Alexandra

                Alexandra (story)

      Narrow narrow streets of the old part of the city between old houses with front gardens, long in need of major or at least some kind of repair, Bezhan slowly headed to the right address, not being afraid of sudden movements of cars here. Climbing up the stairs, he clearly felt how he was possessed by lofty thoughts.
      “So it should be, in principle,” he thought, moving steadily along a broken path, peering into the bizarre architecture, “the closer to the sky, the clearer the thoughts. What do they do with a man of height? Different - physical, geographical, geopolitical, social?..
      Why are people so attracted to them? Is it really just to rule other people or show off in front of them? After all, the higher the height, the more painful it is to fall from it. And sometimes you have to fall.
      Pride and vanity, striving for superiority, an uncontrollable passion for possessing the best, money-grubbing, gain. All this is unpleasant to observe in others, but, alas, it is imperceptible, secretly laid in each of us.
      Bejan looked up at the sky and noticed two hawks hovering over the area in a circle, looking for prey below. Approaching the house, which he visited regularly, after a service in the church, he saw a thin man of about sixty in a fashionable gray suit.
      - Oh! Batono Murad! Hello! How are you?
      - Hello, Bezhan, - the man also greeted, - you ask how I am? There is no work, the prices for everything are crazy. They say that money does not smell, but disappears - and also that money is the face of a man, and the face is the money of a woman. And my wife and I are almost the opposite!
      - What are you doing here? Bezhan asked.
      - Yes, I'm standing here, thinking about the meaning of life. But he, too, washed away, it turns out, the concept is dynamic and over time it either smoothly or abruptly changes. Why do we live in this world? Have you ever thought?
      - I have not been interested in this, Murad, for some time now.
      - From what? Has it become painfully smart?
      - No, I just received a completely satisfactory and comprehensive answer a long time ago.
      - Yah! Where did you get these answers from and why are you sure that they are correct? Murad doubted.
      Bezhan pointed to the sky with his eyes, Murad followed him, and both froze at the sight of two soaring hawks.
      “Perhaps you are right,” Murad agreed, “all questions that arise on earth have the right answers only from heaven.” Do you think that the questions that appear in heaven do not receive answers from the earth?
      - Perhaps in part, - Bezhan muttered uncertainly, - one thing is good, when such questions are born in a person, they inevitably lead to heaven, and the most fortunate ones bother to catch the right answers. The thing is, Murad, that each person must come to the knowledge of the truth himself, through which all the doors of vital importance to him open, including the resolution of fateful questions. And when someone else talks about it, it is not always understood correctly. One thing I can tell you firmly is that all vitally important questions have had the right answers for a long time...
      - Only everyone needs to find them himself, isn't it? - Murad was ahead of him with the answer.
      “Yes,” Bejan confirmed. - Well, okay about this, Aunt Shura at home?
      - At home, where should she go!
      - Well, isn't it enough? After all, it happens that it goes to the store, then somewhere else.
      - Half an hour ago, when I was leaving the yard, I looked at her, she was at home. Come on, you'll be happy. You know how she always waits for you!
      - Yes, I'm going to, - Bezhan threw already on the move.
      - And I'll wait a little longer, - Murad explained, - maybe someone will need a car, at least I'll earn extra money.
      On the way, Bezhan grabbed hot lavash. The first thing he saw in the small courtyard was a smiling Venus and standing over a tub made of stone in its center. At the sight of him, a perplexed question froze on her face.
- I'm looking to see if it's leaking somewhere. He explained his appearance in embarrassment.
      - No, it doesn't, don't be afraid. The smile returned to her face. - Neighbors from the second floor give a full guarantee that the new sewage line will work!
      Long and prolonged calls, and then a knock on the door, received no response.
      - And you try to knock on the window, - advised the nearest neighbor, Rita, a plump woman, like Venus in her fifties, whose advice turned out to be very useful.
      - Aunt Shura, hello, - Bezhan greeted an eighty-seven-year-old old woman who appeared at the unlocked door, wrapped in woolen robes, keeping her balance with the help of an inseparable stick.
      - Hello, hello, dear! - tears of joy flashed in my blind eyes, - come in, my dear, and I already thought that today you won’t come. Aunt Shura, groaning and sighing, sank down on a chest near the entrance and with a glance pointed to the guest at a low chair opposite her.
      - You haven't been waiting, have you? How could I not come.
      “I don’t know, my dear,” Aunt Shura drawled in a creaky old voice, “she just closed the door, and before that she kept it slightly ajar for a long time. Much would  people in church today?
      - A lot, Aunt Shura, as always. Here is a hot pita bread for you, would you like to break off a crust right now? Bezhan suggested.
