PART ONE …<\/p>\n
She was not yet eighteen years old, and life always seemed kind, fabulously beautiful and at any moment, as long as you can think of it, it can give you everything good and joyful that is in the world! Their family was the most famous in the district, and her parents believed that their daughter should not limit her education to the regular school curriculum, like many of her peers. They decided that she needed extra classes in history, music, and science. Bagila didn\u2019t resist this, especially since her teachers in school tirelessly praised her knowledge. After leaving school, her father carved out a few days vacation, and personally took his daughter to Almaty. Bagila rarely saw her father, Karatai. He left early, showed up at the door at midnight. He didn\u2019t talk to the kids very often. Even when he arrived at twelve o\u2019clock, he immediately sat down and went on to his phone, as if people were only waiting for his call at night, he would begin to give instructions, sharply explain things, scolding… Bagila lay in her room and listened to what, and how her father said things, and was sincerely surprised. When does he rest? Sometimes she felt sorry for her father to the point of tears, especially when, through the crack of a half-closed door, she saw how he, having quarrelled with some unknown person, threw down the phone and with trembling hands, accepted a crystal glass from her mother, with Valocordin, cloudy white in the water. He calmed down slowly, sat in his armchair, ruffled and then closed his eyes, like a sick bird. And having calmed down, he grabbed the phone and asked for an apartment of the director of some distant state farm; the clock at that minute was already counting the first hour of the new day. And so, she would fall asleep under the official conversations of her father. She studied in the first shift. In the morning, in the beginning of the 7th, Bagila found out that her father\u2019s bed was empty, and the unfinished tea in his cup was barely warm… As if feeling guilty in front of his daughter, her father would often send a car that took her to school. All this was familiar, normal, she did not even allow the thought that life could be different. Only with age, or rather, in her most recent years, Bagila began to seriously understand that her father\u2019s work was hellishly hard, that he worked with wear and tear, not thinking about himself, she understood that their family wealth, parental generosity, unchanged in relation to her, are all connected with her father, who always, as far as she could remember, did not know rest, day or night. When they settled into a soft compartment of the branded \u201cKazakhstan\u201d train, a lean, tall young man of about thirty years entered with them, he had a huge armful of newspapers and magazines, as if he had bought the entire contents of the kiosk standing on the platform. It seemed to her that he greeted them coldly, deliberately. Bagila gave a short nod in response and again began to look out the window at the platform with a smile, where her mother, brother, two sisters and several friends were standing to see her off. Bagila\u2019s father not only did not respond to the stranger\u2019s mean greeting, but he was also genuinely surprised at his presence in the compartment and stared into the guy\u2019s face for several seconds, then pointedly asked in bewilderment: \u201cIs your seat here?!\u201d in such a tone, as if the stranger was not worthy even to stand next to him. The young man, with his former cold calmness, laid out newspapers and magazines on a small table, pushing Bagila at the same time, and answered with a caustic smile: \u201cYes, my seat is here, right where you\u2019re sitting.\u201d His direct cold gaze was so sharp that it seemed to pierce through the interlocutor. For a brief moment, Karatai was crushed by some frightening inner strength of the stranger, but then, after quickly pulling himself together, he assumed the posture of a dominant person with indifferent calmness and went out into the corridor. \u201cIf I\u2019m not mistaken, that\u2019s your father,\u201d the guy suddenly spoke, and without looking at Bagila, he continued to leaf through the newspapers. \u201cI just want to understand, is he taking you to school? He seems like one of those people who strive to ensure that their daughter enters a university at any cost, I can tell just by looking at him. Undoubtedly, it seems that he did not like me very much.\u201d The man\u2019s tone touched Bagila, she almost exploded with indignation and began to bite her lips. But the guy was imperturbable and still sat, buried in his newspapers. Bagila was not accustomed to such neglect and was even taken aback by her own resentment and indignation, not knowing how to behave further with this terrible person. More than anything in the world, she wanted her father to return as soon as possible and save her from this painful state, so that he would take her away from this rude man, whose look and words were angrier than dry thorns. As if guessing the thoughts of his daughter and hurrying to protect her from trouble, her father entered the compartment. He was not alone. Behind him was one of the leaders of the district who had come to see him off, the head of the station, the foreman of the train, and some other people. Seeing a calm, self-confident father, hearing his low, sedate voice, Bagila was so delighted, as if she had escaped from the encirclement of enemies and found herself in an impregnable fortress. Never before had she loved her father so much, and never has she been so grateful to him and proud of him, as she was now. The people who arrived with her father made a thousand apologies; they asked the young man to move to another compartment. The man\u2019s swarthy face turned white with anger. Karatai seemed pleased. The guy pointedly looked at Karatai\u2019s retinue, who were pushing him from all sides. Karatai saw that he had driven his zealous fellow traveller into a corner, he saw that fury and despair were seething in his eyes. Bagila gloatingly watched the stranger suffer. \u201cThat\u2019s what you get, now you know what happens if you mess with us again!\u201d The guy lowered his eyes, and the retinue fell silent, believing that he would take the suitcase and leave. But he did not think to rush. At this time, the red-haired head of the station, pretty frightened by all this commotion, Karatai\u2019s bad mood and the fact that the truth was on the side of the rebellious young man, seized a second and whispered something in the man\u2019s ear. The stranger didn\u2019t even raise an eyebrow. Seeing that words had no effect on him, the head of the station was truly frightened. Curving in some strange, unpleasant bow, he whispered to him once more. Bagila caught a humiliating plea in the whisper. The stranger slowly stood up. Slowly began to collect his newspapers and things. Then he looked around at everyone in turn, as if he were standing in front of columns, not people. \u201cWhatever… I feel sorry for your subordinates… And you too,\u201d he said quietly but distinctly to Karatai and moved through the retinue, behind the head of the station. Karatai sank heavily onto his seat. There was no triumph on his face, not even satisfaction. On the contrary, Bagila understood this, he painfully worried about the words of the random man. When the man was leaving the compartment, Bagila finally got a good look at him. As long as he took the suitcase with him, the girl wanted him to disappear quickly, and then, as if a beam of light fell on an ice floe frozen in her soul, she looked at him with pity. And again, she looked into his eyes, in the expression of his face, in his entire posture, the painful pride, the eternal fear of being hurt and offended, and Bagila experienced surprise and compassion for the stranger at the same time. The train started moving. Only now Bagila noticed that there were a lot of people who were seeing off her father. She knew everyone too, but it was somehow embarrassing to see them together on the station platform, at the same time, as if on command, they were waving to one person her father. \u201cDad, are you tired?\u201d Bagila asked, unable to endure the heavy silence that arose in the compartment after the man left. The father looked at his daughter with a smile, as if he wanted to say: \u201cDon\u2019t worry about that nonsense!\u201d and shook his head negatively, but his eyes were sad. An attendant came and changed Karatai\u2019s bed again. When the attendant took hold of the pillowcase, a sheet of paper was found underneath. One side of it was completely written on. The guide tossed the sheet onto the table, as if making it clear that at the moment there was nothing more important than changing the pillowcase. Karatai didn\u2019t see any importance in the fact that someone\u2019s notes were found in his compartment. Bagila did not yet know and could not know that there was only one step from love to hate and vice versa, but from that moment she felt that all her attention had shifted to the sheet of written paper. What could this sharp, handsome young man write about, the man who so easily offended her and her father? What thoughts did he entrust to this sheet? She was convinced that in the lines that covered the white sheet there were words, expressions, thoughts completely different from those that she heard, read, knew until today. It couldn\u2019t be anything else! Suddenly a new thought appeared, flashing like lightning, electrifying her mind. Bagila shuddered and began to breathe rapidly. \u201cHe might come back to us for the forgotten paper!