childhood, on earth, my university

Chapter 5 Childhood (4)
Uncle Peter is very kind to me, and he talks more kindly to me than to grown-ups.But there's something about him that I don't like.When my grandfather whipped me, Uncle Peter comforted me by saying that this kind of whipping is a compulsory lesson for children.Then he said that before the abolition of serfdom, his mistress specially hired a thug to beat the serfs, and even the landowners of the neighboring manors often borrowed the thug from his mistress.He also talked in detail about the thug beating the serfs and the thug cruelty to animals.I didn't like to hear the torturing, the teasing, the oppressing stuff, so I begged him to say something else.He told a story that he thought was funny: A cook spoiled a large pie, and the master forced him to eat the whole pie in one bite, and then the cook fell ill.

I said angrily: "This is not funny at all!"

From then on, I lost interest in talking to him and started avoiding him.

To the left of the garden of my grandfather's house is Colonel Ovsiannikov's yard.There were three boys playing in the yard from noon to night almost every day. They wore the same gray jacket and trousers, and the same hat. They had round faces and gray eyes. They were so similar that I could tell them apart only by their size.

I peeped at them through the cracks in the fence, they couldn't see me, but I hoped they would find me and invite me to play with them.

Once I sat on the tree by the courtyard wall and watched them play hide-and-seek, and it was the turn of the boy in the middle to look for someone.The oldest boy quickly climbed into a large set of sledges under the overhang of the warehouse.The youngest boy was running around the well, not knowing where to hide.Later, he jumped onto the well curb, grabbed the well rope, and put his foot into the empty bucket, which fell down with a "boom" and disappeared.I was petrified, but suddenly I realized what was going to happen, so I jumped into their yard and yelled:

"He fell into the well..."

The boy looking for someone and I ran to the edge of the well at the same time. He grabbed the rope and kept pulling it out, and I also grabbed the well rope.At this time, the oldest boy also came running, and while pulling the bucket with me, he said:

"Please pull gently!"

We pulled the youngest boy up in no time.He was terrified, his face was pale and blue, and he was shivering, but he still smiled and said in a drawn-out tone:

"I - how did I fall - went down..."

The oldest boy held out his hand to me and said:

"You came just in time!"

His compliment made me very happy.Before I could take his hand, he said to the middle boy again:
"Let's go, he's going to catch a cold! Let's just say he fell, don't say he fell into the well."

"Yes, don't tell me," said the youngest boy tremblingly, "I fell into the puddle, didn't I?"

With that said, they left.

They didn't come out to play in the yard for about a week after that.Later, when they were out to play, the oldest boy saw me sitting on the tree and called me kindly: 'Come to us!'

We climbed into the old sled under the eaves of the warehouse and talked for a long time.I know they will be beaten too, and their real mother is gone.I know what kind of person my stepmother is from my grandmother's fairy tales.I told them stories my grandmother told.

It was late, and fiery clouds hung over the roofs.An old man with a white beard appeared beside us in a long brown suit and a furry hat.

"Who is this?" He asked, pointing at me.

The oldest boy stood up, shook his head towards his grandfather's house, and said, "That's where he came from..."

"Who told him to come..."

Without saying a word, the three boys got out of the sleigh at once and went to the house.The old man held me tightly by the shoulders, carried me into the street, and said viciously:
"You are not allowed to come to me again!"

"I didn't come to look for you at all, old ghost!"

He grabbed me again and led me back to my grandfather's yard.Unfortunately for me, my grandfather happened to be at home.Naturally, my grandfather had to beat me up.

Uncle Peter found out, told me that the three boys were young masters, and urged me to beat them.I didn't want to listen to him anymore, so I yelled "fool" at him and walked away.Since that day, there have been some silent contests between us.

However, my association with the three boys brightened my mood more and more.In a remote corner between my grandfather's house and Colonel Osyannikov's courtyard wall stood a dense elder bush.I cut a small round hole in the wall below this bush.The three brothers came to this cave in turn, and we squatted or knelt and talked in low voices.Another boy kept watch in case the colonel saw us suddenly.

They talked about their lonely life. After listening to them, I felt very sad.But they never talked about their stepmother and father.They also often asked me to tell some fairy tales, and I carefully repeated the stories my grandmother told.If part of it is forgotten, I tell them to wait a while, and then immediately run to ask my grandmother.I also told them a lot about my grandmother.Once the oldest boy sighed deeply and said:

"Maybe all grandmothers are nice people, and we once had a nice grandmother..."

When we were talking, Uncle Peter's drawling voice often sounded behind us:

"Are you together again?"

Then, he grabbed me and went to report to my grandfather.

Although I didn't like or even loathe Uncle Peter, his death still shocked me a lot.His dumb nephew went to the country to get married.He lives alone in a small low house.One morning, my grandfather and I were clearing the snow in the yard when the police came.They were talking quietly about something.After the police had left, grandfather and grandmother entered the room and talked there for a long time in low tones.I guess something terrible happened.Towards evening, another policeman came.While he was talking to his grandmother, Petrovna, the milk seller next door, shouted at the door:
"Look, what's in your backyard?"

