Red Star

Chapter 10

It was about four o'clock in the evening, and I got into an empty taxi in the Parking lot to get back before my mother arrived. The surprised driver turned to me and asked:

"Do you have any money, boy?"

I silently took out a greenish treshka from my pocket.

"Well, where do you want to go?"

"To the Harbor, please." To the far pier.

The driver winced, but started the car, turned on the meter, and drove off. I understood it, "Harbor" is a remote area and the probability that there, at this time, you will find a passenger is minimal. It was empty even then, but he still wasn't happy about the empty run back.

When we arrived at the pier, the meter was 2 rubles and 46 kopecks. I gave the driver a three-piece and, having already opened the door, and thereby showing that I do not expect change, said:

"I'll be here for half an hour, if you'll wait for me, then I'll go back."

The driver thought for a couple of seconds and muttered:

- If only half an hour, and for a simple ruble.

- Well.

What an asshole! - I thought - I left the change for myself, turned off the meter, put the ruble in my pocket, I got rid of the empty bag, we will arrive, too, will not give the change and still sits grimacing dissatisfied!

However, I well remembered that at this time it was very difficult to find a free taxi, and the taxi driver's profession was considered very profitable, although not prestigious - such are the "grimaces of socialism"!

Mitrich was there, and he was very glad to see me. I brought two bars of Borodino chocolate to tea and my grandfather was completely subdued. Over tea, it turned out that you can start building even now, although, of course, only a fool will do so, "because the earth is frozen, it's not necessary to understand"! But I was not interested in the construction site, and I unobtrusively turned the conversation to the purchase.

- Yes, three are selling now! One of them sank the boat, the other sold the boat and moved far away from here, to the other end of the city. And the third one just stopped sailing by age, it became hard, and the heirs of his entim business are not fond of! "but Stepan Kuzmich's will be dear to your relatives." Kuzmich is a solid man, was built reliably and expensively, and has long been built, so his hangar is located here very close to the pier, which is also more expensive, because it is more convenient. Yes, and he only sells with the boat, one by one will not sell, do not even ask. And you will have your own boat - a small one, why do you need a big hangar? And Kuzmich's boat is too big for you, you can't manage it, you can't go on it without adults, you won't be strong enough to handle it.

While Mitrich was engaged in a lengthy discussion, I considered what to do next. I will buy, most likely, the hangar unknown to me Stepan Kuzmich. It is located next to the caretaker's trailer, look again, what-no. The structure, apparently, is capital, again a plus. You never know. I won't go sailing on a boat, of course, but maybe I'll buy a boat sometime. Over time... That's not the problem. The problem is who to bring to Kuzmich for negotiations, and who will give Kuzmich money, so that I do not have someone 'burned' before this, with the presence of such "money".

After tea, Mitrich and I went to see Kuzmich's hangar. Mitrich simply didn't have the keys to the others.

"They don't trust me," Mitrich spat, " they're probably afraid I'll steal their leaky bucket!" Stepan Kuzmich is a reasonable man, though strict. Previously, he worked as a chief of the marine shipping company, but now he is retired. Gets sick often. the watchman sighed ruefully.

We came to the hangar we were looking for. Yes! "Spravno" Stepan Kuzmich built "spravno the hangar"! The first floor of the hangar was brick 15 meters by 10, the second superstructure was wooden 10 meters by 5 and the outside was neatly painted with light brown paint. The hangar was all very neat. A wicket was set into the iron gate, and the gate itself swung open without a creak - the hinges were well oiled. Inside the hangar there was a sheathed boat and there was a small stove - I heat it in the spring and autumn to drive away the dampness - Mitrich explained, seeing my surprise at the stove.

We went up to the second floor, where there was one, but very large room with Windows in two walls. One window looked out on the frozen Gulf of Finland, and the other on the complex of buildings of the Shipping company. There was very little furniture, just a couch, a table with four chairs, and a small wardrobe.

- Better only at Arkady Veniaminovich's, - said Mitrich proudly, - well, who has a boat, I told you three last time, there by the way is his property, next to it.

I looked out the window, and there was almost a full-fledged house nearby! Both floors were brick, and the only difference from a real house was that there was a gate in the wall of the first floor.

When I finished my inspection of the hangar, I assured Mitrich that my relatives would definitely not pay money for the wreck, and if they bought it, it would only be something that was built by such a correct and diligent owner as Stepan Kuzmich. As for the boat, it should be taken "for growth", and that no one was going to let me go on a solo voyage.

