At that time, after the Father took me from kindergarten, we jumped out of the bus on Komsomolskaya and slow down in a blue wooden grocery building, which is right at the stop, mastock from a bath standing on the adjacent side of the area.
There was no sluggish fish in the grocery. Little chairs and ice cream - too. Therefore, while the Father, having risen into the edge of a high countertop, started a completely uninteresting and boring conversation with uncle unfamiliar to me, I was engaged in the study of the groisomom trading room for replenishing his own collection of sticks from the ice cream "Eskimo".
I had more than that time on it, so when my father with buddies finished all his conversations, the pockets of the autumn coat, and partly and pants were packed with chopsticks. The evening was a success. Collectible reserves waited for reinforced and voluminous replenishment.
- Well, what, tankers? Will the motors? And in the forests, on the hills, water?! Do you move to home? - Ur-Rr! We start. Chuh. Chuh-Chuh ... R-R-PR ... R-R-PR ... R-Rrr! - U-uh ... wilderness. Wildness Motor! How are we so? With empty hands, or what? You need to buy a chocolate man. Let's go - Ma-myme? .. And me?!
But the father, no longer listening, threw up, his hand, and turned towards the grocery department.
- Wow! And you have a lot of choice ... well, like, son, what kind of chocolate will buy mom? - And me? - Come on. So what would you like? Just we and mom ...
What is there to think? Without some kind of seeding with a finger - to dark blue tiles, on which a house with columns and horses on the roof and aunt in a sturdy skirt, like on TV, when the transmission is boring show, as if about the swan. Although there is no swans there at all. Only here are aunty such and uncle jump, spin and curves ...
- This one! I have already tried. Do you remember, did you buy last time at the station? There are still small-small chocolate chocolates. Each in Foil is wrapped. And in chocolate - nuts. Tasty!
- How don't remember? Then you have fallen everything yourself, and my mother never brought anything. Now and give her ...
How is she? And me? ..
- Here, heard, Serubyazy? We are "inspiration" to the tile ... Yes, you are not smaller, leave that silver yourself. We will listen and something sweet. Well, no - so will be! Hold, Kostik. So understood? How come home - give mom ...
Yeah ... how. Wait ... and through the lip, with a stuff:
- I will not give ... my chocolate ...
* * * After the bright premises of the shopping store in the late September evening seems impenetrable. Well, rare lights, that on the square and then, at the railway crossing, they still try to oppose the impending night with their small electrical sills. But it turns out they are bad.
The light of small electric sunshine is blurred by an oblique rain mesh, which something quietly and vigorously whispering puddles, a solid mirror of the silence of the wasteland, which stretches from the very moving to the barracks of our alley.
Lanterns near the move remained behind the back. Dark. Only somewhere far away is ahead, at the first barrack, it swings on a weak wind white electric point of a multifricted street lighting lamp.
Looking under feasting, slapped on the puddles of the board of paving flooring. Slam slap ... Cap Cap ... This is already cold droplets of the rain per collar coat. Although it is cold, raw, sick and without them ... And as quietly, like a rain, just not puddles, and my nose:
- I will not give ... I will not give ... my chocolate! I will not give ... - Kostya ... how do you not give? We bought my mother ... - To me! My chocolate. Will not give it back…
Tightly grabbed under the arms, again the father - up and to his hand. Dark, nothing can be seen. But in voting is heard - angry.
- Spit. We come home, give the tile of chocolate mom. Okay?
The courage to the heels of courage is enough only to squeeze out of themselves:
- N-n-not ... - Then let's chocolate here. Come on, come on…
Such a delicious tile is already at the father. And what is it? The hand on which to sit is much more convenient than to stall on the wet boards of the sidewalk, goes forward, and the one in which chocolate ... Looks like, back ... F-F-F-y. And a little bit of time, somewhere far, far in the dark and terrible darkness of the wasteland ... spit-ush ...
- BUT? - We bought chocolate mom. If you do not want to give it to her, then no one will have this tile. And you will not be too ... - A-Aaaa ...
Treaty tears of bitter disappointment along with cold rain droplets - in the face ...
- A-aaa ...
* * *
And this is "ah-ah a" - all over the wasteland. According to the lane - to the Barack himself. And in the corridor, where there are still no necessary sledges, shot down by the tenants themselves drawers for storing potatoes and other vegetables, and almost every door on the wall hanging trough and ribbed boards for washing, even louder, in a voice ...
So that mom heard. And broke. Why did you throw out? How do you find it in such darkness now? And in the pool. Plumulously. No, you will not find.
- A-aaa ...
* * * In the bright rectangle of the doorway - a frightened face of the mother, which is getting closer, closer ... And now quite near. Vrowd to yours. Eyes to eyes. Warm hands pressed to themselves, and in the eyes, behind glasses, a mute question:
- What happened, son? - A-aaa ... - What happened to you, men? Clell who can tell? - A-aaa ...
And already the father, from somewhere on top:
- Why are you keeping silent? You ask you? Hat, so tell. Speak yourself ... - N-n-not ya-aa ... T-you did you like.
- Who threw out? What threw out? Where to? Is it possible to achieve from you today?! - N-on-deserted ... sho ... sho-collad ku ... - What kind of chocolate?
- We are you a chocolate tile in the "blue" grocery in the Komsomolskaya bought. By himself, by the way, chosen, oxo-it ... And you refused to give you to the parish! Well, I…
- Did you throw out? - What? Let the chrome grow? Fadda-beef saline cucumber. On the floor lying around ... no one eats him! No one. - Oh, Duri-Ila Healthy ...
* * * And after dinner, stacking to sleep before covering the blanket, fed and in the ear:
- Son ...
Eyes wider and eyebrows up ...
- It was necessary to agree with the dad and bring chocolates home. I would still like ... I gave it to you ...
And warm, smelling delicious junk pancakes - to your cheek ...
Author - Konstantin Kucher
Source - Springzhizni.ru.