Who will hear the linnet?
- Куда же я денусь? У меня, кстати, есть хороший знакомый в паспортном столе твоего округа. Думаю, решим проблему.
- Ой, что бы я без тебя делала, солнышко ты мое. Вороненок, а у меня тебе сюрприз есть.
- Какой еще сюрприз?
- Вечером увидишь. Целую, мне готовиться надо. Пока.
* * *
Почтительно относясь к годам, уважительно - к месяцам и неделям, снисходительно к часам, люди совершенно не замечают минуты. И напрасно. В нашей жизни все решают именно они. В тот момент, когда обезумевшая от потери Алла Ивановна Петрова лихорадочно бегала от одной скамейки на Волжском бульваре к другой, она и не догадывалась, что всего лишь пять минут назад маленькая сумочка из натуральной кожи светло-коричневого цвета спокойно лежала на земле, никем не замеченная. Впрочем, народу на бульваре было мало, а дворник Михеев, в чьем ведении находился этот участок, выполнил свою работу задолго до того, как тогда еще абсолютно довольная жизнью Алла Ивановна трепалась на скамейке со своей подругой. Итак, пять минут назад на скамейку присел среднего роста, средних лет мужчина. Это был Михаил Прокофьевич Киреев. Он никому не мог бы объяснить, почему он пришел именно на эту скамью. Случайность - скажет кто-то. Судьба - возразит другой. Нам же только остается констатировать факт: он присел на краешек скамьи. "Сейчас отдышусь - и пойду дальше", - думал Киреев. Чувствовал он себя плохо. Во-первых, не выспался. Иван повез его в четыре утра в Богоявленск, где ему повезло - почти сразу удалось сесть на поезд, идущий в Москву. В поезде прикорнуть, разумеется, не удалось. Во-вторых, у него дико болел желудок. Вдобавок еще в дороге Киреева буквально вывернуло всего наизнанку. Наверное, топленка не пошла, решил он. Но тошнота не проходила. Тетка Лена, провожая, обещала писать. А еще попросила передать небольшой гостинчик сестре своего покойного мужа. Сестра жила на Волжском бульваре. Только что Михаил Прокофьевич выполнил поручение. Задерживаться в гостях у незнакомых людей не стал, а поспешил к ближайшей станции метро. Тошнота опять подступила к горлу, и он решил идти к метро не по улице, а бульваром, надеясь в случае повторения неприятности меньше привлекать к себе внимания. Так он оказался на скамье.
Сумочку Киреев увидел почти сразу, как только сел. Маленькая сумочка из натуральной кожи светло- коричневого цвета. Он почти инстинктивно осмотрелся по сторонам. Невдалеке прогуливалась молодая женщина с мощным ротвейлером, чуть поодаль два паренька пили пиво. И все. Никого. "А если там бомба? Дурак! В женской сумочке, да и проводов не видно. Больно много ты понимаешь в бомбах. Часовой механизм и все. А кого, простите, здесь взрывать? Меня и этого ротвейлера? Представляешь, через три дня в Москве траур - по мне и ротвейлеру". Внутри Киреева два разных "человека" завели разговор. Пока они спорили, Михаил Прокофьевич очень осторожно поднял сумочку. Он демонстративно положил сумочку на колени, чтобы ее было видно, и окликнул женщину с собакой:
"Can you tell me what time it is?"
"I don't have a watch," the woman's voice sounded coquettish. Everything is clear, one "man" reasoned, lonely.
- And what a beautiful dog you have. What is her name? Kireev continued to ask, paying no attention to the "man".
"Bertha," the owner of the dog wanted to say something else, but Bertha rushed as hard as she could, seeing a skinny black cat ahead. Together with the dog, a woman rushed after the cat, shouting: "Stop, little, stop." She did not pay any attention to the purse. "So, not her. Open it." - "And why is it so heavy? Cosmetics do not weigh that much. Now we will take off without Bertha." "It's not a shame to be a fool, it's a shame to be a coward. Open it." Kireyev opened it. The money. A lot of money. The hundred-dollar bills were neatly tied with a red elastic band. One, two, three, thirty... Multiply by one hundred. Wow! And someone's passports. Again, almost instinctively, Kireyev closed his purse and quickly walked in the direction of the subway. On the go, I began to look at passports.
