My strange friend. Volume 1. "The Book of Flame" Prologue

           You will be a military man...

"You will be a military man," repeated a middle-aged man in a military uniform several times, looking sternly at the boy standing in front of him.

"But the military kill people! I don't want to kill anyone!" from the lips of a little boy such words sounded unexpectedly.

The man's face darkened.

"In our family, everyone is a military. It's honorable. Our family is proud of this. And you should be proud of it!" seeing that the boy wanted to object, the man added, "go, it has already been decided. You should be proud you will be a man of arms."

The intelligent eyes of the child looked into the eyes of the father. In the depths of his son's gaze, he read the word "No!" it began to anger him. The boy was still so small, but no longer obeyed his will. Where did it come from in him? Their family, all the men in it, were military men, and it was considered an honor. But now his son told him things that no one had ever dared to say. His son, his youngest son! Why is he like that?

"Go. And think carefully what you are saying," the man paused, and then uttered the words that sounded like a sentence, - you will be a military man!"

The boy did not argue anymore, he turned and, leaving, imperceptibly wiped the tears of resentment from his eyes. Leaving the house, he took the bike.

The bike ride distracted him from his sad thoughts. He imagined that this was not a bicycle, but a horse - real, big and he was riding it through the forest. He deliberately rode along a forest path, the unevenness of which and the protruding tree roots tossed the bike, and these exciting sensations, as it seemed to him, of riding a horse.

The forest ended, he rode through the field between the ears of ripening wheat. Ahead, swallows flew low over the road:

"It probably means rain," the boy thought.

He stopped by a small pond, partially overgrown with reeds and low bushes. The surface of the pond reflected the sky and rare clouds. It was a summer afternoon. The sun was at its zenith. Grasshoppers chirped in the grass. Huge dragonflies circled over its surface, looking for their prey.

The boy sat down at the edge of the pond, a bicycle lying nearby. He mentally imagined that this was his horse, which was now drinking water and eating grass next to him. These thoughts made him not so lonely - after all, his faithful friend was next to him.

His thoughts drifted back to the last conversation with his father. There were many such conversations. At first, everyone laughed at his objections, thinking that he was small and did not understand what he was saying, but then - he felt it internally - they began to perceive him differently.

Mom - he loves her so much. But why does he feel that she shuns him? He sees with what love she treats his two older brothers and his sister, what spiritual sincerity occurs between them when they communicate. And with him - after all, she also says gentle words to him, but only inside he feels cold...

When did everything change? From the moment when he shared with his people that he did not want to be a military man, like everyone else in his family.

No, he is deceiving himself; it started earlier - from the very moment of his conscious perception of himself and those around him. Even then, he felt the rejection of him. He always felt it. Probably, true feelings cannot be replaced with fake ones. He became an outcast, loner.

At first, he tried to fix it. He tried to be closer to them, although their conversations, discussions, and events in their lives, did not attract. It was not interesting and boring for him. But he pretended that he was interested, he tried to be with them.

In order to break down the rapidly growing wall of misunderstanding between him and his family, he began to share with them his experiences, thoughts, feelings, believing that his sincerity will tear down this wall.

But he was wrong! They did not understand him. They understood at all: neither his dreams, nor his experiences, nor his thoughts. His desire to be one with them turned into the exact opposite. He became an outcast. He became completely alien to them. It was painful for him to understand that he was different, that he thought, dreamt, and perceived the world differently. And this was unacceptable in their family.

In an instant, the wall that he tried to destroy turned into an impregnable barrier that he would never be able to destroy in his life...

His eyes became wet again with tears, everything inside was squeezed painfully.

"Mom, Dad, why? I love you so much!"

The boy cried, looking into the bottomless blue of the sky. His soul cried, never having found the warmth of family love, a lonely soul, suffering in misunderstanding, for which they did not love it...

Then he wiped away the tears with his hand. There was a new feeling inside him. He realized that nothing could be fixed, nothing could be changed. He must be strong. He would be strong!

"I swear I'll never cry again," the boy said, looking into the depths of the blue sky.

Footsteps were heard behind, the boy turned. On the path, a teenager, much older than him was standing.

"What are you doing here? This is my place - I fish here," said the teenager, holding fishing rods in one hand and a bucket in the other.

"It’s not written here that this is your place. I want and will be here," the boy snapped, getting up and preparing for a fight.

The teenager stared at the boy. The superiority in power was clearly not on the side of the boy, who was small and puny. There were only big, green eyes. But what a fearless - real boy!

"I have an extra fishing rod, we can go fishing together," said the teenager calmly, passing by the boy, "by the way, my name is Prokhor."

"Kai," the boy growled, still expecting an attack.

"Strange name."

"I hate it."

"Why?"

"Because everybody says when they hear it like you: "a strange name," the boy said angrily.

"Then I won’t say like that anymore," Prokhor said very seriously, "and will you stand there? Take the fishing rod!"

"I don't know how to fish."

Prokhor laughed.

"Is it true?" but, seeing the confused look of Kai with a fishing rod in his hand, he calmly said, "I will teach you!"

***

In the evening, when the caught fish splashed in the bucket, Kai said that it was time for him to return home. Prokhor nodded in understanding and held out his hand.

"Will you come tomorrow? I'll go fishing here again."

"I'll come!"

"So, now we will fish together ..."

Returning home by bike, Kai smiled happily, realizing that he was not alone in this world. He found the same as he - an outcast, a loner, someone who no one understood and did not accept.

On that day, they talked a lot, talked about their lives, and shared their thoughts and dreams with each other. On that day, each of them realized that he had found a friend, a friend for life...

Only one thing darkened that day - these were the words sounding in Kai's ears:

"You will be a military man!"

 

The sand of time. Volume 2. The Book of Flame

 

The sand of time. Volume 2. "The Book of Flame"

Prologue

A few years earlier ...

The plane was falling. He felt it with every cell of his body, as if he were one with this wounded machine, fighting in the air for its life. Such wounds inflicted on a huge beast flying through space were incompatible with life. Kai understood that. But he fought, fought to the last.

Fuel leaked from the holes, leaving the huge body drained of blood. The last growls, coughs, groans, and sobs came from a motor beating in death throes.

"Don't die, my friend in battle! You've saved me in this battle, save me now! Do not take with you to this endless blue sky! I want to live so much!"

Kai did the incredible - they were still flying. He kept the machine in the air with the last of his strength. Then he began to descend, realizing that there was no other way out. Beneath them, there was a desert. An endless eternal desert of sand. They couldn't cross it.

The machine was dying. It was dying in his arms. A few more moments - and he would hear the last death whine of the motor - then the end would come for both of them.

It was going down. Now the main thing was to have time to touch the ground, or rather the sand before the engines were turned off.

The earth was rapidly approaching. The machine groaned, vibrated in its death throes.

"Darling, be patient! A little more!"

A tail of smoke lay behind them. Flames flared up, licking the metal, and then extinguished, blown out by air currents.

The plane, like a shooting star, left a trail of smoke in the blue sky.

The surrounding space looked indifferently at the struggle for the lives of two - a huge plane and a man in it.

The plane touched the sand and came into contact with this surface at great speed. They were covered from above by the sand wave lifted by the plane. There was a rumble in his ears. Kai was thrown from side to side in the chair he was strapped to. The plane began to roll over. He heard the groans of twisted metal in his ears - the final scream of a dying machine. And then everything disappeared. Rather, it disappeared for him. He lost consciousness, lost touch with reality, time dissolved for him ...

The plane was moving forward by inertia for some time, but, getting deeper into the sand dunes, it stopped and froze. The tons of sand he had lifted into the air began to return back. This sand, it saved them, it extinguished the flame, strangled the fire, not allowing it to flare up with renewed vigor. There was no ammunition on the plane, they were all used up in the battle. The remaining fuel leaked out into the air. The dead bomber lay in the sand under the arch of the sky, indifferent to everything that was happening.

