Today I want to tell you one funny story which happened to me in the village.
In the evening in our village before the holiday, it is customary to heat the bathhouse, but no one likes to go alone.
There were four of us going to the bathhouse: me, my cousin, her husband and my brother. And our bathhouse consists of three sections.
The dressing room, there we have chairs, a table, an electric kettle, tea leaves and, most importantly, playing cards.
The steam room is small, but there are two shelves: one higher, the other lower.
And the bathhouse, they only wash there.
So, the four of us came to the bathhouse. We looked at the degrees in the steam room, it seemed too low for us, and we began to play cards (we all sat dressed). And then our boys decided who would go for a steam bath and who would wash when.
The boys went to take a steam bath first, and we remained sitting in the dressing room. My sister and I got bored, and we went to the bathhouse - there is a window that looks out onto the steam room. We wanted to scare the boys. We slowly went into the bathhouse, went to the window, and there it was a bummer. They hung a towel on the window. They screwed us over, in a word. Well, then my sister and I went to the dressing room and began to think new plan laugh at them.
While we were thinking, the guys left the steam room and immediately went to the bathhouse. And we go to the steam room with her. Accordingly, they took the towel. We
hung theirs. And we decided to laugh at them in a different way - look out the window, and then scare them. But they screwed us over again. They hung a towel on that side too. Well, we got completely bored, and we were lying on the shelves, warming up, when suddenly a towel fell from the window. And there were two faces in the window... She and I managed to crawl under the benches so that they wouldn’t see us naked.
Well, here we were in a good mood, and we went to the dressing room to cool off a little. I told my sister to sit quietly and I would make fun of the boys. I slowly left the dressing room and walked up to the door that leads to the bathhouse. I suddenly open it and run into the steam room. All you could hear from the bathhouse was screaming and yelling.
I left the steam room as if nothing had happened, our boys came out of the bathhouse, both angry. And they said:
- Well, hold on, we will take revenge on you for such a joke...
Hmm, we won't be able to take revenge. My sister and I went to the bathhouse in towels, and the boys remained sitting in the dressing room; I made the dressing room door a drawer. ® Well, so that they definitely don’t do this to us. Entering the bathhouse, I hung a towel on the window.
And we began to wash, calmly listening to every rustle. When suddenly the door to the bathhouse opens. However, we did not hear them move the box away from their door. Olya (my sister) grabs a basin and covers herself with it; she was lucky, and the basin turned out to be small. And she is plump for me. And I stood behind the stove. I only had a ladle in my hand, since at that moment I was pouring hot water. A
They, the pests, stood and watched as we covered ourselves, and laughed at us; we ourselves almost died with laughter.
They left and said:
- Wash calmly...
Well, yes, you can easily wash yourself with them, my sister and I put a stick in the door so that they wouldn’t open it. ® But outside the door we hear a rumble, that they are moving something there. Well, we spat on them and began to wash ourselves calmly. We decided that we would open the door later. And they shout to us:
“You won’t leave the bathhouse and you won’t get into the dressing room.”
We didn't take their words seriously. We washed ourselves and began to open the door, we both wrapped ourselves in towels, Olya wanted to open it with a run
the door, but it turned out that there was nothing at the door - it flew out of the bathhouse like a champagne cork. From the dressing room we only heard laughter, my sister was already laughing herself, I didn’t even have the strength to hold a towel. We safely entered the dressing room and tried to kick the boys out so we could get dressed. They didn’t let us get dressed, so we then took our things and went to the steam room to get dressed. Sister held the door
and I got dressed, and then vice versa. Well, here we decided to laugh at them too. Since they were both pulling the door, my sister and I will let go of the door one, two, three....
We let go of the door, the guys fall onto the chair.
This is how we took revenge on them for the fall of Olya.
That's how we had fun going to the bathhouse.