\u201d Bagila did not know whether she wanted or did not want the stranger to appear again, she was afraid to understand this, but one thing was clear: her quiet life, which had been flowing for all eighteen years in the family cradle of respect and reverence, dignity and fame, was shaken up today, like a bird after sleep. \u201cDad, are you thirsty? I\u2019ll bring you tea!\u201d Bagila said loudly, as if trying to scare away her current state, into the clutches of which she fell without resisting, and now she decided that she would easily be able to get rid of this new feeling, she had only to speak up, to say something… Her father answered in a sleepy voice that he did not want tea but instead he wants to lie down a bit and think about business. The compartment door quietly slid aside, and a male voice came from the corridor: \u201cMay I?\u201d Bagila almost flew off her seat. A man \u2013 a completely different man raised his eyebrows, surprised at such a panicky fright of the girl. And her cheeks instantly flushed. \u201cKaratai Isaevich, do you need anything at the moment?\u201d the man asked, as if explaining the purpose of his arrival. Karatai repeated what he had said to his daughter without turning his face away from the wall. The young man hastily apologised and disappeared, silently closing the door behind him. It was only later, Bagila learnt that two guys were traveling with them in the next compartment, but were they travelling on the road for their own business or were they there to accompany her father? This she did not know. \u201cDad, you rest, and I will stand in the corridor…\u201d \u201cAs you wish.\u201d A slight irritation slipped through his father\u2019s voice; he didn\u2019t like it when people interfered with his rest. \u201cAlthough you should rest too…\u201d Bagila went out into the corridor and saw her native steppe through the open window. It swam back majestically, splashing towards the horizon in gentle, lazily rounded hills. Looking at it, one might think that the whole world is a great undulating space without a single sharp line. At first glance, any person, even if you were to tie them with a hair lasso, could not linger in this hot sleepy steppe for very long and would run away to wherever their eyes looked, breaking any restrains they might have. And sometimes she herself was not far from thinking of doing the same. But last year, having rested for a month in Crimea, then touring the Baltic republics and returning home a week before the start of the school year, she suddenly felt with all her heart, how much she dearly loved this outwardly plain steppe land of hers. For a long time, she remembered the Black Sea and the Baltic, but each time the boundless strong water passed in her mind into her native hilly steppe, the charms of the sea and forest were clouded by the calm, soft beauty of the immense feather grass plain on which she was born and grew up. \u201cDo you like the steppe?\u201d A sweet, ingratiating voice rang out from behind her. Turning around, Bagila saw a jigit horseman with an ingratiating smile on his face, the same one who had offered services to his father a minute ago. His name was Turgat. And again, an obliging readiness showed through in his behaviour, as if at any moment he would say, \u201cWhat are my orders? I will execute them immediately.\u201d It seems that this is a well-groomed man, always carefully watching himself, striving to appear affable, understanding, and intelligent in front of people. Bagila often saw him next to her father, but not once did she manage to understand what thoughts, what essence is hidden be- hind the man\u2019s fake smile, his helpfulness, his feigned culture. In order to somehow understand Turgat, one has to look deep into his eyes, carefully, but Bagila could not decide on such a thing. On the contrary, when meeting with him, she either turned aside, as if not noticing him, or greeted him without raising her head. And he always smiled no matter what happened around him. And now he was blooming in an especially welcoming smile, as if he had heard something pleasant from Bagila. She had never had a heart for him, but Bagila understood that for the sake of decency it was necessary to say something in response. \u201cLook\u2026\u201d she said in a barely audible voice. \u201cOh, the steppe is always wonderful and unique! But nothing can compare with Almaty! If you don\u2019t mind, I\u2019ll show you the city when we arrive. I know Almaty by heart!\u201d \u201cI also know Almaty\u2026 well enough,\u201d said Bagila somewhat harshly, deciding to stop the flow of his words, which began to rush down like a stream from a steep. \u201cAh, is that how it is? That\u2019s a bold statement, it is difficult to really \u2018know\u2019 Almaty, especially its surround- ings. You know, Almaty is precisely beautiful in the outskirts,\u201d said Turgat. \u201cProbably.\u201d \u201cI studied there for five years. Yes, I was born and grew up near the city. If I say something wrong, I beg your pardon, but it\u2019s probably because I\u2019m going to my fatherland… I hope it doesn\u2019t all pass through you, a draft like that would be a terrible thing for a person…\u201d Bagila sighed as if she had to swallow something sugary and sticky. \u201cThanks, I\u2019ll make sure it won\u2019t.\u201d \u201cYou still take care.\u201d He looked at the girl as if he were her own older brother. \u201cOf course, everyone cherishes their fatherland. You are young at the moment, but you will understand what I am talking about later. To be honest, at first, I wanted to escape from this place back to my homeland. But one thing kept me, my shame before Karatai Isaevich. And now I\u2019m used to it, I\u2019ve made up my mind about everything… But I still yearn for my homeland. You haven\u2019t experienced anything like this\u2026\u201d Bagila could not overcome her disgust for Turgat. She didn\u2019t want to talk at all. She quietly went to the compartment where her father was resting. Turgat stood like a monument, offended by the neglect of the girl. Bagila felt awkward and, after taking a few steps, turned to him. \u201cExcuse me… a stranger who was in our compartment left some paper. If it\u2019s not difficult, can you tell him about it?\u201d She said pleadingly. Turgat forgot his grudge against Bagila in the blink of an eye and looked at her with a smile. \u201cI will gladly do it with all my heart… You know that I am always ready to serve you.\u201d Instead of a grimace of ambition and resentment, a smile settled on his face, ready to be in the wings of a person. But Bagila knew that the fury of pride had not yet cooled down in him, and she was struck by his rare ability to control himself in accordance with the situa- tion and to suppress all emotions in himself, if necessary. True, the reason for this change in his mood was most likely something else, that this guy was from the breed of those who simply cannot be offended, but Bagila some how did not think about it. If she had looked at him, she would have seen a respectful smile, such respect that she would have wanted to pat the guy on the shoulder, but Bagila looked at his black patent leather shoes instead. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t need you to serve me, it would be bet- ter if you provided service to that person,\u201d she said dryly and went into the compartment. Her father was sleeping. From an old habit, he snored softly and monotonously, with his mouth slightly open. Bagila remembered how her grandmother, who had died a few years ago, would actively go around the rooms and wake up everyone who was snoring. She approached them, stepping inaudibly, gently touching their shoulder, while saying \u201cTurn to the other side.\u201d While she was waking to another one, the one whom grandmother had just laid on their side was snoring again, and she again hurried back to them. So, until sleep overcame her, the grandmother paced back and forth between her children and grandchildren. \u201cGrandma, why are you waking up those who are snoring?