Victory of wonOn Saturday, since the morning, we were told that on Sunday, 9 - go May, we, in full strength, have to be on the meeting devoted to the Victory Day. News not that was unexpected, but each of our department, as well as in previous years, nevertheless in soul hoped that it “will slip“, its surname will not appear in the list obliged to an appearance. Usually, and it turned out: if in the list there was one, then it meant that there will be no another, more lucky, and that will be able to devote all day off to the affairs.
This time nobody was lucky. In the list there were all six surnames. Martynovsky, as always, indulged in thoughts. What he thought of, it was difficult to tell. Whether how, in that case to it to plan the day broken in half, whether what telling arguments to adduce in own favor to avoid the general obligatory fate, whether about what. Savchenko, as usual, did not give a sign, continuing to be engaged in the work. Even did not raise the head. Kuznetsov and Grigorchik specified the place of collecting and time, asked still something then were removed on the affairs. I at first thought that day will be really inconveniently cut in half. And in Sunday luxury in a bed you will not roll about, and after meeting not that mood will be engaged in something. However, for the spoiled day I did not feel pity to myself. That treacherous moment of weakness quickly passed, and me, on the contrary, it became ashamed for the narrow-mindedness and it is at the same time somehow joyful: day - that what! Victory Day! The only, so-called holiday from which on heart validly it became more cheerful. My grandfather, the colonel of tank troops, with a breast bemedalled and medals was remembered. My grandmother working as the teenager at plant. Other relatives who passed those dashing years. “I will go, and with pleasure!“ - I solved.
Before the termination of the working day the subject of meeting emerged again, and here some broke through. Savchenko exploded, having declared in public that she will not be able to come. It planned a trip for the dacha, landing of cucumbers, onions and still something, and she does not intend to postpone it. Martynovsky, as always, carefully supported her. Supported also others, but to develop a subject were afraid and what`s the use - that: all the same it is necessary to leave. In air began to smell gunpowder. Savchenko, having left in a huff, defiantly left. Kuznetsov and Grigorchik went to a smoking-room. Martynovsky thought of something.
Sunday morning was on - May warm and solar. On trees birds chirped, the sky was pure and blue. Being afraid to oversleep without alarm clock, I jumped earlier usually. As the soldier, has quickly breakfast, - as speak in army, “ate food“, - put on the white fresh shirt prepared since evening, to gloss polished shoes, and in a minute walked towards the bus-stop. The mood was excellent. On heart there was no rage, as usual happened in such cases. Rage for in vain spent time, for universal “obligation“ of presence where I was obliged to be and where I did not want to be at all. This morning I did everything on a need of the heart, but not on someone`s pointer, and from it it was easy and joyful.
The stop was empty and covered with empty beer bottles and stubs. The person young still approached me a seedy look and, suffering morning after, hardly squeezing out words of their mouth breathing the reek of alcohol, asked to light. In a minute three more approached: two grandmothers with full string-bags with some seedling and the man of average years in the rumpled jacket what carried in the eightieth. Grandmothers for certain went to a Sunday market, the man too somewhere, and bomzhik just looked for where to pokhmelitsya. All had angry persons and unfriendly. The man in a wrinkled jacket gloomy glanced at my white shirt and the polished shoes. It was visible that this early Sunday morning my festive look did not please it at all.
“Two“ approached. I jumped inside. My fellow travelers, groaning scrambled too. And all of us, gathering speed, rushed off everyone on the affairs. At stops people jammed into the bus. It was visible that many went there where also I. Women were elegant. Men are serious and solemn. Here in the bus, surprisingly a young-looking look the veteran with medals on an old suit easily jumped, and I, looking at it from a back, at his youthful appearance and speed, unusual for the veteran of war, tried to guess how many to it could be years. Here the old woman in a blue military uniform, in a rank whether the lieutenant, whether the senior lieutenant, also with awards and medals, slowly rose inside. A clean open face, as from the picture of those years, absolutely white hair collected in a simple hairdress, a stick. At the following stop the bus was to the full filled by elegant school students with balloons and festive tags. And already on following the majority of us descended on a main square, and everyone went to the place of collecting.
