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Game funny snail. "Merry Snail" (story)

Son? Daughter?

Maria turned around.
- I'm sorry, what?

I ask, looking out for whom?

With undisguised curiosity, she examined the sinewy, lean, tanned body of her interlocutor in an old wheelchair with strange "author's" devices, involuntarily trying to determine his age and the reason for being in this "boarding house".

Son. - Not disposed to the conversation, she answered dryly.

Torn off chunk, - said the man in the wheelchair with a sigh.

Sorry? Maria did not immediately understand the course of his thoughts.

I say, the son is like a torn piece. The people say so. You grow up, you don’t sleep at night, you invest your soul, and he grows up and flies out of the nest ...

She looked at him, realizing that she did not want this communication at all. Her heart sank so tensely, pinching her thoughts and feelings into a tight tangle of faded memories. They were the only ones she had left. Somewhere in the depths of her inner night, in the light of the bright moon-soul, she understood that she was simply clinging to this hope, not wanting to let go, not wanting to put up, to admit. She found countless excuses and excuses, but she never asked that ominous, cutting off all her shaky arguments in favor of her son, the question "Why?" She understood that the answer to it would be that naked, frozen truth, the very accidental thought of which caused her unbearable pain. last years.

Thank you, - Maria turned again to the man in the amusingly equipped wheelchair, but she already found him famously turning his transport around, and looking after the rapidly receding wheelchair, she added almost in a whisper:

She was transferred to this nursing home, either with a mocking or with a funny name "Merry Snail" the week before last, since their "boarding house", as they used to call it with "girls", the new government closed due to lack of funds for maintenance . Indeed, no one allocated any funds, except for periodic sponsorship handouts before the elections, sincere visiting volunteers and kind local residents of the nearest two villages. The building was very dilapidated, but they were comfortable in it, somehow they got used to it, became friends ... And now everyone was "stuffed" somewhere, like old rags, in free corners. And almost no one knew who would be assigned where. And she was taken to the edge of geography, generally alone, since there weren’t many places here, to a village whose name she couldn’t remember.

And why should she remember it, no one will even look for it here. For two and a half years of her life in the old "boarding house" Valery did not come even once. When he brought her there, she said goodbye to him until the day after tomorrow ... which never came for her.

Baba Musya came once, last year, and she knows from her that he is alive and well, they made repairs, bought a new car, Lenochka was already in the fifth grade, and Volodka won a scholarship to some foreign college. She then greedily asked about her son and grandchildren, until Baba Musya could stand it and blurted out:

Yes, everything, Marusha, everything she knew, she told. After all, he doesn’t come in now, that’s all, he says, there is a lot of work, a lot, he gets tired, everything is business, business ... Yes, and thank God. Don't be offended by me, Marusha, but... It may be the way you say, "he offered, and you agreed"... ... Come on, it's up to you who is hard to live with, they are young, they want to be separate, okay, this can be understood, but ... it's immoral, sending a mother to a nursing home ... Forgive me, Lord, if I don’t understand why ... and never visit my mother ... He’s a little bastard, forgive me, an old, evil fool ... Forgive me, Marusha ...

And she chirped in response:

No, no, Bab Musya, he is very good, hardworking, well, it’s crowded, really, we were, and I was sick all the time, and there were kids. Yes, and they are young, they also want to live, it fell to us all ... and let them live a normal life. Thank God, he is alive and well, and the children are healthy ... How much do we need, Baba Mus? And you say yourself, he has no time for anything. I am like a ballast to him. And here we have a very spiritual company, we feel good here, the staff is more or less, it was worse in the hospital. And there's nothing ... Tolerable ... You, Bab Mus ... tell him hello, tell him everything is fine with me. And when the time comes, let him come, I'll wait ... Tell me not to worry, everything is fine ... How are you yourself, Baba Musya? How are the legs?

Baba Musya listened in silence, shaking her head in understanding. Then she spoke dryly about ailments:

Where are you going from them? Old age is not a friendly friend. It is already hard to go to Semyon's grave. Here, I got out to you, otherwise it’s not even an hour, I’ll die, and we won’t see each other. It became scary, I got ready, but I went. Fortunately, there are many good people who gave a ride, who suggested. It's a bit far, of course... You've lost a lot of weight, Marusha. Maybe it’s good here, but there are houses at home ... I don’t understand this, forgive me. It would be nice if there were no children ...

Everyone here is like that ... - Maria suddenly breathed quietly.

Which? - Baba Musya did not understand.

People... like me... Waiting... for a son, for a daughter. Only those who do not have ... or no memory ... They are happy, sometimes it seems to me ...

Oh, Mashenka, Mashenka ... - and Baba Musya burst into tears.

Bab Mus, what are you, my dear? I'm so glad you came. So glad... Do you want me to show you our garden? Do you want fresh milk? The locals bring us all kinds of goodies all the time, such kind people and old people live here. Also, I'll tell you, they themselves stayed, the young almost all went to the cities, poverty in the villages ... Or they drink ... But how can you leave the economy? Here they pamper us, either with milk, or with honey, or with fruits and vegetables ... Nothing, you can live. Yes, and the girls are good, we became friends ...

