Book -11 Aliens novella. V. Speys

Читать онлайн книгу.

Book -11 Aliens novella - V. Speys


Скачать книгу
always have to bring you back to our field of vibrations?

      – I remember our tasks here. I remember that there will not be one, there will not be you, the same will happen to me.

      – Remember we are not alone on Earth and we, like this defenseless boy, have many enemies here.

      – And where is it to CHDCU (Coalition of Highly Developed Civilizations of the Universe) look, ah, commander? – The voice sounds ironic.

      Chapter 5

      I urgently needed a friend, a sincere, strong adviser, who would replace my father. To be with a friend always and everywhere together, to feel his protection and support, is not this happiness. Such a friend did not have.

      One day from Pereyaslav Khmelnitsky came to my grandmother her nephew Uncle Kolya, the son of her brother Gregory. He was on a business trip in Kiev and drove to us with a mission from Grandfather Gregory to send a letter to my grandmother. In a letter, Grandfather Grigoris invited my grandmother to come to visit, referring to the fact that because of his sores he cannot start on trips. My grandmother responded by dictating my mother a reply message, in which she promised that she would definitely get out and leave when she was ready for the trip. Uncle Kolya was busy with me all day, playing ball. And after dinner we go with him to the park. There, along the avenue of ancient lime trees, planted since the time of the sugar plant Tereshchenko, we observed the way of the ants. As these toilers, moving one after another, dragged on themselves, who a piece of the stem of grass, who is a tiny leaf, and who is a fragment of a black wing of a beetle. Uncle Kolya, while walking with me park, told me different stories in which heroes were bold and courageous travelers who overcome adversities that met in their path. I was interested with him. And how I regretted having spent the night with us, he left early in the morning.

      Loneliness was sweeping the wave, suppressing the spiritual impulses to the beautiful vision of the World. Everything seemed gloomy, unfriendly, and hostile. It is especially painful in the moments of not understanding by children, relatives and relatives, and I have invented loyal friends for myself. So my friend became a penknife, which helped to create from cut twigs real "swords" or "guns", which I fought with evil nettles, feeling at this moment strong and brave.

      Perovny knife gave me a cousin of Volodya. He was the son of Aunt Kelly, my mother's sister. He graduated from an agricultural technical school in the field of horticulture, and his mother invited him to clip the apple trees in our garden. The knife was horticultural for cutting cuttings when chips were sliced. At the end of the blade there was a special protrusion for opening the incision of the bark, and very sharp. I also had a colored glass, blue – blue, in which the world appeared in such blue colors as in a movie, and the birds, and leaves in it, and grass and sky, everything was blue. And the sky during the day seemed as it was at night. Only the sun, as bright as ever, and look at it through the blue glass is as painful as without a glass. Still my friend was a cockerel. He walked proudly around the yard. His multi- colored tail developed in the wind, attracting the attention of layers. Cocky had a good fight. And although I was rather afraid of him, I considered the cockerel to be my friend, because he was never gentle and was always bullying me. Sometimes, spread the wing, and sideways – sideways approaching, bellicose crying like a turkey. I scare the bully with a "saber", but it's all in vain. With a wild clucking, the cock jumps to me on the head, beak on the head and forces me to flee. I hide behind the massive door of a wooden corridor. A cockerel with a view of the winner, pacing, decorously turning the sides of the layers, they say, look what kind of hero I am. Bitter moments of loneliness…

      The last year before the school was particularly difficult. A summer kindergarten for the children of collective farm workers "Bolshevik" was opened, in the winter Shpitkovsky kindergarten did not work. Grandma was going to take me away.

      "Are you lying down again?" She called out to me. I had already dozed off, lying on the stove, dreaming of my friends. "Come on, get down, otherwise it will be nine o'clock soon," Grandmother insisted inexorably.

      I reluctantly got off the stove. I took off the long saurian sisters, who served me as a nightdress. He put on his pants, shorts on single harness- suspender pants, sleeveless and ran out barefoot in the yard. There was already waiting for me cockerel. The bird, seeing its enemy, glanced sideways at the eye, and went on the offensive, trotting violently from foot to foot, as if imitating a heavy goose. But the grandmother creaked openly, opening the corridor door and a grandmother appeared on the threshold. The rooster reluctantly retreated, pretending that he was collecting grain, and he had no business for the boy. Grandmother, being entangled at the stove, was late with her grandson. But, nevertheless, my grandmother took my hand, and we set off. I had no choice but to follow the grumbling grandmother. We went out into the street. Then the road stretched along the avenue of century- old lime trees, the remains of an ancient landowner's park, the violent bloom that greeted me and my grandmother. Suddenly my grandmother stopped and looked me over:

      "Well, you are mine, to whom do you seem like, eh?" She clasped, and grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, pulled me to her. I shook my head, but my grandmother inexorably began to lick the grimy cheeks, spitting at the dirty saliva. "Washing", thus, my face, she led me to the kindergarten. And, me, I did not want to go there. I did not want to part with my friends the Knife, Blue Glass, and Cock; they were not allowed to take them with me. I unwillingly trailed behind, deliberately lagged behind the hurrying grandmother. And the chestnut trees greeted with green leaves. The park was full of friendly hymns.

      "Yes, go faster!" She urged me. And I added a step, but as soon as my grandmother turned away, walked a little forward, again lagged behind, and finally decided to hide behind the trunk of a spreading chestnut.

      – You see what a child, hid! From the scoundrel! Come on, come out! "Grandmother, grumbling, thus, came back, passed by, and I ran out of the home and mockingly said to her in the back:

      – B- ah- babushka, and who are you calling there?!

      "Well, wait, I'll tell Aunt Ole, she'll give you nettles, she'll treat you!" Now will you know how to mock the old people?!

      That's kindergarten. The teacher full, round- faced, met us at the gate.

      "I will not accept you." The children have already been in the dining room for a long time.

      – Yes, he does not need to eat. Let it go to play! Retorted the grandmother.

      "We cannot do this." – And, addressing me, – And you will be punished for being late. The last time I receive you. – And already to the grandmother, – It is more that not late! She ordered severely. To which grandmother waved her hand grumbling:

      – A- ah! – We know you!

      I followed the teacher after him.

      In the dining room it was warm and hot, the wooden tables were already removed.

      – Sit down at the table! The teacher ordered.

      I sat down and began to talk with my feet. Suddenly, a long thin boy grew up beside him. It was late for the kindergarten of Jester Kolya. I considered him my friend. He also did not have a father and he, too, like me, was late for the kindergarten today. Our friendship began even from last year, when my grandmother's sister's father came to our house to measure my mother with Albert, my father. Her name was Aunt Zina, and she lived in Moscow, and worked as a stenographer in the office of the government of the USSR. Mother said that she had stenographer various meetings of government meetings and even attended the visits of foreign delegations at the invitation of the government. She brought a whole lot of chocolate sweets with cherry liqueur, cognac, well, I was allowed to take two pockets in my jacket. And Aunt Zina, and my mother strictly ordered me not to call her grandmother, to call only Aunt Zina, although in fact she was my great- aunt. Aunt Zina volunteered to take me to the kindergarten, but my mother did not allow, as it turned out, my mother was afraid that my father would take me to Moscow and give it to Aunt Zina. That's why I, with stuffed pockets of chocolate sweets, my mother and Aunt Zina together led me to a kindergarten. This is where the Jester Kohl appeared, who did not pay any attention to me before attention, since he was a whole year older and had his own circle of friends of the same age. He timidly approached me and asked: – Valik, and give me a candy? – He appeared next to us and


Скачать книгу