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– Са ne fait rien! (it’s okay), " she said with a bitter grin in pure French.
He understood her words, even though he had never heard live French so closely before, and, guiltily, made his way to the door. Before he left, he looked back once more and saw her looking out the window with a glass of champagne.
The door seemed to close of its own accord, the lock clicked, and he went out. The elevator, the marble staircase, the disgruntled stares of security, the terrible wind, the snow, the saving subway, the crush, the crowded minibus, the entrance to the store to buy milk, the doorbell, and on the shabby threshold a pregnant wife with red eyes from tears and a bunch of children having fun around.
“I thought something had happened!” I already wanted to call the police, “she said.
“Sorry, the phone just went dead,” he said defensively, looking away and turning his attentionto the kids.
“Dad, did you buy some milk?” “they’re hanging on to him. “Dad, you promised me a chocolate bar.”
“Dad, did Mom think you were hit by a train… Tam is so slippery.
“No, not really. It’s all right, I love you… " he answered them.
He hurriedly hugged each baby, hugged his plump wife from pregnancy and kissed her for some reason on the top of her head. Tears streamed down her unshaven cheeks, unable to contain themselves. He didn’t even mind that he smelled like expensive perfume and probably had a lipstick mark on his neck. He was comforted by the thought that he had bought some milk, that he had not lived another day in vain. And in those moments, it seemed to him that outside the window the southern sun and in its precious rays ripe vines ripen against the azure of the warm sea.
A cigarette for two
Someone tapped her gently on the shoulder. Laura opened her eyes a crack and saw a gray-haired old man in a uniform. The guide smiled and, twitching his cockroach-colored moustache, said respectfully:
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The train is going to a dead end.
Laura rose from her chair. The guide noticed that the woman was a little confused and, coughing into her hand, called after her.
– I advise you not to take a taxi at the train station. They rip off half the skin there.
“My husband meets me.”
Laura adjusted her shawl. It was cold. Sparse snowflakes swirled over the deserted platform. No one met her. Laura hesitated, puffing out clouds of milky steam, and headed for the exit. Moscow was dozing. Tomorrow was the first working week. The station building flickered with garland lights. Confetti and firecrackers were trampled on the floor. There was a Christmas tree with mirror balls in the waiting room. Beneath it, Santa Claus was bored, his hat askew, and mumbling “Happy Christmas"under his breath.
– Where is Russia heading?! They can’t find a normal Santa Claus, “the janitor was indignant.
He swung the mop lazily, leaving a shiny floorin his wake, and then returned after a while, because if one impatient passenger walked around here, all the routine work went down the drain.
“Careful, it’s slippery!” He shouted to the passenger who was hurrying to the exit, but Laura didn’t even look at the janitor, trying to slip unnoticed past the crowd of taxi drivers.
His shout aroused their attention, and they swooped down like ravens on the poor woman, blocking her passage. As if on the last piece of bread, they rushed, hungry, predatory, with sharp noses, pushing each other with their elbows.
“The devils have inherited it again! the janitor swore and threw the hated mop aside.
It must have been a bad idea to quit smoking right after Christmas. The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts, as Aslambek had already smoked a pack of cigarettes today. To avoid thinking about the bad habit that was killing his inflamed lung, he bought a December Playboy at a newsstandPlayboyand became even more despondent. From the cover, the beautiful Natasha, reincarnated as the snow Maiden, was looking at him. Smiling affably, she coquettishly covered her bare breasts with her hands.
The man put down the magazine. Through the cracked windowof an oldVolkswagen, he stared out at the world with the detached gaze of a hermit who was just unlucky enough to find a placeto meet people. For five years now, Moscow had become Aslam’s second homeland, sheltering his family from the persecution of bloodlines, but even here there was a distant echo of the war. Once a well-respected man, who owned a car wash in Grozny and was popular with women, the refugee now felt like a ragamuffin, surrounded by distrustful and sometimes hostile stares, every day facing the demands of the taxi mafia, which consists mainly of Caucasians. But they weren’t his brothers. These people did not honor the Qur’an. Perhaps life has made them so, but he, Aslambek, has not lost the faith that was nurtured with his mother’s milk. He was a Muslim at heart. The trials had hardened him, made him a philosopher.
At the train station, where he usually stood guard for hapless passengers hitching a ride, Aslambek could not understand why once a Russian bullet still deviated from a given trajectory and, piercing through his left lung, spared his heart. Perhaps Allah was preparing him for new challenges. Seeing a woman walking along the road with her hand raised, Aslambek quickly turned the key in the ignition and drove off with a whoosh. He was afraid that someone would get ahead of him. TheVolkswagenbraked sharply, and the man bent down to open the front door, having previously hidden the magazine in the glove compartment. Driving passengers in the back seat at night was unacceptable for safety reasons. This is the second taxi driver found with a garrote around his neck just this week.
“For a kind smile, I’lltake you anywhere in Moscow,” he said to Nalet, trying to please the stranger.
There was a slight Caucasian accent in his voice.
“Isn’t your buggy going to fall apart?” the woman cast a skeptical glance at the car.
“There’s a real German engine under the hood,” and the driver put the gas in neutral at his own risk.
The engine roared loudly.
“You’ve got a decent dent in the fender.
– This is a dent, unfortunately, from my face. There are a lot of hooligans here.
“You seem to have a strong head- " Laura smiled sweetly.“And how much is my smile worth?”
Aslambek sighed. He needed money badly.
– Sit down quickly, we will arrange. It’s not safe here.