Are you planning on spending the night by the window? - Maria heard the familiar voice of a recent interlocutor. Dinner has already begun. Come on, girlfriend, come on, pick up the ruffles and - to the canteen! he commanded uncompromisingly.

At first she felt some kind of protest, even, but turning around, she immediately went limp. This time, a clean-shaven, well-combed, handsome man was sitting in a wheelchair, in an ironed shirt, buttoned neatly with all buttons.

Yes, - he said, as if in response to her thoughts, - I am a man, even though I am on a throne on wheels, and I don’t go to the dining room like a homeless bum. Especially when there are so many women around.

Do you charm everyone, Stepanych? - loudly and cheerfully, passing by along the corridor, shouted the elder sister, a lively and kind woman. Maria was very glad that when she was "assigned" here, it was she. Her replacement was a gloomy and not talkative woman, although someone has already said that she is also a good person.

Verochka, what would you do without us? Stepanych turned his whole carriage in her direction.

You, Maria Nikolaevna, do not look that Michal Stepanych is on transport, he is our enviable groom, a favorite. Turner of the fourth category! And a master of all trades, out, he made himself some adaptations!

And Verochka laughed loudly. Stopping in the aisle, she leaned on a birch tree painted on the wall, which still remembers a kindergarten here, which, already abandoned, was quickly converted into a nursing home nine years ago, without even changing the name.

He is with us ... "gentlement".

- "Gentleman", Verochka, - apparently, not the first time, Stepanych corrected her. Verochka laughed and disappeared behind the doors of the corridor.

That's what, I won't bother you, - he turned to Maria Stepanych, - But ... people here are different, fates are different, and almost everyone has the same reasons ... Therefore, when you get used to it, I'm in the left wing, in the seventh room , if I'm needed... Everyone here had their first days and weeks. You'll get used to it... The main thing is to learn to live here, not there...

And Stepanych pointed with his index finger somewhere behind him, behind his back. Maria involuntarily shifted her gaze in the direction of her finger, realizing where the symbolic gesture was pointing, but for a while her gaze strayed around the stands, graphs and posters on the wall of the corridor, behind the “gentleman” Stepanych.

He was silent for a few seconds, staring at her intently, and just as briskly as the first time, he turned around and drove off down the corridor. Maria noted that the stroller does not make any squeaks and looks quite well-groomed and efficient for its old age and wear.

Stepanych's face was still before her eyes. She tried to read in his wrinkles, as if by a guidebook of life, what kind of life he had and how he got here?

Maria leaned on the radiators under the windowsill. It was unbearable to stand any longer. Bones, harbingers of weather changes, ached mercilessly and the entire left part of the collarbone from the back simply broke into pieces. She slowly, shuffling a little from pain and exhaustion, wandered along the corridor to her room. I didn’t want to eat again, I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and not feel pain.

Slowly reaching her room, Maria wearily sat down on the bed, flooded with playful rays of the sun, so gentle and persistent, as on that day ...

In memory, frame by frame, the movie of her life was spinning softly and silently, she was the only spectator in her cinema who paid with her life for one single seat at big screen. She remembered almost all episodes except the last one. Memory is such an incomprehensible, unpredictable and unfaithful companion. She may be frivolous with yesterday, but she will not give you peace of mind with the minute-by-minute certainty of an event fifty years ago ...

AT recent times Maria often returned to that sunny Sunday afternoon, when she, a young sparkle and laughter, stood at the bus stop waiting for her bus, excited and enthusiastic - for the first time since she came to the city to study, she went with her friends to the theater. She wanted to arrive early in order to have time to walk and look around.

Not far from her, the "Volga" smoothly slowed down and, turning back a little, stopped in front of her. And a young smiling driver in a flashy fashionable cap addressed her directly:

Maria only smiled in response and shook her head negatively, turned away from the guy, looking out for her bus, as if from this he could come faster. The guy got out of the car, and she felt a tickling chill swept between her shoulder blades along her back and slipped exhaustedly down her shoulders to her fingertips. A strange and unfamiliar feeling. He was a tall, very handsome and handsome young man. Without ceasing to smile, he went around the car, opened the door on her side and accompanied by an inviting gesture, softly said:

I beg you, princess, to my modest pumpkin carriage. I promise, before twelve, she will not turn into a tavern.

It was very funny, unusual and original... Here, this moment that haunted her... She remembers this state well. Her body for a fraction of a second became motionless, not hers, cast iron, she could not move a single muscle to make even a slight movement. She didn't want to get into the car. And suddenly everything went away, she laughed and shook her head again, but she felt like she was literally being pulled inside this car. The guy persistently repeated the gesture and said something else funny, but Maria no longer remembered what ... but suddenly she took a step and sat down. Only when the door slammed did she seem to wake up, startled. She wanted to get out of this car. She began frantically trying to grab the handle to break free. But at that moment I heard a calm, smiling voice. Laughing, he said:

Don't be afraid, princess. You are safe. - And somehow she immediately calmed down, continuing to smile awkwardly for some time. Then she attributed all this to the fact that she got into such a car for the first time, the first time she was addressed like that, the first time a young man looked at her like that and the first time she found out that there were phenomena completely unfamiliar to her in her body .. .