Silence reigned in the desert. Perfect silence, the silence of dead space.

***

Kai felt cold. There was an impenetrable void all around.

"That's all ... This is the end!"

No! Everything would not end so easily in his life!

He unbuckled the straps holding him in the chair and fell out of it, rolling to the door. The floor was now tilted at a steep angle as the plane was lying on its side.

For a long time, he tried to get out of this black vacuum around him. Bumping into objects with hands, he remembered what it was and where it was located, and so gradually he moved towards the exit.

He felt no pain, he felt fear. Fear of the darkness around and the fear of staying in it - in this darkness - forever. Therefore, he crawled, clung to objects, but did not stop, just to see at least a spark of light.

All the wiring was shorted from impact and damage, the backup bulbs did not light either. There was nothing at hand that could give even a spark of light, not even his lighter - he did not take it, he forgot it at the headquarters ...

The fear increased due to the silence around. Only his breathing and the rustle of his movement, and then silence. It enveloped from all sides.

"How strange ..." he managed to open the side door with almost no effort. The cold air hit his face. He stepped forward and fell to the sand, then slowly rolled onto his back.

Above him stretched a huge vault of the night sky. There were myriads of stars, the Milky Way, points of movement of satellites, and flashes of lights of flying aircraft. The southern sky - there is nothing more beautiful than it. He froze, mesmerized by this beauty.

He did not know how much time had passed. Now the time became unimportant for him. Time is important to those who live among people. People have invented time to subjugate the space around, but it has turned out the other way around. Space became a time, a short time of their life. Here, in a space without people, there was no time, there was nothing, only sand and a huge night sky going into infinity.

It's cold in the desert at night. This coldness had a healing effect on Kai. His body soaked up the cold, and the pain from the blows gradually faded away. Then he realized that he was starting to freeze. Then he crawled back into the dead car and closed the door. A gloomy vacuum of darkness thickened around him. But now it didn't scare him. Closing his eyes, he saw the stars in the night sky. He is not alone; he is only a grain of sand among a myriad of stars. A small star that fell from the sky into this desert ...

***

He woke up from the heat. He seemed to be inhaling hot sand. Kai crawled to the door and opened it. The bright light blinded, and the heat of the hot air swallowed him into its embrace. When his eyes got used to the light, he got out of the plane and looked around.

On the sand, half-buried, lay a huge military bomber. Small parts of it were scattered during its braking. But, surprisingly, the plane was practically not injured, although it could fly to pieces. Now the sand of the desert was gently covering its dead body with its soft veil. Not completely yet. But soon the desert would swallow it into arms and give it an eternity of oblivion in this sand.

And the desert would give him eternity.

How long would he live here? He knew that inside the plane there was a small supply of water and maybe something from a dry ration. Later, he would go looking for anything that would prolong his life.

And then, what would happen next ...

There was a desert around. He roughly knew the square of his fall. There was nothing and no one here. No one was ever here.

Should he collect everything and go ahead? This is what fools do. The desert in a couple of days would kill him with the heat of the day and the cold at night. There was a shadow from the plane here, where he could wait out the heat and the plane itself, where he could flee from the night cold.

"Thank you!" Kai put his hand on the metal of the side, "You've died, you can no longer be saved. Your injuries are fatal. No one can bring you back to life. So sleep here, my friend, who has fought to the last for my life. And now I will stay with you. I will be here by your side, I will guard your peace, your sleep until I fall asleep myself. And then only the sky will know where our lives have disappeared ... "

But now he was still alive. And life was wonderful. How beautiful the desert is! This is majestic infinity. It is a sea of ​​sand with soft waves extending beyond the horizon. It is the blue of the endless sky. It was such a bright sunny day.

Kai sat on the sand in the shadow of the plane, leaning his back against its side, and recalled his such short life ...

Platform Begovaya. Book I. Chapter 10

            The apartment of Havre, the son of Sarychev, was located approximately ninety kilometers from Oxford or an hour’s drive by car. But it suited him. He was tired of living in the suburbs of Oxford. And now, when his main training was over, and he could attend Oxford University, not every day, Havre preferred to rent an apartment in the elite area of London. London attracted him with its life, energy, people, and movement. Although conservative England was felt here in everything, it seemed, the city itself was living a different life as if having shaken off this touch of snobbery and age-old foundations, and cast prudence to the winds and plunged into the maelstrom of modern life. Havre also rushed into this whirlpool. Nothing held him and did not stop him. The parents, having sent him to England at school age, provided him with everything. Havre always had money, and in any quantity. Therefore, he did not see the point in denying himself anything. And why, we live in fact once.

And he tried everything. But he had a head on his shoulders. He categorically removed drugs from his life having tried them once. He saw those who got hooked on them. No, it was not his way. He loved to manage his life and did not want to depend on anyone or anything. He would never allow any junk to dictate to him how to live. Another thing was alcohol. With the help of it, he could relax well, but at the same time, it did not cause him any dependence. Well, he knew the measure. Youthful maximalism had passed a long time ago. There was a period when he tried many different kinds of alcoholic drinks from the endless sea. And he concluded that to vomit in the morning, and then lie all day with a headache, this was not his way. Now he drank, but he clearly analyzed what and how much. He already knew his dose and his measure and no longer ventured with too much drinking, considering it to be a stupid and childish act.

In addition to all of the above, in a comfortable and free life of Havre, there was sex. Yes, he had the opportunity to try everything in sex. He had no morals or limits. Well, they were. It was what he wanted and loved, and what he did not accept. He wanted and loved everything in sex. There were different perversions, group sex, hard sex, whips, masks, hanging. In his bed, there were gays and lesbians, as well as Mulattoes, Negros, Asians. He accepted everything in sex, but not in relation to himself. He was ready to look at all this, but he was engaged in this sex with certain limitations. In relation to himself, he does not accept all these bullyings with these whips and masks, he gladly participated in group sex, but only in the role of the top, and in no other way. Although his study friends, the same cheeky students, the children of rich parents, assured him that he would get a lot of unforgettable feelings by allowing himself to be fucked. But here a taboo worked in Havre. He simply could not humble himself. It was one thing to fuck a girl or a guy who was copulating with another partner in a gangbang, it was really awesome, but in no other way. Well, he could not allow anyone to shove a member in his ass and use his body for self-satisfaction. From this alone, all desire disappeared in Havre.

Therefore, he was always just on top, and this suited him perfectly. He received maximum pleasure from sex. And he also knew that he should not lose control of sex, otherwise he can be crushed by someone. Though he pretended to relax, he never trusted anyone.

That was how he lived, lived a full life, plunging into dissipation. He tried everything and had time to undergo treatment for all sorts of shameful diseases. Although he always used a condom, some frivolous infections stuck to him and he had to be treated for the consequences of this very free love.

***

That evening Havre decided to have fun with a threesome. Although no, he did not plan anything at first, but in the bar, where he was sitting and contemplating the audience dancing on the dance floor, a girl sat next to him. She was pretty, with crafty eyes and a good figure. Havre was in the mood for entertainment, and after a short talk, they went to him and on the way to his house, they met Serge, his friend at the institute. Serge was a Frenchman with Polish blood, tall, elegant and always ready for anything. And so it all happened.

All three were now lying in the bed of Havre. Serge fucked the Englishwoman, who was moaned from his thrusts in her, and Havre fucked Serge in his tight ass. It was exciting, the debauchery, which occurred in all its depravity, and from this, it was, even more, a feeling of sweetness from what was happening.

The Englishwoman groaned and went limp. Serge began to lean heavily on her, and Havre, feeling muscle spasms on his penis in his friend ass, came off from the look of these two and the sensation of sex in which he took part.

