Гриша Мерседес, рассказ Н Нестеровой

              Grisha Mercedes

Grisha has been dreaming about his own car for a long time. To be more exact, all his life. Still a boy, he terribly envied car amateurs. He thought that the words “car” and “amateur” were welded correctly. But there were 5 children in the family, they couldn’t afford to buy even “Zaporozhets”.

Little Grisha often imagined himself a driver: he would saddle the chair and turn the steering  wheel of an imaginary car. Brothers and sisters laughed: have you gone far? But when Grisha grew a bit older, he could dismantle the alarm clock or a bike, found on the rubbish dump. He could also collect, repair or think where to find the lacking detail. Then everybody admitted: “the master of the craft”. He felt the metallic soul of mechanisms, and they paid him back with the second life.

Mother was proud of him: either one neighbor would ask Grisha to look at her sewing machine, or the other – to repair her iron. And of course, he did and earned a little money for the ice cream. And the neighbor, possessing “ Moskvich”, got in Grisha’s face an indispensible assistant- mechanic. Grisha spent a lot of time in his garage, bringing the car to an automobile perfection. The boys in the yard considered him a crank but never teased him because he could use fists too.

In the army Grisha was driving a tank, but having demobilized, he didn’t work as a driver because they paid more at the railway depot. He worked as a locksmith, in the course of time got a higher level and married Marinka, a girl working in the controller’s office.

 Soon the daughter was born to them and in 5 years – the son. For a long time they couldn’t manage to save money for the automobile – one can’t do without furniture, a fridge or TV. Children grew very quickly, they needed new clothes, footwear, there were other family expenditures, and their wages were not enough.

Yet, by the beginning of the 90th Grisha has saved the first 1000 dollars which afterwards had burnt in the default. Grisha cursed the owner of the bank fiercely and threatened to kill him, had they met.

The following 9 years the family lived in the regime of strict economy. Marina put down the expenses into a special note book. Gtisha checked them and swore if he found them extra.

Sometimes Marina hid a part of her money to buy some new things for the children. Grisha thought that jeans could be warn till they became shorts. He wasn’t mean, simply he had a dream. And it cost big money.

Marina’s native village turned into a country cottage. They worked there, like slaves. Holidays on the sea shore and in the resorts were not for them. But they had their own potatoes, cabbage, carrots, cucumbers and tomatoes. They salted and canned vegetables, dried mushrooms. Grisha’s mother-in-law, whom he called Mother Vera, fed 4 suckling pigs and 2 tens of hens. They didn’t sell pigs, kept them for themselves, saved the pork in the fridges, both in the country and in town, prepared stewed meat and kept it in the liter jars. When it was eaten up, they cut hens. And their own meat couldn’t be compared with what one bought in the market or shopping centers. 

Daughter Sweta told maliciously: our pork’s period is over, now we’ve got poultry’s. But Grisha put forward the argument:  the net cost of our products is much less, our labor is not taken into account either. And lf we had bought food, we wouldn’t have been able to save money, and now we can

Son Vovka asked for a computer. “First – the car” – was Grisha’s categorical answer. Everybody treated Grisha’s dream with understanding and respect. If brothers and sisters asked to lend them money, they always retuned it in time. Mother Vera, whose household prospered, kept herself as a farm woman. Her neighbors envied her: their sons-in-law were either drunkards, or lazy-bones. And Grisha toiled from morning till night, on holidays and days off, besides the work in the depot. The man-tractor.

The dream about the personal automobile warmed Grisha’s heart and lighted him the life road, as the Polar star showed the direction through storms to the ancient seamen.

Marina was well aware too, that their family equanimity was due to the future car. They had their own Polar star and there were no quarrels and scandals in the family, as in some of their neighbors’

 The automobile became like a fetish, which everybody idolized. Grisha could speak for hours about the advantages and disadvantages of different models – wake him up in the middle of the night – and he will answer your questions about it. He picked up knowledge from the journals which he had acquired free from the nearby book stall. Marina therefore didn’t scold him for that {son needed a new jacket}. True, she didn’t know that Grisha had to flirt with the plain shop girl, several times had seen her home and even squeezed a little.

And of course soon he became an expert in the field. Many of his co-workers had bought the cars taking into the account his recommendations. Grisha long before the saved sum was contemplating: whether to buy a new domestic car or second-hand foreign. The balance was tilting either in one direction, or the other. At last the ambition won. To come to the country cottage by “Zhiguli”, even of the last model, or by a foreign car – the picture was quite different. And finally Grisha became absolutely sure what firm, make and year of the car he will choose – not older than 10 years, not more than 100 klm mileage and not having been in the accident. And it would be nothing else but “Mercedes”.

Since the choice of second-hand cars was not great in their town, Grisha contacted the Moscow dealer. Though the latter demanded 5%, there was nothing to be done. Every round of talks with the dealer was exciting and tremulous for Grisha. If he or Marina knew Great Russian literature better, they could compare that feeling with Natasha’s first ball.

