© S. Skitalec, 2019
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Solar, cheerful morning of early spring. Shirokaya Street of the big village is full of liquid dirt, pools and the spring murmuring streamlets. From a distance, from a high belltower of rural church, the joyful ringing of easter bells rushes. At the corner of the wide church area above descent to the river there is a small timbered lodge with a high porch. Near the house where recently carpenters worked, crude odorous beams lie, and it very much pleases a band of children, barefoot, with the panties which are rolled up knee-deep, with the long hair cut in a curve piece; and only the smallest of them – the three-year-old peanut – is dressed in a city way: in a jacket and картузик with tapes, in brand new shoes. In total on it brand new, elegant, festive. From a pocket the silver chain of hours is seen.
Children tore off crude bark from a beam, soft from the inside, separate it damp, gentle tapes, twist toy reins and knutik. All of them sit on a porch, busied. The Tatar, the biggest bosses. The others watch with what art it twists a crude string. Small costs below as cannot get on steps differently as on all fours.
– Vukol! – speaks Tatork small gently – what it at you on a chain?
– Hours – Vukol answers.
– Let’s have a look!
The Tatar himself took out the real silver watch from the child’s pocket, smelled them, licked and put to an ear.
– Tick! to it-bo! chevo-s there inside ticks! Ottsova, that?
– On a name-day presented! – Vukol speaks and wants to take hours back, but Tatorka sat down with them on the top step and was engaged in opening of a cover.
Children as flies, stuck around it.
Vukol very much wants to receive back hours, but he hesitates to insist and to get difficult on a porch, will not part forcibly children: all of them it is more of it.
– See you! – derisively Tatorka speaks – at hours! And what cap, with tapes yes from tsvyata!
– Rich, devils! – continued the Tatar, picking hours a knife.
Vukol offended by laughter of companions flashed to ears, removed a cap, broke from it tapes and artificial roses, threw them on the earth, crushed.
Children laughed loudly again:
– Strizhenny bare, as Tatar!
Also were engaged in hours.
In big eyes of Vukol there were tears.
The Tatar broke off both covers of hours and began to take out small screws and castors, seeking that ticks there, “inside”.
– Give hours! – Vukol shouted.
Back Vukol received them in unassembled form: all interior of hours represented a handful of fragments.
– Nothing – encouraged him Tatork – to you their houses will soil!
Vukol silently thrust fragments into a pocket.
– Give the handle, do not become angry! – tenderly Tatorka told, going down from a porch.
Vukol reconciled and flattered smiled.
– On! – he trustfully stretched a tiny hand.
The Tatar unexpectedly pressed his palm below than the waist and made impropriety.
All laughed delighted.
Vukol began to cry. It seemed to it that his hand is profaned forever. Wanted to run home, but also it was a pity to leave companions: a game in a horse with just prepared harness was assumed.
– Fool! – he told Tatorke.
– I am a fool? I will give those! To Vdar in a nose – at once blood will scatter… and to the father we will tell that you fought on the street! To you do not order to fight, and to us nothing, it is possible! What you blink? And eyes on a flat dish, do not vidt crumbs! There is a pool, washed up, exclusively! Yes something I am nasty? – The Tatar threateningly moved to it, but it was suddenly softened: – Well, an aydata in a horse to play! Three that? Vukol! You will go to my three?
– I will go.
Children, having joined hands, were built in the three. Everyone took a vozhzha in teeth. Tatorka, the coachman, really whips the three. Vukol represents pristyazhny; all rush on dirt the middle of the wide street, the brand new suit of Vukol is splashed with dirt, but the sun shines joyfully, dirt – warm, sparkles under the sun, streamlets murmur, from a harness is so fresh and smells delicious; Vukol is happy that Tatorka accepted him in a game, jumps with odorous, soft, bitterish vozhzhy in teeth, bending the head on one side as do to a horse in a pristyazhka – and suddenly, having stumbled, unexpectedly falls in dirt. The three stops, and all companions watch how it rises from a pool: liquid dirt flows from a face and hands, all its elegant suit in dirt. To cause sympathy of companions, Vukol loudly cries, standing in dirt with the stained hands bulged in the parties. But children laugh again.
– Well, spaced out more widely than a mitten! – the Tatar speaks. – I those here will stop up it!
The Tatar grabbed after the journey a handful of horse manure and wants to push to it in a mouth.
Vukol with a roar takes to heels, there, where the home porch is seen at the corner. He runs very fast, but Tatorka is much more and stronger it, on the bridge through a ditch caught up, grabbed by a collar and – about horror! – stuffed to it the mouth is full, smeared with manure of a lip and cheek. The kid even ceased to cry, convulsively bent to a stream and began to wash the person muddy water. All he was soiled and wetted through, but there is a wish to play at horses to him after all, only not from Tatorkaya. Children stand in the distance and watch how Tatorka at a slow pace comes back to them.
Suddenly on a porch the father Vukola appears. According to his face it is noticeable that the father heard his crying, perhaps, saw everything and very annoys.
Long dense curls of the father flutter downwind. He quickly goes to the son, silently takes Vukol by hands and carries away to the house. There they are met by mother and throws up the hands at the sight of the sobbing son in the suit tormented and splodgy with dirt. It without planing as the father, never scolds and does not punish; Vukol knows that mother would regret and consoled, would change clothes of him for all dry and released to play, but the father angrily discharges her, itself undresses the son and puts on the big bed veiled by bed curtains.