In response, I received an assurance that Mitrich would contact Stepan Kuzmich and find out the exact price. I also wrote down the phone number of Mitrich, who did not ask him the first time, in front of the guys.

With that, we said goodbye to romkin's grandfather, and I went home. The taxi driver met me with a dissatisfied face and informed me that I had been absent for almost an hour. I shrugged indifferently and said that he could leave in half an hour if he was in a hurry, and I would pay for the simple one. The taxi driver shut up and drove me back in silence. Just as silently, when we arrived, he took the "five" from me and accelerated at such a speed that I barely had time to slam the door of the "Volga". Yeah, you need your own car and your own driver! Ha-ha!..

I got out of the taxi 200 meters from the house, so as not to accidentally "get burned", because "our people do not go to the bakery by taxi". As I walked, I thought...

In a little over a month, after the day "when the trees got big again", I quite simply joined this life. Studying is no longer a problem for me, except for the fact that school takes up half the time - I could not restrain myself and grimaced in annoyance.

With my mother, the relationship looks great, she is just happy that I "came to my senses": there are no problems with grades and behavior at school, I do exercises, I have established relations with my classmates(ha!), I wash dishes, take out a bucket of garbage without urging, the room is in order - it's like I don't overdo it. But, internally, I was constantly tense with her, such topics as my "second childhood" and my, already here, hidden life are not subject to discussion. I'm not ready, I don't know how, I'm not sure what to do. The situation is the same with my grandfather. At least not yet...

On the other hand, I am already one of the wealthiest people in the USSR, but no one knows this, and it is of no use at all. Age and money legalization or their real earnings, these are the tasks that need to be solved very urgently. You need to become famous and rich, and also, you need to become RESPECTED and get access to the "very top".

Easy to say how to do? I can't buy a boat shed on my own! "I threw a snowball at a tree in frustration, missed, and got even more angry - and why the hell am I still in this Boxing match? Little problems, a lot of free time?! No, I need sports and it is better if it is useful in life even more practically. But what's the use of competition?!

Actually, there was another problem. You could say "delicate", but I'm still from my time and I'm talking to myself. In short, still, however, no, even more, I wanted to f**k. Spring is coming more and more, the body is in the "Hyper" stage and Boxing does not help much. Something must be done. Girls, "give" someone a snotty millionaire!!!

I didn't even try to resume communication with my charming neighbor Irina. On the stairs, he chatted with her "on the machine", but he is not yet able to realize his intentions. Sadly...

***

The next two weeks were fairly monotonous. I had never participated in any competitions before, I was pretty worried and approached this issue responsibly.

After school, I came to the section every other day and trained for an hour on my own with a rope and a "pear". Then, at the request of the usually absent Retluev, someone from the "adult group" got into the ring with me and we spent three rounds of one minute, this was supposed to be the format of the competition.

Almost all the time I "boxed" with Lech, a tall blond bugger 25 years old, weighing over a hundred kilograms. Lech worked as an Ambulance driver and was busy for a day or three, so he was in the hall most often. He was the "referee" who conducted our fight with Zhenya Kharitonov.

Lech, in the life of Alexey korostylev, served an urgent service in the marine corps, and when he returned to civilian life, got into some kind of fight, got a suspended sentence and a lot of trouble. And now, in my life, I turned the steering wheel and beat the "pear" in the hall. Well, at least that's what I learned about him from the hall cleaner Stepanida Mironovna.

Talkative grandmother Stepanida lived with Lech in the same communal apartment, in the same house where the gym was located. Lech's boyfriend was laconic, but pleasant. Looking at him, you can't even tell right away that he's a boxer. Yes, hefty, Yes, an athlete, but the face is "disfigured" by intelligence and even the nose, like, is not broken.

Noticing that I was nervous about the upcoming competition, he tried to calm me down.

- You understand, - he explained to me, after training - everyone is worried, this is not the main thing. Most often, the one who wants to win the most wins. With "brown" and the opponent will break, he will understand that you are stronger, since you climb so much and will be afraid. And if you were afraid, you lost. This doesn't always happen, but it happens most often.

Lech thoughtfully rubbed his chin with his fist and added:

- I don't know, but Ilyas is sure that you will take everyone out of the ring. Still, there are beginners, and you move and hit, somehow in an adult way, though incorrectly. But Reliev forbade you to retrain, says still not make it, and it is not necessary. And he's a smart guy, even if he's a COP. - added Lech and caught himself. I pretended not to hear...

