Here is a recollection came to me first to mind, and, on reflection, I realized that even remember this when something very unpleasant and scary for me history, only one good. All thought of as a casus, for year ended, fortunately, quite well. And, as you know, all's well that ends well. So I could not at the recollection of the events of those days cause in your soul nothing worse smile and irony.
Never hurt these memories no one string pain or sadness, and I honestly Охромову:
"You know, Greg, you're right. I absolutely e бльно remember this. Now remembered one story, доставившую me once lot of unpleasant experiences... Помишь when I guard "flew"?
-AA-a... Well?
-I remember now, as a great adventure, and only...
"You see, and you know why? Because чтооно ended all the same well, and that you remember stronger than all gone through then troubles together. I say that troubles are forgotten very quickly, in contrast to the good memories.
-What do you mean?
-Yes, that by law you for the crime was to get a life in the Slammer, and what really happened? Nothing. So you had forgotten about this story.
-But I still remember about her! So you're here, I think, is not right, " I said Охромову.
"But you say yourself that you remember this, as необыное adventure. And then it was a turning, a turning point in your life, and you take it very differently. If you are being punished, as you TGO deserve, then you should have it by then, most likely, has experienced. And so — it's just fun, only it difficult variety. So to say, with aggravating circumstances. Now. Now don't you remember what feelings, what experiences tormented and tortured you тогдая?
-Probably, not.
-Well, here. And the feelings remember the longer and deeper than what we remember the mind. So, you're the event will not Pro-feelings-of-shaft. If felt somehow remembered.
-So what do you think prevented me feel?
-Lack of proper punishment. You don't even sat in that time brig, isn't it?
-However, did not sit.
-Well, how do you think, if you put hot would guard, you would repent of their deeds?
I thought about it and agreed.
-However, nodding in acknowledgement, continued Охромов, " you should be in life still it would be useful. Experience would be in vain.
-Why is this?
-Because then you would already would, again as a cadet. Would you became a changed man. Поимаешь?! Has turned into a de least Zeca, and a way you will not see. But in prison need is a completely different experience. And all over again. However, the memory itself would put up with your OREM and wiped him from their pages to make room for another new experience, which would be able to provide further life. And mourn for the past, you can afford only when TEB in life increasingly less благополуно. Prison is not a Paradise for гргустных memories. Grieving for the past, there can be and disappear. Descent yourself in the Slammer should not be given, otherwise was going to kill. Do not own, so wrong. There must fight for his life. However, as elsewhere. Only there probably is hard and relentless struggle. Would you agree with me?
-Yes, perhaps you're right! But how do you know all this?! About the prison, for example?!
"Yes, " replied he укловнчиво and vague-I know — and all... Okay — suddenly started it, is something we're заболтались topic. It is time to begin. A night on the nose.
Chapter 21.
We came out of the barracks and headed to the sports ground, where I showed Охромову our hidden paper. They were intact. And who might want this trash?! Except that the boys from neighboring houses, often spending their time for self-indulgence and frolic, with a fool could dip into it, and then we would have to postpone our plans. And postpone had no way!
Охромов examined meticulously collected me a paper and said:
-You know, still not very likely! Подозритеьно!
-But you всчера said that pulls!
-To say something said. And here now I can see that is in itthe 't it. Not that... Oh, well would stuff ten-fifteen these manuscripts put on top for excuses, " he looked at me, like a baby's coming manuscript. — They same also not stupid... what do you think?
-Yes, perhaps you're right, " I agreed, and suggested that, immediately regretting I dissolved the language, — and you know, I here in the room there are a few manuscripts.
Охромов on fire:
-So what did you use to keep quiet?"
I don't know, " I replied, in the soul continuing to lament my outburst.
"Now, let's then run Duy in the barracks, or where they have you lie, and return here. We распихаем on the stack, so they were over the top. While I get that call from factories, that everything is done.
We parted. I went to the barracks to pick up from the room manuscripts, issued by собстенной my stupidity, and Охромов почался call. I was настолко upset that not even surprised that Охромов so calmly reacted to the fact that I was perfectly fits" several manuscripts. As if so, what nonsense, on every corner lies. He even asked him where I got though I were in his place, asked this necessarily.