The story is real 😀
Every year on Maundy Thursday, on the eve of Easter, Orthodox Christians wash away accumulated sins. It is generally accepted that going to the bathhouse on this day is a primordial domestic tradition which Russians have followed for many centuries. In fact, this is a legend created by foreigners who have never been to Rus' anywhere except Moscow and major cities. Only the wealthiest Russian people could afford their own bathhouse. The majority steamed in Russian ovens, risking burning and getting dirty in soot. Even at the end of the 19th century, there were entire provinces where residents for centuries washed only twice - at birth and after death. No fewer legends were created later around public baths in cities. But, judging by the documents, family rooms, for example, in the legendary baths were used not by families, but by prostitutes to receive clients, while family people did not go there for fear of contracting bad diseases.
"They come out as God created them"
True, a considerable number of residents Russian Empire They solved the problem of choosing between a bathhouse and a stove much simpler - they didn’t wash at all. In 1876, Alexander II appointed chamberlain V. Charykov at the head of the Minsk province. The new governor arrived at his new destination from Vyatka, where for six years he ruled a vast forest region with some success. So one could imagine his surprise when he learned that the inhabitants of the territories under his jurisdiction from now on did not have baths, did not wash in stoves and never bathed in rivers and other bodies of water. There were many reasons given for this. It was believed that the Catholic landowners, not having the habit of baths themselves, did not accustom the peasants to them either. Perhaps it was a matter of constant severe fatigue, due to which the peasants did not have enough strength not only to build a bathhouse, but also to simply bring water for washing in the hallway, as was done in the southern parts of the country. Swimming in rivers and lakes was not common outside the Minsk province. After all, the swimming season lasted from June 24, from Ivan Kupala, until Ilyin’s day - July 20, and besides, the water even at that time not in every body of water in the middle zone warmed up above 15-17 degrees.
However, in the villages of Russian Old Believers who fled from the “Nikon heresy” outside the Moscow state, everything was completely different: on Saturdays and before holidays, bathhouses were heated, and children splashed on the river shallows in the summer.
Chamberlain Charykov decided that hygiene came first and issued a strict decree on the widespread construction of baths and the organization of bathing places on rivers, lakes and ponds. But the authorities in the counties were in no hurry to implement the strict instructions. As a rule, all district leaders referred to the lack of funds for the purchase of timber and the construction of bathhouses, as well as the fact that the bottom of the rivers was swampy and the peasants could not be driven into the water by any force. But from the Pinsk district they reported that no one wants to go to the built baths, and in their justification they cited a local proverb: “Pinchuk washes himself twice in his life - at birth and after death.” However, the governor insisted on his own, and the baths were built with a creak. But this did not bring any results. One of the doctors who inspected the province wrote in the 1890s that, while driving through the districts, he constantly encountered the ruins of bathhouses built by order of Charykov. Only a few survived, in the district towns, which were used by officials and teachers sent from the Great Russian provinces.
The same author stated that hydrophobia in the Minsk province affects not only peasants, but also representatives of other classes. And as an example, he told the story of a priest’s widow, who had a tangle - her hair became tangled from lack of care and turned into tow, which was impossible to comb. The easiest thing would be to cut your hair, but folk beliefs, in this case, the mat penetrated into the head, so the priest endured it as long as she could, and then, when the hair became too heavy and threatened to break her neck, she fell ill and was in this state for 42 years. Moreover, as the doctor noted, she was looked after all this time by two daughters who did not marry in order to care for their mother. And there were many similar examples in those places, as the author of the report stated, although not so grotesque.
Much more effective means the introduction of bathhouses in places where they had never existed was a transition from recruiting to emergency service in the army. During their service, soldiers and sailors became accustomed to baths and cleanliness, and those of them who, after serving, returned to their native places, often tried to acquire their own steam room. But also big role The rise in peasant incomes played a role in the spread of baths. After all, the bathhouse, as in former times, remained a symbol of prestige and wealth. Due to the revolution and wars, the process, however, was somewhat delayed, and in many Russian villages traditional Russian baths appeared only many decades later - in the era of developed socialism.