To the people, as every year, there was much. Pupils of elementary grades, seniors, students, workers of plants, teachers, doctors. I without special work found the place of collecting, identified the colleagues, shook hands with everyone and became a row. In a nose unpleasantly struck a smell of alcohol and garlick sausage. Employees of the next department about something amicably rygotat, nodding on me. Stood nearby, the flags of plant and national flags attached on telescopic fishing-rods.
“Wons, let Daredevils with flags costs! In each hand on a flag, and it is normal!“ - lisping, one of them was cheerfully filled in. As always, the people preferred to remain in the shadow, nobody wished to stand ahead, holding before himself a staff. To stand with a flag - meant to stand up to the end as in fight, and not to have the slightest opportunity to desert, chukhnut home a bit earlier. Once, I remember, and I refused to take this symbol of plant in hand, but not because wanted to run away home a bit earlier but because I wanted to have the right to tell “No“. But not this time.
“Also I will stand - I responded, - from me will not decrease“ - and, having pulled one of rods, unwound a panel and at all length extended a fishing-rod. It is more than volunteers on remained three a banner it did not turn out and therefore the deputy director had to interfere, having appointed other standard-bearers.
Slowly we moved forward on the positions, became nearly a system, and began to wait for official opening of meeting. Weather was wonderful, the sun burned more and stronger, and air the presentiment something important and good soared.
In due time meeting was declared by open. New and new representatives approached the microphone, spoke how it is necessary, about the importance of the Victory, about those who forged it, about fallen. Who spoke - it was visible not. And all the rest, including ceremonial procession, remained out of sight. Only it was heard.
In the people wandered. Boys in dreadlocks and girls in piercing continually otdavlivat to me legs, hanging around to the right and on the left, and, most likely, were not strongly interested in official part of a ceremony. These hairy cranks with eternal bags - with an extraordinary force interested me that they there always carry, - atilt and in the worn-out gym shoes and their girlfriends punctured with pins were there in not measured number as if the meeting devoted 9 - mu May they mixed with new Woodstock. Uneasy mummies with children without ceasing turned extensively so at me in eyes zaryabit. Here and there shots of the burst spheres were distributed, every time forcing to shudder those who were near. On gloomy faces of men it was read obvious “Stop talking“ and “Rather to drink“.
Tatyana Vladimirovna, that worked with the floor above in department of information, came in a new coquettish plashchik gently - pink color, on very tall hairpins and with such dense “meyk - apy“ that I at the beginning of it, was, did not learn, and to me some time was necessary to peer at its the acquaintance to pain an image to find in it two - three familiar lines. Elena Ivanovna at her inquired something, touching raincoat buttons, carefully running over it a hand.
Other ladies also not strongly lagged behind. Especially still our young-looking employees changed elderly, but. Never I saw on them such juicy dresses and such inspired make-up, as that day yet.
In twenty minutes after opening, the undertaken mogutny aunt with a scoop, a broom and in an orange vest of the housing and communal services worker suddenly put in our dense ranks goodness knows where from, and was accepted, discontentedly dissecting ranks, to sweep vigorously.
We had a good time as we could. Lenochka from a reception counted reservations acting, every time when it managed to reveal the next miss, rejoicing sincerely as the child.
Especially it was pleased by some veteran whom to us, as well as all others, it was not visible, but whose voice accurately informed us of the huge loudspeaker standing in five meters. The old man spoke slightly stammering and all the time swallowed the terminations of words.
The foreman standing from me at the left, whose surname I constantly forgot, complained all the time that in the territory of carrying out meeting forbade drinking of alcohol. The sign “The Territory without Alcohol“ established at a main entrance so stunned him that it all hour it is upset muttered only about it.
Nina Ivanovna who was near Lenochka constantly looked around as if being afraid of something. And when once again I turned the head in its party, uvidat that she was off and away. Having turned back back, I also saw that a good few of my employees was successfully and imperceptibly dissolved, and the crowd considerably thinned.