Then the nirvana came, in which the three of them, lying on the bed, smoked and looked at the ceiling above themselves. This sweet nirvana was interrupted by an insistent doorbell.

It was strange because it was late, and only those who knew the code could enter the entrance. From this Havre concluded that, probably, the neighbors from downstairs or adjacent apartments, once again hearing the too loud groans or creaks of his bed, came to hint to him about the silence and order in their decent house.

Havre got up reluctantly and, putting on trousers and a shirt, went to open the door.

Nikolai Evgenievich, a friend of his father, and three other men, whom he did not know, were standing on the threshold. Havre was confused, but he kept a calm look on his face and, greeting, invited them to enter.

“Are you alone?” asked Nikolai Evgenievich, hearing laughter and voices from the bedroom. “There is a serious conversation.”

Havre nodded in understanding and, taking the guests to the large living room, walked into the bedroom. There, in a voice that did not have objections, he asked the naked lovers lying on the bed to get dressed and leave. This statement was not particularly embarrassing. It could be seen, they were set to continue the evening. Continuing to talk noisily, they got dressed, seized a bottle of champagne and, going out into the hallway, where, not hesitating the men in the living room, took turns kissing Havre on the lips and left.

Havre also, without being embarrassed, came back to the living room with a calm face and lit a cigarette, turned to his father's friend, thereby showing that he was all attentive. The man paused, looking at the guy standing in front of him. He remembered him as a boy when he was running through his summer cottage in the Moscow region. Even then, little Gavrilka was always with broken knees, running everywhere, and constantly creating problems for all because of his living character. Now he was standing in front of a twenty-five young man, tall, with a good sports figure. It was obvious that he was well-groomed. His brown hair was now matted and not combed. They fell on his dark olive eyes. Even in the form in which they found Havre, he was handsome, masculine, strength, power, and character were felt in him. His face was not beautiful. It was correct, masculine, and with age he would become that same type of men, from the appearance of which women go crazy, feeling in them that male power and aura of power, which should be in a real male.

“A dead ringer for his father,” thought Nikolai Evgenievich, then he became sad and finally said what for he came here from Moscow late at night.

“Your father was murdered. Last week. He has already been buried. He was shot. Sit down ... I'll tell you more in detail now.”

Nikolai Evgenievich appreciated how Havre was carrying himself; he, of course, saw the pain in his eyes, but there was the same calm expression on his face.

“He carries himself well, almost perfect. He deserves his father. "

Nikolai Evgenievich poured him water from a carafe standing on the table, he drank thoughtfully and spoke in a voice that had no emotions.

“Tell me. I'm waiting.”

They had a long conversation. Nikolai Evgenievich presented Havre to the men who had flown in with him. One of them was a lawyer, his name was Edward, and the other two worked for the deceased Sarychev in his business. After that, he told what had happened in Moscow recently in the affairs of his father, about the capture of his mother as a hostage, and then the cold-blooded murder of Vladimir Leonidovich. And what thereby this thug who killed his father had achieved, and how things were now with their business.

After listening to the story, Havre was silent for a long time, there were still no emotions on his face, he kept them all deep inside himself.

“I immediately return to Russia. You had no right to hide my father's death from me. I should have been at his funeral.”

“Sorry. That was my decision. But I swore to your father ... that was a long time ago. So, I swore that if something happened to him, I would do everything to save your life. I swore that I would help and take care of you as my son,” Nikolai Evgenievich paused, then continued. “If you go there, they will kill you. They do not need the heir of Sarychev alive. While you are here, and as long as you do not interfere in all this, you will not be touched. They are not interested in you. But as soon as you return and declare your rights to your father’s business, they will simply shoot your head off. Believe me, it is no England there ... now it is hell, lawlessness there. Listen to me, no matter how hard it is. They spared your mother only because she, having received a share in the business of her late husband, is a guarantor that this business will not be sunk from above, since Sarychev was respected by everyone, and no one would leave a widow without money. So your mother, like you, is provided with the shares you have been allotted. For now, be content with this. Moreover, here, in Europe, your father had three branches of his bank. You will lead them and, being here, you will manage this business. Now you need to wait. There, in Russia, and there is a massacre. You do not know the main thing. Not only this thug but also “Czechs”, Chechens, attempted to do business with your father. But Nazar, the one who killed your father, took him faster, now the Chechens will go out on him. So let them kill each other. And you will work here and wait for the time to come. And when it comes, you will return, and I will help you to take back what rightfully belongs to you.”

Havre calmly listened to everything, then got up, walked over to the window, lit a cigarette, opened the small window. Then he turned his gaze to Nikolai Evgenievich.

“How much to wait?”

“Five years. Previously, it makes no sense to return. I think in five years they will kill each other themselves, and then the one who will survive will be finished off by authorities. That is the plan. Whom they will not finish off – those will be imprisoned ... Here is such a food chain. And if you are smart, you will not get into it but will wait until you watch all this.”

Havre was clever, he understood everything, and he hid deep inside a passionate desire to avenge his father. He just, pulling on his cigarette again, thoughtfully said, “Father asked to buy a horse at auction. Did he have time to see it?”

Havre remembered the whole story when, at the request of his father, he flew to Germany for the annual auction of Hanover sports horses in May in Verdun. He did not understand this passion of his father for horses, but as an exemplary son, he always carried out his will. And when he asked to go there with a famous horse specialist to buy him a horse, he, of course, went. Then Havre could not even imagine that horses, yes, horses, cost so much. That they were being auctioned off and buyers were also “fighting” for them, raising the price. He looked indifferently at everything that happened, wrinkling his nose from the smell of horse sweat, and patiently waited for this specialist to select a horse for his father. Then he paid for this horse and agreed to send it to Russia. The amount he paid for the animal, Havre did not even want to voice in his head, believing that buying a Ferrari would be the best investment of money. But, probably, the father had already fallen into senility, since he spent so much money on a horse. Havre did not discuss all this with his father. He just did everything and, with a sense of accomplishment, returned to England. The only thing that he remembered from all this was the strange nickname of the horse - Walchensee. This is the name of the lake in Bavaria, in the vicinity of Munich, in the middle of the Bavarian Alps. This lake is famous for the clear water of sky-blue color. Back then, Havre was surprised why the completely black horse was called as a blue lake, he even specified this from the consultant who was with him. The one with a businesslike look explained that the name of the horse was given after the first letters of the name of the father and mother of the foal. Perhaps it was the only name that they were able to pick up for a newborn foal using these letters.

“Your father saw a horse ... he really liked it. He often went to it, fed with carrots, crackers...”

“Why did he need this horse? He doesn't even ride a horse. Rather, he rode in his youth, and then never sat in the saddle,”- Havre recalled his father’s figure that had become stout with age.

“For the soul…”

Havre heard this phrase from his father. He did not understand how a horse at the price of a Ferrari could be for the soul. And in general, he did not understand the fanaticism of such love for horses. He referred it again to senile marasmus, which began with his father. Thinking about it, he was glad that at least at the end of his life his father had bought something for his soul.

“What now is with the horse?”

“When the Chechens began to shake your father down, affairs looked on an ugly look. In general, the main Chechen, Shamil, took this horse for himself.”

Havre was not particularly upset, it wasn’t a big loss. It was strange that the Chechens coveted the animal at all. Although it wasn’t strange, children of the mountains, they always had horses for the soul too.

He was silent for a long time, digesting everything in himself that he had heard, then, without turning around and looking into the darkness outside the window, asked, “What, you say, is the name of the one who killed my father?”

“Nazar.”

“Nazar...”

Havre reiterated this name, knowing that the time would come and he would find him to avenge his father.

That night, having talked about the general situation in Sarychev’s business, they decided to stop until the morning. For the next few days, they had to meet more than once, so that the heir to Sarychev would take over and accept his father’s affairs.