\u201d Bagila asked. \u201cA demon strangles a person at night. That\u2019s why they snore,\u201d she answered. Whether because the terrible words of her grandmother had been firmly planted in her mind since childhood, or because she was accustomed to rest in silence, always in a separate room, but Bagila could not stand it when someone snored nearby. Like her grandmother, she quietly approached and was about to wake her father, but then she again saw a half-written sheet of paper on the table and froze in place, again experiencing a new, strange feeling… She slowly reached out and picked up the sheet. Her breath hitched, it seemed that her father woke up. She looked at him. He was asleep, though he was no longer snoring. She looked back at the paper in relief, the words written seemed completely different from what she imagined. The writer seemed to be bullying someone, not really thinking about how smart his position was. She re-read it several times before the writing began to reach her… \u201cAdmiration and worship have never belonged to abstract concepts, since the very final analysis they are connected with the worldview of an individual. And the personality itself, its consciousness and thought are always concrete… The prose of Thackeray, Hugo, Frans, Schiller Scott that are known to the whole world did not arouse admiration and worship in me. Probably, someone is ready to attack me for this knowledge, and they say, that this is almost sedition! Yes, where did this wisdom come from, on what basis did he… and so on. So, they are fans. The ones who admire him can be dissuaded, the flame of their adoration can be knocked down, but the admirers cannot be turned off their path. It looks like a cult, fanaticism. Fanaticism and reason cannot live side by side, they are incompatible concepts. If fanaticism flourishes in an environment of ignorance, then reason develops in a conscious society. I do not bow before the writers mentioned above, I do not even admire them, because many can write like that. On the contrary, most of all I am attracted by the philosophical concepts of the little-known P. Borel, who lived in the eighteenth century, who died at the age of twenty-three. Surprising and striking is his unexpected approach to many issues, a kind of desire to make a revolution in the minds of people. Or the modern Russian writer D. Granin! His \u201cThis Strange Life\u201d (the rest is weak) stands high! The sensational Rasputin and Astafiev are worth attention, but they did not add anything new to the universal thought. \u2018Somebody\u2019 named R. Vaillant excites me in a completely new way. Because he knows how to criticise himself boldly and sharply. And if we evaluate Kazakh literature, the professional level of its artistic prose and artistic thinking…\u201d …Bagila sat without taking her eyes off the paper. She did not know how to react to what she read, to admire or toss the sheet away like garbage. But is it really possible to admire something from now on if he writes that admiration and worship ultimately lead to ease in assessments. True, this is not a very clear concept, but what if what he wrote is the truth itself?! And if it\u2019s not? She remembered Turgat, who remained standing in the corridor. She smiled contemptuously, thinking again about his ignorance and narcissism, about how he puts forward his chest, in which a false conscience nests. And the one who wrote these lines? Undoubtedly, he is completely different! Up until that moment she had felt a sense of mocking pity for the man her father had sent out of the compartment, but now this arrogant feeling has been replaced by bitter shame. She did not know who he was, but she understood: he was much higher than them, including her father, higher than all those people among whom she had lived until now. It became unpleasant for her that she somehow imperceptibly placed a man she met by chance above her father; even angry at herself for this, Bagila admitted that it was so. Even if what he wrote was a complete delusion, though those words themselves, the particular train of thought, were completely unattainable for the father. But, Lord, it turned out to be disgusting to admit someone else\u2019s superiority, how unbearable it was to admit that the will of her father, manifested in relation to a stranger, was nothing more than the tyranny of a power-hungry man. \u201cSo does my father really think that the strength of power can take precedence over knowledge, over the mind?!\u201d Bagila marvelled at this idea. \u201cHe who thinks, has no joy in life.\u201d This poetic line, which for some unknown reason had sunk into her memory, now continually sounded in her head, disturbing her. \u201cHow strange,\u201d she thought, \u201cWhy did Abai say that there is no joy for a thinker?! After all, a thinking and just person always wins in the end, the truth will be on his side, he will taste the fruits of his labour, his knowledge, his thoughts. And we are told this at every corner, as far as I can remember myself, we have been taught this for ten years. So, who do I trust: Abai or my teachers? And how can you not trust the other?!\u201d \u201cHe who thinks, has no joy in life…\u201d Bagila\u2019s mind was all jumbled up. Her consciousness became unsteady, like a mirage in the steppe, and she did not know what thought to grasp. And they were frighteningly sharp for her, pushing for grades that she could not even dare before. Something strange was happening to her. After all, a few hours ago everything was so calm, unshakable and, as it seemed to her, good. Now, no matter what she thought about, her thoughts ran into some kind of dead end, and this dead end for her became a stranger who casually scolded Hugo, who was thrown out of the compartment by her father, like an unnecessary newspaper. Of course, losing your seat in a compartment is not a great loss, not the worst mockery. But why, why did her father need to be violent? She looked at her father, who was sleeping, her mouth parted so that blackness gaped behind her teeth, and once again, she cautiously touched the sheet that lay in front of her on the table with her fingers. And what\u2019s next? A painful desire arose in her — it was imperative, that at any cost, she had to find out what was written in the other sheets. Was that all she wanted? Well, of course, she also wanted to read the beginning or end of these arguments and see this man again, talk to him. This time, the opportunity to appear in front of the man did not frighten her… The train arrived in Almaty in the evening. And here her father had many acquaintances. Despite the unbearable July heat, five men in full dress suits and ties enthusiastically greeted them at the station and led them to two brand new Volgas. Their car sped along a beautiful street lined with silvery poplars. The sun was long gone, and the sky is still pink, broken in the south by snow-white mountain peaks. The avenue was watered a few minutes ago, and the wheels of the Volga were throwing back the mirrored asphalt with a wet whistle. The voices behind her did not stop for a second. Bagila heard that their conversation was chaotic, it was about everything at once. One of the greeters began to tell that in the summer it is more profitable to fly by plane. He was actually in Tashkent recently, he got on a plane, and then \u2013 he arrived without any road torment. Then, with some greed, he talked about the shish kebabs, which are allegedly sold in Tashkent at every turn. \u201cOne has only to go out into the street, as the tablecloth is already out laid in front of you,\u201d he exclaimed dreamily. \u201cAs long as you have some roubles, you can eat your fill!\u201d The storyteller seemed to have arrived from a distant unknown country and therefore did not know that those sitting in the car had been to Tashkent at least five or six times already… Bagila stared intently at the white stripes on the pavement flying under the car, and wondered to her- self: how can such mature, respectable people talk with pleasure about some petty, meaningless things, laugh, downright laugh where there is nothing to laugh at, even at the slightest things. The cars in front stopped next to a six-story building in the very centre of the city, they were so close they were basically squeezing each other. The owner of the apartment building turned out to be a lean, tall, middle-aged man with thick grey hair beyond his age, the same one who had been talking about his trip to Tashkent all the way over here without a break. When they noisily entered the apartment, they were met by a beautiful swarthy hostess of about thirty, smiling shyly at the door. \u201cOh, Malika, how are you?\u201d Exclaimed her father, and Bagila realised that this woman was the wife of the fan of Tashkent shish kebabs. Quickly wiping her hands on her apron, she embraced her father, saying: \u201cOh, Karatai, it turns out you\u2019re here as well!\u201d She rushed to serve the guests slippers. \u201cYou used to come often, but then you became the boss and disappeared before our eyes. Have you gained any weight? Well let me see!\u201d She began to examine Karatai from all sides. \u201cNo, looks like your stomach still isn\u2019t ahead of you.\u201d But remember, the first head of the district should not be thinner than necessary.\u201d \u201cMalika, don\u2019t forget that we have another distinguished guest in our house today,\u201d the owner said sternly to his wife, who, in his opinion, was too carried away by Karatai. She turned to Bagila, who was quiet in the corner of the corridor. \u201cOh goodness, how lovely! Beautiful! I remember your name is Bagila?\u201d Maliki gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. \u201cIndeed, it is not time that ages a person, but those who they grow up next to, next to this beauty I am quite an old woman, eh! When I saw her about two years ago, she was a girl busy with dolls, but now look, she\u2019s so charming!\u201d Malika chirped. \u201cMalika, I think we will have enough time to philosophise on the topic of the transience of life,\u201d the husband said, and Bagila caught that the topic of old age greatly offended him. It turns out interestingly, that even though they haven\u2019t had time to sit down yet, the husband has already pulled his wife back twice. \u201cAnd what is left for us but to philosophise?