Red Star

Chapter 13

***

05.05.78, Friday (my 75th day in the USSR)

After school, I went to the cafeteria for lunch. 'Burial' decided to do in the area of the station 'Siverskaya'. Well, actually, the only place I knew more or less. I used to go there when I was a kid.

I had a leisurely lunch, time allowed, the train was still an hour away, and today I was just going to go and see. Here on the weekend, if my mother does not send to visit my grandfather, I will do business, and if she does, I will have to puff during the week.

You can do this... apparently, after all, the most realistic option is when you have to prepare for 'perestroika', and then either try to become the 'fat cat in the trash', or go to the West to insider on the stock exchange and in the most promising industries.

I left the school and walked slowly to the bus stop. I didn't pay attention to the car horn, because I was walking along the very edge of the path and couldn't interfere with anyone. But when the car drew level with me and drove slowly along, I couldn't help but turn my head to look at it.

Behind the wheel of a car that glittered with chrome and fresh light gray paint sat a smiling Lech...

***

..."Moskvich" made like candy, the engine is barely audible, the gears are switched almost imperceptibly, the cabin is relatively quiet. They also installed a radio receiver and an antenna. Painted, it seems, also on the conscience, and since, according to Lehi, he spent whole days in the SERVICE station, there is no doubt that the quality of all the work was repeatedly rechecked. The car went smoothly and confidently, and I sat in the front passenger seat and enjoyed the ride.

- Why don't you go to training? After a week of "city"... Have Relieve backed up at work, all the police maniac around town looking for, and then he remembers and asks about you!

"Yes, I don't feel like it anymore," I say listlessly, looking out the window at the flashing houses.

- You promised!

- So what? You promised to help me too, so what?

"Oh, come on! Well, let's go buy a suit, if that's what you want...

"I don't want anything anymore!" I won't be able to persuade you every time you need to do something. You understand everything, but you just don't want to use the money. I won't be able to over-direct your ego. You're an adult, I'm a kid. How can I compete with you? I wanted to find a friend who would help and we would work together! Pride is more important to you... Eh,- I turn away even more from Lehi, who is silently driving the car, and I can't think of anything smarter than... sob!!!

It worked! Haha. What a scoundrel I am! Lech begins to mumble something reassuring and reassuring in confusion, shove me in the side with his fist and assure me that he thought a lot and now understands that he was wrong.

I turn the conversation to "Moskvich" and Lech, relieved and with immoderate enthusiasm, begins to tell me about all the super-positive changes that have occurred with his "iron horse". We drive around the city for half an hour, and the list of car wonders performed by Lehi still does not end. What an auto-maniac! Poor guy, he should have seen what a real car is. However, he will see it again.

So, what did he say about a maniac?

- Yes, there is some kind of bastard, in broad daylight, in the city, Schoolgirls are r***d in different districts. They open the door, and he pounces, the NIT. I'd rip your head off! - there was no doubt that if the maniac were caught now in lekhina's severely clenched fists, the severed head would not be limited to the case.

- Mdya, how can a stranger open the door?

- So that's the thing, this creature is a captain of the criminal investigation Department and even shows a certificate. The entire militia is absolutely furious about this! There have already been eleven r***s.

- Why don't they write about it in the Newspapers or warn you on TV?

"How do you write it?" Only panic will rise. Again, the police discredit. The West will start gloating. Lech shook his head in frustration.

- That is, let no one know better, the maniac will continue to r**e, - I stated.

- Don't talk nonsense,- Lech frowned - there are not only crimes, but also politics. How could such a creature grow up in the Soviet state?!

I became interested in the degree of Lech's zombification and I decided to continue the topic slightly.

- Lesh, and what is more important, the fate of these eleven girls and the rest of whom he will r**e, or possible damage to the prestige of the state?

Lech gave me a sidelong glance and paused: - Well, it's not my decision, so it was decided at the top. They'll catch the reptile, I'll bet! They already have all the vigilantes, freelancers and informants involved. I Reliev said. I was not called to duty as part of the DND because of a criminal record,-my interlocutor frowned.

I have repeatedly felt that this episode of his life, Lech is very depressing.

We rode around the year for another two hours. What a long-forgotten pleasure, when you can freely drive through the streets, and not twitch in endless traffic jams. There was very little transport, the sun was very warm, the temperature was about +10*. We lowered the side Windows, and quite squinting, overtook the hulking carcasses of buses.