Two days after our second meeting, I called Mitrich on the phone and found out that the greedy Semyon Kuzmich wanted two and a half thousand rubles for a boat with a hangar. This is despite the fact that a one-room cooperative apartment cost about four thousand! And this hangar is also self-built.

I took the time to bring the information "to the parents". And I started thinking about how to do it.

***

I didn't go to school on Tuesday, April 18. However, I did not skip school, but went to the competition. Retluev promised that they would give me a certificate at the competition, according to which there would be no questions for me at school.

The first qualifying stage was held in our Vasileostrovsky district in the 33rd SDYUSHOR (sports children's and youth school of the Olympic reserve).

Yes, Yes... they still have a few f*****g stages! I came to this 33rd school together with Lech. It was his day off and he offered to come with me. To say that I was grateful to him is to say nothing.

Lech managed to surprise me. When I got to the gym, he was already waiting for me... on the medical "Rafiq".

"No need to load your legs before a fight," he muttered, visibly flattered by my reaction. We got there quickly, though without sirens. In fact, there is still no one to scare away sirens, traffic in Leningrad, personally, caused me at first a smile of emotion. If one car passes through the street in a minute, then the traffic on this street is considered busy.

As we drove, I asked:

"How did you get in the car?" You're off today, right?

- It is still under repair, given for today. "Gaytsy" Ambulances do not stop, only you sit in the cabin, from sin - Lech explained, turning the steering wheel. He drove, admittedly, famously.

"How long have you been driving?"

- With army, in school avtodelo was, so and in army drove. - Lech grinned - what there only to drive not accounted for.

"You were a marine, weren't you?"

"Yes, senior Sergeant. I still had time for extra work, but I was stupid - Lech slowed down at the traffic light.

"Why stupid?"

- Yes... - such an exhaustive answer and a wave of the hand, showed me that it is better not to raise this topic.

- A, Boxing, Lech, have you been doing for a long time?

- Yes, since school, we also had a section in Kuibyshev.

- So you are not a local, but what are the fates here?

- My aunt is here, called - came. She died last year, only a year and a half older than her grandfather. I buried her, and now I live in her room."

That's what we came for...

The school was Packed with kids. Some of them were talking loudly and laughing through the phrase, others were running around in groups, under the guidance of adults, and others were huddled in a corner and from there they looked at everyone warily. There was fuss, confusion, and nervousness. It didn't take much observation to realize that everyone was desperately worried, and many were openly cowardly.

This sight instantly changed everything in me. It made me laugh. It's funny that I'm an adult, worried like... them! That I, in General, attach at least some significance to what is happening. That I've been scolding myself for getting involved in this since this morning. My God, what's wrong with that?! And I would be sitting now in this damn school, where the only entertainment is to see through the attempts to build me the machinations of a malicious "Russian girl" and in time to get away from the obsessive courtship of fat Nadya Rukina! Is it better? And so I went for a ride with Lech, now I'll jump in the ring, then I'll take a walk. The streams on the street are already flowing with might and main, the sun is shining!

When Releev we found it very suspicious began to look at my serene appearance and mocking smile. Leh is also clearly noticed the difference and began to exchange glances with Relieve.

However, there was no extra time for "staring". I was immediately taken into circulation: registration, issuing a number, weighing, selecting a brand-new form. Then we were all given lockers in the locker room and told that we could warm up in the next room.

I changed my clothes, pulled on my sneakers, and stomped into the gym. There Retluev and Lech wanted to load me with a warm-up, as well as other coaches of their wards. But with absolute serenity, I categorically refused to bother and asked Retluev how many fights I was going to have today.

Ilyas grinned and told me that I was going to have three fights, one fight a day and a rest day between fights. Then, based on the results of the matches, among the participants of my age and weight, they will choose the one who will represent our district at city competitions.

Then Releev tried again to get his hurdy-gurdy about the fact that there are rivals I don't. But, first of all, I have already seen it myself, and secondly, I was no longer interested in it. To change the subject, I suggested telling a joke about boxers. Both of my future seconds stared at me with interest.

- Honey, why did you sign up for Boxing? "You'll find out later, hubby!

They both laughed politely. I continued:

One nurse asks another, pointing at the bandaged patient:

"Is this the boxer who was hit by the motorcyclist?"

"No," she says, " that's the motorcyclist who hit the boxer!"

There is already both laughing sincerely! I made it worse:

The message in the newspaper: "Yesterday there was a robbery of the famous boxer champion of the USSR Ilyas Relieve. All the things taken from the boxer, the robbers took with them... I paused, " to the grave!"

The laughter of both grown men drowned out the noise in the hall! Everyone turned to look at us.