\u201d Malika continued playfully, not thinking of changing her tone. \u201cA person who has seen a lot, who has experienced a lot, philosophises, but I\u2019m not a girl,\u201d she exclaimed cheerfully, and everyone understood that it was too early for her to show off. \u201cAll right, come to the table.\u201d At the table the conversation was as twitchy as in the car. They talked at the same time about the weather, politics, about the appointment of one person and the dismissal of another, then, as expected, they returned to the Tashkent shish kebab. Bagila did not understand this table conversation very well. There was nothing unexpected in their words, nothing new that could remain in her memory, or that would touch the soul. She often visited such dinner tables with her parents, where people of various kinds met. At first, she was surprised by the similarity of words, jokes and laughter of the people sitting at these tables, she was especially surprised because people did not resemble each other, at least in name and surname, in appearance and behaviour, in position… But over time she was so accustomed to this that she no longer automatically delved into their conversations. She found a good way to spend time at such tables: look at people, smile and think about her own things. And this time, as she sipped her thick brown tea mixed with milk, she kept her eyes on the bookshelves that lined both of the long walls of the living room, making the room look more like a small library. And at the table they laughed loudly, smacked their lips, chewed, and somehow this image did not fit in with the bookshelves behind them, it even seemed to Bagila as some kind of sacrilege. She looked for a moment at the owner of the house, who, picking his teeth, spoke with pleasure about the cock- fights held in Tashkent. She kept her eyes on him: a fairfaced man with prominent cheekbones, shifty eyes with a kind of crazy gleam, a sharp nose, thin lips. Bagila felt uncomfortable. She had already met such people and at the same time noticed that they were petty scrupulous, irritable, always predisposed to an argument, jealous and arrogant at the same time. On top of that, they are too cautious and ready to fawn. Without taking her eyes off that mobile, nervously cheerful face, she suddenly wondered: had the owner of the house read all these books? \u201cBagila, your tea is cold, give me your cup,\u201d came a voice from her right side, and, looking there, she saw Turgat. \u2018God, he\u2019s annoying! It\u2019s so stuffy, and yet he sits in a jacket like a doll! Can\u2019t he wipe the sweat off his forehead!\u2019 Bagila felt her alienation towards this man grow into almost disgusted contempt. She furrowed her eyebrows and did not think of holding out her cup to him. Turgat decided that Bagel was embarrassed by the unfamiliar situation, and he himself took her cup, giving it to Malika, who was pouring tea. \u201cMalika, don\u2019t make it too hot. Add more milk. Bagila loves it like that\u2026\u201d he said in a business-like way, in a sweetly soft, caressing voice. \u2018That\u2019s how it is!\u2019 Bagila was angry. \u2018Why is he pre- tending to be a supporter?\u2019 \u201cNo, let it be hot,\u201d she asked. Turgat did not lose his head and immediately showed that he perfectly knows all the desires and weaknesses of Bagila. \u201cYes, yes, it can be a bit hot. When she gets tired from a long journey, she likes hot tea,\u201d he explained with perfect calmness. \u2018Insolent!\u2019 Bagila was furious. \u2018He thinks something will burn him out!\u2019 There was a red-hot seven-litre electric samovar, the breaths of people steamed with meat and vodka, the sparkle of two huge crystal chandeliers, six lamps each, which could decorate the hall of a small theatre, the room had turned into a real bathhouse. There was a huge fan, placed on the windowsill, which hummed straining, wanting to serve the feast, but it only mixed the damp stuffiness of the room with its rubber blades, which smelled of smoked meat and alcohol. Karatai, quietly rising from his seat, took off his grey summer jacket, threw it on the back of a chair, and threw his tie on a small coffee table. Then he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, took a deep breath, as if he had lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders, and sank into a chair in relief. Bagila looked away from the books, she looked at the people at the table and saw that everyone was sitting in shirts. Turgat also took off his jacket and sat, imitating her father, whilst unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt. Bagila could not understand how adults who had known each other for a long time, having met at the table, so easily became prisoners of some stupid conven- tions. Each of those present has already made their toast. All words their wishes were similar to each other, as well as thoughts that were generously shared with each other at this table. Even Turgat, who did his best to ap- pear well-educated and cultured, mumbled some boring tirade about friendship. Those who sat at the table were taught restraint, they listened to everything, and as soon as Turgat finished, everyone moved and began to thank him so fervently, as if from the day of their birth they had not heard deeper wisdom. Then Karatai raised his glass to Malika\u2019s health, to her unfading beauty. These words excited the guests again. Only the owner of the house, Sargel, brought his thin lips closer to the crystal rim of his glass, as if wondering if they were going to poison him in his own house, and tasted the cognac with the tip of his tongue, smacking his lips. At the same time, his face remained motionless, Surged was clearly not at ease. So, he protested to his wife because she drank cognac to the bottom in front of people. Malika didn\u2019t care about the protest. Her husband simply did not exist for her now. Sargel closed his hand over his glass and squeezed it with his fist so violently that Bagila was afraid that the glass would splatter in all directions. Bile was clearly accumulating on both sides. At the same time, Malika did not at all give in to her jealous and suspicious husband. It seems that everyone at the table managed to figure out that the hostile relationship between the host and hostess arose through the fault of Sargel. If his wife did not pay attention to anyone, especially men, if she did not look at the sweets that were offered to her and defiantly sit down before him with the air of a woman who has cooled down, if she had not been fond of anyone for a long time, if she does not need anyone apart from her husband, Sargel\u2019s mood would be great. But unfortunately, such moments were rare, especially in recent times. No matter how jealous her husband was, no matter how furious he got, Malika did not even think to restrain herself. She had long understood that her husband was incapable of action, that there was not even a shadow of determination in him, the ability to make any decisions, to act sharply, authoritatively, like other men. Sargel was well aware of his flaws. The consciousness of his own weakness corroded her from the inside, and sharpened his nerves and brain. At such moments, he literally fell ill, became frighteningly nervous, suspicious. Malika was the exact opposite of him. On long evenings, the husband would be shuffling soft room slippers, paced between the study, the dining room and the kitchen, muttering about something with displeasure, whilst Malika behaved in accordance with her mood, not even trying to change her husband\u2019s state of mind for the better. At first, Sargel did not miss the opportunity to demonstrate offended pride, however, he did this as a rule, in silence. He understood that he could yell at his wife, even give her a thrashing, he knew that such behaviour yelling, even beating would not do him any good, on the contrary, mutual hatred would spill out, their confrontation would become open, and so to avoid a breakup \u2013 he keeps his hands back. And at this age, in which Sargel is, an open struggle could only promise him defeat. And he was forced to choose another kind of resistance \u2013 silent discontent. Over the years, this po- sition of his became completely helpless, and gradually he began to obey the wishes of his wife. To obey invol- untarily, with the hopelessness of a desperate person. But Malika did not consider this a victory, she was so confident in herself, as if she knew for sure that her will would triumph in this house, she was perplexed why her husband did not give up so quickly. Malika could not be dissuaded from the fact that only her priority is the condition for complete mutual understanding in the family. In their married life, from the very first minute, the sovereignty of one person protruded — Malika. She responded to her husband\u2019s anger with poisonous correctness. With all of her behaviour\u00a0 in the kitchen at tea, next to the TV, in bed she slowly, deliberately peacefully, like a child, explained to him the inappropriateness of his jealousy, said that with his malicious jealousy he insulted her dignity. But as such Sargel, by nature, could not live without suspicion. And yet, no matter how jealousy tormented Sargel, no matter how he tortured himself with suspicion, like the unsteady shadow of a willow tree or the light of a lonely lamp in a distant village, he was sometimes calmed by a flickering ray of faith. For