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Saturday, December 3, 2016

Women


Was beautiful. Leaned in currency prostitutes. It was in Soviet times.

What and who’s — currency prostitute? Woman despatch to the rich foreigners. An ordinary tourist on a luxury prostitute will not go bankrupt. In the “national” and “Cosmos”, and Komsomolskaya hotel “Eaglet”, a contingent of girls mild behavior was selected. But the work of moths at these hotels were not limited to sex services. Girls were not just davalki with three stations or from Mytischi. In a country where communication with foreigners equated to ideological betrayal, contacts were allowed only if the requirement is to “knock”. The relevant competent authorities vigilantly oversaw a staff of “girlfriends” and demanded the report of their investigations together with guests from abroad in time. Otherwise — away from the panel!

It’s hard to imagine how much humiliation befalls prostitutes, how many compromises they have to make with oneself and power. But the beauty, which have been the target. She wanted to get pregnant not from the wretched compatriot (fellow citizens valued low: opportunists with zaikivka antics and zero function of the prostate gland — so they did the Communist Danilovka), and a representative of the free world — because it is a different breed: krasotulya formed, their own masters, not like the submissive order of the authorities or the Communist party stuck. From this muscular Mustang-businessman-tennis player, a graduate of Oxford or Yale, she wanted to carry and give birth. Genes will always appear, will always win, her child will be talented, energetic, intelligent, persistent in achievement of the high prospects.

I saw, from whom she became pregnant, really white teeth, tall, slender, with a heavy jaw, the expensive shoes, jacket, tie. With gold cuff links and a fancy watch. A stubborn look cold grey eyes seemed to read owner of steel of the pupils do not give anyone anything.

About his intentions, she didn’t tell him. It was a pathetic hope to cling, to twine the ivy, to pin down. Wanted genes, only genes. Any kind of financial assistance is not expected. With the problems I was hoping to handle myself.

Birth. Could not get enough on podrostkovogo boy. He was like a father. Proud, haughty, gray-eyed, with thick hair and a stubborn jaw. Dressed to the nines, had the opportunity to buy things (like buying first for yourself) the visitors, some regulars, after learning about the child, brought her gifts. Know how to get along with people, to her warm attitude, did not count litter, saw human qualities, intellect, mind.

The boy was a good student. Managed to determine it in the elite (as they said, “special”) school. Were language skills, mathematics. All as she had planned: genes proved themselves. He, no doubt, will surpass classmates surpass them in all respects, it is waiting for a fantastic future. Recorded in the tennis section, were taken to court and in the pool. Drove to a concert in the art gallery.

But there nedouchtenny nuance. In the families of peers, where he had been, could not help but wonder: how single mothers funds on expensive clothes, sportsektsii, taxi? Who is she? Found out easily. Refused the boy from their homes. Friends began to avoid it. Bite.

The child also wanted to know: what is your mother? She lied. But classmates have done it. In it, the son of a whore, slim, loving mother, occurred breakdown. Lacked the intelligence and magnanimity to appreciate the sacrifice — in the name of his own good impulse. Experiment. Began to shame Sluts.

Time flowed quickly. With years of clients diminished. I had to live not as freely as before. Financial problems cornering. Tucked options of marriage. It was rejected because, first, all have not thought of compatriots as equals, and secondly, because I feared: a good father to her child, none of the candidates won’t.

Sometimes came the one who was the real father. And, of course, stirred the desire to tell him, to acquaint the boy with his patron, refused to change his life. A change was necessary: a bad domestic company and the athletes of the ski section, where he moved in deeper delayed child. But accept the child the message that his father is English? This could cause his fragile psyche unbearable blow. Injury, from which he cannot recover. And she didn’t say anything — no child, no lover.

Passed some more years. Ridiculous, first of which seemed believable and the romantic legend that his father — a famous nuclear physicist — died oblocinskis on the ground, the teenager himself has to laugh. She did not argue. Less remained between him and her gentle confidence. In his intonations, increasingly, through anger, mockery.

Got a job in the same Orlenok — hostess. Helped Committeeman, which was supervised by her former activity, and sympathized with her. Gradually he began to cohabit with her — in the room where they were not ordered wiretap. He was married. To itself it ersatz husband was not invited: I would think the son? The Committee members tried to define “fatherless” as they called the boy to military school, but the boy ran away from there, he disappeared, he returned in rags, ispiti, with broken teeth.

