childhood, on earth, my university

Chapter 10: In the world (3)
She looked back to see if anyone was coming, then hugged me and said kindly:
"If you weren't here, I wouldn't have come. Why are you looking for them? Your grandfather is sick, and I have to take care of him. I can't go out to work, and the family has no money. And Sasha was kicked out by Uncle Mihailo I can’t leave him alone. I promise to give you six rubles a year, and you’ve been here for half a year, so you should give me at least one ruble.” She leaned into my ear and said, “My dear baby, you can bear it here Two years. Everything will be fine! Bear with it,

I agreed, but it's really not easy to do it.This boring life like a beggar makes me very depressed, like in a nightmare.

They don't let me go out and hang out, and I don't have time to go out.But church is a must.We have to go to all-night mass on Saturdays, and we also have evening prayers on holidays.I like to go to church, where I can rest as much as in the wilderness of the woods.However, I never say prayers in church.Because in the presence of my grandmother's God, I am ashamed to learn my grandfather's angry prayers and hymns with crying.I believe my grandmother's god didn't like them any more than I liked them myself.So, in church, when I have little grievances and sorrows in my heart, I make up my own prayers.

What I like best, though, is running from street to street, or in out-of-the-way corners, in the stillness of the night.Sometimes when I was running, I felt as if wings had grown from my back and I was flying.The street was deserted and deserted, only the watchman was walking in the middle of the street, holding a shifter in his hand and wearing a thick and long overcoat, with a dog beside him, trembling all over.

Walking in the quiet streets on such a starry winter night opened my eyes.I like to hang out in places far from the city center, because there are too many street lights in the city center, and I am worried that I will run into the acquaintances of the owner, and the owner will find out that I did not go to the evening mass.But I still often wandered in the street so fascinated that I forgot the time to go home, which aroused suspicion and questioning from the owner.

I also often go out for a walk during church during the day.Especially in the spring, an irresistible force prevented me from going to church, and I used to take advantage of the church time to play goats, balls, and sticks with those around me.Once I even bought goats with the money they gave me for candles and wafers, and lost everything.I hurried back and prepared to be interrogated and scolded, but the old lady didn't ask any more questions.

Spring is here, and the grass and birches give off an intoxicating fragrance.I long to be out in the open, to lie on my back in the warmth of the earth and hear the larks sing.But I have to stay here to wash winter clothes, cut tobacco leaves, wipe furniture, and do boring chores.

In order to drive away the boredom in my heart, I often take scissors and colored paper to the attic to cut various lace patterns and paste them on the beams of the house.

When the old lady saw the paper flowers, tin foil and leaves I pasted on the beams, she said:
"You should dress up the kitchen like this..."

One day, the master ran up to the attic, took a closer look at my work, and sighed: "You are so interesting, so unpredictable..."

He gave me a five-copeck silver coin from the time of Nicholas I.

I made a little catch out of thin wire, hooked the silver coin, and hung it, like a medal, prominently among the colorful ornaments of the beam.

But after a day, the silver coin and the little handle disappeared.I thought it must have been stolen by that nasty old lady.

5
This spring, I finally escaped.One morning, when I went to buy bread for morning tea, the boss and his wife had a quarrel. The boss hit the wife on the head with a weight, and she fainted on the ground.Several people around took her to the hospital in a four-wheeled carriage.I followed the car and ran and ran, and without knowing it, I ran to the Volga River, still holding a twenty-kopeck piece in my hand.

The spring is warm, the Volga River is rippling, and the river is boundless and full of vitality.I used to live like a little mouse in a cellar.I made up my mind to make a clean break with the master's family, and I didn't go to my grandmother, because I didn't keep my promise and I was embarrassed to see her.And my grandfather would take pleasure in my misfortune.

I wandered for two or three days by the Volga, eating and sleeping on the docks with the good stevedores.Later, a stevedore told me that a dish-washer was needed on board the Goodness.

I went, but the job requires ID.I had no choice but to go to my grandmother, and she persuaded my grandfather to go to the Handicraft Bureau to get an ID card for me.Then she led me to the boat herself.The cafeteria owner took me to meet the chef.The chef is round, dressed in white, wearing a white hat, with a cigarette in his mouth, looking very sloppy.