      - No, my dear. Go to the kitchen, put it on the table.
      - Here are candles for you, and this is a prosphora, divide it into several parts so that it lasts for several days ...
      - Thanks, darling. Put it on the table too,” Aunt Shura thanked.
      Bezhan involuntarily caught a mouse running and diving into a hole.
      - Oh, - Bezhan drawled, - Aunt Shura, it turns out you have mice running around here.
      - I know, what can I do? she complained.
      - You need to get a cat ... or borrow her cats from Aunt Rita.
      - Rita's daughter Masha, a good girl, but what, she doesn't live with her mother now?
      - No-no! - drawled Aunt Shura. - She's married to us.
      - Second time?
      - Yes, she has a son, Romka, from her first marriage. She says that the characters did not agree with her first husband.
      - Well, God forbid, that at least now you are lucky, you can make a mistake once, it seems, Leo Tolstoy said, - Bezhan remembered.
      - She is a good girl, still young, some thirty years old, her whole life is still ahead of her. And her mother Ritka will look after Romka, and he himself is no longer small, fourteen years old. It's easier than messing around with a baby.
    - And what about your upstairs neighbors, on the second floor?
      - Uh, Aunt Shura drawled, - They do their job, but they don't give a damn about others. You are a witness, Bezhan, how much I begged them not to put the bathroom and toilet on the attached balcony. No matter how I begged them, and cried, and asked, and threatened to complain, they still acted in their own way, but what can I do with them? I am alone, and there are so many of them in the family. If my son, Valerik, were alive, he would talk to them for me. And now they know that I am single, and that they can do with me as they please. That's what they do!
      - Well, why are you like this, Aunt Shura, you are not alone, - Bezhan explained, - you have a younger sister - Tatyana and a niece - Valentina.
      - Uh, - Aunt Shura drawled again, lightly tapping the wooden floor with a stick. They themselves are sick, and they themselves need care. By the way, was Valya at church today?
      - No, - without hesitation, Bezhan lied.
      - And when it happens, it doesn't always come either. The neighbors told me that he was passing by calmly, but he wouldn’t come to me. I'm old and no one needs me anymore.
- Well, why, Aunt Shura? Do not tell a lie, - Bezhan opposed her, - I myself am a witness how she worries and asks about you, and visits from time to time.
    “Yes, of course, she is so attentive and kind, but apparently I can’t visit more often,” Aunt Shura did not argue with the guest. - But Zoya, a neighbor from the second floor, is watching me, she will bring hot borscht or soup, then porridge, she brings a pension to the house. He does everything I ask. Well, how then to spoil relations with her because of the balcony and because of this ill-fated sewer?
      “She sold herself to them for a plate of borscht,” Bezhan recalled Valya’s remark about Aunt Shura’s upstairs neighbors, “she herself allowed them to stretch such a long balcony over her head, and now she wants me to deal with them.”
      - They blocked the sunlight with this balcony of theirs. What should I do, since they don’t understand human language, and I can’t swear with them. He does not allow me, - Aunt Shura pointed to the icon of the Savior. - I never quarreled with anyone in the yard and always tried to do only good to everyone. For this I was loved, both at home and at work.
      - Yes, you are a happy person, aunt Shura. This is not possible for everyone.
        Suddenly, a fluffy gray Siamese cat rushed past the conversationalists and jumped out through the ajar door to the yard.
      - Maksimka! Look, you dragged the valerian again?! - Aunt Shura was alarmed.
      - How, such a sin is observed behind him?
      - As soon as he smells the smell of valerian, he rushes to me after her.
      - Can you smell valerian, but no mice? Bejan was surprised. - An unfortunate drug addict, he hunts for valerian!
     - Shura did you have valerian in tablets? Rita asked from behind the door.
      - There was, - Aunt Shura confirmed, - I just received it just now and left it on the table, forgot to put it in the sideboard.
      - So here it is, your valerian, take it! - the neighbor handed the vial to Aunt Shura, barely holding back her laughter.
      - Shura, how did your Bezhanchik come, did you ask me about him today?! - asked Murad, sticking his head into the gap of the door.
      - Oh, Muradka, you're just in time! - Aunt Shura was delighted. - Come in, please, I want to ask you and Bezhan to install the refrigerator evenly, otherwise it collapses with me and the door does not close.
      Murad readily responded to the request, and soon he and Bezhan were moving the refrigerator from side to side.
      - Look, Bezhan, what's going on with the floor! Murad pointed to the gaping holes in the floor.
      - That's where the mice come from! Bejan exclaimed.
      - In such holes and an elephant, probably, will squeeze through!