Mitya ... Mitya .. forty-one difficult years of a difficult marriage ... If then, she had managed to control herself, with her strangely behaving body, with this girlish confusion, how would her life have turned out? She did not know the answer, but now she felt with all her old and naughty body that she definitely would not be here ...

Mariyka, - her neighbor, Klavdia Shulzhenko, as everyone called her for her incredible voice and singing, entered the room. And it seemed to everyone that she performed the songs of Claudia Shulzhenko especially delightfully. But these were simply "their" songs, songs on which they grew up, lived, loved, created, quarreled and reconciled, fell in love and created families, raised children and - believed in a brighter future ... her name was really Claudia, and her last name was Shulzhenko stuck to it by itself. - Look what the bunny gave you.

And Claudia held out three pies in wrinkled hands folded together. Here it was customary to bring something from dinner to those who, for some reason, didn’t get to it or didn’t go, or don’t go at all. And in her "boarding house" it was impossible to bring food to the rooms, only the sister came to feed the bedridden ...

Thank you, - Maria said quietly, feeling how hard it was for her to return from this day each time.

One step, just one step... which turned, replayed, rewrote, twitched unbidden, unbidden, her whole life. Like all girls of her age, she often drew pictures of her future life for herself, but such ... there weren’t exactly such ones ... No, she obviously did not regret anything. But why now does she feel that she has lived some kind of life that is not her own? Did she give birth, raise and love with all her heart not her son? Buried not her husband? Sits not on his bed, not his house, surrounded by good people, but not his people, not in his place? Or perhaps she deprived someone of this place, to whom it would be salvation, with a few more sips of life ...

She missed him very much, often recalled how funny he was in childhood, she kept his children's crafts and home-made gifts to her and her father, drawings, photographs and even a button from his shirt, which he himself volunteered to sew, but never did it . How small he hid in her palms, believing that it was impossible to hide more reliably, how often he hugged her, childishly, tightly, tightly. She so wanted to hug him now, to hold his hand, to pat her father's naughty mop of thick hair. Maria often imagined this, and she felt better. I imagined their meeting ... How he would enter and, without any preamble, from the threshold he would say: "That's it, get ready, mother, we're going home!" She wanted to hear his matured voice, to see his eyes with her beautiful long eyelashes, and - home, she really wanted to go home, to her native walls ...

When Valerka was little, he once told her that when she was an old grandmother and she had no teeth, he would chew her food. She laughed a lot as she imagined it. Maria was very proud of him ... He somehow pulled away after his marriage, sometimes it seemed to her that he was shy of her ...

She recalled how Volodenka was born, he was a small copy of Valerochka, and how her life was again filled with a child and children's wonderful world. She could no longer sit with Lenochka, she could not help, as before, her health had deteriorated completely, and she herself already needed care sometimes ...

Maria covered her face with both hands. She could hear her heart pounding in her bony sternum, reverberating through her head, her stomach, and even her legs. It takes her so long to get used to these noises in her head, to this body, in which something hurts and aches all the time, drawing attention to itself.

Maria's thoughts did not shy away from pain, they methodically, according to an old habit, expressed their opinion in her tired head, filled with noise and hum of pressure. And who just came up with this stupidity that something can be done to make old age carefree? Who hammered this anti-natural nonsense into people's heads, as if something could challenge this inevitable, irreversible process of life? "Take care of your old age" - Maria remembered a poster of some bank or clinic along the road. Old age does not come on the same day marked on the calendar. How to prepare for it? How can one deal with it? Is it possible to somehow take care of her?... But how tangibly her family, love, participation and understanding of loved ones could ease her... And carefree old age is a cowardly, far-fetched absurdity.

Old age is a helpless and hopeless resignation to the terms of the contract, which was signed with life by everyone who chose it for himself "long and happy." And this is what is easier to live in a family and doubly hard alone. But it is inevitable - to live ... And here - the same thing "alone". There is such a concentration of loneliness and disappointment here that even kind people who occasionally come across cannot brighten up the gloomy tones and halftones of a colorless picture, even your own optimism, glorified senile wisdom, all the zeal that you applied to your health - everything methodically quickly collapses and crumbles, like crumbly biscuits, in places like this. And you become a voluntary prisoner and hostage of your memories, pain and already nowhere to fit in, nowhere to hide, senile loneliness ...
Marika, what are you doing? You've completely unglued something ... Well, well, nothing, and we'll survive it! - Claudia lightly and supportively patted Maria on the shoulder, and putting the pies on the table, she sat down on the bed next to Maria, and hugged her shoulders. - Let's go to us, the weather is good today, let's go, there grandmothers are now preparing a scene for the holiday ...

Maria shook her head negatively, she had no strength at all.

My soul, a person should not be alone. Even more so for an older person. Let's go... It's more fun in the company. Let's go, Mariyka, otherwise you'll become quite an old woman.

And Claudia laughed softly. Maria smiled, she had already felt like an old woman for a long time.

And the old people... - Claudia turned to Maria, looked at her and seriously continued, - Lonely old people live as long as their memories live...

Maria looked at Claudia's kind face and realized that this is how she has been living lately, with memories ... But Claudia smiled and with her amazing voice dragged on her "Shulzhenko" repertoire:

"To that big one, to the crossroads,
I don't have to go anymore.