"I'm hungry." I told him.

Blinking his eyes, a grin suddenly spread across his fierce face, he pushed a baguette and a large piece of sausage in front of me:
"Eat! Are parents here? Can you steal? Oh, don't worry, everyone here is a thief, and I will teach you!"

The people on this boat, regardless of men, women or children, give me the same feeling.They ate and drank all day long, and many cups, plates, knives and forks, and spoons were dirty.My job is to wash the dishes and clean the knives and forks.From six o'clock in the morning, almost until late at night.All the workers in the restaurant are my bosses: chef Smoore, assistant Yakov?Ivanitch, Maxim the dishwasher, Sergey the waiter.I don't like these people.

Chef Smoore likes to have me read to him.He often called me into his office and told me to read while he lay in a hammock next to the cold room.Sometimes, I thought he was falling asleep, so I stopped to read.

There are many books in his black iron box, including "Instructor Omar", "Notes of Artillery", "Collected Letters of Lord Shedanjali", "The Harm of Bedbugs and the Methods of Exterminating and Controlling them", and some of them are headless. end of book.Sometimes, he asked me to sort out the books and read the name of each book.As soon as I read it, he shouted and cursed:
"Fabulously fabricated, these dog things are inexplicable!"

However, he often taught me:

"Read the book! Read it seven times if you don't understand it, and twelve times if you don't understand it seven times. If you want to be smart, you have to read more serious books. But you can only find serious books after reading all kinds of books."

He also liked to tell me long stories about his life in the army, but I couldn't understand these stories and found them boring.In fact, I don't want to hear anything, and I don't want to work. I just want to hide in a remote place, sit there and watch this tired life go by.

Later, the captain's wife lent him a copy of Gogol's "The Terrible Revenge" for him to read.I am very interested in this book.I read it to him, but he cried out angrily:

"Fabulously fabricated, a bunch of nonsense..."

He snatched the book out of my hand, ran to the captain's wife to get another, and ordered me not very cheerfully:

"You read "Taras"..."

When I read that Taras challenged Ostap, he laughed:
"That's right! That's it! You have knowledge, I have strength! You can write! These camels..."

He listened intently, but always expressed dissatisfaction, but when Taras killed his son, he bent over and cried:

"Oh my God... my God..."

He took the book out of my hand and flipped through it carefully, tears dripping on the cover.

Next, I read "Ivanhoe".He liked it, but I didn't think the book was very good.In general, we both have very different reading interests.I like Tom?Jones," which he didn't like at all.

Before I knew it, I developed the habit of reading books.Smalley preferred to read, too.He used to pull me away while I was at work, and brutally let Maxim, the old dishwasher, do my work.Maxim was so angry that he deliberately broke the cup.Once, he deliberately put a few glasses into a basin filled with sewage.When I poured sewage overboard, the glasses were thrown with it.

The cafeteria owner kindly warned me:
"If this continues, I won't have you on board!"

"It's all my fault," Smoore said to the mess-keeper, "Charge it to my account." "

Sergey, the waiter in the restaurant, looked at me sideways and said:

"Hey, you book fan! Why do you get paid?"

They often dirty the utensils on purpose to make me work as much as possible.I understand that going on like this will be bad for me.And indeed it is.

One night, after work, I was lying on the table to sleep, and Sergei, who was drunk, came up and grabbed my hand:

"Let's go, let's find you a wife..."

Maxim also came running drunk.They dragged me to the door of their cabin.Unexpectedly, Smoore was standing there, and Yakov was standing in the cabin. He was holding the door frame with both hands, and a drunken girl was punching him on the back and shouting:

"Get out of the way..."

Smoore snatched me from Sergey and Maxim, then grabbed them by the hair, touched them head to head, and pushed them so hard that they fell to the ground.He cursed, pushed me away again, and said loudly:

I ran to the stern.It was a gloomy night, and the river was dark.After a while, Smalley came too.He sat beside me, sighed, and lit a cigarette: "Did they drag you to that woman? Damn it! I heard them come up with bad ideas there."

He threw the cigarette butt overboard, was silent for a moment, and said:

"You're going to kill yourself all the time among these pigs, and I pity you, puppy! I pity them too... a herd of camels..."