      Straining, quarreling with the scurrying and interfering Aunt Shura  the men pushed the refrigerator away and, having covered the holes in the floor with pieces of tin, after several unsuccessful attempts, installed it in its original place and tightly closed the door.
      - Oh, my golden ones, - Shura exclaimed with joy, - how grateful I am to you! - and, rushing to put its contents in the refrigerator, doused her feet with borscht.
      - Shura, get away from the refrigerator, - Murad roared, - where are you in a hurry, can't we do it ourselves?
      - Stop it now! Bejan demanded. "Aren't you ashamed to yell at her like that!"
      - No need to quarrel, Bezhan, I'm not offended, thanks to him for helping to install the refrigerator!
      - Shurochka, you are my dear, you know that I am not from evil! Murad laughed.
      "Wow love?" Bejan thought.
      - OK! Let's go home, - his wife Venus came for Murad.
      “That freak Muradka,” Shura smiled after him. - What is true is true, the neighbors in my yard are all wonderful.
      - Painfully motley people, Aunt Shura, - Bezhan remarked, - both in age, and in mind, and in mood.
      - Oh! Yes, - Aunt Shura agreed, - in our small yard you will find people of all ages, from babies to very old people, and of many nationalities.
      - Do not tell me that you are the oldest here?
      - No, the oldest Lamar, we recently celebrated her anniversary, ninety years old! Then I go, then Marusya, she is eighty-five. The poor thing had a stroke a few years ago and can't get up now.
      - Who's looking after her? Bezhan asked.
      - Son Merab comes to her, and so the woman is assigned, - Aunt Shura explained.
      Having measured Aunt Shura's blood pressure and pulse, Bezhan got ready until the next Sunday.
      With the onset of winter, the question of heating arose sharply. They were heated in different ways, as best they could. Some with gas, some with electricity, some with wood, some with kerosene. And only in a few places could one find remnants of the past, preserved in the working position of the boiler house, the central heating system. The cheapest thing was to heat with gas, although it claimed the lives of many citizens due to the misuse of gas heating systems. Handicraft stoves, low-quality fuel were merciless to freezing people ...
    
      One February morning, fire trucks, accustomed to the increasing calls, rushed through the streets of the city at high speed, with the roar of sirens and flashing lights.
      - Here, here, quickly! A woman is on fire, - the voice of a woman from the crowd in the yard met the brigade no less sharp than a siren.
      - Leave, Rita, late! Poor Marusya can't be saved! She probably burned down a long time ago, - Shura restrained her with tears.
      “Wait, Shura, we'll try anyway,” Rita shouted, dragging several firefighters deep into the yard with her.
      - Quickly deploy the system and supply water! commanded the brigadier. Two, follow me!
      The other three, in fireproof jackets, rushed up the stairs to the second floor.
      All the arriving crowd anxiously awaited their return.
      The fire approached the lying patient closer and closer. Murad prudently broke the glass of the veranda with a stone and air began to flow into the burning room.
      Opening the door to the veranda with a stick, the sick woman got up in fright, but immediately fell down and was now crawling through the fire to the windows. She was already out of breath and could not muster the strength to call for help. Ceiling beams kept falling and blocking her way. Three firefighters sent to her aid were dragging their foreman by the arms and legs, who had fallen under a burning beam.
      Soon water came from the hoses. The fight against the elements lasted more than half an hour. The completely charred body of Marusya was carried out into the yard.
      Neighbors screamed, clasped their hands, sobbed.
      - Aunt Shura, are you alive? Didn't get hurt? - her niece Valentina, who had come running from work, asked in fright.
      “I’m alive, but poor Marusya burned down,” Aunt Shura responded, choking through her tears.
      Several nearby houses were flooded with water, and they were then restored for several months.
      With the death of a beloved neighbor, much has changed in the minds of the survivors. At night they could not sleep for a long time, tormented by the terrible pictures that rose before their eyes.
      - How did this happen, Aunt Shura? - Bezhan, who visited her once again, was horrified.
      “They still don’t really know, either from rotten wiring, or from a gas explosion,” suggested Aunt Shura, whose apartment, only by a lucky chance, was not damaged by either fire or water.
      “The fire wouldn’t have reached me anyway, but it would, so it would have stopped it,” she wiped away a tear, remembering her dead son, “Alexander.
      - What happened to him? Bezhan asked.
      - As soon as the transitional time began, if it were not all right, and his wife and parents moved to live in Russia, he did not go, he said that he would not leave his mother alone. Nevertheless, he became sad, depressed, fell before my eyes, began to drink, then to wander, made some dubious friends for himself and even brought them home. I scolded him for it, kicked his friends out of the house, I couldn't  watch them drink and ruin my son. I did lose him. He promised that he would not leave his mother alone, but he did anyway, - Aunt Shura burst into tears.