Life without love can be easy

But how can you live without love in the world?
Let love deceive you
Don't value it
Let her become sad
But how can one live without love in the world? ... "

The occasional sponsor of the "Veselaya Snail", a prominent "mafia" authority, as he was perceived by the locals, organized a serious program with artists and folklore for this occasion. He helped the house when he came here, but he did not visit these parts regularly. It was rumored that he himself was from these places, and allegedly an orphan, who was sheltered and raised by kind old people from a neighboring village. And he had some kind of sympathy for Stepanych and often liked to talk with him in the garden "for life."

Among the guests and local guests walked a tall young guy with a backpack and coarse hiking boots, looking like a foreign tourist who was brought here by mistake. He peered and looked at the whole old amusing performance. Stepanych, noticing the "tourist", rolled out to him along an earthen path from the alley.

- Who are we looking for, young man?
The guy turned around and, fiddling with the crumpled envelope in his hands, awkwardly bending down, embarrassed by the height of his height, stammeringly answered:
- Grandmother ... I'm looking for my grandmother.
- Does your grandmother have a name? - Stepanych asked calmly, looking at the envelope, which was exactly opposite his eyes. And suddenly his heart sank painfully. From the last lines of the return address crumpled through: "Village Snail" and below: "Gayeva Marie"
- Grandmother Masha ... Maria ... Maria Polegaeva ... Nikolaevna ... Maria Nikolaevna Polegaeva.
- She wrote...
- Yes, that is, no, that is .. - The young man looked very confused, he was excited and it was noticeable that everything he saw and heard greatly impressed him.
- Don't worry so much. There is no need anymore. Before, you should have been worried. - And Stepanych felt his voice stray and a treacherous lump appeared in his throat. He covered his eyes with his hand.

- I would really like to see her. I came from another... I study in... Well, it doesn't matter... We just moved to another city... I, in general... I came to meet my classmates... Well... - Stepanych did not interrupt his confused speech. He controlled himself and patiently listened to the guy's attempts to explain something that he considered necessary to tell. - I... somehow miss our house sometimes and... went there the next day... a woman, a neighbor... handed me this letter... More precisely... there are only two sentences... Can I see you with Grandma?
"Yes, of course," Stepanych replied calmly. And, without uttering another word, he went along the path to a small gate on the back of the house, beyond which a birch grove was visible. The guy silently followed him, looking around and looking at everything that caught his eye ...

Then you will go on your own. Immediately, behind that old birch, there will be a bench from a log house ... - The guy took off and literally ran in the indicated direction. - You go there ... - Stepanych finished to himself. He slowly turned the stroller around and drove towards his beloved, trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings.

Having reached the old birch, the young man stopped to take a breath and calm the excitement that had overwhelmed him a little. He had so much in his heart and soul. He imagined how he would hug his grandmother now. Everything will tell. He will come up with something to pick her up, take her to him, he will take care of her ... He slowly turned to a massive bench from a log house and stood in his tracks.

A moment later, on wadded legs, he approached the bench. With the last step, a small wooden cross and a neat mound next to it were already quite clearly visible. There were fresh flowers on the grave, and around - grown boxwood bushes. He raised his eyes to the cross and read on a small tablet the carefully, beautifully engraved name of his grandmother and the numbers... two dates, between which a dash - an engraved life, now fit into one small dash...

He felt like a partner in crime...

Volodya, my dear granddaughter, never offend or be offended by your parents, they love you very much, even when they are strict or not the way you would like ... - Volodya suddenly remembered a conversation in a whisper with his grandmother, when his parents punished him for his misconduct , and he stood in the corner and cried from the resentment that had seized him, and as a child he was very angry with them that they, already an adult guy, as he believed, were not allowed to walk and were not allowed to watch their favorite TV show. And then the grandmother came and quietly hugged and reassured him, talking with him "heart to heart". She always somehow simply explained everything, why certain things happen ... - Their whole life now is taking care of you. It is very important to them that you grow up to be a good person. They will be proud of you. You take care of them. When you turn from a small sun into a big hot, hot sun, they will really need your warm rays, your love and care ... But as long as they are alive, you will always be a child, and they will always need you, always love .. .

He stood petrified and looked at the wooden cross, the tablet, the flowers, feeling how half a ton of ominous irreversibility, mixed with the treacherous lightness of a spring day, a chirping discordant grove, lies with all its unbearable ruthless mass on his young shoulders.

- Son? Daughter?
Maria turned around.
- I'm sorry, what?
- I ask, looking out for whom?

With undisguised curiosity, she examined the wiry, lean, tanned body in an old wheelchair with strange "author's" devices, her interlocutor, involuntarily trying to determine his age and the reason for being in this "boarding house".

- Son. “Not in the mood for conversation,” she answered dryly.
“A torn piece,” said the man in the wheelchair with a sigh.
- Sorry? Maria did not immediately understand the course of his thoughts.
- I say, the son is like a torn piece. The people say so. You grow up, you don’t sleep at night, you invest your soul, and he grows up and flies out of the nest ...