The ship hummed, and in the dark night, a light was shining, reminding people of the location of the pier, and then a string of lights flashed out of the darkness.

"Here comes the Drunken Woods," said Smalley. "I'm going ashore to see..."

Smalley went ashore.Sitting alone in the stern, I felt as though I had been on board so long that I seemed to know exactly what was going to happen tomorrow, what was going to happen a week from now, what was going to happen in the fall, and what was going to happen next year.

It was almost dawn.On the sandy shore above the pier, a dense pine forest began to appear.I really wanted to cry, but I was too embarrassed to cry.So I helped the sailor Blyahin to clean the deck.

The ship sailed slowly away from the pier.Briahin made the sign of the cross and said:
"The boat is sailing again..."

6
Maxim disembarked at Sarapur, and when he left he did not say a word, did not greet anyone, and appeared very calm.He was fired.Sergey knelt at the door of the captain's cabin, kissed the floor, and then slammed his forehead on the door, calling out loudly:
"Forgive me, this has nothing to do with me, it's Maxim..."

The captain kicked him, but finally spared him.He immediately ran back and forth on the deck, serving tea and water to the passengers, and looking people in the eyes flatteringly like a dog.

They hired a soldier from the province of Viat from the shore to replace Maxim.This little soldier has a thin body, a small head, and a pair of brown eyes.Yakov arranged for him to kill the chickens, he killed two, and the rest ran to the deck.Passengers started catching chickens and three of them flew overboard.The soldier sat on the woodpile by the kitchen and burst into tears.

His crying caused trouble.Half an hour later, the people on the ship were laughing at him, some poked him with their fingers, some pulled his shirt, pulled his apron, and completely teased him like a goat, and it didn't end until lunch time. farce.After lunch, someone put a squeezed lemon on the handle of a wooden spoon and tied it to the string of his apron behind his back.As he walked, the wooden spoon swayed from side to side behind his back, causing people to burst into laughter.But he didn't yet know why people laughed.

Smoore said nothing, but looked at him gravely.

I felt sorry for the little soldier, so I asked Smoore:
"May I tell him about the wooden spoon?"

He nodded silently.

I told the soldier.He quickly touched the wooden spoon, took it off, threw it on the ground, and crushed it with his feet.Then he actually grabbed my hair and wrestled with me.Everyone surrounded us all at once, watching with satisfaction.

Smalley pushed through the crowd of onlookers and pulled us apart.When everyone saw the little soldier shaking his head and jumping around under the chef's hands, he shouted, stamped his feet, whistled frantically, and leaned forward and backward with laughter.I really want to jump on them and hit them on the head with a firewood.

Smoore let go of the soldier, and he sprang at me at once.But Smoore grabbed him again with only one hand, dragged him to the water pump, and pumped water over his head.

The sailor, bosun, and first mate all ran over, surrounded by a large group of people.

"Anyway the little soldier still screamed, "I'm going to beat that kid to death!" "

Smoore said something to the mate, and the sailors drove away the crowd of onlookers. When the crowd dispersed, Smoore asked the soldier:

"What should I do with you?"

Xiaobing didn't answer, but looked at me viciously, trembling for no reason.

Smoore spat, dragged me away.After a while Sergey caught up with us and said quietly:
"He wants to kill himself!"

"Where is it?" Smoore yelled, running over.

The little soldier was standing at the door of the cabin of the tea room, holding a big knife in both hands.The knife was as blunt as a saw and had many nicks.There was already a large group of people standing beside him.I jumped on something, stood on it, passed over the heads of everyone, and saw some people were smiling, some were laughing, and some were talking to each other:
"Look, look..."

No one believed that Xiaobing would commit suicide, not even me.Smoore glanced at the little soldier, pushed the others away with his belly outstretched, and shouted:

"Go away, idiot!"

After dispersing the crowd of onlookers, he walked up to the soldier and stretched out a hand:

"Give me the knife."

"Give it!" said the little soldier, handing out the blade. Smoore handed the knife to me, and pushed the little soldier into the tea room cabin. Then, we went to the kitchen to get food for the little soldier. Smoore Chattering on the road:

"Well, you see? They're soft. They'd drive a man crazy. They're like bedbugs, they bite you and you're finished! They're worse than bedbugs!"

