Stories, like completely different, especially between them such intervals of time that for a long time could not decide whether to combine into one.
end of the eighties. I went for mushrooms. They came far from the first. For several kilometers on the side of the graviola are cars standing. All the people in the forest. Finally, I crashed into the tail of a man. On the back shelf, under the glass, lies a police coat. Here, I say, next to mentha and the car to leave safer. We go out, explore the waters and go deep into the forest. The entire coastal territory, all, has long been checked and melted. When they found the first mushroom, they went to hell.
Slowly, untouched spots began to appear. No, it’s not about mushrooms.
When we, tired but satisfied, returned to the car, a picture opened before us – next to the six, which with a police coat, is dining with the same company as us – two men with their ladies. They have more mushrooms than we do, but their mood is much worse. Damn to be honest.
And the reason for their bullshit is that the car on their left side is on the wheels, and the right on their belly. Return to the bracelet, which was used by someone as a hoodcrat. They greeted. With anxiety, I walked around my car.
Thank God, it is okay. Even houses in place.
Here - says one of the men - specifically put the companion's fur under the glass, and the parasites - the thieves, apparently, did not notice it and stole it. If you saw this shirt, you would be hurt, not I.
It is unlikely - I say - rather, your armor, the police, as an object of security, acts in the city and then only on honest people, and in the woods, for the criminal element, it acts, rather, as a red stick on a bull.
Here is B! The driver turned to his friend. It would be better for you to put her on the top of this frizzle and collect mushrooms in it. Only the mushrooms would definitely scare you and run away. His powerless anger had no limits.
His comrade, apparently, himself understood this without my irony and sneezes with guilty appearance.
I put it in the luggage. I have everything in place.
Take the stock and do not burn. He took his own stock and asked where he was from.
They themselves.
It turned out that we didn’t even live very far from each other. Together, they raised the right side, threw the wheels, and... there were no bolts. None of one. That is shit! We both had to remove the screw from each live wheel and, without rush, went to the city, to the garage to the victim.
When they said goodbye and broke up, I refused the money and then the owner of the police suit extended a visit card to me. Then suddenly he asked for a pen and on the back wrote the home number. Looking at the written number, I began to imagine what a picture it was – the last four digits of the city number are all five! It was Soviet time. When I began to consider the card, my amazement had no limits: the Lieutenant Colonel of the Police. Even the Gay!
The first time I showed this card to friends, I gradually forgot. Nothing serious happened to me. On the road, he is accustomed to doing it himself.
How much time has passed, I won’t even say. The harsh nineties came. One evening I went to Volod, a colleague at work. We sit and drink tea and pretend to live.
We sat almost until midnight. Suddenly a phone. His wife, greeting, talks a little and passes the phone to her husband. Vova is very surprised from the first words and, covering the telephone, tells me that Seroga is calling, a classmate who has not been seen for a hundred years.
Suddenly, Volodya became very serious and began to clarify something. Then he tells me that Serogah came to Krasnodar to his parents from
Moscow, where he lived after graduating from the MSU. He arrived in a car and just had an accident. His "four" was caught, and side by side struck the Volga. There are three Georgians in the Volga. Suddenly, they took the keys, the car from the scene of the accident and demand such money, which he did not even have for the whole trip. In short, you have to try to help.
I say, it is time!
What – asks Volodya – is it time to go home right away?
Yes not. I get a wallet with documents. Here is the visit card. Calling office numbers is stupid. I draw the first number and then four fifths. Not up immediately. Dico apologizes and reminds me how he himself gave me a visit card and his home number. It seemed that V.V. himself was even pleased with my night call. I briefly explain the essence. He asks where the accident happened and my name. All there, wait there.
We with Vova, hurry up to me in the car and go to the address.
The private sector. On the side of the desert street, stands the Volga. The right side is a bit encouraged. Upon seeing us, the excited Caucasians rose from the propelled car.
Where is the second car?
Dengue was brought?
We get the money, but where is the car and the driver?
Our driver also arrived. He was waiting for us in the telephone cabin.
They met. He has a high and low glasses. Now there is the term “Botanic”. This is typical him. Of course, for these half-black Caucasians, in a deserted area, with numbers in the Moscow region, it’s just a find.
Where is the car?
The car stands with the nose to the fence in the bushes. The two doors and the wing are very impressive.
The Volga, of course, will have a metal ceiling.
Conversation with the participants of the clash does not work, they require dengi and
Include an hourly counter. To argue with them about something is completely useless.
Finally, with the light of the lanterns and the blue beacon arrives the police RAFik.
The Georgians are rushing to meet the menta and, on the other hand, have their own version of the incident. The captain told everyone to remain silent and asked who was here... and called my name. The mood of our opponents changed immediately.