       - Let's pray for him.
      - I pray all the time, - Alexandra wiped her tears, - she lost her peace from the fact that she had not been at his grave for a long time. Would you take me there, Bezhan!
      - I would love to, but how can I get you there on such a steep slope! I'm afraid, Aunt Shura!
- So they would bury me next to my son.
- Okay you! It's expensive, - Bezhan smiled. - So live long until your pension is added.
“And it’s really a long wait, I definitely won’t live that long.”
- Why, Aunt Shura, are you cursing us?
- I don't curse, but I know when...
- Aunt Shura, hello, I came for you, get ready and go to us, - the cold voice of her unexpectedly appeared niece suddenly rang out.
      - No, no, what are you! To whom will I leave my house, - Aunt Shura objected.
      - Yes, who needs your cracked wreck! Come, spend the winter with us, and then back home. We are warm, cozy, and it will be easier for me!
      - No, no, I can't...
       - Complain that you are cold, hungry, bored ... I call you to my place, do not go! But it’s a pity for me too, to run between you, sisters, besides, I also have my own affairs and work, -
      futile persuasion continued for a long time.
      - Well, well, it's up to you! - threw in parting excited Valentine.
      “You shouldn’t have been so harsh with her,” suggested Bezhan, escorting her to the fork.
      - Well, what to do, Bezhan, when she is so stubborn!


The next day. Bejan brought several flowering branches from fruit trees:
      - Look, Aunt Shura, what a beauty!
      Putting twigs in a jar of water, Bezhan suddenly exclaimed in surprise:
      - Wow! Who is this and where did it come from?
      - Yes, he came! - Aunt Shura threw a glance at the white-brown lump crouching on the couch behind the mutak. - Let him stay with me, it's more fun with him!
  - Nice cat. Wow, how sparkling eyes!
      - I called Nazibrola, a delicate lens. But strangely, he does not eat anything but bread and water. I do not know what to do…
      - You need to ask Vali.
       - Valya was going to go to Russia. Prepares documents, passport and visa. Didn't she tell you about it?
       - She said for a long time that she would like to, but did not specifically specify. You will need to go and find out.
       - It's time to appear Nazibrole - Bezhan noticed.
       - Yes, all the time she is next to me, on the couch. And the mice no longer swarm! Such a sensitive, attentive, looking into my eyes, trying to please. It settles at my feet and purrs.
      - This is very good! She takes away negative energy from you, - Bezhan explained, - they say, where there is a cat, there is no need for a doctor.
      - What is there! Right now I'm having problems with my left eye.
       - Wah! I'll take you to the clinic sometime.
       - No, where do I go so far! Let, - she waved her hand, - one eye sees, and thanks for that!
      “Well, how is it possible, an ophthalmologist’s consultation is still needed,” Bezhan insisted.
      - I have a doctor, Venus, and that's enough. And he monitors my pressure, soldering it with nootropil and cynarizine.
      - Aunt Shura, do you have something to eat?
      - Yes thank you! I ask in prayers to give me my daily bread, and he gives, my merciful one. When there is bread, I am not hungry, I thank Him and, before eating, I kiss.
      - Just like Nazibrola, - Bezhan laughed. - Well, okay, since you don't need anything else, I'll go to yours.
       - Hello, Valya, - Bezhan greeted Aunt Shura's niece a few minutes later, - how are you?
- Well, how ... today the doctor came again, the fluid was taken out of the lungs, - Valya said almost in a whisper, about her mother, - she is now weakened in the room.
      - I heard you were going to leave for Russia?
      - Yes I want to. Here I will straighten out the documents, I will go to my grandchildren, and then to my son.
       - How is he?
      - He doesn’t work, he drinks, he needs to be saved somehow, which one is none, and he is the only one I have.
      - Yeah, that's what failure in love does to men ...
      - Hey, leave it! I told him, don't come back to her, - she wiped away a tear.
       - It was probably not worth it last time to bring it with you from Russia, - suggested Bezhan.
       - Well, how was it to stay there without a passport? True, here, too, everything did not turn out the way we wanted: there was no work, my friends were so-so. Maybe I'll take it here...
      - Again?! Leave this idea, you see, he is not going well here. It's hard for everyone here to get a normal job. Don't you have enough nerves?
       - So what to do? Don't disappear for him.
      - Aunt Shura has some problems with her left eye, it will be necessary to bring a doctor to her, - Bezhan remembered.