the last three or four months, this ray has become, as it were, stronger. Sargel came home from work unusually early several times and found his wife either washing clothes, or she was making jam, preparing compote for the winter, happily devoting herself to these female family duties. After such idyllic pictures, his heart became calm. Twice, unexpectedly for himself, Sargel arrived from a business trip ahead of schedule (the last time from Tashkent). Yes, even late at night. Malika slept with her children on either side. He opened the door himself, with his own key. Before waking up his wife, he examined the apartment for any suspicious traces. Everything seemed to be in order. Even the ashtray, which he had glanced at unnoticed by his wife after his arrival, was in the same place, by the hanger, and in it, as before, lay the only burnt match. Around were scattered children\u2019s things, toys, drawings. There was a peaceful silence in the house. Even when he, having entered the bedroom, turned on the light and the chandelier flared up, Malika did not wake up from the sharp click or from an unexpected flash of light. And this, according to Sargel, spoke of the complete peace of mind of his wife. Inappropriate suspicions were dispelled in him, and he even became ashamed of his jealousy. His life began to enter a well-fed, quiet course, he was already satisfied with everything in the world, and then suddenly today\u2019s feast came around… Looking at the rapidly moving, cheerful wife (she was clinking glasses with the guests at that moment), Sargel felt with hopeless longing: his thoughts were again filled with the poison of distrust, giving rise to an unbearably painful state. It was at that moment that he clearly understood that he would never believe his wife, his soul would never be calm, and his love would be completely crushed by blind jealousy. Six years ago, he lost his wife, his first… No one else felt guilty of her death more than Sargel. Her heart was too weak for Sargel. If the wife went to the store on the way home for groceries and did not return at the time appointed by her husband, and if during the day the home phone was busy when he called from the office, Sargel would chew-out his wife and torture her with sarcastic questions: \u201cWho kept you?\u201d, \u201cWho did you meet in the store?\u201d, \u201cWhich donkey confessed their feelings to you on the phone?\u201d This would happen several times, unable to bear the remarks, her heart seized, and she lost consciousness. Over time, his wife stopped going out to meetings with him, so that a quarrel would not break out in the house the next day. He didn\u2019t get tired of making scandals. Even when they were sitting in front of the TV, he would suddenly start yelling: \u201cWhy are you staring at the announcer?\u201d Their life ended with the fact that during another scandal, she fainted in the kitchen and the ambulance took his wife to the hospital. When the next day he came to visit her with the two children, it turned out that his wife was no longer alive. Her note was handed to him: \u201cTake the children to my relatives. I\u2019m leaving. If you\u2019re so jealous, come to me…\u201d Pain rang in his temples. Through this pain, he did not hear the children crying out loud and calling for their mother. The last words of his wife were long stored in his memory. One day he realised with horror that only by her death she was able to prove his guilt to him, that until now, without attaching importance to what jeal- ousy could lead to, he slowly tortured her and eventually killed her. He killed her… At first, he was tormented, even a certainty arose that he would never recover from this unexpected blow, but five or six months passed, and the grief suddenly faded away easily, a blush played on Sargel\u2019s face again. When meeting with friends, he joked. The tense mood gave way to fun without resisting. Previously, when his wife was alive, he walked as if lowered into water, there was nothing in his head but suspicions and jealousy, but now, freed from her, he was freed from jealousy, it became easy, free. True, sometimes some distant and almost cold feeling of guilt pricked him, at that moment it hurt, and it was hard under his heart, but time went on and on, and finally that feeling of the cold edge died down, and nothing bothered him, nothing interferes with life, it was as he wanted. A year later, he married Malika. She had been married once before him. Her husband played the drum in the orchestra of one of the prestigious restaurants in Almaty. When he met her, he introduced himself as a composer. Looking at his long, poorly combed hair, huge beard, listening to stories about music, Malika considered it quite possible. At that time, she worked as a saleswoman in the Bereke national food store. The \u2018composer\u2019 did not drag out the whole \u2018acquaintance\u2019 thing, a month later he proposed to get married. To reject the young talent, who was still unfortunately, quite unlucky in life, was beyond Malika\u2019s strength, and she agreed. Before marriage, it was necessary to introduce the future husband to her parents. She took him to their house, which stood in the suburbs of Almaty. When the hairy groom stepped on the thresh old of the parental home, the children, busy playing, fled to the corners. The old women, who, in anticipation of the bridegroom, were sitting, talking less and less, they could not turn their tongues from surprise. The youth gathered, when the evening reached a certain intensity, the groom showed his art. Coming out to the middle, he began to dance like crazy and suddenly yelled: \u201cDrum! Give me a drum!\u201d \u201cWhy does he need a drum, huh?\u201d Malika\u2019s father asked and licked his instantly dry lips. \u201cGive me a drum! I wrote a drum concerto!\u201d Malika\u2019s father was in charge of the educational department at the school. He sent some boys for the drum. The \u2018Concerto for a drum without an orchestra\u2019 lasted until three in the morning. The wedding ceremony took place in a restaurant. Only at the wedding did Malika find out that her husband was not a composer at all, but a simple drummer at the Tastak restaurant. This was told to her by one of the guests invited by the groom. Married life from the very first night began coldly. Three months later, they were both quite content with their divorce. An unsuccessful marriage broke Malika. After that, men appeared before her, but they were all ready for anything, but not for marriage, and she began to stay away from them. Time passed. She was twenty-eight. She felt how every day the ideal that she had dreamed of and hoped to meet was moving further and further away from her, how the flame of youth was weak- ening along with the passing years. Peers of the same age got married a long time ago, and some unmarried women are cunning people who know how to fool their heads with pleasure for themselves. The men she met would call her on the second day after they met, and with no shame at all, ask her to get \u2018kazy\u2019, \u2018zhaya\u2019 and other national delicacies from horse meat. It hurt her painfully and gave rise to squeamish hostility. She despised the pettiness of men. \u201cBut where are all the horsemen?!\u201d She often asked herself. \u201cWhere did the real men go?\u201d If they are all like that, then why get married at all?! Or do the real ones manage to get wives before the age of thirty? All of her acquaintances with men convinced Malika that the everyman she\u2019s ever met only cared for wine, food, fun and their bed. These four concepts were the boundaries of their lives. Every single one. It is completely incomprehensible why they go out of their way to get into at least some institute and get a diploma? Do you need a higher education to drink wine and lie in bed with women? She met Sargel at the exact moment when she was more than ever angry with all men, She noticed him before, he often perused the store. Malika even noticed that lately he had been somewhat incomprehensibly rejuvenated, he became collected, energetic. She did not know where and by whom he worked. He wasn\u2019t too old, although his hair is touched with a bit of grey, he was most likely wealthy. Somehow the store received camel milk. The store sold it for three days, and on the fourth day the milk disappeared so instantly, as if Allah had cleaned up all the camels at once. But it was the three day camel milk trade that introduced them. At first, Sargel ran into the store every day he loved camel milk. Then they agreed to meet after work. Leaving the store, Malika saw Sargel standing by the payphone booth, waiting, frozen as if he had been put on a wooden corset. Malika, laughing, approached him, loudly tapping her heels. \u201cOh, it\u2019s you? Hello! Waiting for me?\u201d \u201cOh no! For a girl like you, I\u2019ll be happy to wait without closing my eyes until dawn!\u201d said Sargel some what pompously. \u201cThen you\u2019ll be happy for six whole days!\u201d \u201cHmm, I don\u2019t understand,\u201d he said with a forced smile. \u201cWe have five girls here who are like me, so six of us in total.\u201d \u201cOh my!\u201d Sargel was falsely delighted, throwing back his head and loudly, as if in a drum, clapping his hands. From such an unexpected and unpleasant movement, Malika broke off her laughter and looked at him in surprise. \u201cWhat a miracle! Well, you\u2019re quite the joker! You scared me. Are you a composer by any chance?