- Lech, and went to the restaurant?! I suggested, according to my mood.

"What restaurant?" "my 'big friend'almost let go of the steering wheel.

- I only know 'North', on Nevsky. What others are there?

- Why go to a restaurant,- Lech got nervous - let's go to an ice cream parlor, like last time, with Retluev.

- There is a hunt. Well, there's steak or caviar with balychok... - vindictively spiteful spiteful I - we'll drink coffee, maybe you'll meet some beauty.

Lech frowned: "Are you kidding me?"

Why? - I innocently clapped my eyes,- the main thing is that the person was good, but they can not let them in, so it's worse for them, they will not know that we were good. Besides, they won't know we had money. Besides, we'll be hungry. In addition, the beauty will meet someone else...

- Okay, I said that I understood everything and agreed - Lech grumbled under his breath.

"Well, Yes... It's only been a week since you agreed to the obvious! So life is big, what's the hurry?

- where are we going? What should I do? - Lech carefully examined the almost empty road.

- Let's stop at the Moscow railway station, it's nearby. I have business there for a few minutes. And then we will go to get a solid look.

At the station, I looked around, but trying not to draw attention to myself, moved the 'bookmark' from one cell to another and pulled out two packs of twenty-five rubles, stuffing them into the inner pockets of my jacket.

Lech was waiting for me in the Parking lot near the train station, now with his foot on the wheel, now walking around the glittering Moskvich, glancing sideways at it with satisfied glances. The car, indeed, looked nice and elegant.

After a short meeting, we decided to move to the "Gostiny Dvor", because there was always going to Leningrad farts.

- Only, Lyosha, we need to buy normal things from them, and not in the face for speculation to give,- I reminded.

Lech winced, showing that he was 'no worse than most'.

"With the money, you can have it." Put them in different pockets, five hundred rubles each, " I handed my partner a wad of banknotes, ripping off the savings Bank package in my pocket.

Lech stared at the two and a half thousand rubles and took them mechanically...

***

At "Gostiny Dvor" we walked for an hour, but anyone who would like black marketeers have not seen in sight. But there were quite a lot of policemen! Annoyed, I already began to look closely at the openly sold product.

When I looked with strong skepticism at the men's suits of the factory "Bolshevichka", I heard a slight cough and a polite voice said:

- Can I be useful to such a young buyer?

I turn around and see a short, elderly salesman with a pink bald spot in his gray hair and a Zionist sadness in his wet eyes.

"You can," I mutter, " if you change these costumes into something human."

- Does the young man want quality? "the salesman is perfectly polite.

- A young man wants a lot of things, including quality and quantity, and not only in costumes.

- Understand. Do you choose for yourself?

- No, for my brother,- I nod at Lech.

The salesman turns in the direction of my nod and buries his eyes in the chest, Lehi approached. Ridiculously raising his head strongly up, he also politely greets the "brother".

Then he turns to me:

- You have a beautiful brother and he's a rare size, I'm sorry.

"He's got a great brother," I grumble, not without sarcasm, in response - and I have a rare size, too, especially for the adult Department - finally, I leave the hopeless examination of costumes and turn completely to the salesman.

- Shpilman - he tilts his bald head - Solomon Shpilman, sales consultant.

He was even smaller than I was.

- Bond - I answer with a tilt of my head - James bond, an English spy, I want to steal a good suit in Russia.

The salesman pauses for a moment, then responds with a thin laugh.

- In this case, you were not mistaken when you came to St. Petersburg, young man, because only here they still Remember how to build good men's suits.

I look pointedly at the rows of consumer goods. Shpilman waves his hands:

- I don't mean this product. Real art from a real master is always piece-by-piece. But it was expensive - he was sad.

- My brother came from the North to rest in Leningrad. Well, to the theater there, with a girl in a restaurant... And here - I glance again at the rows of hanging suits - the choice is depressing.

The seller again raises his head at the deafly silent Lech, meets his frown and prefers to continue communicating with me:

- Can I suggest a good tailor to such wonderful young people?

- It would be better if you tell us, so wonderful, something with ready-made products. And then, you know, time is running out: the restaurant, the theater, the girls and the North will not wait! - I throw a test ball to Shpilman.