      - Oh, these are her problems! I tell her, she doesn't listen. Do you know what she does? He drinks nootropil in the morning and drinks it with large cups of coffee. Would you talk to her...
       Having finished his glass of Hibiscus tea, Bezhan said goodbye to Valya. He walked down the street past a long row of garages and enjoyed the freshness of the awakening nature. There are piles along the house  heaps of rubbish piled up, and he was reminded of the hot, but not having brought the slightest result, appeals, speeches and manifestations of the greens.
       The intoxicating aroma of the Brazilian instant coffee PELE, in addition to increasing blood pressure, also invigorated, uplifted the spirit, refreshed, gave strength necessary to move and overcome loneliness. Alexandra was inhaling the fumes and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee when she heard a knock at the front door.
      - Aunt Shura, is your bell not working? Bezhan's cheerful voice rang out.
      “Oh, he did come, and I already thought he quarreled with my sister,” Aunt Shura burst into tears.
      - What happened, Aunt Shura? Bezhan asked.
      - She told me everything, - Aunt Shura did not have time to wipe her tears, - she said that even her husband had never yelled at her like Bezhan. In addition, he also beat on the table and pounded with his fist.
      - Ah, - thought Bezhan, - why did you have to talk about it? We would take care of everything...
      - I don't know, I don't know, she's very offended!
      - And they carry water on the offended!
      - But what happened anyway?
      - Last Sunday after you I went to her. She had an old friend of hers. They were talking so sweetly that she was not up to me. And on Monday evening she calls me and tells me that Valya from Russia asked me to pay for the phone. I tried to clarify about the receipts, there was an argument about cash. She got offended and said she didn't want anything from me. Having abandoned all my business, I rushed from the other side of the city to their telephone exchange, there I settled all the formalities, paid out of my own, and in the evening put the paid receipt on her table. However, she continued to grumble.
      I may have raised my voice a little, but I didn't scream. Just talking loudly, like with you and my father, because you can't hear well.
      - Forgive her, old and sick ...
      - You are also sick, but I never hear reproaches from you. When I leave the church, every time I go to you, and then to her. Do you think I need it? Of course, I am upset that she has forgotten the kindness that I did for her for six whole years in a row!
      - Do not say that! - Aunt Shura was alarmed, - everything that we do, we do for Him. So don't worry, Bezhan, when Valya comes, she will judge you.
           - Of course, you have your own affairs, your own problems - and I pray for you. It’s no joke, you still haven’t managed to complete your life, but you run after others and help.
      - Shura, I brought you a hot fish soup, - the neighbor who ran in was pleased.
      - Oh, thank you, Zoya!
      - Where does she get sturgeon in such a difficult time? Bejan was surprised.
      - And she buys scraps in the market. Delicious, healthy, nutritious and, most importantly, cheap!
      - Yes, Aunt Shura, it's great here, as I see it, they settled down!
      - Shura, today is the last day of Shrove Tuesday, so try hot pancakes, - another neighbor, Rita, wrapped up.
      - Aunt Shura, here are the medicines I brought you, which I promised, - Venus also came in.
      - Shura, how are you, still alive? So the day before yesterday I scared, - with a noise he tumbled in after his wife and Murad.
      - Thank you, Muradik, - Aunt Shura was delighted, - thank you, golden one, you are my savior.
      What did he save you from? Bezhan asked.
      How has she not told you yet? Murad was surprised. - She felt bad with her heart, didn’t get through to the ambulance, called the fire brigade, and the guys contacted a special cardiological help service. So a fire truck rolled along with them, followed by a patrol. What was there!
      Aunt Shura nodded in agreement and sipped something from a cup.
      - What are you drinking, Shura? Murad was worried.
      - Coffee
      So the doctor told you not to. Wait, Shura, I'll bring some of what you can! - Murad went to the front door.
      Soon, almost the entire yard gathered at the table, from young to old. The oldest inhabitant of the yard, ninety-year-old, long and skinny Lamara, hobbled along as well.
      - This is your Nazibrole food. By the way, where is she?
      - She is shy, wild, afraid of people. So she rushed into the yard.
      Suren entered, Aunt Shura's closest neighbor on the floor. - Hey, Murad jan, we have been living together for many years. Everything was true, but still, you see, you can’t spill water on us. Well, how not to drink for it!
      They clinked glasses, unanimously praised Murad's wine. Raised a toast to Alexandra.
      They sang the song, got emotional, remembered the global problems of the world and their own troubles. They were especially perplexed about the cash registers with which they threatened to furnish all market traders.
      Shura nodded to everyone. Bezhan, like a person from the outside, secretly looked at the faces, and found that the face of Aunt Shura was the most beautiful. “Love for people makes a person not only happy, but also beautiful.”