\u201d \u201cNo. I\u2019m an assistant professor! A historian.\u201d \u201cOh, a scientist then!\u201d Malika hooked up with Sargel out of idle interest for the sake of spending time, but quietly got used to his attitude. Moreover, the historian took on all the costs of the wedding and she began to perceive him without alienation, his grey hair, his manner of speaking, his emphathes on every word, him holding his body as if it were carved out of wood, him to moving his head when walking, him looking at people meaningfully, searchingly. She got used to his jacket and tie, which he wore despite the unbearable heat, to the French perfume that spread a sickening smell, to his scrupulous and zealous character, and even to undisguised stinginess. She got used to all this without difficulty because all these qualities met in different combinations in young and old men with whom she was familiar, and Sargel\u2019s character was not a surprise to Malika. In addition, Sargel simply captivated her by the fact that the next day after they met, he did not call with a request to get some kind of deficit, did not begin to dissolve his hands against the expectation. Malika was not afraid at his house, she liked it. The apartment was located in the very centre of the city and consisted of five spacious rooms. The rooms were full of imported furniture, the bookshelves were full of books, the parquet floor gleamed like a mirror. The cleanliness, pedantic accuracy of the owner, the fact that he is a respected assistant professor everything, everything led her to the following thought: \u201cIn what way is he worse than the young ones? And which way are they better than him? On the contrary, he does not drink, does not lie, he has everything in sight. In addition, he does not go with me just for the sake of having fun in bed.\u201d As soon as this thought appeared in her head, it began to occupy Malika\u2019s mind every day, more and more often, and not only during meetings with Sargel… Every day she was more and more persistently fascinated by pictures of a calm family life, the joy of having children, her own hearth. The only thing was that she could not determine her attitude towards Sargel\u2019s two children, who remained from his first wife, she had a vague premonition that they would dispel the calmness of future relationships, would cool the warmth of the house that she would raise with Sargel. Sargel understood these thoughts of hers without unnecessary hints and took the children to his wife\u2019s close relatives. He took them, promising that he would come and visit, he sends money on time and brings them to the city for the holidays… And so, they got married. Karatai was also invited to the wedding ceremony. At that time, Karatai worked only as a director of a state farm. Their fathers\u2019 fathers were closely related. He came to the wedding ceremony with good gifts. Moreover, he took care of all the expenses for the wedding. It was not in vain that Sargel noticed Karatai from all the distant and close relatives… This year, when Karatai\u2019s daughter, after graduating from high school, wished to continue her studies, Sargel wrote a letter to Karatai saying that the time had come for him to repay good for good, he himself would arrange for Bagila to go to university and that, if necessary, she could live in his apartment. They drunk cognac, the stuffiness somewhat crushed the guests, Karat noticed how Sargel had more wrinkles on his forehead, how often his thin lips began to tighten, how he spoke less and less, because Malika was getting more and more cheerful. He did not follow how much his young wife drank; he was not interested. Whilst hiding the fact, he admired her open character, her beautiful face, on which a passionate blush always smouldered, eyes black as a currant berry sparkled, piercing through a person with a magical mysterious light. But, noticing Sargel\u2019s inner tension, Karatai tried to answer Malika\u2019s playful questions indifferently, calmly and coolly. This attitude towards the wife soon bore fruit. Sargel, like a sleepy child, carefully looked around, came to life and began to join in on the jokes and table conversations. Karatai was delighted that at such an important moment for Bagila, his relative and friend liked him, he was able to stop Malika\u2019s fun and direct the feast in the right direction for Sargel. Malika, noticing how tired Bagila looked, took her away from the table to a separate room. The two sons of Sargel used to live in this room. Now it was empty. The windows were curtained with light yellow silk curtains, and in the right corner, near a folding soft sofa, stood a yellowish floor lamp, matching the colour of the curtains. Imported bookshelves lined the opposite wall in two rows, with a stuffed deer head gathering dust above them. His glassy eyes, that gleaming from the yellowish light of the floor lamp, looked sad and reproachfully assessed everything that was happening in the small desolate world of this apartment. The head didn\u2019t know and didn\u2019t seem to want to know who shot it and why they did, or where it\u2019s body had gone, why it hung here, on the wall of the capital\u2019s apartment. Now the most important thing for these yellow eyes was to look at the owners of the apartment, to see how they live, how they tortured each other. \u201cIf you want, you can open the window,\u201d said Malika. \u201cIt\u2019s quiet on this side, there are no cars. Well, get settled. This room will be yours. Here are some modern records. You can play any of them if you want. Don\u2019t be shy, make yourself at home. I love open people. We will still chat with you from the heart. In the meantime, I\u2019ll go tend to the guests. Deal?\u201d Bagila smiled and nodded to her hostess. The room was cool and dim. The noise of the feast, the clinking of dishes in the hall barely reached. She immediately noticed that after her departure everyone felt freer, and stung by this, she thought that there was absolutely no reason to sit for so long, drowning in tobacco smoke among unnecessary conversations. Bagila, sighing deeply in relief, sat down on the sofa, leaning back. Her gaze rested on the books that filled the shelves. All the books were brand new and clearly unread. She looked towards the door and walked over to the shelves. She took one of the books, read the title: \u201cAesthetics of Hellenism.\u201d Opened it up. The pages crunched loudly, as if expressing dissatisfaction for the disturbance, and as she slowly opened, some pages would be stuck together in dozens. She listed through a few pages with her long fingernail and began to read at random. The letters were small, the words were written with tension. She skimmed through half a page quickly. Understood nothing. It simply did not reach her consciousness. She put the book back. Sat on the sofa. She mechanically raised her head and saw the dried head of a deer above her. His eyes were so large, as if open with terror. Bagila trembled all over, her heart went cold. She jumped up and quickly lit a large chandelier. The head was still looking at her, but now the eyes were shallow and cloudy. She, having calmed down, sat down in her place, but did not extinguish the chandelier. From road fatigue, table noise and her temple painfully pounding with blood, Bagila comfortably arranged a pillow that lay in the middle of the sofa, slowly and quietly, as if afraid to wake someone up, she lay down on it, carefully straightened her skirt with her hands, which slightly bared her knees, and covered her eyes. The sharp light of the chandelier, that was pointing straight down, straight into her face, quickly faded, subsiding and gradually went out completely. She slept for over an hour. The bright light falling from above, reflected from the light, yellow curtains of the window, and gently set off Bagila\u2019s elusive swarthy face. Her swiftly arched eyebrows, very similar to the silhouette of a black seagull flying forwards, harmoniously combined with a semicircle of closed eyelashes, which gave rise to an exciting line, as if asserting that nature itself is an unsurpassed artist. The chest, indicated under the white blouse, was lifting easily and imperceptibly to the eye. Now at this moment, Bagila\u2019s appearance was the answer to the eternal question of mankind: what is beauty and purity? The same bright light woke her up. Without opening her eyelashes, she began to remember the journey, when suddenly her heart skipped a beat, she opened her eyes wide. She remembered the young man whom her father had thrown out of the compartment. Before, she seemed to clearly remember his appearance, but now she has completely lost it. No matter how much she closed my eyes, she couldn\u2019t see him clearly. \u201cHe\u2019s also in this city!\u201d This new thought, flashing like lightning, suddenly left in her soul both joy, and excitement, and calmness. Bagila was even surprised that until now she had never thought about her strange companion, had never thought about him. There was a sound of unanimous laughter in the living room, the laughter was blocked by the loud voice of her father, then Maliks dropped the dishes in the kitch- en, which shattered to smithereens. \u201cShe\u2019s drunk, right? It\u2019s strange, why does she drink on a par with men?!