She looked at him, realizing that she did not want this communication at all. Her heart sank so tightly, pinching her thoughts and feelings into a tight tangle of faded memories. They were the only ones she had left. Somewhere in the depths of her inner night, in the light of the bright moon-soul, she understood that she was simply clinging to this hope, not wanting to let go, not wanting to put up, to admit. She found countless excuses and excuses, but she never asked that ominous, and cutting off all her shaky arguments in favor of her son, the question "Why?" She understood that the answer to it would be that naked, frozen truth, the very accidental thought of which had caused her unbearable pain in recent years.

“Thank you,” Maria turned again to the man in the amusingly arranged wheelchair, but she already found him famously turning his transport around, and already looking after the rapidly retreating wheelchair, she added almost in a whisper:
- I know.

She was transferred to this nursing home, either with a mocking or with a funny name "Merry Snail" the week before last, since their "boarding house", as they used to call it with "girls", the new government closed due to lack of funds for maintenance , which no one did anyway, except for occasional donations before the elections, sincere visiting volunteers and kind local residents of the next two villages. The building was very dilapidated, but they felt comfortable in it, they somehow got used to it, became friends ... And now everyone was “stuffed” somewhere, like old rags, in free corners. And almost no one knew who would be assigned where. And she was taken to the edge of geography, generally alone, since there weren’t many places here, to a village whose name she couldn’t remember.

And why should she remember it, no one will even look for her here. For two and a half years of her life in the old "boarding house" Valerka never came again. When he brought her there, she said goodbye to him until the day after tomorrow ... which never came for her.

Baba Musya came once, last year, and from her she knows that he is alive and well, they made repairs, bought a new car, Lenochka was already in the fourth grade, and Volodka won a scholarship to some foreign college. She then greedily asked about her son and grandchildren, until Baba Musya could stand it and blurted out:

- Yes, everything, Marusha, everything she knew, she told. After all, he doesn’t come in now, that’s all, he says, there is a lot of work, a lot, he gets tired, everything is business, business ... Yes, and thank God. Don't be offended by me, Marusha, but... It may be, as you say, "he proposed, and you agreed"... But the blood is dear, as it is with my mother, I don’t understand this. Come on, it’s up to you, who is hard to live with, they are young, they want to be apart, okay, this can be understood, but ... it’s immoral, to send the mother to a nursing home ... Forgive me, Lord, if I don’t understand what ... and neither never visit your mother ... He is a little bastard, forgive me, an old, evil fool ... Forgive me, Marusha ...

And she chirped in response:
- No, no, Bab Musya, he is very good, hardworking, well, it’s crowded, really, we were, and I was sick all the time, and there were kids. Yes, and they are young, they also want to live, it fell to us all ... and let them live a normal life. Thank God, he is alive and well, and the children are healthy ... How much do we need, Grandmother Mus? And you say yourself, he has no time for anything. I am like a ballast to him. And here we have a very spiritual company, we feel good here, the staff is more or less, it was worse in the hospital. But nothing here ... Tolerable ... You, Bab Mus ... tell him hello, tell him everything is fine with me. And when the time comes, let him come, I will wait ... Tell me not to worry, everything is fine ... How are you yourself, Baba Musya? How are the legs?

Baba Musya listened in silence, shaking her head in understanding. Then she spoke dryly about ailments:
"Where can you get away from them?" Old age is not a friendly friend. It is already hard to go to Semyon's grave. Here, I got out to you, otherwise it’s not even an hour, I’ll die, and we won’t see each other. It became scary, I got ready, but I went. Fortunately, there are many good people who gave a ride, who suggested. It's a bit far, of course... You've lost a lot of weight, Marusha. Maybe it’s good here, but there are houses at home ... I don’t understand this, forgive me. It would be nice if there were no children ...

“Everyone here is like that ...” Maria suddenly breathed softly.
- What kind? Baba Musya did not understand.
“People…like me…Waiting…some for a son, some for a daughter. Only those who do not have ... or no memory ... They are happy, sometimes it seems to me ...

- Oh, Mashenka, Mashenka ... - and Baba Musya burst into tears.
- Bab Mus, what are you, my dear? I'm so glad you came. So glad... Do you want me to show you our garden? Do you want fresh milk? The locals bring us all kinds of goodies all the time, such kind people and old people live here. Also, I'll tell you, they themselves stayed, the young almost all went to the cities, poverty in the villages ... Or they drink ... But how do you leave the economy? Here they pamper us, either with milk, or honey, or fruits and vegetables ... Nothing, you can live. Yes, and the girls are good, we became friends ...

- Are you going to sleep by the window? - Maria heard the familiar voice of a recent interlocutor. Dinner has already begun. Come on, girlfriend, come on, pick up the ruffles and - to the canteen! he commanded uncompromisingly.

At first she felt some kind of protest, even, but turning around, she immediately went limp. This time, a clean-shaven, combed, even she thought handsome man was sitting in a wheelchair, in an ironed shirt, buttoned neatly with all buttons.

“Yes,” he said, as if in response to her thoughts, “I am a man, even though I am on a throne on wheels, and I don’t go to the dining room like a homeless bum.” Especially when there are so many women around.