The specialist from the capital, at first irritated by Grisha’s boring questions, demonstration of technological knowledge, gradually turned into “one of the lads” and sincerely wanted to help the “intelligent guy”. The fact that Grisha had his own fellow in Moscow added respect to him among the neighbors and friends in the depot. And the nick-name “Grisha- Mercedes” stuck to him.

 And at last the necessary car has been found in Hamburg. The husband of a German pensioner had been ill for a long time, his “Mercedes” was kept in the warm garage for 5 years, its mileage was 60000 klm, and now the widow was selling it. And the cost –$15000 was just the sum which Grisha could afford. Dealer Kostya volunteered to drive the car himself. The color of the car was not hackneyed either – wet asphalt.

To take the money from the bank Grisha set out accompanied by 2 friends from the depot – tall and bulky. The pack of received dollars seemed to Grisha much thinner than he had expected: 5 years toiled for a handful of papers.

After the fellows had left home, Marina and Grisha had been counting money for a long time, strayed, counted again and then decomposed it into piles, per thousand in each. 15 piles! Wrappers! And how much toil and nerves! How much power and possibilities!

They were to go to work in the second shift. Where to hide the money? Many people knew that they had taken it off from the bank and were going to buy the car the next day.  So where? To tear off the plank from the floor? Into the jar with buckwheat? Among the children’s clothes? To the sewing machine? Nothing seemed suitable.

–To put into the plastic bag in the interior of the hen and then – into the freezing camera.– Marina proposed. Grisha liked the idea. But money wouldn’t go into the stony hen. But to leave the bag simply in the freezing camera wouldn’t do. Many act this way. Thieves know this place.

Grisha took the packet of milk, poured the remnants into the glass, rinsed the packet, put the money inside and neatly sealed the packet along the seam. It looked quite natural. An ordinary packet of milk with a bit cut off little corner. Was it possible to guess that it contained the capital for “Mercedes”?

While going in the bus Marina whispered into Gisha’s ear with jealousy:  “Will you love “her” more than me?”

– Whom “her”? – Grisha’s voice got tense, because they were just passing the known book-stall.
– The car.
– I will love you in turn, – he giggled.

They returned from work late at night. The first thing they saw was a big ass of Mother Vera who was washing the floor.
– Have you taken off money? – mother-in- law  asked. – Where have you hidden it?
– And you have already looked for it?.. Found?.. That’s it!

They entered the kitchen together. Grisha opened the fridge. The packet was not there.

Marina shrieked, began to remove the jars, bottles – there was no packet.
– Where? – Grisha wheezed out. – Where is the packet with milk?

– It got spoiled, – mother-in-law answered calmly.– I was washing the refrigerator, shook the packet, it rattled, like the sand. It got sour. It would be no good even for pan cakes, I have thrown it off.

 Marina rushed for the garbage bucket under the sink. It was empty. Mother carried it away to the rubbish dump.

– Mother! What have you done! There was money for the car in the packet! All our dollars!

Grisha didn’t swear. He stood with frantically bulged eyes and opened mouth. Mother Vera fell on the chair with lamentations.

  But she didn’t sit long. Grisha grabbed her by the hand and pulled after himself. Marina ran behind..  Garbage was kept in 3 big metallic containers. There were 3 of them. Refuse was thrown there by the residents of 3 nearby houses../

– Where? – Grisha shook mother-in-law by the shoulders. – Where have you thrown it?

– This one … Or may be that … Oh, I don’t remember. Oh, what disaster!

 Grisha hopped, pulled himself up and got inside one of the containers. He landed on the soft stinking mess. The night was pitch dark. There was neither moon, nor stars.

–What color was our garbage bag? – he asked.
But nobody remembered. Mother-in-law seemed to lose memory from fear.
Grisha got out of the container and ran to the house. Both women followed him. In the flat he rushed for the lumber room and rummaged there for something.
 
– What are you looking for? – Marina asked meekly.
– A lantern. Where is it?
– We carried it to the village cottage, – mother-in-law recollected.
– Phew, Grisha, you smell awfully,– Marina wrinkled.

– Carried?..Smell?.. Grisha turned round. And here he burst out.  Shouted in full voice and swore terribly. But for some reason he condemned not his mother-in-law but his ruined fate: for 15 years slaved in the kitchen garden, poisoned himself with self-made vodka, counted coins, didn’t drink beer with friends, didn’t visit the barber’s. It was Marina, who cut his hair. They were in the cinema onlyl before the wedding. He had the only tie in which he was married. And for what sake? What wretched life he had!

 Frightened children woke up and ran into the room,
– Mom! What is the matter with daddy?

 Grandmother swayed, like mad from side to side.
– I wish I were dead!