When the unexpected guests left, Havre returned to the living room and, going to the window, was looking at the night for a long time.

He knew that a carefree life had ended forever for him. Now he had stepped over the line. It was in the past when he was a young man with rich parents who allowed his son everything. And now there was the present and the future, where he became matured during this night and realizing what death and another life were, and that now he had received everything that his father had been creating over the years of his life. And he would not fail his father, he would multiply what he did, and then would return what was rightfully his.

He was his father's son. No, he was not a stupid spoiled boy. Just all this time, he studied life but never lost his head or self-control because of all the temptations surrounding him.

Now it was his time. He, Sarychev Gavriil Vladimirovich, would become whom his father wanted to see.

“Dad, I'll take revenge for you.”

***

Nazar woke up from the delicious smell of edibles that penetrated the room. In the stomach rumbled, and in the mouth accumulated saliva. He got out of bed and quickly dressed, went into the kitchen. There, cooking was in full swing. Judging by the products on the table, the boy, apparently, had already managed to rush to the store. Nazar was surprised. He had never slept so well, and here he did not even hear anything.

Alyosha did not expect to see him in the kitchen, turning around, he almost dropped the wooden spatula from his hands.

“Hello, what, scared?”

“No ... I probably woke you up?” The guy, apparently, coped with himself and again switched to a hissing griddle.

“Yes, I usually do not sleep for so long,” Nazar glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, where the hands were approaching ten o'clock.

“Now everything is ready,” Alyosha said busily, taking the plates out of the drainer and placing them on the table.

Nazar, once again looking at all this, went to the bathroom. He felt being got enough sleep and rested. It was not only physically, but also internally as if the long-twisted constant-voltage spring was now released, and he became just a man like everyone else. In the morning he liked the delicious smell of the breakfast being prepared, this kitchenette, in which sun rays penetrated through the tulle and cast glare on the ground floor linoleum, and this Lyosha in sweatpants and T-shirt, so deftly wielding at the stove.

By the arrival of Nazar from the bathroom, on the table, there were two plates, on which scrambled eggs with slices of sausage and cheese laid. Everything was sprinkled with freshly chopped dill on the top. In a large bowl, there was a chopped salad of tomatoes and cucumbers with greens, seasoned with oil. Gently sliced bread lay in a wicker basket. The kettle was already boiling on the stove.

Alyosha waited for Nazar to sit down first at the table, and then, sitting down opposite him, he began to eat the food from his plate with pleasure.

Nazar also ate quickly and greedily. It could be seen, the body was restored after yesterday's shake.

When the tea boiled, Lyosha poured it into cups and put the sliced sausage and butter on the table.

Looking at Nazar, he asked uncertainly, “Should I make a sandwich with butter and sausage for you? I love in such a way.”

“Do it! I love that too.”

Lyosha smiled and deftly spread butter on a slice of white bread, then put the sausage on top and handed it to Nazar.

Nazar ate, surprised that everything was so tasty, or he was so hungry, or here in this house, the food was perceived somehow in a special and different way.

Finally, having satiated, Nazar sank back from the table, leaning his healthy shoulder against the wall, and watched Lyoshka cleaning and washing everything skillfully and quickly.

“Bring paper and a pen. I will write a note for Yefim.”

Alyosha quickly brought paper and a pen and continued to clean up the kitchen, and Nazar began to write.

When cleanliness and order were imposed, Alexey remembered and turned to Nazar.

“Come on, I'll tend to your shoulder.”

Nazar just nodded. Alyosha understood the order and, bringing a first-aid kit, looked at Nazar, who, getting up, took off his yesterday dark gray sweater.

Alyosha gently unwound the bandage from his shoulder. The seam on the shoulder withered. Lyosha knew that it was necessary to wash away the dried blood and process everything with a disinfecting solution. So he did to Bystryi with its cut on the flank, he concluded that the man wounds were treated the same way.

He, standing behind Nazar, began to gently wash the dried blood with moistened gauze.

Nazar had already written a message for Yefim. Overall, it was brief. Yefim should ask Alexey his home phone number, and then dial it, but not from his home, but from any phone that no one could listen to. Now they could not relax, while the situation was not in their favor and in general it was still incomprehensible.

So, thinking about it, Nazar was sitting on a stool and felt how carefully, even gently, Lyosha’s fingers touched his shoulder. He felt his presence behind him so close that the warmth of Alyosha’s body was sensed by his bare skin. Sometimes he stretched his hand for another gauze napkin, and touched bare torso too tightly, too perceptibly. And Nazar felt that every such touch responded to him precisely by the very desire that should not be, but it was.

Nazar bowed his head lower; he did not want Alexey to notice how it became swelling in his pants. That was how he sat, struggling with the desire to jump up and stop this incomprehensible madness, which increasingly covered him. And at the same time, he did not want it to stop. He had not felt in himself for a long time such a desire, which for some reason, contrary to everything, arose in him. But it was not only a physical desire, no, but it was also something more. It was as if he dissolved in intimacy with the guy, feeling his warmth, his breathing, his touch, all this responded in his soul with a strange feeling unknown to him until now...

Alyosha was concentrating on the sewn scar on Nazar’s shoulder. He tried to think only about what he was doing, but he did not do so well. Even as soon as Nazar took off his sweater, and Lyosha saw his body, he exhaled admiringly and then tried to breathe more quietly, coping with his heartbeat. Probably, yesterday, against the background of stress, everything that was happening was perceived differently. But today, when he saw this relief of muscles, these hands with protruding biceps, not large, but sufficient to give the whole body of Nazar masculinity and strength, and this back, and such a smooth skin, even the ugly scar he worked on did not spoil him - everything gave Nazar exactly the courage that a real guy should have. Lyosha thought that perhaps he was just jealous of him because he himself had thin arms and a puny body of a teenager. And probably, looking with admiration at the naked torso of Nazar, he dreamt of the same body. Probably, yes, but not only this so excited him inside. That was just what? He did not know. But for some reason, he liked to touch his skin, and when he reached for a gauze napkin, he specifically pressed his body so tightly against his bare back, and it was nice. Lyosha held back his intermittent breathing, feeling his heart pounding and his cheeks redden, and behind them his ears. And he felt hot.

Lyosha did not understand why all this was happening. And he did not know what to do with it. He also could not understand if he wanted to finish with the treatment of this wound or vice versa, he was so afraid that now he would finish processing it, and this strange condition that he felt inside and strange that he felt in the air is some kind of magic, a fairy tale that had originated, could all be destroyed in a split second.

Nazar stood abruptly.

“Thank you, then I'll do everything myself.”

Lyosha froze, hearing his icy tone. Then the door slammed in the bathroom, and the water in the shower rustled.

Alexey, uncomprehendingly, sat down on a stool. Yes, that fairy tale that was now around him, suddenly broke about this cold of words. He began to clean up the table, not realizing what it was.

***

Shutting into the bathroom and turning on the water, Nazar was jerking off. No matter how shameful it was for him, but he could not bear such tension in himself. He jerked off, and he was disgusted by himself. The last time he did these things, probably only in the army, about five years ago. Then he did not have this need. There were always those who satisfied him. He believed that jerking was a teenage need, and at his age it was humiliating. And now he was doing it, knowing that if he had lingered at least for a second there, he would not have kept himself, would have turned to him, to his hands, the warmth of his body, his eyes.

Nazar recalled his sky-blue eyes, and those lips, as if contoured, were so seductive...

He closed his eyes, remembering how he was holding him then in the tack room, penetrating with a kiss into his mouth, feeling his trembling, warmth, and breathing...

And he ejaculated into the hand, dropping to the floor of the bath, stunned by such an orgasm and desolation after it.

Recovering and washing with cold water, he realized what had just happened...