"Do you charm everyone, Stepanych?" - loudly and cheerfully, passing by along the corridor, shouted the elder sister, a lively and kind woman. Maria was very glad that when she was “assigned” here, it was she. Her replacement was a gloomy and not talkative woman, although someone has already said that she is also a good person.

- Verochka, what would you do without us? Stepanych turned his whole carriage in her direction.

- You, Maria Nikolaevna, do not look that Mikhal Stepanych is on transport, he is our enviable groom, a favorite. Turner of the fourth category! And a master of all trades, out, he made himself some adaptations!

And Verochka laughed loudly. Stopping in the aisle and leaning on a birch tree painted on the wall, which still remembers a kindergarten here, which, already abandoned, was quickly converted into a nursing home nine years ago, without even changing the name.

- He is with us ... zhintelment.
"Gentleman, Verochka," Stepanych corrected her, apparently not for the first time. Verochka laughed and disappeared behind the doors of the corridor.

“Look, I won’t bother you,” he turned to Maria Stepanych, “But ... people here are different, fates are different, and almost everyone has the same reasons ... Therefore, when you get used to it, I’m in the left wing, in the seventh room, if I needed... Everyone here had their first days and weeks. You'll get used to it... The main thing is to learn how to live here, not there...

And Stepanych pointed with his index finger somewhere behind him, behind his back. Maria involuntarily shifted her gaze in the direction of the finger, realizing where the symbolic gesture was pointing, but for a while her gaze wandered stray over the stands, charts and posters on the wall of the corridor, behind gentleman Stepanych.

Stepanych's face was still before her eyes. She tried to read in his wrinkles, as if by a guidebook of life, what kind of life he had and how he got here?

Slowly reaching her room, Maria wearily sat down on the bed, flooded with playful rays of the sun, so gentle and persistent as that day ... In memory, frame by frame, the movie of her life was spinning softly and silently, she was the only spectator in her cinema hall, who paid with their lives for one single seat at the big screen. She remembered almost all episodes except the last one. Memory is such an incomprehensible, unpredictable and unfaithful companion. She may be frivolous with yesterday, but she will not give you peace of mind with the minute-by-minute certainty of an event fifty years ago ...

Recently, Maria often returned to that sunny Sunday afternoon, when she, a young sparkle and laughter, stood at the bus stop waiting for her bus, excited and enthusiastic - for the first time since she came to the city to study, she went with her friends to the theatre. Not far from her, the Volga slowed down smoothly and, turning back a little, stopped in front of her. And a young smiling driver in a flashy fashionable cap addressed her directly:

Maria only smiled in response and shook her head negatively, turned away from the guy, looking out for her bus, as if from this he could come faster. The guy got out of the car, and she felt a tickling chill swept between her shoulder blades down her back and slipped down her shoulders, exhausted, into her fingertips. A strange and unfamiliar feeling. He was a tall, very handsome and handsome young man. Without ceasing to smile, he walked around the car, opened the door on her side and accompanied by an inviting gesture, softly said:

- Please, princess, in my modest pumpkin carriage. I promise, before twelve, she will not turn into a tavern.

“Don't be afraid, princess. You are safe. - And somehow she immediately calmed down, continuing to smile awkwardly for some time. Then she attributed all this to the fact that she got into such a car for the first time, the first time she was addressed like that, the first time a young man looked at her like that, and the first time she found out that there were phenomena completely unknown to her in her body ...

Mitya... Mitya.. forty-one difficult years of a difficult marriage... If then, she had managed to control herself, with her strangely behaving body, with this girlish confusion, how would her life have turned out? She did not know the answer, but now she felt with all her old and naughty body that she definitely would not be here ...

“Mariyka,” her neighbor, Klavdia Shulzhenko, as everyone called her for her incredible voice and singing, entered the room. And it seemed to everyone that she performed the songs of Claudia Shulzhenko especially delightfully. But these were simply “their” songs, the songs on which they grew up, lived, loved, created, quarreled and reconciled, fell in love and created families, raised children and believed in a brighter future ... Her name was really Claudia, and the name Shulzhenko stuck to her by herself. - Look what the bunny gave you.

“Thank you,” Maria said quietly, feeling how hard it was for her to return from this day each time.

One step, just one step ... which turned, replayed, rewrote, distorted uninvitedly, uninvitedly, her whole life. Like all girls of her age, she often drew pictures of her future life for herself, but there weren’t such ... there were definitely none ... No, she obviously did not regret anything. But why now does she feel that she has lived some kind of life that is not her own? Did she give birth, raise and love with all her heart not her son? Buried not her husband? Sits not on his bed, not his house, surrounded by good people, but not his people, not in his place? And perhaps she deprived someone of this place, to whom it would be salvation, with a few more sips of life ...