\u201d Bagila again began to think with pleasure about the unwanted companion and realised that those sitting in the living room had completely forgotten about the injustice they had done towards the stranger, that they would never remember him. Turgat, this flattering fox, ready to please, despite being requested by Bagila, did not find the stranger, and the papers remained with her. She sighed. \u201cInteresting!\u201d she wondered. \u201cWhy am I thinking about him? Why should I think about him? And why am sitting here and getting worked up over him? For what? Because they forgot about him? Why should anyone remember him? After all, he was not put off the train, but was simply transferred to another compartment. All this is long behind me, no one remembers anything, only I… He probably forgot everything himself, but I still blame myself…\u201d This consideration, which at first seemed like a whole revelation, somehow smoothed out the embarrassment for her father and then completely led to the conclusion that there is no reason to worry about a stranger and generally think about him. But, having already decided that this was the way it was, and that this guy did not deserve much thought, and even more so an experience, she felt a feeling of pity for him rise from the very depths of her soul. Something was clearly wrong with her. For the umpteenth time, her heart was restless. Oh my god, what is this?! She doesn\u2019t even know his name, but god, he just doesn\u2019t leave her head… The door opened, and Malika\u2019s voice rung out, she called Bagila to sit at the dinner table. Bagila did not want anything to do with feasting, but keeping up appearances, she involuntarily stood up from her seat. It was as if they had never seen her. As soon as Bagila appeared at the door, everyone except Karatai and Sargel fell silent and stared at her. They could not and did not try to hide their admiration. For some reason, Turgat jumped up from his seat, accidentally poking his elbow at the plate that stood on the very edge of the table, turning the salad over on to the floor. Trying to pick up the fork that fell behind him, he carelessly bent down and buried his forehead in the thick cream of the cake melted by the heat. Realising that he should not show himself in this state, he disappeared under the table, allegedly in search of a fork. But he could not sit under the table until morning, he had to get out into the light of day, and he got out with the damned fork. At the same moment, a friendly ruthless laughter burst out. Turgat hurried to the bathroom. The state of Karatai, who experienced acute jealousy because all attention was switched to his daughter, was saved by the collected laughter. And yet, he felt in his heart that Turgat\u2019s awkwardness was caused not just by a careless movement… Having felt it, he understood, in such a big city as Almaty, difficulties will arise in front of a beautiful girl, and it will be impossible to defeat them with mind alone. And his heart was sad and sorrowful. Two days later, Karatai went home. They escorted him to the airport. When there was less than an hour left before the plane\u2019s departure, Karatai sent his men to reg- ister his ticket, and Malika and Bagel to get newspapers and magazines. He himself was alone with Sargel. \u201cI want you and Malika to support Bagila. You know what kind of city this is…\u201d \u201cOf course,\u201d Sargel said, making an instant serious face. \u201cBagila is the most capable among my children. But she, I think, is too headstrong. She won\u2019t mind your advice. Raise her like your own daughter.\u201d \u201cWhat are you talking about, Kara! You don\u2019t have to mention it! We are not strangers; how can I not consider her as a daughter!\u201d \u201cThank you, Sarga, I have nothing more to say. How about you, how are you doing?\u201d \u201cNot bad, we live on the sly,\u201d he cleared his throat and looked down at the same time. \u201cWhat are you suddenly embarrassed about? Speak, do not be shy,\u201d Karatai remarked in a velvety voice. \u201cThis winter… I had to defend my doctoral thesis…\u201d \u201cAre you writing it?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s written. All is ready.\u201d \u201cOh, congratulations!\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s too early for congratulations. The thing is\u2026\u201d Sargel began and wanting to capture all of Karatai\u2019s attention, sharply raised his voice, \u201csome of my colleagues are trying to harm me as much as they can.\u201d \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201cBecause they don\u2019t want me to become a doctor. And you understand, they have learned many subtle dirty tricks, and so you won\u2019t guess where they\u2019ll kick you from. They call higher-ups and slander me with God knows what, they spread rumours that I am, they say, an ignoramus… They have no limits and say all sorts of nas- ty things. And some have filed a complaint against me. Can you imagine?! On me! Complaints! One scoundrel wrote that I drove my wife to death! Another accused me of marrying a young one. They\u2019re all loafers. Why do they care about my personal life? And what if I married a seventy-year-old? Then they\u2019ll will write a complaint that he has taken an old woman as his wife. And then, what does all this have to do with science, with my doctoral dissertation?\u201d Sargel spoke angrily, weightily, like a public prosecutor, believing that he left no doubt in Karatai that he was right. \u201cI heard that such a fuss happens among scientists,\u201d Karatai remarked cautiously with a smile. When they reached the end of the square in front of the airport, they turned back. \u201cIt happens!\u201d Sargel repeated sarcastically. \u201cYes, we have a fierce struggle going on, my friend. Outwardly they smile, but in fact they are ready to break me into pieces.\u201d \u201cAnd how are you defending yourself?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026 What can I do? There is only one God, and I am alone…\u201d Karatai was silent. He knew very well every fad in the biography of his relative. He would really like to believe in his honesty, or at least helplessness, \u201cGod is one, and I am alone\u2026\u201d Yes, but that isn\u2019t so. After all, three or four years ago, Sargel got into some kind of trouble, he wrote complaints about someone, but the facts were not confirmed not a single one and he almost lost his position. \u201cDo you remember?\u201d Karatai wanted to say but restrained himself \u2013 he left his daughter to this man. Yes, Sargel is not the most crystal-clear person in this world and Karatai had something to say to him, but family ties involuntarily forced him to help his relative, to take an active part in his life. \u201cIs there anything I can help you with?\u201d Karatai asked, not wanting to drag out this unpleasant conversation for him. \u201cI don\u2019t even know…\u201d Sargel knew everything perfectly, but he dragged on, afraid that the conversation would lose its practical focus. \u201cMaybe you can do something, party organisations have great opportunities…\u201d Karatai smiled lightly and looked Sargel straight in the face. \u201cOh, and my relative sure is cunning,\u201d he thought, lowering his eyes so as not to give himself away, \u201cHow dashingly he sneaks up on me! It\u2019s like he doesn\u2019t know anything, but everyone knows who I am. And where does this attitude of his even come from? We\u2019re not all made from honey, but knowing that he tries it anyway, it\u2019s just scary.\u201d They once again walked around the area with slow steps. \u201cWhy did you have to wait until the last minute to tell me? You see, I\u2019m leaving right now,\u201d Karatai said, feeling that Surge was waiting for an answer. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, I should have said this yesterday. Besides, I don\u2019t know who to contact with this question. Where will my pro- tection be? At the academy or at the university?\u201d \u201cIn the university.\u201d \u201cWho do you need to talk to?\u201d For both Sargel and Karatai, the most painful part of the conversation began. Sargel knew very well who Karatai should talk to, and besides, he was quite sure that Karatai knew these necessary people, and therefore he was angry that he was forcing him to say names aloud. And Karatai perfectly understood what Sargel was thinking at that moment. His comrade, with whom Karatai studied at the institute, was transferred seven to eight months ago to a responsible position in the Ministry of Higher Education. In principle, it didn\u2019t cost him anything to push Sargel to become a doctor, but Karatai was already painfully disgusted not only to go to him, but even to think about how he would go to ask, he would have to explain everything that Sargel told him so viciously… \u201cAll right, Sarga,\u201d he said, sighing imperceptibly. \u201cI\u2019ll talk.\u201d \u201cWith whom?\u201d \u201cThere is a friend. You know… I haven\u2019t asked him for anything yet. It\u2019s going to be uncomfortable, of course, but it\u2019s whatever. The republican party debate will be held next month. That\u2019s when I\u2019ll go for it.