Going into my room, I sat on the bed and thought for a moment. At heart I had my doubts. Terrible doubt overwhelmed me. I didn't know how same me still to enter. How my mind one after another floated manuscripts that хранилис me. They didn't rates, and even I, although it was quite far from this, understood this. Each of them was worth at least, and possibly dozens more that promised to pay for Охромову. In addition, I read them as much as possible, and насклько they were clear, they were so interesting for me. Down былло a lot of unusual things, what I have not ever сталкиватся neither in life nor in other literature. Something told me that I should not use these books are so vain and инае it isn't.
"Return — a bad omen!" thought suddenly I. -Really, what the hell I came back ?!"
I stood up and hurried back, out of the room, away from the barracks.
When Охромов from afar still waving his hand, and touched not the almost land of joy ran up to me as an avid athlete, or delight in his mood markedly diminished. He looked at my hands, pockets, stomach, trying to, apparently, understand, where are they hidden promised me the treasures and then, finally, realizing that I have nothing was astonished:
"Why don't brought nothing?
-Drive back was a bad sign, I volunteered, trying not to look him in the eye.
"You realize what you have done? Do you understand? angrily asked Охромов moving towards me as if to hit me.
I don't understand, " I replied, and not going back. -I come from a pure heart told me I was eatingь manuscripts. What if I were not? We would still have to go to this meeting.
-That if, Yes if only .... That, tucked? — suddenly, right in the forehead, bluntly asked Greg.
-Clutch! — I retorted, though not like to quarrel with him.
Охромов smiled strangely. From this his smile I felt somehow uneasy. "The Jew, " I thought to myself, -the Jew — you, kike!" wound his soul the words of hurt полоснули on the heart. I did not want to offend me, but I somehow did, and this случалосьсо me, alas, not for the first time. I did it, probably, for conscience ' sake, and my friend so he thought to himself, most likely. Thought, Yes, but not said.
Since childhood I have pursued these painful for me are the words which I took as an insult, Yes that is what they were. "The Jew, the Jew, often sounded at me, even though I considered in my soul, myself Russian. I had no reason to consider himself a Jew. Anyway, I was sure I was sure then that I am not a Jew, not a kike, that обзывательства these completely vain and not worthy of my attention. But I ceased not to pester issues with a subtle hint about what my nationality. Although all the докумнетах I passed by nationality as Russian, but all my life, everywhere pursued these two damned word. They chased me изподтишка when I'm not looking forward to this, and, chasing, hurt to the heart, in the most secluded corner. In the end, I been taught, then I really, if not a Jew, so, anyway, and not Russian.
In the end my inner faith that lasted a very long time and courageously, violently beating ve attacks on national soil, the faith that I am Russian, badly shaken. This happened in more Mature age, when I was able to perceive other people's views and judgments about yourself in a new light and with several other consciousness than in childhood.
I cannot become a cosmopolitan in the soul. Endless reminders that I am not Russian, I am a Jew or someone else, the most powerful and irreversibly undermined once were strong Patriotic feelings in me, and I already knew not to fifteen years, to what land me draw your prayers, and what part of the land considered his true homeland, the land of their ancestors.
Yes, I didn't know my pedigree further to the second generation. My parents and grandparents are not caused me to doubt that they Rusichi, because their Motherland were villages of Northern regions, where the Jews were not found. But still, the older I became, the more doubt cause the purity of my family tree. Yes, and some are not beautiful secrecy surrounding the birth of my parents reached the edge of my ear, his полупонятностью, hinting giving birth to my soul all the troubles and doubts, who strengthened me with every year, and the attitude of the people, not перстающих усомневаться in my national origin, всяески fueled this diabolical mess. Once I heard the mother boasted one of your friends that my grandmother, her mother gave birth to her from a passer-Gypsy, заскочившего in their village for a few of days. At the time when she was born, her alleged legal father, three years already, as he gave a soul to the Lord God, and when she was born, went to the village priest to baptize girl and agreed with him somehow to her recorded in the metric of three years old, though not a month passed, as was born. Pop then then baptized in secret, by agreement деревенсских, which protected him from the authorities, as the Apple of his eye. And совместительно and officially it with most of the post-revolutionary years, once banned the Church, worked in the village Council, in the table рагистрации of acts of civil status. Peasants chairmen, all who was firmly punished "do what you want, but the priest did not touch". Otherwise promised disobedient fierce think of death, and his family, the whole damn собачтим reduced. Here and was baptized by the pop Yeshe long fifty years and metrics at the same time пописывал. And мамку my baptized three years older than she was. Don't know what's to him my grandma something the matter with her, but also, apparently, do not put in the top паце was quiet.