So irresistibly I wanted to see Valerka. Son ... It seemed to her that it would be better for him, so she agreed, although she thought that after all the idea was not his, he was very embarrassed and confusedly explained all this. He repeated all the time that later, when her health improved, they would take her back to them. Although, this was already her house, in which she lived for the last thirty-six years and with which almost her entire life was connected ... Of course, she could not agree and he would not insist, it seemed to her ... She missed him very much, often recalled , how funny he was in childhood, she kept his children's crafts and homemade gifts to her and her father, drawings, photographs and even a button from his shirt, which he himself volunteered to sew, but never did. How small he hid in her palms, believing that it was impossible to hide more reliably, how often he hugged her, childishly tightly. She so wanted to hug him now, to hold his hand, to pat her father's naughty mop of thick hair. Maria often imagined this, and she felt better. I imagined their meeting ... How he would enter and, without any preamble, from the threshold he would say: “That’s it, get ready, mother, we’re going home!” She wanted to hear his matured voice, to see his eyes with her beautiful long eyelashes, and - home, she really wanted to go home, to her native walls ... When he was little, he once told her that when she was an old grandmother and she did not will teeth, he will chew her food. She laughed a lot as she imagined it. Maria was very proud of him ... He somehow pulled away after his marriage, sometimes it seemed to her that he was shy of her ...

She recalled how Volodenka was born, he was a small copy of Valerochka, and how her life was again filled with a child and a children's wonderful world. She could no longer sit with Lenochka, could not help, as before, her health had deteriorated completely and she herself already needed care sometimes ...

Maria's thoughts did not shy away from pain, they methodically, according to an old habit, expressed their opinion in her tired head, filled with noise and hum of pressure. And who just came up with this stupidity that something can be done to make old age carefree? Who hammered this anti-natural nonsense into people's heads, as if something could challenge this inevitable, irreversible process of life? “Take care of your old age,” Maria remembered a poster of some bank or clinic along the road. Old age does not come on the same day marked on the calendar. How to prepare for it? How can one deal with it? Is it possible to somehow take care of her? ... But how tangibly it could be eased ... family, love, participation and understanding of loved ones ... And carefree old age is a cowardly, far-fetched absurdity.

Old age is a helpless and hopeless resignation to the terms of the contract, which is signed with life by everyone who has chosen it for himself "long and happy." And this is what is easier to live in a family and doubly hard alone. But it is inevitable - to live ... And here - the same "alone". There is such a concentration of loneliness and disappointment here that even kind people who occasionally come across cannot brighten up the gloomy tones and halftones of a colorless picture, even your own optimism, glorified senile wisdom, all the zeal that you applied to your health - everything methodically quickly collapses and crumbles, like crumbly biscuits, in places like this. And you become a voluntary prisoner and hostage of your memories, pain and, already nowhere to fit in, nowhere to hide, senile loneliness ...

Marika, what are you doing? You’ve completely unglued something ... Well, well, nothing, and we’ll survive it! - Claudia lightly and supportively patted Maria on the shoulder, and putting the pies on the table, she sat down on the bed next to Maria, and hugged her shoulders. - Let's go to us, the weather is good today, let's go, there grandmothers are now preparing a scene for the holiday ...

Maria shook her head negatively, she had no strength at all.

- My soul, a person should not be alone. And older people even more so. Let's go ... The company is still more fun. Let's go, Mariyka, otherwise you'll become quite an old woman.

And Claudia laughed softly. Maria smiled, she had already felt like an old woman for a long time.

- And the old people ... - Claudia turned to Maria, looked at her and seriously continued, - Lonely old people live as long as their memories live ...

Maria looked at Claudia’s kind face and realized that this is how she has been living lately, with memories ... But Claudia smiled and with her amazing voice dragged on “her own, Shulzhenkov’s” repertoire:

"To that big one, to the crossroads,
I don't have to go anymore.

Life without love can be easy
But how can you live without love in the world?

Let love deceive you
Don't value it
Let her become sad
But how can one live without love in the world? ... "

Eight months have passed. In the "Merry Snail" all walking and non-walking inhabitants were preparing for a joyful event. To the wedding of Stepanych. Finally, he proposed to Claudia, whom he courted for six years, most of the time she was here. They were both lonely and battered by life, but they managed to save grains of spiritual warmth and care in order to revive this incomprehensible magic in their hearts - love. The occasional sponsor of the Merry Snail, a prominent "mafia" authority, as he was perceived by the locals, organized a serious program with artists and folklore for this occasion. He helped the house when he came here, but he did not visit these parts regularly. It was rumored that he himself was from these places, and allegedly an orphan, who was sheltered and raised by kind old people from a neighboring village. And he had some kind of sympathy for Stepanych and often liked to talk with him in the garden "for life."

Among the guests and local guests walked a tall young guy with a backpack and coarse hiking boots, looking like a foreign tourist who was brought here by mistake. He peered and looked at all this old amusing corps de ballet. Stepanych, noticing the "tourist", rolled out to him along an earthen path from the alley.