"These rooms are breeding grounds for infection"
It was much more difficult for city residents to acquire their own bathhouse. However, these subjects of the empire could always use the services of public and industrial baths. The latter, in factories and factories, were subject to constant criticism from the progressive Russian public. In almost all enterprises, a considerable fee for using the bathhouse - 5-7 kopecks per session - was deducted from the workers' salaries, and the owners strove to save on fuel or bathhouse equipment, which did not happen in private bathhouses. St. Petersburg artist M. Grigoriev wrote:
“At the entrance to the vestibule of the bathhouse, the first thing that caught your eye was a large icon case with a lamp, which was supposed to call on the grace of God for trading. On the sides there were counters on which they sold brooms, soap, sponges, washcloths, towels, socks, soaked and frozen apples, gingerbread ", lollipops, beer, lemonade, kvass. There was also a cash register; special metal cases contained rolls of tickets, which the cashier tore off."
Private baths, as a rule, were heated and maintained much better than factory ones, but most often they turned out to be much more expensive.
“Pay,” St. Petersburg writers testified, “was by class - 5, 10, 20, 40 kopecks and family rooms for 1 ruble. In the cheap classes (5 and 10 kopecks) in the locker rooms, the benches were painted wooden, clothes were handed over to the headman. expensive bathhouses (20 and 40 kopecks) had soft sofas and ottomans in white covers, outerwear was handed over on a hanger, but dresses and linen were not handed in. In the soap rooms, the benches were wooden, unpainted. In the family rooms there was a dressing room with an ottoman and soft chairs in white slipcovers and a soap bar with a shelf, a bathtub, a shower and a large wooden bench."
True, in many bathhouses family rooms were called so purely nominally.
“In order for the whole family to wash themselves,” Grigoriev recalled, “there were special rooms in the baths and on the signs they wrote: “Family baths.” In fact, these rooms were occupied by prostitutes with their gentlemen and even sick people with clear signs bad diseases on the body. It was believed that these rooms were breeding grounds for infection, and people avoided going to them.”
Wealthy gentlemen, as a rule, preferred washing with the help of bathhouse attendants:
"IN expensive classes“,” testified the same source, “for steaming and washing, they hired bathhouse attendants who were experts in their field: a broom played in their hands, at first politely and gently touching all parts of the visitor’s body, gradually the force of the blow grew stronger until encouraging interjections were heard . Here, on the part of the bathhouse attendant, there must be a subtle instinct in order to stop in time and not offend the person lying down. Then the bathhouse attendant proceeded to a home-grown massage: he seemed to chop the visitor’s body with the ribs of his palms, then rubbed them with patting and, finally, with an unexpectedly strong and dexterous movement he brought the visitor to a sitting position.”
Despite the hardships of the work, serving in the bathhouse was a good way to get out into the world.
“The bathhouse attendants did not receive a salary,” Zasosov and Pyzin testified, “they were content with tips. Their work was hard, but they still tried to get into the artel of bathhouse attendants, since the income was good and the work was clean. In addition, at the bathhouse there was a hostel for singles and single. The stokers, cashiers and laundresses were hired and received a salary. plum It was near the hallway family rooms, there were a lot of tips for various services."
