I dedicate this story to my inspiration, my dear students Irma and Lisa.
That day I had a class scheduled with Lisa. Lisa is a strong student, from the physical education class, and also thinks fast. Therefore, I decided to take a walk before class to clear my head as much as possible, explain everything clearly and not make annoying arithmetic mistakes. Everyone knows that there can be nothing better than fresh air for clarity of thinking.
Three stops from my house there is a very beautiful manor house with an old park, and walking there, I always feel delighted. It seems to me like some kind of enchanted place, a portal to other worlds: the whole world is there, and this estate is separate. This impression is also supported by two sphinxes that stand on the sides of the main mansion. They add a lot of mystery to the estate. Everyone feels it and loves to take pictures with them. That's where I'll take a walk.
I get ready, drive through three stops and find myself in the manor. Yes!Golden autumn! Everything is fabulously golden and already and there are already a lot of maple leaves lying on the ground. Of these, I am remarkably able to knit wreaths.
I gather enough leaves, sit down on a stone slab next to the sphinxes and weave myself a wreath. I look up and what do I see? In the clearing in front of the mansion, a girl is sitting on a horse backwards, which is very funny, and another girl is taking pictures of her, and a third is holding the reins.
Well, of course, a photo shoot.I've always dreamed of being photographed on a horse. Therefore, I finish the wreath and, having taken a break from filming, I approach the photographer and ask if they need clients. Clients, it turns out, are needed, and we agree that when they are done with the girl, they will take a picture of me.
Oh-by-by!! Look what she's doing!! This horse is rearing up! This candle, it turns out, is called. I never dreamed of it! And I want that too! When they finish with this girl, I put on a wreath and try to climb on a horse. I can't do it on the first try, but it turns out that these two girls know where everyone is in the neighborhood there are all the fallen trees, and from one thick log I still climb into the saddle and find myself riding on Rene.
Rene is the name of the horse. He's an absolutely wonderful horse. All black, purebred Andalusian breed, Spaniard. The girls tell me Renee's story. At first he was the horse of Luzhkov's wife, the mayor of Moscow, then he was sold somewhere, then sold somewhere again, and then, finally, the current owner bought him. And contains. Keeps in the stable at the manor.
I'm wondering how much it costs to keep such a huge beast?? Well, they explain to me that here, with the help of photo shoots, Rene earns it's own food. Renee nods, picks it up with it's lips and starts chewing on a nice bunch of fallen maple leaves. The hostess looks at Rene with annoyance and says: "Well, of course, they don't feed you at the stable!". I try to stand up for the nice horse: "Well, it's still fresh here... natural... "And the oats in the stable are not natural or something?" - the hostess objects. I'm sorry I didn't bring it for for Renee, some treats, well, there, black bread with salt, but the hostess explains that she has everything of her own and money is better. Such impeccable logic calms me down. So, we are photographed against the background of the main mansion, against the background of the sphinxes, against the colonnade, and then Rene makes a candle, that is, stands on its hind legs. My soul sinks into my heels.
But it's okay, I can stand it and I don't fall off Renee at all. The hostess reproaches the horse a little, we take pictures further, and then they warn in advance that Renee will make a candle now. I hurriedly make a convulsive smile so that the face does not turn out to be incomprehensible, and then Rene rears up. My smile widens, but despite my heart sinking into my heels, I still don't fall off the saddle.I have an idea to make a candle again so that the face is not so tense, terrible, but the photographer assures me that the face was good. Well, shall I believe it?I have no strength to resist, I am already stunned enough by the "candle".
So, we finish at the mansion, and the owner of the horse says that I am the first client with whom Rene himself climbed the colonnade, and how are the others? She explains that they climbed in such a way that Rene was separate, the client was separate, and then client climbed on him.
Good. Now we go to the alley, finish shooting in the alley and then a girl comes out on the path and says: "Hello, Galina Viktorovna!".
Ouch...Everything is fine, but my eyesight is either minus five or minus six, I haven't checked for a long time. I tell her, will you come over, please?She answers: You don't remember me anymore, did I study with you? I repeat:Will you come here, please? The girl is backing away for some reason. I repeat once again, already despairing,:and please come here! This is the only chance for me to consider who this girl is. But the girl backs away more. Well, I somehow involve her in a dialogue and it turns out that she just didn't hear me. She thought she heard, move away, please!
I'm very annoyed, I just really wanted to see who it is, and now I recognize her: it's Irma. Irma says that she also went out for a walk to refresh her mind. I pay off the photographer and Renee's hostess and find out where Irma is going. Since we are on the way, I volunteer to accompany her a little and find out how things are going.