Who are we looking for, young man?
The guy turned around and, fiddling with the crumpled envelope in his hands, awkwardly bending down, embarrassed by the height of his height, stammeringly answered:
- Grandmother ... I'm looking for my grandmother.
- Does your grandmother have a name? Stepanych asked calmly, looking at the envelope, which was exactly opposite his eyes. And suddenly his heart sank painfully. From the last lines of the return address, it was crumpled: “Village Snail” and below: “Gayeva Marie”
- Grandmother Masha ... Maria ... Maria Polegaeva ... Nikolaevna ... Maria Nikolaevna Polegaeva.
- She wrote...
- Yes, that is, no, that is .. - The young man looked very confused, he was excited and it was noticeable that everything he saw and heard greatly impressed him.
- Don't worry so much. There is no need anymore. Before, you should have been worried. - And Stepanych felt his voice stray and a treacherous lump appeared in his throat. He covered his eyes with his hand.
“I would really like to see her. I came from another ... I study in ... In general, it doesn’t matter ... We just moved to another city ... I, in general ... I came to meet my classmates ... Well ... - Stepanych did not interrupt his confused speech. He controlled himself and patiently listened to the guy's attempts to explain something that he considered necessary to tell. “I… somehow miss our home sometimes and… went there the next day… a woman gave me this letter… More precisely… there are only two sentences… Can I see my grandmother?”
"Yes, of course," Stepanych answered calmly. And, without uttering another word, he went along the path to a small gate on the back of the house, beyond which a birch grove was visible. The guy silently followed him, looking around and looking at everything that caught his eye ...

- Then you go on your own. Immediately behind that old birch, there will be a bench from a log house ... - The guy took off and literally ran in the indicated direction. “There you go…” Stepanych finished to himself. He slowly turned the stroller around and drove towards his beloved, trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings.

Having reached the old birch, the young man stopped to take a breath and calm down a little the excitement that had overwhelmed him. He had so much in his heart and soul. He imagined how he would hug his grandmother now. Everything will tell. He will come up with something to pick her up, take her to him, he will take care of her ... He slowly turned to a massive bench from a log house and stood in his tracks. A moment later, on wadded legs, he approached the bench. With the last step, a small wooden cross and a neat mound next to it were already quite clearly visible. There were fresh flowers on the grave, and around the grown bushes of boxwood. He raised his eyes to the cross and read on a small tablet the carefully, beautifully engraved name of his grandmother and numbers… two dates, between which a dash is an engraved life, now fitting into one small dash…

He felt like an accomplice in crime...

“Volodenka, my dear granddaughter, never offend or be offended by your parents, they love you very much, even when they are strict or not as you would like ...” Volodya suddenly remembered a conversation in a whisper with his grandmother, when his parents punished him for a misconduct, and he stood in the corner and cried from the resentment that had seized him, and as a child he was very angry with them that they, already an adult guy, as he believed, were not allowed to walk and were not allowed to watch their favorite TV show. And then the grandmother came and quietly hugged and reassured him, talking with him "heart to heart". She always somehow simply explained everything, why certain things happen ... - Their whole life now is taking care of you. It is very important to them that you grow up to be a good person. They will be proud of you. You take care of them. When you turn from a small sun into a big hot sun, they will really need your warm rays, your love and care ... But as long as they are alive, you will always be a child, and they will always need them, and always love ...

All parts of the popular Online Games walkers. A cheerful and funny hero constantly gets into unexpected situations. His journeys are often difficult, but under the guidance of a skilled person, there is always a way out. We suggest you try to go through each part of the popular flash game. Learn how to solve logic puzzles correctly to guide your character to the next level. The passage is colorful and fun, good graphics will please all lovers of adventure games. Snail Bob games for girls and boys have become one big exciting adventure. Start completing quests from the first part and try to get to the final. Expect new games that will be available for free!

The new adventures of the popular hero will take place on a warm island where you have to run away from enemies and bypass all the traps. Gameplay at a high level!

A popular adventure game where you can find out new history and take part in adventures. Actions take place in winter, new traps have appeared.

Fifth part popular game done with good graphics. The protagonist again goes in search of adventure and meets his only love.

Play funny adventures Bob's snails good quality in Russian everyone can. It has high-quality graphics and a large number of levels. During the passage constantly need to solve a variety of logical puzzles. Often you have to think for a long time to find an incredible solution from a banal situation. It is this feature that has become especially attractive to gamers around the world. For each part of the online game, the developers have come up with an interesting storyline, where the protagonist gets into a bind. As a result, a responsible mission is assigned to the shoulders of the players - to help Bob get out of the trap, and at the same time help his friends.

All parts of Snail Bob

A series of free flash games for boys and girls created in the adventure genre. All parts of the online game are made in Russian. The main character is a small cheerful snail named Bob. Each time he manages to get into unusual alterations, from where it is difficult to find a way out. Initially, the character is not an adventurous person, he tries his best to live in peace, without attracting unnecessary problems to his head. Bob likes to spend time in his house, drinking tea by the big window. He loves his family and friends, always rushes to their holidays and helps in all difficult cases. But fate constantly throws up new difficult trials for our hero, from where it can be very difficult to get out.

Each part of the online game is prepared in good quality and involves a separate storyline where the snail Bob finds new adventures. First, a small flash movie is shown so that you can understand the situation, and then the execution of numerous levels begins. During the passage, you must use a variety of items and mechanisms to free the road and make it safe for the character. Most of the levels are based on the player's ability to apply logic and intuition. If the initial stages are simple and filled with hints, then further tasks can be quite difficult. Sometimes you have to think outside the box to find a solution.

The page contains all parts of the Snail Bob game, open for girls and boys without registration. You can go through them sequentially, recognizing interesting story the main character, who always finds himself in funny situations. Passage is available for free, so you can enjoy interesting levels to your heart's content. New games will be constantly added as they are released. Help snail Bob cope with all the tasks, everyone will like to play!

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