The mention of bullies affected the woman, and she quickly got into the car, waving away the smoke in the cabin.
“Yes, Aslam has a strong head. He said proudly. – They wanted me to share the proceeds with them, but I didn’t even have the money for gas.
“Aslam…” she repeated his name thoughtfully. Do you know the city well?
“Like the back of your hand, madame.
He inhaled the pleasant perfumethat all these Russian women wear when they go out on a date, and coughed.
“Excuse me, madame, but where are you going?”
His question seemed to confuse the passenger. She thought about it, tapping her slender fingers nervously on her purse, and after a briefй pause, she puzzled the driver herself.
– Do you know where the Khovanskoe cemetery is located?
– of course. He nodded, fighting a fit of coughing. “It’s a dark place.
“It can’t get any darker,” Laura said with a grin.
The Chechen hid his concern. On New Year’s Eve, robberies became more frequent, and he heard about a gang of thugs who disemboweled gullible taxi drivers, luring them to remote areas of Moscow.
“Show me the money, if you can.” – What is it? “he asked.
Watching the passenger rummage in her purse made him uneasy.
“I’m sorry. Basic safety precautions. You bring a client in, and suddenly they throw up their hands, and what do I do? Don’t fight, right? The cops infringe on the rights of illegal immigrants and just do somethingextreme.
“Of course I understand, just turn down the radio and turn on the air conditioner.
Laura waved a bill in the driver’s face, not concealing her slight distress, and Aslam regretted his lack of confidence. They were silent all the way, and only once did the woman ask him if he was dreaming.
– What Are You!? After such a sleepless and exhausting night, I barely crawl to my bunk and fall down dead, without hind legs, like a squeezed lemon in the back room of the homeless canteen. My own mother doesn’t offer me breakfast because she knows I can’t even chew semolina. I close my eyes and fall into a bottomless abyss. Nothing but darkness. Maybe I dream about black cats, but Idon’t really see them!? he chuckled, eyeing her curiously.
“MalEvich had a similar dream. She smiled.
“Is this an acquaintance of yours?”
“Don’t you know,” the passenger laughed, “he’s an artist, and he’s famous for drawing a black square.
– These daubers are now a dime a dozen on the Arbat. For money, they will draw a parallelepiped. If I had discovered the ability to draw, I would not hesitate to draw only beautiful women.
– Let’s hope for your success.
The headlights of oncoming cars were blinding. The driver was squinting and looking at his passenger out of the corner of his eye. He liked her. It was warm in the cabin, and the snowflakes were melting into water droplets, shimmering like frog eggs on a woman’s shawl.
“And what do you dream, madame?” – What is it? “he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
“In my dreams, I often talk to a man who loves me very much, but is afraid to admit it… " and the woman stopped again.
– Maybe someone really loves you and is afraid to admit it? – What is it? “he suggested, when there was no answer.
The journey was tiring. Laura closed her tired eyes and drifted off. Her brows were furrowed in her sleep, and Aslam could hear her whisper softly, but he couldn’t make out what his passenger was saying over the noise of the road. Laura dreamed that she was still sitting on the train in an empty car. A strange man, wearing a hat that obscured his face, sat down in the far corner of the room.
– The last train almost ran away from me… – he hummed some paraphrased words from the hit song.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t run away! Where do you live? Laura asked the stranger.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m temporarily living in your imagination.”
“Why temporarily?”
“It’s a sad story. Do you have someone who loves you?
– I don’t have true love… Lots of likes and hobbies. But I think that everything passes with time.
“I can’t live without love. The emptiness in my heart suffocates me. Can I fall in love with you? the man asked sadly.
“What am I going to do about it?” We don’t even know each other.
– Maybe one day in a difficult moment you will remember that someone far away, but native is waiting for you and sincerely loves you, and it will become easier.
“Where are you now?”
– I don’t know. I listen to the wheels roll over the snow-covered tracks, and the steel screech calls me into the distance, lulling me to sleep. The car is almost empty. Outside the window, the dim lights of lonely stations flash by. A cold woman is sleeping across from me, wrapped in a shawl. Sometimes she shudders uneasily, as if seeing something terrible and painful in a dream…
Laura woke up, and even though the driver was driving carefully, they were swayed to the right on the shoulder of the road and almost swept into a ditch. An ice crust formed on the asphalt, and Aslam did not have time to change his tires for winter. The cemetery was located away from residential areas, and, what this woman might have forgotten here in the middle of a chilly night remained a painful mystery to Aslam during the entire trip. She didn’t look like an accomplice to the robbery. He was burning with curiosity, but he didn’t dare question the passenger who was now sitting with her face against the window.
Afraid of getting stuck in the snow, Aslam did not drive up to the fence itself, but stopped nearby. There were no cars in the parking lot, except for an old hearse with an advertising sign that read “Making monuments and monuments out of granite.” The passenger paid, and the driverheard the snow crunch under her feet. She glanced back at Aslam, feeling his eyes follow her. The gate was loosely closed and rattled with a chain wrapped around it. The woman was peering between the bars of the fence, peering into the snowy distance of the cemetery. The wind blew in gusts, swaying the dim lantern above the guardhouse, making the black shadows of the crosses flicker. A dog emerged from under the hearse, shaggy and thin, with floppy spaniel ears. The dog pursed its paw and whined piteously.
Aslam felt uneasy. He broke down and got out of the car. The dog sniffed cautiously at the woman’s coat, and the woman even reached out to caress her, but when Aslam came closer and coughed, the animal ducked under the fence with its tail between its legs.
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