Our "experimental stand", or otherwise "OIS", had a fairly large machinery park and was essentially a well-developed, small machinery enterprise. What is not surprising, the team of stallions and slugs was diverse, but completely masculine. As in any experimental production, the monthly aurals alternated with a week of worklessness. During the fasting, the men for a salary diligently brushed steel-coated tables with domino bones, fought in a "chick" billiard, or ping-pong. When the domino was bored, the guys could joke about some of the beginner masters and engineers. When Fedka had his colored wet asphalt eight, bought from the Gypsies, forged in a motorcycle, they joked.
Quietly approached ten to look, one talk distracted, eight healthy obaltus with working palms pressed from above, so that the car on all the amortizers sat, and when they dropped abruptly, another obaltus on the concrete floor thrown the excess iron. The car jumped and ringed at the same time. Fedka, thinking that something important has fallen away, those Gypsy car sellers swore half an hour in one breath. Harmlessly so
“They climbed.” Everyone except Fedora.
The biggest authority in the group is Stepanic. The boss and the workers. He arranged it with iron. Stepanic is a sleeve. And not a simple healer, but also a complete universe. On all machinery from the presence tower to the DIP-500 and the simplest mattress saw could outperform any specialist. If in the drawings a mistake or uncertainty was seen, he corrected it himself. Quietly, without nerves and so that no one of the designers was dissatisfied. He did everything right and had an approach, because. As many as I knew, I never made a mistake.
All of our design "researches in engineering", if Stepanic handed them, worked properly and reliably. I never fled from work, but I was looking for it. Sometimes I could even stay overnight when Aural.
The only thing Stepanic avoided was the partnership and public work. During the meeting, Stepanic disappeared. Not by magic, but normally: the buildings of the OIS - former carriage workshops, residential houses and the figure he knows what else, connected by common corridors, basements, roofs, crossings and accessories, could "disappear" a couple of battalions, and not one clever, old slug.
Feddy is the other. This is not Stepanic. Everything comes from the reluctance to work. There are thousands of painful causes. Not that he was sick. On the contrary, even a very healthy thirty-year-old buggy. The Imaginary Truth. He sneezes at the medical center. Go back to the same examination again. And if the finger, do not give God, scratches without injection from the tetanus, it will not move from the place. So it will stand a pillar so that the infection does not spread throughout the body. But a public worker who needs to be sought in the day with fire. It is very emotional if you collect money for a gift, read political information, or write a note in a health newspaper.
If the assembly, then until the end of the session will vote and the last will leave. Not working at all. And his jokes were angry and ridiculous. and all k
Stephanie is indifferent. To pour epoxy in the closet from the closet, to support the door in the sorting bar, or to pour salt salt in the table soup, it is Fedika, not even to check.
His men warned. and masculine. Leave Stepanic in peace, let’s find out. I did not take. Stepanic has endured until now. Until at lunch from a beloved chair did not fall and stinked heavily: at sixty you will not fall beautifully. The foot was signed. Pizdec to you, Fedea, Stepanic quietly spoke, bored. This was the first time he heard his mother’s word at work.
Fitzgerald, of course, did and forgot about it. And in vain.
A day later, when Fedka came to work, he found a thick book in the size of a school album for drawing in his workplace. The Syphilis, 1967 edition. Bluntly tapping the book with his finger, and making sure that he is not surprised, Fedka asked whose. No one knew. Until lunch, the book remained untouched, but Fedykin's yesterday's "Evening" with a crossword, someone led. In the domino, Fedk was not taken by value, in the billiard was a full set, and in the ping pong he did not know. Fedi became bored and he took the book.
After missing a preface about the role of the CPSU and the Soviet government in the victory over syphilis in the USSR, Fedka went into reading.
The book turned out to be with pictures, pictures so terrible and colorful, and the text so colorful and vividly described the severity and completely incurable consequences of the neglected syphilis in the imperial and capitalist society that Fedka penetrated. He listed the pages, paying special attention to the description of symptoms and methods of prevention. From lunch in the workshop, he was late for two hours, was exhausted by the master, for the first time could not come up with an explanation for his wrongdoing and repent.
The next day, everyone in the dining room saw that a spoonful and a glass of Fedka had been brought from the house. He said he did not say goodbye to anyone in the morning. Feedka stopped using the shower and would go home dirty if he worked. For a week, Fedor was blacker than the clouds, scaredly staring at the sides and passing the metres by one and a half. Someone told me that he saw Fedka in the toilet near the mirror, looking at the pimple on his nose in a large lump. And when he had herpes on his lips, commonly called a fever, he disappeared for three days.
I returned relaxed, calm and cheerful. He even showed Stepanic a certificate from Sokolina Mountain about his absence of syphilis, although he did not talk to him. Fedor’s soul was singing.
The next morning he found a book on his book “Ishemic Heart Disease at a Young Age.” Or somehow.
A month later he resigned. To the chairman of the trade commission, who did not want to break up with such a valuable worker, he explained that he could not work in such a bad team where no one wants him to even measure the pressure and very nervous work. The Chairman of the Committee failed to convince him. and sorry.
Because I personally saw another medical book in Stepanic’s machine box, on the cover of which were large letters:
“The schizophrenia.”