The captain asked for the documents of both drivers. Seroga said that the documents with the keys were taken from him and his car was driven into the palace. No damn to yourself! I admired the menus.
One of the recipients of the money prize immediately used to the Volga, gave the captain Serojina the rights and keys. On the move, he came up with a version that he himself admitted his guilt and filed the documents with the keys. The driver of the Volga had no documents on the car at all. While they explained where and why their passport, suddenly another car and also a police officer arrived. But this time it’s Uzaik, not Haish. This crew was in armor vests and machine guns. The two captains greeted each other, and the second said that a guard from the GAI battalion had asked to check how things were going. It is a painful time, especially at night.
The frightened Caucasians began to assure that they had no claims and they were ready to break up with peace.
But now is our time to go to attack – the car is new, damaged.
In short, the money on the hood, then we go. The captain helped. How much Deng demanded, so much you pay! The brunettes chorded.
The table is not. It was a whistle.
“We have no time to trade,” the captain said strictly. Or with us
You pay, or...
No time to negotiate. The money was in place. Suddenly enriched
Seroga, began to count a part of the bills to express his sincere gratitude to the local police. The captain refused, saying that the culprit should pay for the challenge. and separately.
“Haracho,” said the driver and got a note.
Are you really bad? Asked the captain. Do you hold us fools?
And how much?
- as much as for the damage - without blinking the eye announced by the captain or
...
He outlined the possible options in two words.
That must be! They found that money again. This time, the money was collected in the stock.
Can we go to TAP? The driver asks.
Then the second captain intervened:
Hi to you! Were we going here for free? Are you protected for free?
I shut the lock of the machine. The extortionists raised such a complaint that Stanislavsky himself would cry.
The first captain turned to us:
- All, with these genacvals will talk, so that they don't go after you.
Just support them. The happy path.
Soon everything was forgotten. While in Moscow, I visited Seroga a couple of times, who lived in Troitsk – very close to Moscow.
More than two years have passed.
My cousin and I went to the capital. At that time, at the beginning of each April, an international construction exhibition was held in the exhibition centre on the Red Press.
My native cousin seemed unreliable and shameful to visit the capital. We went to his Toyota, which at lunch turned 100 years old.
The trouble began in the Tula region. In Moscow, all the cash went to the box office of some car service.. already and the exhibition ended and aftermorning Easter. Finally, it seemed as if everything was fixed. While the car was on the way, we headed back. Just went to the MKAD, as the Japanese engine silenced and that was it. I remembered Serena. I persuaded my cousin that we would get to Troitsk, and there I will introduce him to a good guy, who is from Krasnodar, and will not leave us in trouble. There was no better option. Some arrived late in the evening. The door was opened by a woman. She knew me and was incredibly happy. But when Sergei came out, for some reason he ran out to meet not me, but my companion. They pressed each other and knocked on their shoulders. The world is tight – they also turned out to be classmates.
In the morning Serojah released the garage and, while we were studying the design of the Japanese injector engine, he brought the local Kulibin. Everything is foolish. In the evening, to the garage followed by Serogin the "four" came two well-trapped BMW. Brothers were raised from the salons. Serjoja, our “botanic” modestly introduced both sides to each other, explaining that they were guys from the
The sun can do anything. In some, the visible areas of the hands are well covered with far from temporary tattoos. All young people are twenty-thirty years old. Everyone is silent. The main one does not understand. Two of them went under the cap.
The others quietly dispersed who. The serpent disappeared.
Slowly the conversation began. It turned out that our Seroga is not already engaged in nuclear physics, and with friends at the institute they rented several hectares of land and are interested in growing root crops, which they breed through the nearest dining and kindergartens. They are living. Sunny boys are their roof, without which it is impossible. They solve all problems.
The “subordinate” entrepreneurs. Even if the problem came from hell on a broken pipe.
After a clock, the brothers whispered, told us not to touch anything with their hands, sat down in their basks and went off. Honestly, we were not waiting for anyone.
A car came back almost at eleven o’clock. They brought some plastic sensors and a huge incinerator from unknown technology. Time has gone in vain again. It was clear that they themselves were killing their pre-holiday time, and they were not allowing us to sleep.
Serena is with us again. We sit fighting with sleep, interrupting questions - answers. Suddenly the engine started. He earned, so quietly and peacefully whispered. The chief special began to crumble, which repeated the same mistake repeatedly, so it was so long. They refused to go with us.
We rushed to church for the Cross. They washed their roasted hands, sat down in their "Bumer" and sinked in the dark.
If it wasn’t for the mushrooms, would I meet the Sun’s Brother?