Petrova Alla Ivanovna, address, year of birth. Almost the same age. Manukyan Natalia Vladimirovna, apparently, daughter. "Everything is clear, an explosive mixture: new Russians and new Armenians, money - chickens do not peck. Old man, this is a chance. You've never held that kind of money in your hands." - "It's somehow inconvenient, strangers." "But you've stopped believing in coincidences. The money came to you for a reason. Now there is enough for the operation, and for the best medicines. Here it is - a sign." "But if it's a sign, why other than the money in the bag and the passports of these women? So that I am tormented by my conscience later?" - "Stop breeding antimonies. Feel like Robin Hood. The money, I suppose, is stolen." - "And if not? And if she is raising one daughter, she has a different surname. What if she was preparing her daughter for an operation?"
- "Look at their photos - they bloom and smell. Ok. Another option: they mailed them passports and five hundred bucks. The rest of yours are commissions." - "And Liza?" - "What about Liza?" - "She needs money more than I do. I have lived after all, and she is eight years old." - "She has a father and a mother. Well good. Only the passports were given to Manukyansha, the money was divided with the Bobrovs. Feel like both Robin Hood and Santa Claus. In one bottle. Judge for yourself, who is this Lisa for you? No one. Look around, there are thousands of such children - sick, abandoned, dying. Think about yourself, Santa Claus. If you don't want to have an operation, buy a trip somewhere to Cyprus. The last time you were at the sea was ten years ago, and even then - on the Azov Sea. Live before death as a man." - "But they are strangers." - "Got it right... Do you remember that in Hašek's "The Good Soldier Švejk" it is said about one idiot who found the money and then returned it?" - "I remember". - "Draw conclusions." - "One thought came to my mind." - "I hope it's the right one? Speak." - "When, reading Arseny's notebook, I was thinking about temptation, do you remember?" - "Of course. You still thought that these were obstacles on the way. He was clever, in a word." "Exactly. How easy it is to lie in bed and talk about the difficulties of the journey." - "What are you getting at?" - "To the fact that, it seems, my path has begun. From Popovka, or rather, even from Palny. From that little church. I thought the path was clouds in the sky, a birch tree on the side of the road, a wagtail accompanying you on the way. I got tired - rested - and went on." - "Isn't that so? True, there may be clouds instead of clouds, but otherwise everything is correct." - "Not exactly. Yes, clouds. Yes, birch. And this wallet." - "Do you think it's temptation?" - "I don't know yet." - "And for what?" - "Do you remember, Elchaninov: "What multiplies spiritual strength in us? - Temptation Overcome." - "Of course, I remember. Do you remember the famous fable about one believer? Their village was destroyed by the flood. The villagers are saved, but this one refuses help: God will save me. One boat came to him, a second, a third, and he kept saying: God will save me. And drowned. And in the other world, he began to make claims to God: they say, why didn't you save me? The Lord answered him: "Who sent the three boats for you, didn't you think?" - "And what is the use of this example?" - "And all the same: did you not think that this purse was a boat sent for you? Don't laugh! You've understood more in these weeks than in your entire life. It means that the sore was sent to you in time. But you, Kira, feel that He will help you. And how to do it without drugs, without treatment, without money? You cry in front of the icon - and everything will be taken off like a hand, right?" - "Don't disperse. I'm just thinking, I'm not solving anything. I liked your comparison about a wallet and a boat. But why were there photos of these women?" - "You've already got it, old man. Since when did you become a Communist?" - "What does this have to do with it? Although, you know, there was more justice in the previous life." - "I agree. But this is a utopia when every person is happy, rich, and healthy. Understand? Utopia! Think about yourself, about yourself. Do you remember how it is written in that notebook?" - "Namely?" - "At Seraphim of Sarov. He was a holy man, so he knew that he was writing: "Save yourself and thousands around you will be saved." - "So he meant 'be saved' in another sense."
- "And even so, only without living, without existing, you can be someone for others at all? That's it."