It happened that the path from serving in a bathhouse to own business did not always turn out to be righteous. St. Petersburg writers of everyday life recalled the story of the cashier from the bathhouses of the Tarasov brothers, which thundered at the beginning of the 20th century:
“At first, in his youth, he worked as a bellhop at the hotel rooms. A broken-hearted, very helpful, handsome Yaroslavl soon attracted attention with his efficiency and intelligence and was promoted to the position of cashier of the baths. As the years passed, Nikita grew fat and with his handsome appearance began to resemble his face and figure pa famous composer Glazunov. But later it was discovered that his resemblance to this noble, impeccable man was purely external. In fact, he turned out to be a big “masurik”: in addition to Tarasov’s tickets, he ordered rolls of his own tickets and began to quickly trade them: one ticket was real - Tarasov’s, the other was his own. The profitability of the bathhouses began to noticeably decrease, and the figure of the cashier began to gain weight. The cashier began to dress in the latest fashion, wearing a tie pin and cufflinks with diamonds and a double-breasted gold chain, on one end of which was a gold watch, and on the other a gold stopwatch, which he needed when playing on the races. But he had a small salary, 70 rubles, and an apartment near a bathhouse with heating and lighting. In addition to this scam, he committed commercial fraud when accepting coal and firewood for the bathhouse and had income from suppliers of beer and lemonade. His art was opened and reported to the owner. Tarasov said: “Kick out this scoundrel immediately.” The manager reported: “He has a family, we need to give him time to settle in.” - “To hell with him, give him two weeks, and then provide him with a horse to transport the property.” Tarasov and his manager turned out to be naive people: Nikitka had already rented two bathhouses in St. Petersburg, which neither the Tarasovs nor their manager knew anything about. He got ready in two days, he already had an apartment at the rented bathhouses, and threw such a housewarming party with champagne that the invitees just gasped.”
It all started in advance, at some regular drinking party, when Yulia and Katya said that they wanted to celebrate their birthday together in the sauna. Interesting. I've never been in a sauna before and good tradition, like Lukashin, I don’t either. But I was interested in what was proposed.
Has arrived significant date. February 6. During the day I managed to work as a press service at the opening of the Greco-Roman wrestling. But more on this in a separate topic. So that evening came. We met Gleb in the metro and headed to Aviamotornaya, where we picked up Dimon and Senya.
The sauna was hellish ominous place, with its entire appearance saying that “you guys are in the Hostel and now they will burn out your eyes, cut your tendons and, in general, you will die a slow painful death,” as in popular American thrillers. The minibus driver dropped us off on the unknown Andronovskoe highway, ahead Railway, on the right are garages, on the left is an industrial zone, a high iron fence and darkness. Hmmm... I wonder what's next. Let's call Katya. Long beeps on the phone, and then “The subscriber’s device is turned off...” with all the ensuing consequences. After about 10 minutes of us following Dimon, who convinced me that he understood where it was and was confidently leading us into the absorbing darkness between factories or something like that, the phone rang:
- Ale... where are you... you need to be right at the intersection behind iron fence checkpoint They will meet you there.
It makes me feel better that we still have to return to the illuminated road, where we were dropped off, and where occasionally cars still pass by and even people are doomedly waiting for something at the bus stop. “Well,” Dima saw the gate, “here we go.”
- Hello! - he stuck his head into the window of the entrance to the stern guy in uniform, - and we should take a steam bath in the bathhouse!
We burst out laughing. The whole appearance of the gate did not give a single hint that behind it there might be a bathhouse or even some kind of entertainment establishment. Perhaps the morgue, the cauldrons of hell and Nikita Dzhigurda, who rules the roost.
“It’s the entrance next door, guys,” the stern guy answered, and we laughed again and moved on.
“Ale, well, we’ve come, meet us,” we called and began to obediently wait. Sitting at the entrance was a young security guard and an old one - the shift leader - who had his feet up on the table and was staring at the TV as old Hulk Hogan, dressed in some kind of "diapers", as it seemed to me, was finishing off someone in a wrestling match.
“Damn, why took so long?” I was still uneasy, when suddenly, from somewhere deep in the building, women’s screams were heard distantly - something between laughter and screams of horror. Pictures from the film “An American Werewolf in Paris” immediately pop into my head, how hundreds of Americans, under the pretext of a party, were led into a huge hall, after which the gates were locked and a group of people, after an injection, turned into werewolves and.. more you can guess what happened. Gleb and Dimon just laughed. Semyon was imperturbably silent and sometimes put on a passive smile.