Everyone pushed and shoved out of the kitchen and ran to the back garden.There was a pit in the garden with a soft layer of snow in it, and Uncle Peter was lying in this pit.He committed suicide.

The police said that Uncle Peter was the criminal who robbed the church. His dumb nephew was not dumb at all, and he had already confessed.They were all accomplices in this case, and they had robbed churches long ago.

"Oh, my God!" sighed Petrovna, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

10
One Saturday early in the morning I went to catch bullfinch in Petrovna's garden.After catching for a long time, these birds just don't surf the Internet.I am not upset, the process of catching birds makes me more happy than the result. I like to watch the lives of the little birds and dream about them.

.

After sitting on the snow for a long time, I shivered from the cold, so I quickly packed up the nets and birdcages, climbed over the fence and climbed into my grandfather's garden.As I walked into the empty kitchen, I heard my mother's powerful voice from the next room.Without taking off my coat, I dropped the cage and jumped into the door opening.My hands were cold and excited, and after touching it for a long time, I couldn't find the handle of the door.Finally, I gently pushed the door open and stood on the threshold.

"It's him." Mother said, "My God, he has grown up so much! What, you don't recognize me? Look at what you dressed him for, oh..."

She stood in the middle of the room, took off my clothes, and turned me around like a ball.She was wearing a wide, warm, soft red dress.I thought her face was smaller and whiter than before, her eyes were large and sunken, and her hair was blonde.She curled her lips in disgust and said:
"Why don't you talk? Are you happy? Pooh, what a dirty shirt..."

Then she washed my ears with goose fat, which hurt a lot, but a fresh, nice smell emanated from her, which relieved my pain.I snuggled up to her, looked into her eyes, too excited to speak.She kept talking.Between her words, the grandmother said unhappily:
"He's become a wild horse, he doesn't listen to anyone, not even his grandfather... Oh, Valya, Valya..."

"Well, don't complain, Mom, it'll be all right!" said the mother.

Grandfather came in.Grandpa and grandmother let me out.Reluctantly, I went to the kitchen and kept my ears open for the next room.They quarreled for a while, and fell silent for a while.I heard them talking about the baby born to the mother, who was given away by the mother.I don't understand why my grandfather was angry: Is it because the mother gave birth to the child without asking for instructions?Or was it because he didn't bring the child back to him?Anyway, because of this incident, the relationship between my grandfather and mother has always been tense.I felt that my mother would not live in this house, that she would leave sooner or later.

Soon, my mother began to teach me to study with enthusiasm, to learn non-religious scripts.Not long after, my mother asked me to recite poetry again, and the mutual hurt between us began from here.

I hate these ungraspable lines.When I say it silently in my heart, I can't go wrong at all.But as long as it is read aloud, it must be out of shape.Whenever I get angry, I mispronounce it on purpose.

Then, my mother asked me to recite more poems, and my memory became more and more difficult to accept these neat poems, and a desire to change these poems and replace them with other words grew stronger.

Later, I had a lot of trouble with an unfortunate poem, which seems to have been written by Prince Vyazemsky. It consisted of four lines, of which I only recited the first, second, and fourth lines. Leave out the third line.My mother angrily told my grandfather about my behavior.

Grandfather said viciously:

"He's a ghost! He's got a good memory. He can remember prayers better than I can, and he did it on purpose. You'll beat him!"

Grandmother also said:
"You also remember those fairy tales very clearly, and you also remember the songs very well. Isn't that the same as poetry?"

My mother taught me more and more homework, varied and difficult to understand.I learned arithmetic quickly, but I didn't like to write, and the rigid grammar made me feel uncomfortable.However, what hurt me the most was seeing and feeling how depressed my mother was at my grandfather's house.She began to become scruffy, leaving her hair uncombed all day and wearing rumpled skirts.It spoiled her image and made me sad because she was always beautiful, tough, clean-dressed and one of a kind.She also tended to frown more and more, look at everyone with a stranger's eyes, or sit silently for a long time by the window facing the garden.I don't feel like I'm having a good time, I'm disappointed in everything, but for some reason I want to hide it, so I run away, I play pranks.

My grandfather and grandmother often quarreled about my mother.Once my grandfather even beat my grandmother severely because of this, but my grandmother still endured silently as usual.I decided to take revenge on my grandfather.

Two days later, I went to the top floor to find my grandfather, and saw him sitting on the floor sorting out the documents in the box, and on the chair was his very cherished icon calendar—twelve gray thick papers.When he wasn't looking, I grabbed a few pieces of icon paper and ran downstairs. Then I took the scissors out of my grandmother's drawer, climbed into the hammock, and started cutting the icon's head.After I beheaded a row of saints, I regretted the vandalized iconography.Before I had time to cut the second line, my grandfather came.He stood on the steps of the stove and asked:
"Who gave you permission to take these icons?"

When he saw that the icon picture was cut into small pieces and scattered on the bed, he went crazy.

"Good job you did!" he yelled, grabbing my foot.When my grandmother came, my grandfather beat her and me with his fists:
"I'm going to kill...you guys!"