I sent the bread, beef, and vodka to the waiter's cabin, where the soldier was whimpering in his hammock.I put the plate on the table and said to him:
"Eat."

"Close the door."

"Close the door, and the light in the room will be dark."

"Close it, or they'll break in again."

I closed the door and left.I have no affection for him, he does not arouse my sympathy and pity.

I went back to the kitchen, and Smoore drew me closer, and said gravely:

"This is not where you stay! You can't hang around like this..."

The series of things that happened just now really made me feel very uncomfortable.I don't think I deserved to be treated like this, and neither should that soldier unless he's willing to be the butt of teasing himself.Now those onlookers were drinking, eating, playing cards, enjoying the river view, and chatting leisurely, as if what happened an hour ago had nothing to do with them.But when the captain and sailors scolded them, they seemed so docile and timid.

One day after midnight, something in the ship's machinery exploded like a cannon.The deck was suddenly shrouded in white mist, which came out of the power cabin and permeated every corner of the ship.

I'm sleeping on the scullery counter next to the power cabin.When I was awakened by the explosion, there was still silence on the deck, but one minute later, all the passengers on the ship started shouting, and the ship was suddenly filled with a terrifying atmosphere.

The chaotic crowd ran around, some jumped over the rails, and some threw a large chicken coop into the water from the stern.There is also a man kneeling in the middle of the deck, kowtowing and howling like a wolf:
"Orthodox Christians, I am guilty..."

"Launch the lifeboat, you devils!" shouted a fat gentleman in only a pair of trousers, beating his chest and feet.

A group of sailors came running, grabbed the men by the collars, beat them on the heads, and threw them on the deck.Smoore walked up and down with heavy steps, admonishing everyone in a sonorous voice:

"Not at all ashamed! What's the matter with you, mad? Isn't the boat all right! Look, that's the shore!"

I've had two flusters on board this summer.Both times were not triggered by immediate danger, but by people's fear.Another time, the passengers caught two thieves, and they beat them for nearly an hour without telling the sailors, and they were beaten unconscious.

This kind of thing is commonplace, and it disturbs me. I don't know what kind of people they are?

I also feel that this is not my place.I used to think that as soon as the boat touched the shore I would run away and hide in the woods.But when I think of Smoore, I can't bear to leave.He was becoming more and more friendly to me, and the fact that the boat kept moving forward and I could see new banks, new cities, and new people fascinated me.

My life on board, however, came to an unexpected and ignominious end.It comes down to Sergey.He took the tea set on my table several times and gave it to the passengers privately.I know this behavior is stealing.Smalley also reminds me from time to time:

"Be careful, don't let the waiter take the tea set from your table."

One evening, when the boat was sailing from Kazan to Nijni, the canteen owner asked me to go.As soon as I entered his cabin, he closed the door.Smoore was seated in a chair, and as soon as he saw me he asked roughly:
"Did you bring the cutlery to Sergey?"

"He took it himself when I wasn't paying attention."

"He didn't see it, but he knew it," said the cafeteria owner in a low voice.

Smoore was silent for a while, and asked me:
"Has Sergey ever given you money?"

"No."

"Was it never given?"

"Never."

"He won't lie," said Smalley to the mess-keeper, who replied in a low voice:
"Anyway, that's about it, that's it!"

"Let's go!" Smoore called me, and flicked the top of my head with his hand. "Fool! But I am also a fool! I wish I could pay more attention to you." When the ship arrived in Nigeria, The cafeteria owner settled my bill and I was fired.I received about eight rubles, the first substantial money I had earned.

When Smoore said goodbye to me, he said sadly:
"Hey, look at what's going on here, you have to be more careful in the future, understand?"

As he spoke, he stuffed a colorful bead cigarette purse into my hand:
"Take it! This workmanship is good, it was given by my goddaughter, forget it, goodbye, study more, this is the best thing!"

He lifted me up and kissed me.I felt sad and almost burst into tears watching this tall, heavy-footed man walking slowly back to the ship...

7
My grandfather and grandmother moved to the city again.I went back to them, angry and sad.

(End of this chapter)