      A string of hot days of a sultry summer scattered the townspeople to various saving places, some on the sea, some in the mountains, some outside the city, and some were content with relatively cool corners in the city itself. Those who remained actively used air conditioners, fans, soft drinks, which were cheap at that time.  years of melons and watermelons.
Embracing one of these watermelons, Bezhan walked to Aunt Shura.
Near the house I spotted the plaintively meowing Nazibrola.
      - What a little, what happened? Did she really quarrel with Aunt Shura?
      - Yes, Aunt Shura already confirmed his assumption, - you have to clean up after her more and more often, and already you need to look after yourself.
      Shura, thanking for the watermelon, persuaded Bezhan to reconcile with her sister and niece.
      - How can I do this, Aunt Shura, if Valya does not even want to listen to me?
      - By God, I did not expect. What does she say?
      She says she doesn't want to hear anything. She has problems up to her throat. And I have enough of them, and more than once I listened to her for hours, as her son argued with her mother!
      We Orthodox must listen and hear each other, and the Lord God will hear us for this.
      During the conversation, now and then the neighbors ran in, brought something, inquired about something.
    

      The trees were slowly shedding their summer attire. Golden autumn, painted everything around in its soft color. Alexandra loved this season more than anyone else. Now, on a warm autumn evening, with purchases in one hand and with an inseparable wooden cane in the other, she slowly walked up the street along which she had walked for almost ninety years. She remembered her parents, her husband, who died early, and her son. She hunched over, moved heavily, wondering bitterly if this was her last shopping trip. Especially heavy were the thoughts of the son. An elastic lump persistently approached the throat. She stumbled, could not keep her balance, leaned forward, dropped her stick in turn, and then her bag, the contents of which rolled down the slope.
      “Son, Valerik, help!” she managed to scream before falling and losing consciousness.
      - Don't be afraid, mom, I'm here with you! She woke up, hearing his voice distinctly.
      - Is it really you? - in dismay she asked a young strong man who was lifting her up.
      - Well, of course I am, mom! Who else? - the voice sounded more and more recognizable.
      “But you died a long time ago,” tears flowed from Alexandra's eyes.
      - I'm not dead, mom. Don't cry, he wiped her tears.
      Mother, not believing her eyes, felt him. She felt no pain from the fall, no heaviness in her legs, no prickling in her side, she got up amazingly easily and moved quickly next to her companion. She excitedly talked about the difficulties in his absence, and he shared with her what he experienced and experienced himself.
       Valera walked around the house, spotted some problems, knocked out the leg of the bed, fixed the mirror on the wall, straightened the skewed closet door, adjusted the TV, filled the cracks and holes in the floor and walls with cement mortar, redid a lot of small things, and by the evening he asked for some money and some of his documents.
      His mother, beaming with happiness, washed and dried his clothes and hung them on a chair. Having dealt with the chores, she went to bed only in the morning. And already half asleep she again heard the voice of her son:
      - Mom, I'm leaving for a little while on business.
      "Don't go," she groaned, falling deeper into sleep. In the afternoon she was awakened by a loud knock on the door.
      Shura, are you alive? - frightened Murad burst in. - We're worried about you.
      - Live, live! Come on!
      - Is that your stick?
      - My, where did you get it?
      - Where you dropped it last night! It's good that no one picked it up, otherwise you know what time it is now, and here is your bag and purchases. I collected it in the morning. What happened to you?
     You know, I haven't been out for a long time. And my son brought me home yesterday.
      - What son? What happened to you? From the other world, right?
      - And stayed with me until the morning ...
      - Aunt Shura, what's wrong with you? We couldn't find a place! Venus, alarmed, came running.
      "Look at the wound on her forehead!" And hurt! Process them, and I went on business, - Murad instructed Shura to his wife.
      “This is a shift, right? dear Murad wondered. “That hasn’t been enough yet.”
      When he returned, he found Alexandra with a bandaged head, surrounded by neighbors, whom she convinced that her son had spent the night with her yesterday.
      Soon the whole yard was whispering about whether Aunt Shura's roof had gone. Valentina also appeared, with difficulty and for a short while convincing her aunt that she had taken Bezhan for her son.
      “They think I've lost my mind,” Shura turned to the photograph of her son when she was left alone. And who redid so many things for me yesterday?
      The neighbors agreed on a common opinion, gradually began to shun her and avoid long conversations. Bejan tried to make her promise that she would not resume the conversation about her son in the future.
      But no persuasion and persuasion worked, she stubbornly stood her ground, even when formally, she agreed with the versions of relatives and neighbors. She did not agree to move for a while to her niece and sister.