“Nothing happened. The girl needs to be found, and everything will be restored. After Natashka and I broke up, all sorts of the nonsense climb into my head. And this puny tadpole with his own eyes turned up at the wrong time. If there was a wench nearby, everything would be fine."

Realizing this, Nazar came out of the bathroom.

“Are you still here? Quickly go to Yefim. There the address is written.”

Alexey just nodded and, hastily dressed, ran out of the flat.

***

District Yasenevo was unfamiliar to Alexey. He had never been here, but, as his grandmother said, your tongue would get you anywhere. Therefore, having the exact address, he found the necessary bus, on which he reached the necessary stop, and there, again asking around the passersby, found the house he needed. After his district with low houses, greenery, small cozy courtyards, this new district with huge houses of seventeen floors, empty courtyards, and rare trees seemed to Alyosha a distant Martian landscape so strikingly different in contrast to the earth.

He entered the porch successfully, just as a girl with a pram was leaving it. He, holding the door, went inside. There he pressed the button of the thirteenth floor and shivered, he did not like elevators, feeling locked up and limited in freedom. Having waited, when the elevator, as ill luck would have it, slowly rising to the necessary floor, would open the doors, Aleksey quickly slipped out of it and rang the right apartment.

Now he was to meet with Yefim, with a man with whom he would have preferred never to see in his life. But Nazar asked. Nazar needed help, so how he could think about himself. Alyosha grouped and began to expect a meeting with the inevitable.

The door opened, on Yefim’s unshaven face, nothing was reflected, and he looked at Lyosha indifferently and waited.

“I am from Nazar,” Alyosha whispered on the exhale, still feeling that he was afraid of this meeting, even his voice was gone. And then he felt that a rough spurt pulled him into the apartment, and the door slammed behind him.

“Come in, slippers are over there,” he heard his husky voice.

Alex quickly took off his jacket, threw off his shoes and found slippers in the darkness of the corridor. Yefim was waiting for him in the kitchen. It was a standard small kitchen, where the powerful figure of Yefim reduced the size of this room even more. Lyosha slipped on a stool and handed a note from Nazar. He himself did not even read it, although it was not glued. He simply knew that it was not good to read other people's letters.

Yefim took a piece of paper. It was written there: “Call me from an unrevealed number to Lyosha’s phone”.

The fact that something happened, Yefim immediately guessed.

“Tell me,” he slowly lowered himself on a stool in front of Alexey and nailed him to the wall with his gaze.

Lyosha swallowed saliva and began to say:

“Yesterday, late in the evening, he rang ... Nazar rang the doorbell. I opened. His shoulder was injured. I sewed, well, like Bystryi, it also tore the skin, and I pulled it off with threads. And Nazar is the same, and in the morning he told to give a note to you. I arrived.”

“Is he hurt seriously?”

“I don’t know, but today I have processed the stitch, there was dried blood there, but it does not seem to fester...”

“Dictate your number.”

Alyosha, confused, dictated his home phone number. Yefim did not write, just with a stone face looked at him.

“Where are you going now?”

“To the hospital ... to the grandmother. She is there. She was recently laid down, she felt bad ... I will visit her, and then to the stable.”

“Today, do not go to city. Got it?”

Yefim saw that having come to him, this guy was already completely cold, and it was not surprising because the clothes were all old and out of season. But the frost on the street was not sickly.

“Nazar also forbade going to the city today. Therefore, I will help Petrovich and go home immediately.”

“Keep quiet about all this. Got it?” Yefim did not change the voice intonation, but Lyosha was frightened by his words, he just nodded and froze. “And if someone asks, you haven’t seen anything and you don’t know,” Lyosha swallowed saliva again and nodded, “and in the evening do not come back late. Got it? Well, why do you sit?  Go.”

Hearing the command, he got up and, quickly dressed, slipped out of the apartment with relief.

Yefim was already clearly aware that their affairs were bad, and everything was very serious. He went up to the stairs on the floor above and called the apartment. There lived a pensioner, whom he regularly helped to carry bags. She lived alone, her grandchildren came to her rarely, so Yefim calmly rang the doorbell, and she recognized him and let him in when she heard that Yefim had a broken phone and he needed to call the master.

With Nazar, they spoke not for long. Nazar spoke briefly about the events of the evening, then they began to sort out the options, who it could be. After discussing the plan, they came to the conclusion that Nazar should lay low, because nothing was clear, and the extra movement usually led to no good. But Yefim would begin to actively collect the guys and work through all the options. When something became known, he would call Nazar himself. That's what they decided.

Yefim came back to his apartment, thanking the compassionate neighbor for helping to call the master, and sitting down in the kitchen, he thought about it, analyzing the situation and realizing that it all came from taking over Sarychev's business. So, they needed to look for those who also wanted to seize this business, but only Nazar turned out to be faster, stole the business from under the nose, and those simply decided to kill him. Everything was simple and clear.

Platform Begovaya. Book I. Chapter 9

 

Early on Saturday morning, Alexey was already at the stable and busily collected equipment for loading into a horse-carrier. Petrovich found him during this occupation.

 

“Lyosh. There is a conversation.”

 

Alyosha froze with a saddle in his hands, feeling that something was wrong with Petrovich’s voice.

 

“On Vienna, her mistress will jump. She called me late yesterday, said she wanted to go to the start. She will come to Bitsa to the beginning of the competition.”

 

“But she seldom trained ... and can't cope with the horse...”

 

“She is the mistress. She pays for the horse and pays you for training her horse. She wants to jump, and I can’t contradict her. And she will pay you for this day as a groom. You will be there with her. You’ll give her a saddled horse, and then will pick it up after the route.”

 

“But after all, on one horse two horsemen can appear on starts.”

 

“The mistress is against it.”

 

Alyosha listened to this in perplexity, knowing that Vienna was a private horse, and indeed neither Petrovich, nor, all the more, he could cross the will of its owner. Then he remembered.

 

“Well, at least I jump on Tokha,” he said happily and saw how Petrovich averted his eyes.

 

“The client paid for Badminton. You know him, Kirill, he occasionally jumps on it. He decided to go on it on these starts. And the second rider cannot jump on Tokha because of its health, the horse will not stand. Yes, you know it yourself.”

 

“And who am I going to jump on?” Lyosha asked naively, not yet fully understanding what had happened.

 

“He will also pay you a day for the work of the groom,” seeing Alyosha’s lost face, Petrovich explained, giving his voice austerity. “He’s a client. He pays for these competitions. You don’t pay. Here rejoice that you will have a side job this Saturday and it is not bad at all.”

 

“But I have been preparing so much...”

 

“Nothing. In the next competition, you will go. And now take horses; horse transport has already arrived.”

 

Alexey turned away, nodding, and quickly carried the saddle into the horse transport that approached. There, inside the car, he slyly brushed away the tears of resentment and disappointment in front of his eyes. After all, he was preparing for these starts, waiting for them. He knew he could win...

 

Alyosha sadly sighed and went to the stables for the horses, knowing that he needed to do the task assigned by the coach. At these competitions, he would not be an athlete, but only a groom.

***

In Bitsa it was lively, like in a beehive. Inside it was overcrowded along the stable aisle. Everywhere there were horses tied in the aisle, ammunition was piled on the side of the loose boxes, and between them, athletes, helping girls who came here from the stables, and horse grooms like Lyosha were constantly hanging about.

After attaching the horses to free cross ties in the center of one of the aisles, he ran for ammunition, then for a bale of hay, then brought a bucket of water. He watered the horses, hung up the haynet so that Tokha could reach it and slowly chew the hay in it, as Vienna jumped first.

So he took up her. He cleaned her skin to shine with different brushes, combed the mane, chose sawdust from the tail, and then saddled to a white numnah, and then waited for her owner, who was obviously not in a hurry to come early in her competition.

After agreeing with another groom to look after Tokha, Alexey led Vienna to the warming-up arena, since it was time to flex muscles.

