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23.09.2012
Business Class Cemetery
“The tongues of fire will lick us.”
(John of Antony)
Vika is my friend’s wife, who has been flying on board for many years.
And what only did not happen to her: and burned and rolled out over the lane, even one footsteps with a deadly outcome was, about drunkards and nothing to say, but when I asked, - Which flight you remembered the most? Wika replied without thinking:
Yes, there is a terrible flight in your head, you will hardly forget. That is, the flight as a flight, went quite safely, but as I remember it, it is still terribly done.
It was in the mid-1990s.
We returned to Moscow in the summer with four pennies.
Even at the landing, I was surprised that my business class cabin was absolutely empty, only one strange passenger and all, no more soul.
And it’s so strange that if it were my will, I’t let it in the economy, not in business. A man under thirty years old, dressed in black pants and a white dirty jacket, all packed: blood, earth and green - apparently rolled in the grass. The face is also somewhat dusty, gray. No hand luggage was found on the passenger.
But he is sober, there is no reason to refuse. I smile, I greet, I sit down, I even offer to go and wash.
They climbed.
The guy asked for vodka and an apple for a snack.
I see, he moved to the neighboring chair and began to talk to himself quietly. I drank a glass of vodka, moved to the next row - the chairs were all empty.
I even wanted to ask him to stay in his place, I was afraid that the whole salon was packing up, but something stopped me, I didn’t dare, only asked all the time, “Do you want something?”
The boy wanted nothing and suddenly cried bitterly. Quietly, with whispers like a little boy.
He calmed down and again began to walk around the salon and talk to himself, as if a man-invisible was in front of him.
Here some two-hundred-kilogram aunt from the "economist", became tight and sick and decided to translate it into my "business", since he was still empty.
The happy aunt came, sat down, just opened the journal, as suddenly my only legitimate passenger approached her and whispered something to her ear.
Aunt sneezed, crossed and quickly, as quickly as her configuration allowed, left the business salon and returned to her place.
After a while, two drunk guys, walking on the plane, saw that the chic places were empty, went in and sat down. I didn’t have time to ask them to leave the salon, as my passenger jumped, said something and the men just jumped like on electric chairs and apologized and ran away.
So he was alone until the end and flew, then crying quietly, then walking around the salon and talking with empty chairs, well, an absolute schizoid.
Before landing, he called me, asked me something, and we talked.
It turned out he was not crazy.
They were twenty-three people, almost all classmates and childhood friends, they flew with the entire “brigade” for a day to negotiate, to shake up their bandit affairs.
They flew, shook...
Negotiations failed. They were all shot and it is not known where they were dug. To escape from bullets and “lost” in the forest, only my passenger managed.
He walked all the way through the empty business cemetery, smoothed the back of the chairs like marble plates and said goodbye to his friends. There will be no other graves.