A girl comes out behind us and in a quiet voice invites us to follow her, through the entrance to the street and further past dark buildings. While we were walking, I managed to see a map on which many buildings were marked, and several small ones on the outskirts, I decisively declared that the 14th was definitely a morgue or gas chamber. We went down the stairs to the basement and found ourselves, surprisingly, in a rather positive room. It was warm and humid there, as it probably should be in a sauna. A large room with a massage chair, a covered table, karaoke and a sofa. Katya, Yulia and Pasechnik were already there, and, having changed clothes, Katya led us further on the excursion. In the next room there was the steam room itself behind a transparent glass slightly tinted door, a swimming pool with cold water, shower and other amenities. Next there was another door, behind which a steep staircase led to the second floor, upon rising to which a large, large bed was revealed, which made us noticeably happy and smiled mysteriously.
Of all the guests, the only one left to wait was Valentin, who, in the spirit of his manners, was late as usual, but soon pulled himself up and began to scold.
Naturally, the first entry into the bathhouse. Everyone is in swimsuits and swimming trunks (Dimon wears a thong as a matter of principle). Katyukha and I refused to go to the sauna, because we don’t understand this dubious buzz, all this sweating, jumping into the pool and in general, mascara will run... well, it’s better to talk...
Come on, Light, let's go take a steam bath!
“Well, I don’t want to, I’m afraid that I’ll suddenly feel bad,” I broke down with all my might, “I’ve already drunk, especially and I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Well, I’m also in a thong, so what,” Dima repeated in unison with everyone else, persuading me to comprehend this procedure.
“Well, let’s see, I’ll drink a little more and think about it,” the champagne was already flowing in the heat.
Aaaaah... how are you sitting here! This is fucked up, ahh... I can’t breathe... damn it,” Katyukha, who was sitting next to me, covered her face with her hands, we both felt like chickens in the oven.
“If you could also sunbathe here, it would be great,” someone said from the top bunk. God, how they sit there and still talk, it’s already so unbearable for me downstairs.
I jumped out, greedily gulping in the cool air and pouring myself out of the shower (I didn’t dare jump into the pool), the realization began to come to me that it seemed fun for everyone to take a steam bath together.
Then there were several more visits, each time there was less and less clothes for everyone, despite the fact that there wasn’t that much of it, or rather practically none, but Yulia and I just lost our bras on the way, Valyan was steaming in Adam's suit, covering the painful area with an oak leaf. Intelligent remarks like “Uh... Dima, your testicle fell out” were heard with very serious faces, after which the entertaining game “StringoTwister” began, everyone putting tens into a massage chair, because the discoverer of this pleasure discovered that there was even a massage fifth point and with wild delight and hysterical laughter notified everyone about this: “Oooooh.... fuck.. fuck.. there’s a strapooon, strapoooon!”
More champagne... Karaoke songs... champagne... bathhouse... champagne... bed... champagne... champagne... bathhouse... bed... the screen went dark, leaving a fading white dot in center.
Svetochka:
Dim, tell Gleb that you didn’t stare at my tits when I took off my bra in the sauna. I don’t even understand why I did this. You didn't look, did you?
Dimon SHNIDR:
))))))))))))) It’s the same as if I took off my thong and sat without a thong. Would you stare?))))
Svetochka:
Um... Well, maybe I would have looked briefly, but then I would have immediately looked away)))))))
Dimon SHNIDR:
Ahahahahahahaha....))))
Masya, I feel soooo bad, I got my felt boots dirty..
- I told you yesterday, and you sneeee... sneeee...
The sun had not yet risen, but Mishka was already on Badger Forest. There, about three kilometers from the village, stood an empty Serogon house. Mishka made another walk to the village, brought fishing gear and, returning back, covered his tracks with spruce branches.
Now he felt safe, he lit a hot potbelly stove, boiled some potatoes, and ate with appetite.