He looked at the start schedule in advance, who and when was jumping, and seeing that their time was coming, led the horse.

There they were found by the owner of Vienna, dressed up for such an occasion in all the new expensive equipment for the rider. She wore white breeches, beautiful red riding coat. Yes, it was the riding coat, a special jacket for equestrian sports, and not just a jacket, as everyone who didn’t have money for a sports uniform dressed as usual. Under the riding coat, she was wearing a white shirt with a white special tie and a beautiful brooch on it. She wore fashionable boots for jumping with a brown lacing on her legs, and she was holding in her hands brown gloves to match.

She greeted Lyosha with disdain and, putting on her helmet, waited for him to take her horse to the special steps, which were more comfortable to sit on in the saddle.

The girl vaguely imagined the meaning of warming up the horse before the start. She was aimlessly riding about in a small warming-up arena, disturbing other participants of the competition. Finally, it was stopped by Petrovich, who all this time, as usual, having met his friends, celebrated competitions with them. Petrovich was already on the positive, but at the same time, he was clearly aware of and controlling everything.

When he took control of a careless pupil, things seemed to go well. She, listening to his tips and hints and doing it for sure, successfully jumped over the barriers that stood apart for the warm-up. Encouraged by her success, the girl, again casting a scornful glance at Lyoshka, proudly rode out into the competitive field.

The competitions themselves were held in a large indoor Bitsa arena. Throughout its space, there were obstacles that had to be overcome. Lyosha squeezed to the side of the manege, knowing that as a groom he should have been there, although with great pleasure he would go and would not look at all of this.

Vienna, coming out of a small warming-up arena into a large manege and seeing before it space where it could roam, immediately turned into an energetic horse from a calmly melancholic one.

Alexey saw how the girl turned pale on it, frantically clinging to the reins and constraining Vienna in place. And then there was a strike of the bell, which meant the beginning of the course.

Perhaps, if Petrovich were there and told the horsewoman what to do and how it would have gone differently. But at the competitions, the coach could only stand and watch the results of his pupil.

Petrovich also saw his athlete, pale, with frightened eyes, trying to cope with the horse, which simply began to carry her to obstacles. Surprisingly, the first three barriers they jumped even successfully. The poles were not knocked down, and the horsewoman miraculously did not fall, keeping herself in the saddle. But when she directed Vienna to a system consisting of a series of obstacles standing behind each other, which had to be jumped one after another, it happened what had already been foreseen by everyone, even by the audience. When the horse landed again, the rider slid to the side, and with the next jump, she flew into obstacles, knocking them down with herself. Poles with a crash scattered in different directions. Vienna, vigorously kicking up, quickly rode around the arena, and the rider began to clumsily rise from the sand.

Alexey ran to catch a horse, and Petrovich went to the athlete. She had already got up, and with her face red with anger and shame, she walked through the whole arena to see the entire public in the stands. Her perfectly white breeches were yellow from the sand, just like the fashionable red riding coat.

Alyosha, having caught the horse, led it to her, as it was a tradition to sit on a horse after falling, and, after jumping over any obstacle, to leave the battlefield. This had to be done in order for the horse to remember in its memory that it should jump over the barrier clearly and only then the horseman would leave it alone. But, apparently, today the hostess of Vienna was no longer going to sit in the saddle.

“Go, walk the horse in the stable,” Petrovich waved his hand to Lyosha him to disappear out of sight.

Alexey led Vienna to the stable, pitying that this girl had fallen, and if she went to the training more often, she could have jumped off the entire course. This Lyosha knew, he felt Vienna, its potential. He was sure that on this horse it was possible to win this route meter ten, to pass it clearly.

***

After the break, the following course, meter twenty high, was installed in the arena. Kirill, who was supposed to jump on Badminton, arrived in advance and was constantly getting underfoot, giving Alexey advice on how to clean the horse, how to saddle it and in general many, many tips. Lyosha silently endured everything, did not contradict and was doing his job. At the appointed time, Kirill sat down on Tokha in the preparation ring and, quite competently was doing a warm-up, under the guidance of Petrovich, who was already very drunk.

When Kirill on Badminton went to the manege, Alyosha squeezed again to the board to see how Tokha was jumping. He liked to look at the technique of jumping of this horse.

The bell sounded, Kirill spurred Tokha, and they went to the first obstacle. The first three they passed clean, the fourth obstacle called “Verticals” Badminton touched with a hind hoof. Alexey saw why, it was a rider's mistake, he too quickly shifted his weight into the saddle, when he had to stand still in the stirrups with an emphasis on the knee. It was his weight that made an imbalance, and the horse hind hoof grazed the pole, knocking it down. But one fault was not scary for such starts. Of course, they would no longer get into the lead, but there were still chances of winning.

In the course of their movement, there was a wall, this obstacle visually resembled a brick wall, over which it was also necessary to jump.

Kirill led the horse on the wall, and at the last moment, Badminton abruptly went aside, not jumping over it, but running alongside it.

Petrovich spat an oath.

“He has to work with legs. But he sits gaping,” the coach waved, already realizing that these starts were lost.

Although the rider had a chance of another attempt, but Tokha, taught by the first successful run-out past the obstacle, repeated the same thing for the second time. And for the third time, they just crashed into this decorative wall made of plywood bricks, smashing it all, because in the process of fighting the rider with his horse it was not even noticed.

At this, the Badminton starts were over.

Alexey honestly fulfilled the function of the groom assigned to him. He, taking the horse from Kirill, walked it and set in order, put it under the side-reins in the passage and the rug to wait for the loading order.

On this day, Petrovich was as drunk as the devil. Well, the horse carrier driver helped Alyosha with loading horses and Petrovich. The hostess of Vienna and Kirill left immediately after their performance, and therefore everything was on Lyosha.

Upon arrival at the stable, he was helped by Makha and the girls. The girls took the coach and led him to sleep in the storeroom, and Makha said that she would do it with horses, already knowing that Lyosha had placed his grandmother in the hospital, and he had to go to her, while the hours of visiting the patients were not over.

***

This Saturday, Nazar was in a great mood after a report from their accountant of Sarychev Bank. Yes, and their manager, put in the casino "Golden Paradise", also pleased with the successful business there.

Nazar went to an old Lincoln from their rented apartment, which was located in Kuntsevo. He did not change it after removing Varlam from the affairs. This apartment was convenient for their secret meetings, tested and habitable. In it, they gathered, resolved problems discussed future plans.

Late in the evening, Nazar decided it was time to leave, although the guys offered to stay for killing the bottle and to order wenches on-site. But for some reason, Nazar was not attracted by this. He decided to go home today, to visit his father and mother. Though they didn’t talk to him, at least to see them - and that made his heart feel easier.

Leaving the courtyard, characteristic clicks rang along the side of the car. Their sound Nazar could not confuse with anything. These were machine gun shots. Then he heard the crunch of the glass and cracks were spreading over it.

He instantly orientated himself and, sharply spinning the steering wheel, stepped on the gas. And then he saw the location of the bullet holes on the windshield, that if it were not for the lighter in the glove compartment, to which he reached out, he would have been already dead. A bullet would have knocked his brains out. All this flashed through his mind in a split second, while he was driving at full throttle along the streets towards the railway station. In an extreme situation, his military skills, which he had acquired during the war, instantly woke up in him.

Realizing that these people did not plan to leave him alive, he calmly calculated the situation and what to do. His pursuers did not lag behind him. The next machine gun fire pierced the car body, and Nazar could barely hold the steering wheel, as the Lincoln began to skid. It meant that the wheel was pierced. On the side, he saw the flashes of a police UAZ car, which, attracted by these events, was driving toward them, turning on the siren. It was even worse. One thing was to dismantle with those who wanted to kill him, and quite another - cops. He did not want to get to them at all. Nazar pressed the gas, getting the maximum out of the car, hearing the flat tire wheel was drawing on the asphalt. The lights of the station Workers' Settlement and railway tracks could be seen ahead. He directed the car there. His pursuers did not lag behind, continuing to shoot. Obviously, the presence of the police on the tail did not bother them. Another automatic gunfire burst through his Lincoln, and he felt a pain in his left shoulder.