In twenty minutes, having won back the anthem of the country, meeting was declared closed, and the people as in attack, jerked there where shish kebabs smoked and roundabouts span. Mummies and daddies with children fatefully, with a grimace of inevitable suffering on a face, were built in grandiose line to “revolving object“, the most extreme attraction. Others rushed to other not numerous swing - roundabouts, were all over pushed into suffocating turn, were pushed, choked and worked elbows, did not try to obtain the yet - did not flop tired, but happy on rigid seats, shining from all wide face on those who else choked in turn. Oh, it was the real fight! Hand-to-hand from which only the most resistant came out winners!
Here and there, in the thick, little men crowded together a working look, thievishly looked around as if boys with a cigarette on change, skorekhonko were put to some package of which the straw stuck out, exhausted the fighting hundred grams, gave a package further, and being enough wiped by a sleeve, stepped aside a little, shooting at the parties a look which it is stirred already a little up, but bravely talked “Our right cause! The victory will be for us!“.
Having skated the on roundabouts as if having cleared the enemy bar, fathers - soldiers courageously squeezed into other turn, behind a shish kebab, belyashes and rolls while mothers - persons serving in rear with children expected aside, a look encouraging the heroes.
Having pulled out at the enemy a portion - another of the smoking meat and having won a bottle of some incendiary mix, it seems “Forfeits“ in the same place, Kok - Coca“ or “Sprite“, the happy family was jubilantly added with edge of one of not numerous little tables and if all places were already taken, simply swallowed meat standing, wiping a sleeve sweat from a forehead and victoriously gazing about.
Having hardly torn through crowd of celebrating and having left on the other hand, not being late, I went straight home. On the road I decided to call the acquaintance who during war, though was a boy, under intoxicated mood, quite often told about fascists and about that time. Having phoned, I heard still sleepy voice in spite of the fact that there were about twelve o`clock in the afternoon. The old man received my congratulations without special enthusiasm, and I, without having dared to bother more, having hasty wished it a good health, pressed a release.
On the road I glanced in the next shop behind bread. Inside to the people there was very little. And only near the next pothouse, as usual in the day off, the crowd with habitually rumpled physiognomies shifted from one foot to the other. The number pokhmelyayushchikhsya was more usual. Most likely, the Victory Day was one more excellent occasion to pokutit on all Ivanovskaya. And if in any other day I do not pay special attention to these fans of life, then this time osolovely eyes, a loud mat and the unsteady gait unpleasantly cut both an eye, and hearing.
Now, at midday, these are kind good fellows where - nibud in a dirty gate, “ink will smother“, and will congratulate for certain each other and on the Victory Day... Fie! “However that I, the moralist, or me there is a business to them?“ - inertly I thought, and went to a stop.
I did not begin to sit down on a bench, there already poddaty company of men and women is not more senior than forty, with all the heart congratulated each other on a holiday, mixed up with foul language,
gundosya something about “Our tenth landing battalion“.
From an underground passage, holding at arm`s length a glass of beer full to the brim, hardly, groaning and swearing, reeling, the sickly old man with some medal on a dirty sleeveless jacket in this world crept out. Became, shaking an aspen leaf near me, tastefully aloud swore something about buses and trolleybuses, a muddy eye threw me, something swore about youth which does not respect old men, looked round, and started wandering to the cheerful company which accepted it as native. A loop for the old man aroma of sour sweat alternately stretched with the yesterday`s reek of alcohol.
Me it became sad. I was not able to get rid of an intellectual reflection and therefore my mood was irrevocably spoiled. I did not begin to wait for the bus. I walked and remembered the grandfather Vanya, the colonel of tank troops, the handsome - the officer, vigorous and tightened even in eighty seven, passed all war, and given everything itself to the Homeland, the people. I had no number of its phone, and in general we were far apart, divided by distances and the silliest life, I could not call it and therefore I took the sister and asked it to give it my congratulations, but in reply heard only angry constantly busy woman “Well, it is good if there is time, then I will call“.
Houses waited for eternal affairs. It was necessary to wash, clean, make a lunch. And in general … And therefore, having jumped at the following stop in the appeared in time bus, I wearily hurried home.