The sun was already high when he went to the river to set the tops. From the high bank one could see the indescribable beauty of a forest river covered with snow. The bear stood for a long time, enchanted, admiring the sparkling winter world. On the opposite side of the river, on a steep bank, stood a snow-covered dacha, cut into two floors from selected timber. former director timber industry enterprise, and now a cool businessman and timber merchant. Its windows were decorated with ornate carvings, and a spacious bathhouse was located below the river. The dacha was not yet inhabited. When Mishka left for St. Petersburg, craftsmen from the city built a fireplace in the upper room and were decorating the rooms. Now there was no one here. And Mishka even thought that it would be nice for him to live at this dacha until spring. All the same, until the snow melts, the owners will not get here. But he was immediately frightened by this thought, remembering that the police were supposed to be hunting for him.
He went down to the river, cut the ice across the riverbed with an ax, filled the hole with spruce branches so that the fish could only pass in one place, and cut out a wide wormwood under the top.
Soon he finished his work and went to the hut to rest from his labors. The hut was small and cramped. But there was a special forest comfort in it. Mishka threw spruce branches on the bunk and collapsed in all his clothes on the fragrant, resinous bedding, rejoicing at the peace he had finally found.
Mishka woke up from strange sounds filling the forest. It seemed that a landing force of aliens had landed in Badger Forest, producing incredible, rumbling sounds that shook the hundred-year-old pines. The bear fell off the bunk and stepped outside the hut doors.
Prostitute, prostitute, prostitute! - thundered and howled in the forest.- Moth, but who is to blame here?
The music came from the direction of the river. The bear carefully walked towards the shore. There were cars parked at the director's dacha, thick smoke rising from the chimneys to the sky, the bathhouse was heating up, doors were slamming, music was blasting at full blast, and every now and then the sound of boisterous girlish laughter could be heard.
Mishka's heart began to beat anxiously. He hid behind the bushes and, holding back the excitement that rose in his throat, began to watch what was happening...
He saw how she went down to the bathhouse funny company. The director of their timber industry enterprise walked heavily ahead, followed by three long-legged girls, stumbling off the beaten path into the snow and squealing, followed by some other large, thoroughbred men. Soon the bathhouse was filled with steam.
From inside she could hear the gasping of a heathen, muffled laughter and groans.
Finally, the doors of the dressing room swung open, and the whole cheerful company spilled out naked into the pure virgin snow. Mishkin's director, shaking his saggy belly, as if a boar was punching with his steaming pink body fluffy snow, taking the company to the river, right into the wormwood where Mishkina’s top stood.
Three beautiful girls found themselves on the ice, just opposite Mishka’s hiding place. It seemed as if you could stretch out your hand and take out each one.
From this proximity and the sight of naked girls’ bodies, Mishka, who lived involuntarily in severe abstinence, became dizzy, and his face glowed with the unbearable heat of shame and unknown forbidden passion.
As if drunk, he stood up and, staggering, wandered to his wretched shelter. And from behind, excitingly girlish laughter and joyful squeals teased and beckoned...
In the hut of the tar smokers, he again lit the stove, drank tea with lingonberry leaves and lay down on his bunk, sighing sadly over his dissolute, worthless life, which now, after the morning statement on the radio, had become completely devoid of any meaning.
Mishka was left without parents early. The mother drowned while rafting, the father became a drunkard. They say that the wrong coil was installed on the moonshine still. It was supposed to be stainless steel, but Bartholomew installed copper. That’s why the moonshine turned out to be poisonous.
No one in this life loved Mishka. After the craft, he walked with the girl and even kissed, and when he went into the army, his love immediately jumped out to marry a coven who had come from Transcarpathia and drove off with him forever.
And after the army there was work in the forest, and drinking on weekends. He was a prominent and kind guy, but there were no girls around, only guys remained in Vyselki, the girls all went to cities. You will inevitably get drunk here! It would be better for him to be born Sanya’s goat! I would sit on the stove and eat peeled potatoes. Look, it’s freezing in his office!