Seeing the entrance to the yard in front of him, Nazar abruptly turned into it, so much that his car skidded, and the pursuers, not expecting such a maneuver from him, rushed forward at full speed, and only then slowed down and began to turn around. Nazar had won a few seconds.

He jumped out of the car, rolled over the roadside lawn and, ducking, dived behind the parked cars at the curb. Seeing a darkened doorway near the houses in front of him, he ran, ducking, and soon turned behind the house.

On the run he took off the scarf and slipped it under the jacket from the left shoulder, feeling that a bullet had passed there and it was bleeding. He did not want to leave a trail of blood in the snow. In the distance, shots, and sounds of sirens were heard. Nazar did not know how the events were developing there, but judging by the shootout, those who pursued him were now shooting at the cops, and he did not know who would be the winner of this fight. But he decided that he had time while they were busy and did not follow his trail, and he also assumed that these were complete scumbags, out of control and fear. Not only did they openly attack him, unleashed a massacre on the road, they also were shooting representatives of the law. Nazar was aware of the seriousness of his position.

Having strayed still around the dark courtyards, he stopped. A police siren sounded in the distance. No shots were heard, but he saw two guys on the opposite side of the street and noticed a gun in the hand of one of them. The fact that they came for his head, he immediately guessed. Nazar slowly retreated into the shadow of the house and turned the corner.

It meant that his worst fears were confirmed. These people put out a police patrol’s light and were looking for him.

Nazar looked around. The terrain seemed familiar to him. He remembered - this was Lyosha's yard...

Looking around again, he saw the entrance, his entrance. Staying in the shadow of the houses, he quickly headed to it. There was no other way out. His leather winter jacket was punctured by a bullet, and blood was flowing down his sleeve inside. Like this, he could not appear in the subway, and it was stupid to catch a car either. This would immediately attract attention to him. And in general, he did not know how many of them there were. Now the safest thing was to lie low, not run hither and thither.

But he could do a disservice to this Alyosha and his grandmother if they found him there ... Nazar froze for a second and then removed this feeling of guilt from himself. Why the hell would he become interested in the fate of some guy? He always did what he needed, and now he would do the same, and what would happen to those with whom he would be hiding ...well, he didn’t care.

***

Returning from his grandmother, Alexey sat down to study his lessons, thereby trying to occupy his head with the right thoughts and not to think about the fact that today his dream of competition crashed due to reality.

The doorbell rang. He, without thinking, went to open. Usually, a neighbor on the floor came, she was a friend of his grandmother and, probably, now wanted to know what the grandmother health was. Opening the door, Alyosha froze. Nazar stood on the threshold. Lyosha's breathing went astray, his heart sank strangely and beat faster. From this, he was confused.

Nazar had already assured himself that he didn’t care, and, having rung, waited quietly, knowing that there was definitely someone at home because of the light in their windows. The door opened, and he saw those eyes, as clear as the sky, and all his confidence began to fade.

But it was only a second when he stopped, looking at the boy standing in front of him in the same T-shirt and sweatpants, then, roughly pushing him aside, went into the flat, carefully locking the door behind him.

“Where is your grandma?” He asked coldly.

“In the hospital,” Alexey stood like that, pushed to the clothes hanger, and looked at Nazar.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Will you let to spend the night?”

“Yes ...” Alyosha looked away from the face of Nazar to the floor, attracted by the fact that something was dripping, it was blood. “Are you injured?!”

“A scratch. Do you have a first-aid kit?”

Alexey nodded. And seeing that Nazar went to the bathroom, he quickly rushed to the first-aid kit, knowing that he needed his help.

Nazar came out of the bathroom and sat on the kitchen stool under a lamp hanging on the ceiling. In the bathroom, he took off all his clothes and now he was only in jeans. He washed his arm and shoulder from blood, but it continued to trickle through an open wound on his shoulder.

Seeing a pale guy with the first-aid kit in his hands, frozen in indecision, he asked, “I hope you don't faint from the sight of blood?” He shook his head. “So, you will be able to sew. This is just a scratch, but it is necessary to debride and tighten the edges of the skin, then it will heal quickly. Can you help? It is awkward for me.”

Indeed, the wound was behind the left shoulder, and it was impossible to sew it by yourself.

Lyosha slowly walked around Nazar in a circle and looked at the wound.

“I sewed horses. When Bystryi tore his flank, he had hooked himself the wire, we had to sew it... But it will hurt you...”

“Have a drink?”

“No ... we do not drink,” Alyosha meant himself and his grandmother, and then remembered. “They gave French brandy to my grandmother two years ago. I will bring it now.”

Lyoshka darted into the grandmother's room on the jump and brought the cognac, hidden in a cupboard with clothes, with the inscription Napoleon and the strange letters V.S.P.P. on the top of a bottle.

“It will do,” Nazar opened the bottle and took a few sips right out of the neck. “Well, why are you standing? Sew. Do not be afraid, imagine that you sew up how it is there ... Bystryi, but not me.”

Alexey grouped, realizing the full responsibility that he should help. After all, a person was injured, he needed help. He had to do it. Although Alyosha was sick of blood, and the realization that he pierced the skin of a living person with a needle, horrified him, but he held on. Just finishing all this and wiping the seam again with a gauze napkin, he sank down on a stool, feeling how his hands and feet were shaking.

“Probably, I need to bandage?” Lyosha looked at Nazar, who carefully was examining him.

“Yes, and tight. Can you? Drink cognac, and you are totally pale.”

“I don't drink ... never drank it. I do not want to drink it,” Alyosha was completely embarrassed under his gaze. “You probably want to eat later.”

“Let’s speak as equals. Yes, it would be good to eat.”

“There is soup ... chicken noodles and I can fry dumplings,” Lyosha began to rewind Nazar’s shoulder with a bandage.

“Ok!”

Nazar, despite all this, felt brutal hunger, and when the boy finally set a bowl of soup in front of him, he eagerly pounced on it.

“Do you or grandmother cook?” feeling how delicious the soup was, Nazar quickly swallowed it, despite the fact that it was hot.

“I'm cooking now. Grandmother used to cook but now she can’t...”

“What about her, why is she in the hospital?”

“She felt bad yesterday, the neighbor called Ambulance. Doctors said it was better not to risk and took her away. And today I was at her. The doctor said that she feels rather well and suggested putting her in a sanatorium near Moscow after the examination. Only it is necessary to pay. But now I’ve got money, and therefore she will be transported to the sanatorium before the New Year, and she will be there in the New Year ... and I'm here, alone ...”

Alex, having fried the dumplings, put them on Nazar's plate and took out mayonnaise from the fridge.

“Why aren't you eating?” Nazar gladly bit off the roasted dumpling, which crunched in his mouth. “Well, sit down and eat. Moreover, the dumplings have left, otherwise, you are only skin and bones... You, probably, have stopped eating all alone here?”

“I eat, only it is bad to be alone...”

“Is that why you are so gloomy? Is it due to the fact that at New Year you will be alone? So on the contrary, invite friends, the hut is free.”

Alyosha, after smearing the dumplings with mayonnaise, quickly began to eat them, feeling suddenly that he was probably very hungry or eating with a company was different than doing it alone. Maybe that was the point.

“My friend Genka ... Gena. He leaves according to a voucher for all the winter holidays. And I don’t have other friends. And then, on the first of January, I need to come early to the stable. There are horses after vaccination, they need to be walked on a rein.”

“So, will you celebrate alone?”