     A real winter with snow covers on the mountains ringing the city cast cold on it, although it had not really penetrated into it yet. But, one way or another, he was already living in winter mode. The cold was felt everywhere, in the houses, on the streets, in the people themselves.
      Bezhan  stop  in the street was a tall, thin man in his sixties.
      - Hello, buddy, where are you in such a hurry?
      - Yes, right here nearby, to one old woman, Aunt Shura, if you know one!
      "So who doesn't know her here?" And who are you to her?
      - Yes, no one, just a friend!
      - So, just an acquaintance? Well, do you know me?
      - No, - Bezhan hesitated.
      - Ha-ha-ha! You see, he doesn't know me! Every dog around knows, and you blundered something. I, therefore, have known you for a long time, but you do not know me! Don't say it's the first time you see it!
      - Excuse me, yes, - Bezhan tried to laugh it off.
      - What are you, boy, really crazy? Open your eyes and take a closer look. I'm a Behemoth.
      Bejan stood silently, discouraged and bewildered.
      - What will you drink? - the interlocutor asked sternly.
      - But I don't drink at all, I have an ulcer, - fortunately Bezhan recalled his illness healed a year ago.
      The man threw a menacing look at Bezhan, but suddenly he suddenly moderated his ardor, extended his hand for a handshake and even kissed his cheek.
      "I'm sorry mate, I didn't know," he apologized. - If someone bothers you, tell me that you know me, understand?
      - Understood thanks! - Bezhan thanked and hastened almost to run away.
      - Aunt Shura, what kind of hippos are wound up in your district? - he soon asked, retelling the details of a recent meeting.
      - And who knows, we now have so many of them, and not only here. People became brutalized, and naturally, animal nicknames were used.
      - Have animals, like your Nazibrola, been called human names? both laughed.
      How are your mice doing?
      - The best. So I bought myself potatoes as much as a hundred kilograms, for myself and, it seems, for them.
      - Oh, - Bezhan drawled, - be careful, Aunt Shura, it's very dangerous. I remember. one of my employees died a long time ago from hepatitis of the liver, caused by an infection from mouse secretions. The then medicine could not help him.
      - I'm not afraid. I have spent my whole life with rats, both at work, during and after the war, and at home. So my body has long since developed an antidote. Another thing is what they eat. Well, to hell with them, how much will they eat?
      - Shura, - please sell me thirty kilograms of potatoes, - asked Murad, who suddenly appeared at the door, - why do you need so many?
      - What do you mean why? Aunt Shura was surprised. - Ahead of a long winter and the beginning of spring, when there will be nothing to eat. Besides, I didn't just buy it for myself, did I?
      - And for whom else? Rats to fatten and distribute throughout the yard? Yes, I will complain about you!
      - Let me know for whom! For me and for my son, who promised to return.
      - Ay! .. - Murad drawled, turning his eyes to Bezhan. - Again, she rushed to the wrong steppe. Well, okay, Shura, with me on this topic ... Talk better with Bezhan, and I ran. We'll still have to drag the potatoes from the market. - Well, okay, come on, - Murad said goodbye, closing the door behind him.
      - Oh, my head hurts again, - Shura complained, - Bezhan, son, please measure my blood pressure.
      - You see, increased and rapid pulse ... where is our beloved korvalolchik?
      - Thank you, my golden ... It's all because of these gas workers. They came to demand full payment. And where do I get so much money at once?
      - As? What about benefits?
      - Valentina, apparently, did not hand over the documents, otherwise I would not have had problems.
      - You have to wait until the benefits are credited to your account. Until then, you don't have to pay anything.
      - How not to? And suddenly cut! The guys said they didn't want to lose their jobs because of me. And the official request was left. Here!
      - Don't cut anything! Do not open to them, ask the neighbors to intercede.
      It turned out that this year Bezhan found Shura at home for the last time.
      - She called her and asked her to pick up - Rita told him. - The cold pestered her, and her bronchitis became very aggravated. Yes, and collectors scared. So Valentina took her away in a taxi, and apparently she will stay with them until the end of winter.
      “Yes, hardly. She loves her house very much,” Bezhan doubted, slowly descending into the city center. And he turned out to be right.


  Shura returned a month and a half later, with the onset of the very first warm days.
      - There are two patients without me, and the son can show up here. Every now and then I see him in my dreams.
      “I always tell you that you can’t believe in dreams,” Bezhan reminded.
      - He is here, he will come back, he will definitely come! He promised, he had been a man of his word all his life.
      - Oh, again the poor thing brings! - noted in an undertone, jumping into the light Murad. - Shura, stop assuring that you have a son, enough of this nonsense! Understood?