We're moving on. To reach our destination, we need to walk across the bridge leading across the river. There are two of them: one I know where, old and crooked, without a railing, and the other, it used to be even worse, has now been repaired, as I later found out, but I do not know how to get to it from here. And Irma, on the contrary, knows where the second bridge is. I suggest we take a shorter path and a broken bridge; I recognize a familiar turn, we are almost at the goal, and then a guy in indeterminate jeans and an indeterminate sweater comes out on the path, actually I don't like his pose, and so I head straight towards him.
Irma says: I'm not going there! Why did he take the gloves out of his pocket and put them on? The weather is not cold at all! Only then I remember, really, I also looked at it, but... watching is one thing, but seeing is quite another! Having elementary logic, was it possible to worry? But instead, I suggest to approach to get acquainted and ask him why the fish needs an umbrella. It's okay, right??
Irma backs away from the path I know to an unfamiliar one. What about me? I'm not leaving her, am I?Irma is a beautiful girl, everything could happen... I follow her into the wilds. There, I say, people with a child and a dog are coming, let's follow them, and we'll pass. Unfortunately, people turn the other way. And we're turning off again, it's not clear where.
We wander for a while, until Irma says: I'm lost. I congratulate her on the beginning of Ivan Susanin's career and laugh. And then three types in indeterminate jeans and indeterminate sweaters come out to meet us. I immediately suggest that you come up to get acquainted and ask for directions. Wow, huh?
Irma says: I will not go there, and again backs into the wilds connecting the estate park with the forest.
I must say, our city is the birthplace of maniacs. Very close in the area of this estate lived a maniac, the most famous after Chikatilo, who killed 19 people. He decided that the mission of his life was to clear the world of prostitutes. He killed for this a pensioner who was carrying home fishes bought at the market. As soon as he saw fishes, he immediately realized that there is prostitution here. Killed a boy, mentally disabled, also a prostitute by his opinion... In those days there was no democratic humanity towards people like him, and he was sentenced to be shot, and quite rightly, in my opinion. At the trial, he was not at all upset, but said that he would come back. Look at him, he thought he is clever!
And fifteen years ago I was walking home from the local train through the forest. I was working at school then and I didn't have money for the bus, so I walked for my health. And I've been walking like this for 13 years. And here it's February, spring languor is already in the air, although it's getting dark early. From the local train, a small crowd moved into the forest, probably the same penniless
nobles, like me, and I, as a precaution, follow it. In the crowd, I found out from one woman that she was going to my area of the city, and offered to go together. We are walking, so the weather is wonderful, and suddenly a guy in indeterminate jeans and an indeterminate jacket turns out from behind us with a puny plastic bag in his hands and passes forward. To shorten the journey, I tell my fellow traveler jokes, but she doesn't laugh: she suddenly starts vomiting.
And I see only now that this woman has been drinking heavily, and she stinks strongly of alcohol. The sight is quite repulsive. I think I'll go on, there's already three-quarters of the way passed, I'll get there. How wrong I was, I realized that later!!
I go ahead and catch up with that guy. Not to be scared, right? There is clear need to be worry and go back, but I philosophically ponder why a young guy does not overtake an elderly woman? I'm going slower, I think he's going to go ahead now, but he's also starting to go slower. I take the gas can out of my bag and put it in my pocket. It was the wrong decision. I should have held him at arm's length!
The guy turns around and rushes at me. He taps my pocket with his hand. I watch with restrained interest, as if in slow motion, as a spray can, describing such a beautiful curve, dives in a snowdrift. Traitor. I paid a hundred rubles for it! When everything was fine, it didn't leave me, rode me for it's pleasure, traveled! While I keep my eyes on the can, this guy checks the second pocket. Look at him, he thinks he is clever!
After that, he picks me up in his arms and drags me away from the path. Pay attention, women who want to be carried on their hands!! This is not as desirable as it seems! Here he carries me, as he thinks, enough, puts me on the snow and starts trying to unbutton the buckle of my coat. Naive! I unbutton it myself only on the third attempt. Clearly feeling his disappointment, I ask if he is not afraid? After all, there are a lot of people walking along the path, they will catch them, they will do with him...what does he thinks, guess from three times? And in general, what do you need? Money? Money, he says, is not necessary. Naive! Money is always needed. I'm mentally cheering up, so my three thousand in my backpack will be intact. So we are talking enthusiastically together, when suddenly he turns around and says: someone is coming!
Well done! With my eyesight, it would be unreal to notice it! I ask where?? He shows: there!!