– Sleep! – by an imperative voice he speaks, drawing bed curtains.
Vukol long lies sobbing. If he could expect terrible appearance of the father, then would not cry on the street. He with envy hears voices of companions behind a window. It seems to it that the father did not understand his tears that it was only necessary to caress, console and again to release to play. That it is not understood, Vukol fell asleep with offensive feeling in tears.
Someone licked it damp, warm language in the lips. He woke up. On a bed to it the King got. This is his dog: for its entertainment the father got; it is small, red, with long wool and a fluffy tail, with an ostrenky muzzle, with sharp ears. Vukol embraces her, presses to a breast, and the King shchekotno licks to him an ear.
Bed curtains зашпилен pin. Mother always so does when stacks Vukol on the bed in the afternoon. Sometimes and she lays down with it, feeds him with sunflower seeds which she cracks for it. Vukol hears – someone entered the room, hears a voice of the male neighbor:
– As you want, Elizar but only that now she jammed our chicken again!
– Bill I it how many time, thought – will lag behind! – the father’s voice answers…
– Is not present if visited – will not lag behind, fox breed! Make favor, exterminate you it, steals and steals – that your fox!
Stumps are heard, the man leaves. The father slammed the door of the neighboring room too. Vukol hears how he speaks about something with mother.
Vukol did not understand sense of a conversation with the man. What does the word “exterminate” mean? To finger? Of whom the man complained? Who eats hens? Suddenly his heart clenched alarm: yes it is the King! About the King before said that she steals and eats hens!
Vukol caught easy steps of mother. The curtain was removed: mother costs and smiles the silent smile.
The king jumped off from a bed, having flashed a fluffy tail. Vukol reaches for mother. She kisses it and quietly asks:
– And who to you broke hours it?
– And you would not give!
– He took… to have a look … – Vukol justifies himself – he is big! He to me befouled a hand and violently fed with manure!.
His eyes were filled with tears again.
– Mother… it is not necessary to me a new cap! Children laugh… Tatorka fights… There is nobody to play… Only with the King… yes from Pashkaya!
– Well that! Play with Pashka, with the girl it is better, and I will banish Tatorka from our yard!
She dresses it in an everyday old suit, puts on stockings, boots.
– A new suit all in dirt at you! Be not found you with this robber!. Well, get up!.
Vukol jumped off from a bed.
The father – in a jacket, in a cap, with the gun hanging on a belt behind shoulders entered.
– Mother! Tatorka told that we are the rich. Truth?
– No, pretty, poor! Men are richer than us! We will leave from here soon! Well and you yet small, will understand nothing!.
– Tatorka does not love the rich… beats me, thinks – we are the rich!
– Fool your Tatorka! – the father interfered. – Here it will get to me – I will dig to it ears!. The thief will leave him, and it worst of all!
– Tatorka broke hours! – mother reported.
– Are guilty: entrusted the child, dressed up as acceptable… I look – and he in a pool that a pig.
– Yes it, companions such!.
– That also is! – the father sighed.
– You where with the gun?
– Yes here I want to take away a dog to smithies! Sonny! Let’s go with me, your dog! I tied her at a porch! Also you will lead itself!
– The child should not look at it! – noticed mother.
– No, let sees what for theft happens!. That since then was afraid of theft!
– Yes what else understands дитё! – mother objected.
– Anything! Let will remember that and in thoughts this Tatorka was afraid to be the thief… and that…
At a porch the King on a leash quietly sat. The father untied it and that she did not escape from the child’s hands, the free end of a rope about Vukol’s belt tied.
– Itself also conduct it and remember that she is a thief, torment is what the thief has to gain!.
Vukol bewildered listened to the father, without understanding why they go to smithies, but to go there with the father was flatter. Vukol was already there, it is close behind their house, on backs, on the river bank.
The king jumped about Vukol, trying to lick him in a face. Having caught sight of this procession from where the children coordinated by a trace in some distance undertook.
On the occasion of a holiday in smithies did not work.
Against each of them there were columns for forging of horses. Under a steep slope the river, a bend approaching close backs of houses shone. From a belltower the cheerful ringing of bells rushed.
The father shortly tied the King to one of four columns and, having taken Vukol by hand, turned back. Having passed steps twenty, he stopped and removed the gun.
– Become behind! – severely he told the son – and be not frightened – now I will shoot!
Vukol stood behind, with fear watching as it lifted the gun, put a bed to a shoulder, and without understanding why and where the father wants to shoot. Burst a shot, from a trunk fire took off. With smoke began to smell something sharp. Vukol turned pale, lips began to tremble him.
– Well, that’s all! – the father told, lowering the gun.
Through odorous smoke it was visible how on the earth at a column the King fluttered.
Without remembering itself, Vukol ran to it. The king twitched all over. From her nostrils blood streamed. Vukol loudly began to squeal, fell to it, embraced for a neck.
На этой странице вы можете прочитать онлайн книгу «Shackles», автора S. Skitalec. Данная книга имеет возрастное ограничение 12+, относится к жанру «Мифы, легенды, эпос».. Книга «Shackles» была издана в 2019 году. Приятного чтения!