Mishka felt so unbearably sorry for himself that a burning tear boiled in his eyes and fell into the spruce branches.
At night he left the hut, the same song thundered in the dacha and echoed a hundredfold throughout Badger Forest:
"Prostitute, prostitute, prostitute,
Night butterfly, but who is to blame here?
Centuries-old pines trembled under the blows of decibels and snow sparkling under the light of the moon fell from the tops. The moon shone like a spotlight. In the vast abyss of heaven, radiant stars shone, and the night was as bright as day.
The bear, like a magnet, was drawn again to the dacha, music and fun. And he went there under the pretext of rechecking the top. She could have been knocked down while diving into the ice hole, or even pulled out onto the ice.
The director's dacha sparkled with lights. shore, Mishka saw through the wide windows her fabulous feast, filled with all kinds of dishes. Someone was dancing, someone was already sleeping in a chair. Suddenly the doors of the dacha opened, spilling a flurry of music and electric radiance into the frosty purity of the night.
Mishka saw someone jump out onto the porch in a fiery halo, rush down into the darkness, the steps on the hill creaked, and then in the ghostly moonlight on the ice of the river he saw a girl, one of the three who had been here during the day. She ran up to a blackened hole, in which the icy streams of a waking river curled, and threw herself on her knees in front of it.
Mishka has never seen anything like this in his life. beautiful girls. Her hair was loose over her shoulders, her high chest was heaving heavily, and tears were streaming down her beautiful face.
The country doors opened again, and a man came out onto the porch:
Margo! - he shouted imperiously. - Do you hear? Come back! Apparently, he was calling to the girl who was now kneeling in front of the wormwood.
- Malya! - he repeated insistently, - Malka! Get home. I'm tired of waiting.
The girl did not answer. Mishka heard only quiet sobs. The man stomped on the porch, swore and went back. The girl whispered something and made a movement towards the hole.
Mishka felt unbearably sorry for her. He jumped out of the bushes and in an instant found himself next to the girl.
No need! - he said in a wooden voice. “It’s deep here.” The girl raised her head.
- Who are you? - she asked distantly. She smelled of expensive perfume, wine and foreign tobacco.
“Teddy bear,” he said worriedly.
-Are you local?
- I live here. “In the forest,” Mishka answered in the same wooden way. The girl lowered her head again.
- And I'm Margot. Or Malya. Prostitute.
- Is this a stripper, or what?
-Not really. Prostitute.
Mishka did not know the meaning of this word and decided that prostitute was the girl’s surname.
“Don’t stand with your knees on the ice,” Mishka warned. “Otherwise you’ll catch a cold.”
The girl suddenly began to cry, and her shoulders trembled slightly. Mishka, suppressing his embarrassment, took her by the elbows and placed her next to him.
Do you hear, Mishka,” she suddenly said and raised her full of grief beautiful eyes. - Take me away from here. Somewhere.
And Mishka suddenly felt that the old Mishka was no longer there, that he was now completely at the mercy of those sorrowful eyes. And that he is ready to do whatever she says.
“My feet are cold,” she said. “Warm my knees.” Mishka crouched down and wrapped his stiff arms around his elastic knees.
Mali. Her legs were bare and cold. The bear bent over them and began to warm them with his breath.
Let’s go,” she said quickly. “Get me out of here quickly...
They climbed the path to the hill. Unexpectedly for himself, Mishka easily picked her up in his arms and carried her to his forest winter hut. And she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed herself tightly against Mishka’s chest, clad in a sweatshirt that smelled of smoke and pine, and fell silent.
When Mishka reached the hut, the girl was already deeply asleep.
He laid her carefully on the bunk covered with spruce branches and sat by the window, listening to the unknown feelings that had settled in his soul half an hour ago, but had already taken root as if he had lived with these feelings forever and would continue to live just as forever.
Malya breathed barely audibly. The night was as bright as day. The moon was shining like a spotlight outside the window.