      - Well, how? If you don’t believe me, move the refrigerator away and you will see that all the cracks and holes that you and Bezhan covered with tin are filled and filled with cement mortar.
      - Yes, but for this this type, some rogue, or a bum, money from you.
      Don't talk about my son like that! He always found a way out of the most difficult  these provisions!
      - Now I found it! Cleverly settled down with you for the night. He ate, slept off, stole your son's money and documents from the box, dressed up in everything clean and was like that!
      - It's not true, he didn't steal my money! He asked, and I gave it to him myself, - Shura clarified.
       - Well, you are naive and stubborn. You do not believe what your loved ones say, and you believe God knows whom. Or maybe it was a runaway criminal who was looking for somewhere to hide, and then you turned up!
      - No, no, - Shura hesitated a little, but immediately regained confidence. “And his voice, his face, his eyes, finally… No, a mother’s heart is not mistaken,” she burst into tears.
      - As you want. Blessed believer, - Murad got up and closed the door behind him.
      Bezhan's consolations did not have the desired effect, and Shura spent the rest of the day in tears, praying for a long time, sorting through old family photographs.
      Before going to bed, she fervently called out to the icons of the Savior and the Most Holy Mother of God, and lit lampadas and candles in front of them. I felt for a moment that my heart was about to break out of my chest and shoot up. But then she realized that what was supposed to happen to her heart happened to her spirit. She heard a voice assuring her that her son would return, that he would come, that he could not but come, and, peaceful, she fell into a dream.
      - Mom, I promised you that I would return, don't you believe me?
      She saw and heard him in her dream for a long time. She believed these words, but was also surprised how it could happen that her son was buried on a high hillock of the city cemetery, where she could not get for so long, although she asked many of her relatives about it.
      "Come back, my son," she pleaded. - Nobody believes me and everyone thinks that I'm crazy ...
      - Don't listen to them, mom! Let them think. The main thing is that you believe, hope and wait. Have a little more patience, and you'll see ... Only we both need to take into account past mistakes, and everything will start again, - her son's voice comforted and lulled her.
      All the following days she pondered over the words she heard, tried to fulfill the wishes of the voice. In order to get moral support for this, to replenish spiritual and physical strength, she asked Bezhan to take her to church, confessed and partook of the holy sacraments.
      The priest, before proceeding to confession, asked her name.
      - Alexandra! - it sounded hollowly under the dome, and then for a long time, it echoed in the ears. - Alexandra Alexandrovna ...
      In the early morning of International Women's Day, she was awakened by a cautious but repetitive knocking. She hurried to the door.
      Who could it be this early?
      Opening the door, I was surprised to see a tall young woman in a coat and fur hat.
      - Who do you want?
      - Alexandra Alexandrovna, - the stranger smiled.
      - It's me, - Shura whispered in confusion, - and who are you?
      “Hello, mother,” the stranger’s face flared up with joy, but immediately tears rolled from her eyes, which she caught and wiped away with her hand.
- You didn't recognize me? Valerik, come here, son, - she called the child, who played with the kittens of Rita's neighbor, drew her to her, gently hugged her shoulders.
      Shura peered at the child and, in turn, burst into tears: before her stood her son, but not yet grown up, about thirteen years old.
      - Really you, Zina?
      - Yes, and this is Valerik, your grandson. Valery always, and even in my current dreams, insisted that my son and I return here, home, to his origins. While my parents were alive, I abstained, especially since it was restless here too, God knows what was going on. I have now made up my mind and here we are...
      - But why didn't you tell me that I had a grandson?
      - Valery knew, I wrote to him.
      - Did you know? Didn't you tell me? But why? Shura wondered.
      - Apparently, because I could neither go to us, nor leave you here alone, and I could not leave my parents, because I also had their only daughter.
      - It is clear why Valery drank so much.
      - Let's talk about the good. Our family is reunited. There are three of us now, unless, of course, you refuse to receive us ...
      - What you? How can I refuse it? Shura was horrified. She suddenly felt a surge of strength and energy. - I may not die of this joy, and we will live together for a long time and raise my dear grandson. We have a lot to tell about the years we lived far from each other. May everyone be rewarded according to his faith, - she remembered the words of the Savior. - So, my daughter, let's offer together a prayer of gratitude to the Creator for uniting us.
      - Shura, help me, Venus is beating me, - Murad's cries were suddenly heard from the yard.
      - Be back soon! - Shura answered them. - Well, here, wait for me, - she drew her grandson and daughter-in-law into the rooms. - Now I will bring them, dear to me .. or rather, now to us .. people.