Another time my mother she told me that often called the father of my jokingly allegedly kike, and a Jew, but assured me that he is Russian, only appearance was a painfully black, Eastern. I believed, and did not trust her immediately. It was difficult for me to believe, if I absolutely unknown to each дургом people, not saying a word, I was told the same.
However, I have not always been taken for a Jew, if you talk dirty. In the various ages of me called differently. Yes, when I was young, I was persistently declared "еврейчиком". They spoke to me and my peers, barely even with me, who grew up to kindergarten, said that and the guys are older, had studied at the school. I though it was sheer small fry, has already tried to отбрыкиваться from such attacks, angry and suffered deeply in the soul, trying to отшучиваться and wrapping the matter as a joke, to prove offenders, that I am Russian. But this is only amused around me, and seeing that I was angry and I worry, белею anger and resentment, and ready now, and weep, but consider myself from tears, they not only did not cease, all you want of me, but did it with great pleasure and daring. It happened that, unable to stand, I fought with someone, but it did not help: I could not переколотить of all their peers, скоорее they took me to the turnover. At this time I tried to fight my doubts and although suffered and suffered greatly in the soul, never talked to my parents about how I обзыают and tease. I was too shy to ask such questions to the father, and even more to talk about what had happened, fearing that he would be hurt. The mother sometimes dared to ask with great to do with creativity and care: "Mama, I am a Russian?", "Mom, we Russians? Are you Russian? And the Pope? He is also a Russian?" "Russian, Russian you, " replied my mother, probably, and not knowing about my mental torment. -And I'm Russian, and your dad English..." and I often, with age, asked: "But why then so much they call me a Jew?"
When I grew up already so far when a boy becomes a man, my appearance was much more difficult to determine. There is already наали some of my fellow students, and by that time I already embarked on the path of military field, attending Suvorov military school, "кадетке" in our folklore жаргончике whizzed and more mundane assumptions about my nationality. Variations on a theme of what a Tartar, and, may be, and Hungarian, мадьяришка, but in General, sometimes, смахиваю the Chinese probably unusual , bloodless yellow shade of my skin, which, like names-прилипалам, has haunted me all my childhood. Came up to me and does exotic race and nationality. I was and Korean, and вьетнамцем, and who only was not, except that the Negro nobody call failed: skin color, probably, did not allow — but now, imagine that the mulatto in Maine couple of times recognized without it, not cost.
All this was, and, honestly speaking, I was even glad somehow be Hungarian and Chinese, but if one began to suspect me a Jew, then I take it with constant pain and suffering in the soul. And why I was horribly belong to this националности, I imagine never could.
Yes. I got used to the fact that I am not Russian. My father was Mao growth and кучеряв that seemed to me an obvious sign of his Jewish origin, and once stopped to see him, the thought of this idea has become stronger in me with a thoroughness, and I learned to simply enjoy myself in the soul, if no one spoke on the topics of national facilities, and any disputes, which I never usually do not interfere, because I вешда said in that case: "And you, in General, not Russian, some sit and be quiet!"
A little later, I just said,
"Listen, you're not Russian, as if they saw me for the first time and made the discovery.
-Why is this? — continued relentlessly ask me.
-Do not know, — answered me, " but the Russian you don't like.
Although this attitude was unpleasant, but it was still softer the wild насмехательства and insults that I used to endure as a child from their peers. Then I. Probably acquired the complex of national inferiority that sometimes tortured me to this day.