If the old salesman was surprised by my manner of communication, which was not typical for Soviet pioneers, he did not show it:

*** Half

an hour later, Lech and I drive up to the desired house on Bolshoy Prospekt Petrogradskaya side and, after ten minutes of wandering through the passageways-wells, we ring the desired door.

Shpilman's twin brother opens the door, only fifteen years older and almost completely bald.

Izya Borukhovich Shpilman turns out to be a tailor with almost fifty years of experience and, having seated us at an empty table in a poorly furnished living room, begins to find out what Lech and I need from the "poor Jew". Just kidding! He did not say so, of course, but his whole shabby and despondent appearance, complete with a large, drooping nose with blue veins, testified to the hard and poor fate of an old sick Jew in the land of the Soviets.

I explain to iza that we need good and fashionable clothes. Now. And that Shpilman from "Gostinki", said that Shpilman from "Bolshoy" we will find everything you need.

After chewing his lips disapprovingly, Shpilman from Bolshoy replied that he had known Shpilman from Gostinka for more than fifty years and that "Solomonchik would never say anything for nothing." Then the elder Shpilman gets up and shuffles away into the dark depths of the vast old St. Petersburg apartment.

Ten minutes later, he returns, accompanied by a guy of about twenty - three or twenty-five, carrying various branded bags. Although the guy was a head and a half taller than old Shpilman, there was no doubt that his last name was also Shpilman. Even with the unkempt black hair that still hung in wild curls on his head.

- Here is what is now called clothing - Shpilman looked accusingly at the mountain of goods brought - Your size is a big deficit,- he turns to Lech - so the choice is small, the rest is only under the order, and You, young man - this is him already to me - have a lot to choose from, but I do not advise you to take a lot, You will soon grow up.

The next half hour was spent in fitting, which was helped by the guy who came with Shpilman. He turned out to be the grandson of an "old sick Jew", introduced himself as Boris, was talkative and quite objective when assessing how suitable things are.

We managed to pick up only dark blue jeans, a black zip-up jumper and a short leather jacket for Lech. Fortunately, Boris also had black suede "pumov" sneakers in size 46. The fact that they approached Lech made even the elder Shpilman happy, who sat motionless on a chair during the entire fitting, imitating the 'Jewish Buddha'! Apparently, sneakers of this size were not in demand for a long time, which could not but hurt the trembling Shpilman's souls.

I limited myself to a light blue denim suit and white Adidas sneakers. I can't bring these things home anyway. Lech endured the fitting stoically, and only sometimes sighed so heavily that both Shpilman, for sure, included this sigh in their family repertoire.

But when Lech looked at the result in The mirror, even he did not have the heart to make a dissatisfied face. It turned out to be a completely different person. All the fashionable things fit perfectly on Alexey's athletic figure. His appearance was expensive, personable, and respectable.

I also liked myself, but firstly, I understood the validity of the remark of Shpilman Sr. that I would definitely grow up over the summer, and secondly, it was unrealistic to bring things home, since it was not possible to explain "where", "where" and "for what money".

After joint Shpilman calculations and "discounts", the final result was nine hundred and thirty rubles. Lech's eyes bulged. I made a brutal face at him and, once again sighing heavily, Lech reached for the money. This pantomime, apparently, did not escape the eyes of the younger Shpilman, but it is a pity.

After the calculations and packaging of the purchased goods, it was izi Borukhovich's turn:

- So do the young People want to talk for a suit?

"Yes," I say.

"No," exhales the same time as me Leh. It seems that after the announced amount for purchases, he even forgot to breathe in frustration.

- My brother just doesn't like fitting and shopping,- I comment to Shpilman Sr. - but the suit is necessary, and he will be patient.

Izya once again chewed his lips and said that he would try to limit himself to two fittings. It seems that the prospect of lost money and angry Lehi did not appeal to him equally.

The cost of a "very good suit" of four hundred rubles caused a doomed expression on Lehi's face. But the older Shpilman was already fussing with fitting...

when we were about to leave, Boris offered to look at imported sunglasses, which cost us both another hundred and fifty rubles. He also wrote down the Shpilmans ' home phone number, agreed on the time of the next fitting, in a week, and handed me a flashlight as a present, and Lech - a baseball cap!