When my mother came, she blocked me and pushed my grandfather's hand:
"Is this plausible? Calm down!"

Grandfather collapsed on the bench under the window with a thud, howling:

"Kill me! You, you are all against me, ah..."

"I'll stick these small squares on the fine gauze for you, and it will be better and stronger." The mother looked at the pieces of paper that had been shredded and hadn't had time to shred.

Grandfather suddenly stood up, coughed, and said:
"Then you post it for me today! I'll go and get you the remaining ones right away."

After he finished speaking, he walked towards the door of the room. Just as he reached the door, he turned around again, pointed at me and said:

"But he deserves a beating."

Because my mother was on good terms with the optimistic and cheerful female tenant who lived in the front room and went there almost every night, my grandfather was very upset and asked all the tenants to leave the house.Then he entertained his own guests in the house.

Every festival, here is full of guests.Among these guests was a one-eyed, bald watchmaker in a long black frock coat, as quiet as a monk.He always sat in the corner, tilting his head and smiling slightly.His face was fat and oily, with two thick lips and big ears that flared out.He seldom speaks, and he has a catchphrase: "Don't bother, anyway..."

There were two or three times this depressing and boring gathering.Later, on a Sunday day, the watchmaker came to my grandfather's house after midday prayer.I sat in my mother's room and worked with her.Grandmother pushed open the door suddenly and whispered:
"Varya—here he comes."

Then she disappeared.

Mother didn't move, but grandfather appeared at the door again, proudly saying:

"Varya, put on your clothes and go!"

Without standing up or looking at him, the mother asked:
"where to?"

"Go! He is very dutiful, he is an expert in his field, and he will also be Leksey's father."

His mother interrupted him quietly:
"I told you he wasn't worthy..."

"Go! Or I'll drag you away! Grab your braids..."

"You take it away?" The mother stood up, took off her coat, leaving only a shirt, and walked up to her grandfather, "You take it away!
"Put it on! Valya!" my grandfather threatened her with his fist.

"Okay, let's go!" Mother said and walked out.

Grandmother blocked her mother's way, drove her into the house, and shouted:
"Put your clothes on!"

Mother picked up the clothes from the ground and said:

"I'm not going to him, do you hear? I'm leaving tomorrow!"

Grandmother pushed me off the stool and said:

"Go get a spoonful of water!"

I scooped up a spoonful of water and went to the door opening, and saw the watchmaker come out from the front room, with his head down, touching his fur cap with his hands.Grandmother bowed behind his back and whispered:
"You know—a twisted melon is not sweet..."

At lunch, my grandfather, grandmother and mother ate and drank for a long time as they usually do on holidays. It made people feel that they hadn't been shouting, fighting, and crying half an hour ago. Pass.

Pain is a festival in these endless days.On a face that has nothing, even scars are a kind of decoration.

11
After this incident, my mother suddenly became strong and her waist straightened.Grandfather has become a small person, so deep that he is completely different from before.He hardly ever went out, and always sat alone on the top floor, reading a mysterious book "My Father's Diary", which he locked in a box.I saw more than once that my grandfather always washed his hands first every time he took out this book.

My mother now lived in the two rooms in the front house, where she had a constant stream of guests, the Maximov brothers most frequenting: Peter, a handsome handsome man, and an officer with a heavy light beard.The other, Yevgeny, wore a light green button-down uniform.

After Christmas, my mother took me and Uncle Mihailo's son Sasha to school.Uncle Mihailo got married again, and the stepmother didn't like Sasha when he came in, and beat him often.Because of grandmother's insistence, grandfather took Sasha over.We have a class for one month.Of the things I was taught in school, I only remember how to answer one question:
"What's your last name?"

This question cannot be answered simply: "Beshkov!" It should be answered, "My name is Beshkov." "

Soon I didn't like going to school.My cousin was still in high spirits in the first few days, but one time he fell asleep in class, and in his sleep he suddenly yelled out horribly:

"I do not know……"

He was woken up and taken out of the classroom, for which he was mercilessly mocked.He skipped school the next day.I envy him very much, but I don't want to make my mother sad.When he got back, we were all beaten up pretty badly.We hid in the hammock together, and he said he wanted to be a robber, and my goal was to be an officer with a big light beard.

When I woke up the next day, I found that I had red spots all over my body, which was smallpox.So I was locked up on the attic in the backyard.I lay there for a long time with my eyes blindfolded and my hands and feet bound tightly with wide bands.Only my grandmother often came, fed me with a spoon, and told me endless stories.For several nights she told me about my father, which, like all the other stories she told, was fascinating.

I learned that my father was the son of a soldier, born when my grandfather was exiled to Siberia.My grandfather died when my father was nine.A joiner adopted him. At the age of 20, his father became an excellent joiner.The workshop where he works is side by side with several houses of his grandfather.

Once, when my grandmother and mother were picking marling fruit in the garden, my father climbed over the courtyard wall and asked my grandmother to allow him to marry my mother.The grandmother liked her father very much, so she helped them contact the priest to officiate the wedding for them without telling the grandfather.For this reason, my grandmother was beaten and scolded by my grandfather.

(End of this chapter)