“I will not celebrate ... I will go to bed.”

Nazar had already eaten his portion and put the rest of the dumplings from the pan into his plate.

“By the way, how are you doing in sports? Petrovich said, you had to go to the competitions today, and you have to jump there. Well, have you knocked spots off? Petrovich has dinned into our ears what a great sportsman you are.”

Alyosha sighed dejectedly and began to smear mayonnaise on a plate by a dumpling, impaled on a fork.

“On Vienna, the mistress jumped, and she did not allow me to take part in the competition as the second rider on it. And on Tokha, Badminton, Kirill jumped, he paid for the starts. I went with them there as a groom...”

“And how did they jump?”

“It’s hard to cope with Vienna, her mistress doesn’t get along well with her ... she fell off her. Kirill jumped well, but he rarely went to the training, and Tokha hit the obstacle, and then broke the wall, and they were removed from the competition for disobedience of the horse.”

Nazar carefully examined the face of the boy, which reflected all the emotions. He had not yet learned how to hide them from others. Everything from grief to disappointment flashed across his face. Nazar averted his eyes, and then said detachedly, “Will you give me some tea?”

Alyosha caught himself and, getting up, started fussing with the kettle, cursing himself for having gone into his own problems, although he had a guest to take care of. So grandmother always taught him, explaining how hospitable hosts behaved when they had guests.

Nazar saw his fussiness, how he took out the cups from the dish drainer above the sink from the hinged locker, then took out the sugar bowl and froze in confusion.

“But there's nothing for tea ... only jam...”

“Come on jam. Which one?”

“Cherry or the Chinese apple ... the grandmother often cooked jam before.”

“Let’s try Chinese apple jam, and do you have white bread? We will eat jam with bread.”

Lyoshka quickly rushed into the room and took a dusty jar of jam under the bed. After rubbing it in the kitchen with a cloth, he put the jar on the table.

Nazar took the jar and a bottle opener from the Lyoshka’s hands, began to open the jam with the inscription one thousand nine hundred and eighty-seven, the year of his return from the army ... from the war.

Jam spread on slices of white bread was very tasty. Nazar enjoyed eating it and having tea. Lyoshka also screwed up his eyes and ate, apparently, he did not eat jam often, only on such holidays when the guests came. Nazar understood that he needed to explain to him his presence here finally.

“I need your help,” Alyosha stopped chewing, looking up at Nazar in surprise, “can I live with you for a few days? It is better for you not to know why and not to ask anything. And be silent that I am here with you if anyone asks. Got it? Well, that's good. Can you go to Yefim tomorrow? He lives in Yasenevo. I will write to him, and you will hand over the paper and that's all. Then he will know what to do. And here's the money ... take it, you’ll buy the products, there is nothing in your fridge... buy with all the money. Do not save, well, buy a drink,” seeing the question in the eyes of Alexey, he explained. “Do you know Smirnoff vodka? If you do not know, then take a bottle with an eagle, with a white eagle. Got it?”

“Well, then I will go to Yasenevo in the morning, and then to my grandmother, and afterward to the stable ... tomorrow is Sunday, there will be a horse rental. Petrovich promised to give me a little money, and then I’ll go home in the evening.”

Nazar chuckled to himself, the boy reported to him as if he was his parent about what he would do.

“Everything is clear ... Just don’t go to the city to rent out a horse. Got it?”

“Well,” Alyosha dutifully nodded.

Nazar grinned again at such an easy approach. It was clear that Lyosha was a very obedient child, he didn’t argue back what the older ones said.

“Where can I spend the night?”

Lyosha was confused, and then realized, “There is a comfortable sofa in the grandmother’s room...”

“Ok. Show me.”

Nazar followed Alexey, but, passing by his room, he stopped and went into it. He was again struck by this cleanliness and accuracy in everything. Everything was poor but so cozy and soulful. He thoughtfully leafed through notebooks lying on the table.

“How do you study? Are there twos?”

Alexey froze at the door and began to answer with the guise of a guilty student, “There are satisfactory marks... true, there was a D in biology ... but I corrected myself, retook, and now I’ve got a three. And also there are fours.”

“So, you are a mediocre pupil, but I got four or five. Why are you so weak? Is it because of horses?”

“Yeah...”

“And what do you want to do later? After school?” It was strange for Nazar that he was interested in it, it was really interesting to hear the plans for this shorn boy, whose blond hair was stuck on his head so funny.

“I wanted to go to the army, but now I don’t know ... how I will leave my grandmother ... she won’t live without me. And after the army, I want to work.”

“An apartment, a car, a cottage. Do you have such plans?”

“No, I want to buy a horse. I want to have mine, to jump, to take part in competitions ... maybe then I’ll go abroad, to compete there. I want to work with horses.”

Nazar took his eyes off him, wondering how sincere this boy was in everything. So, he naively told everything the first person he met, without even doubting him, and entrusted to him all his plans and dreams.

Lyosha, seeing that Nazar was again looking at his notebooks, said that he would go to make the bed, and quickly slipped out of the room.

Nazar looked around, the room was like a room: a narrow bed, a small table at which Lyosha worked. There was a shelf with books, and on all the walls, closing the faded wallpaper with flowers, posters from the magazine with horses were glued. Pictures of horses were different, large and small, horses galloping on them, some with riders, and some just against the background of nature. Nazar smiled and looked, continuing to look around: a wardrobe with clothes, curtains on the window and flowers in pots on a peeling but clean window sill. For some reason, he wanted to stay here, maybe because of the feeling of calmness and tranquility in everything.

He forced himself to leave this room. Lyosha had already laid the sofa and held out a towel.

Nazar silently took a towel.

“My clothes are in the bathroom in the blood. They are now soaking in water. You’ll squeeze them and put in the package, and tomorrow throw them out. Got it?” Alexey nodded and ran out somewhere, then came back, holding a thin dark gray v-neck sweater in his hands.

“Here, my grandmother knitted for sale. It is new and in size, it will probably fit ... otherwise, my things will be small for you.”

Nazar took a sweater, glanced at Lyoshka, agreeing that his broad shoulders and biceps were clearly not squeezing into the things of a boy whose shoulders are not wider than the hangers.

“Thank. I'll take a bath and go to sleep. And you go to bed, understand?”

“I have to finish the lessons ...it won’t take much time, can I?”

“Ok.”

***

Lying on the sofa, Nazar, falling asleep, felt for the first time in his life a strange calm in his soul, despite everything that happened to him. Despite the fact that today he did not die by chance, and now he would have to deal with all this, and it was not yet clear who would win whom. But for some reason, now all this was unimportant to him. He was just fine, quiet, calm and so comfortable as if he was at home...

Alyosha, having quickly washed the dishes, sat down to study. He did not want to leave homework for the next day. Everything he needed to do for Monday, he decided to do today. What he could not solve at all, he had thought over that day and would not worry about it, but would copy it off from Genka’s exercise book, who would always help him to cope with it, having copied it off from one of the best pupils’ one.

When he went to bed, for some reason the slumber disappeared, and all events at once fell on him in the chaos of memories: today's competition, the disappointment that he was left out of things when everyone was jumping, and he was just standing and watching. That was the news that the grandmother would be in the sanatorium all New Year's holidays, and he would be alone for the first time during the New Year. And another moment was this Nazar. He remembered how he had been sewing his wound, but he did not even lift his shoulder, although it must have hurt a lot. Then he smiled at how his guest ate everything quickly, rating the soup cooked by him. And he was also pleased that Nazar was in his room, watched notebooks and was interested in his life, his plans and dreams of his horse.

It was strange, but today Lyosha was so warm and calm at heart. Despite everything that had happened, he was fine. He did not know why. Covered tightly with a blanket, he began to fall into a dream, where he rode on a horse, and spectators sat in the stands and watched him jumping and winning...