– She has accidentally thrown the money for father’s Mercedes to the rubbish dump,– Marina explained to the children.

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– Grisha, don’t swear in the children’s presence, I’ll buy you the new tie.
 
 He suddenly stopped. A terrible idea occurred to him: what if the containers would be taken away at night?
 He grabbed the jacket from the coat stand and jumped out of doors.

He guarded the containers the whole night. Marina didn’t sleep either. She brought him the stool, then hot tea.. At 5 in the morning she brought another stool and joined the husband. They didn’t speak, sat close to each other. Marina was afraid of rats: something rustled in the containers. Insensibly they dozed off, awoke when the dawn began to break. Grisha ordered to bring everybody: mother-in –law, children, and let them put on the worst clothes.

When all of them came: Marina in old coat, sleepy children, Mother Vera, killed by the whole affair and her own fault, Grisha distributed them among the containers. He made mother-in-law stand on the stool and catch at the brim of the container. Then he embraced her legs, raised her and sent inside, into the garbage. In the same way he overturned the wife. Vovka got there himself. The daughter whined:
– It smells bad! And there are no gloves! And what if somebody sees me?
To which Grisha roared: – Want to be killed? Search!
 She had to obey but continued to whine: either she was sick, or felt like visiting the toilet, or the nose itched, but the hands were dirty, but the answer was the same: want to be killed?

 Mother Vera tried the hardest  From time to time she was accusing the people of throwing away quite decent things. Vovka also periodically found something worthy of attention which he was not against of possessing, but Marina wouldn’t allow it.

Soon the first residents began to go out, fastidiously looking at them, taking them for bomzhes
Real bomzhes also appeared, but the yard keeper was the first to come up to them. She understood at once:

– Have you thrown away something?

 But nobody answered: it was a shame to admit the fact of throwing 15 thousand dollars to the garbage dump. Soon stray dogs joined the group of onlookers. Bomzhes usually threw them leavings from the containers. Dogs expectantly looked at the breadwinners, waiting for the breakfast.

There were several false alarms when somebody found the empty milk packet. It seemed to Marina that it would never end. She didn’t feel disgusting smell, didn’t see this stinking mess because tears dimmed her eyes. Mother Vera either preyed to God, or enumerated the booties: wires, stockings, battery, mincing machine, raw pear… She was afraid to miss the packet, as if it were alive and could run away. Sweta was working squatting, afraid to be seen. And only Vovka didn’t notice bad smell and slippery mess – how foolish people were to throw away so many useful things!

It was Grisha who had found their garbage bag. His heart seemed to stop when he recognized his slippers. He remembered for ever the interior of this bag because he was afraid to believe in luck: wrappers from the sweets and chewing gums, torn pages from Vovka’s diary, empty perfume flask, crumpled packet  from salt, cracked plastic jar…and finally–IT! Dear, coveted, nice – dark blue milk packet. Grisha pressed it to his heart and landed on something sharp but didn’t experience pain. He tore the packet with his teeth. Here they are – green ones. Surrounded by the raw leavings he experienced such a bliss and happiness which had never known before. These several hours separated the abyss of utter despair and the overwhelming flight of joy.

– All-clear! The operation “Garbage dump” is over!
Marina, mother-in- law, children – all rushed to the boards of their containers. Marina couldn’t believe her happiness. Her cheeks were wet with tears, there were some feathers in her hair, the coat was torn and dirty and hands in gray – brown - crimson goo.
Grisha was not wont to expose tenderness and caress, but now he embraced his wife, kissed her and said:
– Don’t cry, darling! Now everything will be all right. Let’s go home

. Swetka rushed home, like a bullit, Vovka also jumped out of the container. His pockets bulged suspiciously.

`– Grishenka, and how about me? – mother-in-law reminded about herself:Pull me out of here!
 Grisha put Marina aside and stood with his hands akimbo:

– And you, mother Vera, sit here. You have deserved this place. Soon garbage cars will come and ride you to the city dump. It will be a lesson to you.

 Mother-in-law accepted the threat literally:

– How is it?..What is going on?.. People!.. Save me!.. Militia!

Onlookers and the yard keeper came nearer. The performance continued.

– Grisha! – mother-in-law implored.– It will never happen again. Take me out of here. I‘ll give you all the money saved for the funeral.Forgive me!

– Real cinema! – the yard keeper said.

– Grisha! Stop it! – Marina demanded. – Take mother out!

– Father!– Vovka whined.– Get out granny.

But to save mother Vera was not a simple matter. Grisha pulled her standing on the stool but her enormous size wouldn’t allow him to cope with the task without help. He sent to the container one of the bomzhes who pushed mother Vera from behind.

In the evening they celebrated the event. Dealer Kostya sat on the honorable place. Grisha joked that he had found the money on the garbage dump. Friends carried him to bed. He fell asleep happy. His dream of the color “wet asphalt” stood in the yard.   




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