Started stealing things out of the house. He was convicted for the robbery of the kiosk. The Committee members stood up, asked for him, so the punishment was reduced to a minimum. But the natural mind and the nous of the father-the businessman expected a poor woman, helped the boy to put together a band and organize a big Scam. Then the Committee members were powerless.

Came perestroika. Came freedom. Gray’s biological father again visited her. A Frank conversation. Trudge to the unknown son in the far Northern colony, the English did not want to.

Where, in any hut, on a parallel vanished outstanding genes?

Gelendzhik

The sound of this geographical designation you hear me now sinister vikane sharpened knife.

Gelendzhik — a huge, crowded resort, crowded hanging everywhere (often near bus stops) slogans: “On Kuban the law — children coming home at 22.00”, “the Love of a mother, the Motherland of Kuban — unshakable concepts”, “the Future of children is in our hands”, “Sport is life”… Really, is it the truth? And who would argue? “Russia — the country-the winner”. The winner of what? Who? When? However, it didn’t matter. Just the winner and that’s it. It is important to hammer into the brain of a thesis on the hat like a sharp nail. But the names of wine shops in pleased surprise and variety: “Alkotek”, “God’s dew”, “Green”, probably by Association with the serpent…

I settled on the edge of this Paradise, named “the Blue Bay”, in a beautiful, secluded, located between two hills oasis. In the morning went down to the beach along the path among the crooked pines and thickets of raspberry, back when I started flying fireflies.

Lying spread out over a grey small pebbles towel, watching the tourists, fuming horizon with its bulk carriers, frolicking near the buoys Dolphin… But soon the passive pastime of bored. Besides Dolphin found beached from the water — apparently, he doesn’t frolic and fatten determination, preparing to suicide.

A beat-up bus I got to the centre of the capital. Walked along the waterfront, bypassing the screen, in the same manner to perform the monuments: Lermontov, Assol of “Scarlet sails”, “the Tourist” with antiquated camera and the Old light Keeper” with copper kerosene lantern in his hand. Wandered to the lobby of the huge hotel, where he hoped to be hydrated. But the bar was closed. I sat down in the armchair.

Considering the mosaic panels and pictures on the walls, got carried away. And then I was approached by a girl in a short robe:

Would you like a haircut?

I thought, why not? She was cute. And I had nowhere to rush. However, her face was spoiled by a small transverse scar.

During the haircut, the conversation wound around the unusually hot weather, unusually high prices in the market and misery the fashion. I said, as the hairdresser spends his free time? She said no way.

Why?

— No desire to have fun: mother is ill, younger brother is a drug addict. Someone needs to make…

Informing about it, it is because of the previous one told about the recent agog resort incident: the bride and groom before the wedding, rushed to the open sea on motorbikes and ran into the ship.

Due to a stroke… I pulled the heads Off both, ” she said. The doctors screamed when they brought the body with such not had to face.

— Did you see it? incredulous, I asked.

At this point the salon was wheeled in a wheelchair guy. He deftly and routinely administered. He glared at me sullenly and turned to the mistress:

— Get your haircut?

— I will be busy for a long time, ” she said.

Pushing the bulky wheel chair, the guy left the room. Seventh sense I get: the two of them spoke not about what was said. Mowing was not required invalid: he was briefly, very briefly brainwashed.

Some time after the invasion, we were silent. The hairdresser frowned. She, I think I was going to lop a zero; I stopped her and reached for my wallet to pay. Imagining the gravity of the life of this slender girl: found wanting mother, almost cavalier-disabled, — generously tipped. And asked the question just to finish the conversation started:

— Who were those two? Well that hurt…

She replied, not in the way, so I’m not immediately understood:

You were not considered, cheated right and left. And before the wedding was drunk, threatened with a knife: if they change — slaughter. He’s getting married, and I told him don’t change…. Well, I sent it away… goodbye. And he angrily knife in me on the cheek slashed.

And showed a scar. Then added:

— Not crashed — it would have been life? He would then to me, then from me to her Masta.

Her face distorted painful grimace.

Now he goes and goes? — I guessed. — He, therefore, died, survived?

— You are talking about? — she exclaimed, — Oh, the groom? No, he didn’t have a chance. Drunk again, probably, chase the waves started. The head was never found. You about who is in a wheelchair? So it’s brother. Narkologa. He needed the money. If you require ashamed. Now again are. But I do not complain. Earn enough. I have no desire to have fun…

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