And rushes to run. I manage and grab his sleeve. Where to? I say. When you dragged me into a snowdrift, you knocked off my beret, and my eyesight is bad, I won't find it in the dark!He stops, picks up the beret, politely hands it to me (I lost it later, I had to write out a new one from Aliexpress) and makes another attempt, but I grab his sleeve again.
And the can, the can!! It costs a hundred rubles, and you knocked it out of my hands!! This is now a small amount of money for me for a hundred rubles, but then it was a direct loss! Then he realizes that my imagination will not stop at the spray can, and he was completely right, I still had juche ideas. And I've already dream, that after he'll find me a spray can ... Then I'll come up with something else so cool...
Apparently, having taken my quite fair demand for ordinary or, conversely, refined mockery, he breaks out and runs in a certain direction.
It happened that the woman who was walking with me first is catching up with us.Apparently, her vomiting ended, she caught her breath and continued on her way.I go back to the path, I apologize in every way that I left her, but of course she is offended. And she left. And I follow her, along the path, get to my house. I then met her several more times, on the bus and on the street, she was no longer angry with me. I wanted to thank my savior somehow, at least give her a box of chocolates, but she didn't even understand what I was talking about...
I also came home safely, and that's when I got sick. Now I started to vomit. And vomited for another week. Every time morally, I mean. When there was time to think about HOW it could have ended. And my imagination is far from the poorest, unlike my wallet in those days.
In about a week I'm going to the police to complain about the offense. I am being referred to our precinct officer of that time. But, says the district police officer, - he didn't rape you, did he? And I," I object to him, "had to wait until he raped me?"
I'm trying to convey my idea more prominently: I say, I'm 48 years old, maybe it wouldn't be so critical, but he won't stop there! And if he will meet your 14-year-old daughter tomorrow, then you will treat her with a therapist for the rest of your life, no money will be enough! I don't demand that you catch him immediately, but at least notice the places where he walks.
Well, of course, it's right that you came, he answers me, read me a lecture how should one behave on a dark way and than we part.
Then a neighbor told me that someone was raped on this path and then someone was caught: at dusk, a substitute walked on the path from the train, walked, walked, and finally he met her, but they were already waiting for him. And that man lived about where my forest acquaintance ran from me. Well, the Ministry of Health warned him...
Meanwhile, Irma and I are walking along an unfamiliar path in the forest, where it is already getting dark solid and it is becoming more and more possible to finally get lost in the dark on a rather cold autumn night.
To raise her spirits, I tell her about both maniacs, to which Irma timidly, but very logically asks if I have a spray can with me now. I don't have anything, no spray can, no cell phone! The horror of Irma reaches its climax. And on the energy of this horror, her feet choose the right path by themselves, and pretty soon we find ourselves among unfamiliar, but still houses, not trees. Gradually they become more familiar. Irma sighs with relief and made me a wonderful photo. I kiss her admiringly on the cheek. Whether horror sharpens the sense of beauty, too...
Finally, when the houses turn out to be quite familiar, we say goodbye. Irma walking to the shop for napkins, and I am directing to the bus stop.
But I don't understand why people who look at me smile and their faces brighten. Two boys about 10 years old come up to me and say approvingly: oh, how beautiful you are! Then two more women come up and ask: is it difficult to weave such a wreath? Then I realize that in the fuss I put a wreath on my hat. He's settled in pretty well there!
I explain to them that it is not difficult at all and I am surprised that everyone does not wear such wreaths: there are treasures lying around on every corner, everyone can be crowned, there is enough for everyone. As the Japanese celebrate the cherry blossom, so we should celebrate the golden autumn. Women assure me that tomorrow they will definitely make themselves the same. I nod to them approvingly and jump into the door of the bus that came to the stop. Of course, I don't have time to take off the wreath, so I'm taking him home, riding on my hat. On the bus, no one pays much attention to me, everyone is sad, only one elderly woman, looking at me slyly, says something approving and smiles.
I get off at my bus stop, come home and pick up my mobile phone. I open the whatsapp and write a message to Lisa: Lisa, I'm sorry, I had a force majeure today!
Lisa writes back to me:I'm sorry, but the situation is as unpleasant as possible, everything happens in life, but I am extremely discouraged that you did not warn me, although I wrote earlier in the day…
This level of organization doesn't quite suit me, it was a pleasure to work, I'm sorry.
I ask, is it worth breaking up a relationship because of one mistake? And maybe she will forgive me after all and we will continue? But Lisa replies that she has already found a new teacher. Well, that's right, there are plenty of hungry tutors right now...
I promised her, as soon as I recovered from the shock, to tell her why I skipped class...Here it is, this story, in front of you...