compassion, who with ordinary curiosity and desire to taste something new and unusual, there are thrill seekers at the expense of others.
There was nothing to do, I turned and went into his office and even not as slow as I wanted to feel like I трушу (I never got feelings heroism of this stupid мальчишества so many times, together with a proud determination, and an unwillingness to submit to подводившего me under monastery).
Not remembering itself, I walked into the office. The battery commander was sitting at the table and puffed a cigarette. He looked at me with a look full of arrogant contempt. So looks the winner of the loser, not even worthy to defeat at his hands, looked like, probably, titled representative of the highest caste of medieval society on his prostrate man-servant, вздумавшего возомнить myself to him equal. So look, apparently, and Royal lion, claw legs вспоровший belly задиравшейся him miserable tykes and put out her guts.
