Memory casket. Crazy my star where you conduct me? If I tell part 1to you that all this the truth, you all the same will not believe me. If I tell that it is a lie then why I placed this story in the cycle “Memory Casket“? Therefore I will choose golden mean. Everything that here is written, was valid, but was not only with me, and and with my friends and relatives, other of whom are not present any more, and some far. Their and my memorable stories formed the basis of this story.
the Curious, or rather inquisitive star conducted me on life. A lot of things were interesting to me. What is “deep singing“ in the Spanish poetry and new grades of violets and a lilac how to shake up cream from cream of wheat, to pickle vegetables, to embroider with a smooth surface and to do figures of the salty test. I knew names of planets and constellations, more or less understood music and painting, defined what poet possesses this or that poem and studied new cat breeds. Stubborn and inquisitive my star was mercy to me so as far as it was represented to it possible.
I difficult met with people, but it was always interesting to me to watch them. Most of all I was interested unusual as speak, the people who are knocked out from the correct life. Correctness - it is almost always boring. And with boredom to cruelty, as we know, only a step.
Therefore when the crazy star abandoned me on affairs in S.`s city once, I first of all went to investigate it. The town was small and sedate. From sights in it were hotel overlooking a cemetery, local theater and the railway station with a big clock. My hotel room reached green silence of graves, hours at the station shone nacre and threateningly beat each quarter, and in local theater gave the opera “Rigoletto“.
Having finished work, I decided to think over. There was no place to scatter them especially - the choice was small. Or to remain in hotel, or to walk on the spring city. I came to a balcony. Marble cemeterial angels and granite plates cast thought of caducity and decay. Neither that, nor another for the next fifty years included in my plans. Therefore when the sun licked the head of an angel standing close by, I finally made a choice for walk. To be unsteady aimlessly, especially, on the unfamiliar city, did not stick to the woman as my grandmother considered. The poor grandmother, she what adventurous devils danced in my soul would know! I decided to visit the second local sight especially as I not bad treated Verdi`s music.
To the people in theater there was slightly more than a quarter of the hall. So far the duke, moving fat hips, sang about the fact that “heart of the beauty is inclined to changes“, I considered theater. It was a match for the audience - tidy and reserved. In velvet chairs was so pokoyno, it is so silent that I even forgot about a scene. There, between times, something strange was created. The clown Rigoletto looked awful. No, he should not be the hand-written handsome, but it was in general beyond! Shaggy eyebrows clustered over his eyes. They were not visible from - under brovasty thickets. From there only black lightnings rushed about. Lightnings of rage and bile of the humpback offended by God.
Without having begun to wait until the honest murderer Sparafuchille kills the clown`s daughter, I left theater. After to me cries of the offended Rigoletto rushed and it is eternal - a playful song of the duke.
From theater to hotel conducted two roads. One “a spacious, beaten track“ - through the area of the central department store, another poorly populated - through the avenue surrounded with poplars and the old tram line. Crazy my star chose for me the second. Never spur a willing horse.
Having passed several meters, I heard noise. Two puny teenagers pulled out a bag from hands of the elderly woman. One of them still clamped it a mouth and crawled hands at it under a skirt. The woman was thin, her hair got off and stared from horror stopped on me.
- M - m - mo - mi - those! - she lowed.
I do not know that helped me then. For all visible and invisible reasons I had to come to be near the woman in just the same state. But whether I was untamed (anyhow I would choose this road?!) whether a star washing me protected, whether as my grandmother spoke: “If you, or your parents did someone good, it by all means will protect you the necessary minute“.
- And - and - and - ou - at! - I shouted.
In my head with an improbable speed, grumbling and outvoicing each other, Rigoletto`s damnations, the Russian mat and the Azerbaijani curses mixed up! But for some reason I gave out absolutely unexpected:
- Plague - and - and on both of your houses - and - and! - I began to yell Mercutio`s words and with his bravery rushed off on robbers. Those became stupid. However, their victim too. Still! From depth of the rustling avenue, through gentle sighs of poplars on them the shaggy fury in a red dress rushed and shook over a-headed bag!
Neither Mercutio`s heat, nor eagerness to fight of a red dress, of course, helped if it was more guys if they were slightly more dense. But the passion rules over the worlds! In my rush of an impact was more, than at group in three persons! Besides, on my party there was a surprise - the companion of a victory! Criminals left, having left the victim alone with me. Ha! They did not even try to pursue us!
- Oh! Oh - y - y! - the woman began to cry and zaikat, pressing to herself a bag.
- In militia it is necessary! Where do you live? - I panted, but knew that I am very good this minute. Role Robin of Goode added to me weight in own eyes, and the flush on cheeks shaded a dress.
- Oh, child, oh! - the woman continued to hiccup. - Oh, about a cemetery, oh!
- Then to us on the road! - The determination inspired me. From Robin of Goode I turned into Susanin in others city. Having rounded the tram line, we came to the road conducting to a cemetery. Tops of monuments and an outline of hotel seemed. I held the woman under a lokotok. She was beaten by a small shiver, but legs surely walked towards a cemetery.
- We where? - I asked.
- I live here, - she said in low tones and showed on small to a witness mark at an entrance on a cemetery. - Come, do not disdain. I am a watchman rather of a storozhikh here.
Only in 20 with small years, at the person who got used that life smiles to him, and not waiting from it for anything bad, such reckless udalstvo is possible. A twilight cemetery in others city, the unfamiliar woman inviting me to the original house - what can be zamanchivy?!
Adventurous fire flared in me. I quickly calmed myself the fact that I have no right to leave the woman after the postponed stress one, and bravely walked nearby.