\u201d Sargel, as imperceptibly as Karatai, sighed, but was relieved, dropping a heavy burden from his shoulders. Hearing \u201cthere is a friend\u201d, he understood everything. Sargel knew who Karatai was talking about and who he would contact. This man was quite enough for Sargel to become a doctor, even if the entire scientific council is against him. His chest was filled with joy, the world shone in every colour. He felt like a master in this radiant world, stepping firmly, crushing all obstacles in his way. \u201cSarga\u2026\u201d Sargel turned around in an instant, seeing Karatai\u2019s face, marked by unchanging restraint and calmness, he began to listen intently. \u201cI learned that your sons lived in the room that they gave to Bagila. Make it so that on my next visit I can see portraits of your children and their mother. I don\u2019t think you need to explain what I mean by that. You\u2019ll understand. I\u2019ll tell Malika as well.\u201d Karatai\u2019s words sincerely moved Sargel. He was pleased that, whilst busy with fun, table conversations and general attention, his brother still managed to notice the emptiness in the house, that he remembers his sons. When they once again reached the end of the square and turned back, the announcer announced the beginning of the boarding\u2026 Bagila became a student at the Faculty of History. It is not clear why, but she was not happy when she read her name on the list of those enrolled in the history department. On the contrary, when she saw the girl weeping bitterly at the bulletin board, she experienced a quiet sadness. \u201cThree years… My God, three years!\u201d the girl muttered, shedding tears. \u201cHow can I possibly go back to the village? No, I will not go back, I\u2019d rather die than go back!\u201d It turns out that she came to enrol for two years in a row and each time she missed one mark. This year she missed half a mark. Bagila did not know whether she entered the university herself or it happened thanks to her father\u2019s brother. In fact, she did well in her exams. \u201cMaybe I got in the way of this girl,\u201d she thought. \u201cShe\u2019s suffering so much, but I got into the university without any worries.\u201d She also saw how another snub-nosed black-haired girl was delighted with her admission, clapping her hands loudly, like a child. She failed miserably in her history exam. The next time, when she came to take a foreign language, Bagila saw her name among those who took it, she could not believe her eyes. And today, having become a student, the swarthy girl did not know what to do with herself in joy. Bagila instantly hated this snub- nosed woman terribly. Trembling all over, as if a piece of ice had fallen on her heart, she angrily moved forward. She took out a kopeck piece from a small black purse and went into a pay phone booth. She slowly dialled six numbers. \u201cHello! Lika, it\u2019s me, Bagila.\u201d Malika liked being called that. She came up with this name for herself recently, removing the first two letters from the real one. \u201cLika\u201d. Brief and affectionate, Bagila liked it, because the hostess\u2019s invention eliminated traditional addresses, such as \u201ctate\u201d and \u201czheneshe\u201d. Malika\u2019s frightened voice came from the phone: \u201cWhat happened? What happened?\u201d \u201cI got in.\u201d \u201cOh! You scared me! I thought you were in trou- ble… You sound kind of down? Aren\u2019t you glad that you got in?\u201d \u201cI am glad…\u201d \u201cWho could possibly be glad sounding like that? Oh, my little swallow. Run home now, while I call Sar.\u201d \u201cCall who?!\u201d \u201cSar. That\u2019s what I call Sargel.\u201d \u201cAh! Okay, I\u2019m going.\u201d Leaving the booth, she walked slowly to the taxi stop. Malika has a strange habit of changing people\u2019s names. She does not call all her friends the way she calls them, but they do not take offence at her, on the contrary, they seem to be even satisfied. Bagila thought that one day it would be her turn. \u201cSar,\u201d she chuckled. \u201cWow!\u201d Bagila, having imagined Sargel, tried to mentally address him, but immediately discovered the complete inconsistency of this word with the appearance and essence of Sargel, and almost burst out laughing at the top of her voice. On this day, the three of them went to Medeo to sit in a restaurant. Sargel felt himself the main hero of the occasion, he was in particularly high spirits, not hiding that he played a major role in Bagila\u2019s admission to the university. And to his wife, and to Bagila, he was unusually attentive, spoke softly with the waiters, behaved intrusively correctly, trying his best to show how cultured he was. They settled down near the window. Malika opened the blue velvet curtains, and the peaks of the mountains, trimmed with blue spruce forests, turned out to be so close it seemed: that you could stretch out your hand and you will prick yourself on cold hard needles. In Almaty, which lay far below, it was already night in the valley, but here the sun was still reflected in the high mountain glaciers. In the west, the sky was crystal clear, and the sunset was ablaze with scarlet light. A giant mudflow protection dam, having crossed two rocks with its steel shoulders, formed after a super-powerful directed explosion, was a shaky wall that protected millions of lives from the elements of the mountains, in the white-stone city. The dam has already settled down and is overgrown with high-mountain alpine grass. Above it, in the open expanse of the blue sky, mountains silently stood, bound by eternal ice. At the base of the dam, a ring of searchlights glittered on the bare ice field of the Medeo high-mountain skating rink. The sun, meanwhile, rolled over the ridges, and darkness immediately thickened. The wind, cooled in the snow, flowed down into the gorge, swept in cold waves and stroked faces tired of the city heat. \u201cWe are strange people, we don\u2019t appreciate our native nature,\u201d Malika said, without taking her eyes off this powerful, wild and proud beauty. \u201cRecently, our rector (Malika studied in absentia at the Institute of National Economy) was in Switzerland. And he said that there is no corner in the world that could compare in beauty to our Medeo.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s pretty likely,\u201d Sargel agreed graciously with his wife, and suddenly tensed up all over. \u201cHmm… Where did you hear about this?\u201d Malika straightened up, her eyes cold. \u201cThere was a meeting, Sar,\u201d she said, slurring every word while trying not to alert Bagila. \u201cWith the students at the institute!\u201d Sargel gave a short nod, his Adam\u2019s apple twitching as if he had swallowed a piece of ice, and the round mound went up and down his throat like a piston. After that, while the waiter brought and set the champagne, they sat in silence. Bagila felt uncomfortable from this tense nervous silence, she didn\u2019t know where to put her hands, she touched the fork for no reason, moved the wine glass along the tablecloth and straightened her hair now and then, afraid to look at Sargel and Malika. \u201cDo you have any chocolates?\u201d Malika asked the waiter. \u201cWe have Pushkin\u2019s Tales.\u201d \u201cBring one bar… And ice cream.\u201d \u201cOne moment,\u201d the undersized guy, bowing too obsequiously, left whilst stepping slowly. \u201cI don\u2019t like waiters, specifically men,\u201d Malika said, opening champagne in a business-like way. \u201cAnd in the West, they don\u2019t like waitresses…\u201d Re- plied Sargel. \u201cThat\u2019s not true! That\u2019s all hearsay,\u201d Malika fiercely disagreed unexpectedly, waving her husband away as if he had said something monstrously stupid. \u201cFrom the very beginning, nature divided duties between women and men. Then we ourselves mixed everything up so that now you can\u2019t figure what people are really supposed to do.\u201d It can be seen that the champagne was warm, as soon as the wire on the cork moved away, it rushed out of the bottle with force. Malika could not hold the cork, and the champagne gushed from the neck into the face of Sargel, who, not wanting to argue with his wife, stared demonstratively nonchalantly out the window. He sobbed convulsively and began to sneeze like a cat bathed in water. \u201cSar, I\u2019m sorry, I didn\u2019t mean it,\u201d Malika said with sincere pity, trying to wipe her husband\u2019s face. Even after that, Sargel did not leave the heights of gentlemanly endurance, to which he exalted himself at the very beginning of the evening. He picked up the napkin with which Malika rubbed his face, dried his eyes and neck from the foam and said: \u201cWell, after that, how can we not love the waiter?\u201d For Malika, who decided that the evening was ir- reparably ruined, her husband\u2019s expression made a very special impression. It seems that for the first time in her life she looked at him with warmth. The waiter brought chocolate and ice cream. \u201cWell, you can start your favourite dish,\u201d Malika said, looking at the girl with a smile. Bagila really enjoyed the ice cream, but then she saw how one of the four young people sitting at the table near the entrance was staring in her direction. The guy was lean, high cheekbones, with shoulder-length hair. Just like Chingachgook. Taking another spoonful of ice cream, she looked at him… The guy smiled at her. \u201cLika, that guy over there… he\u2019s not taking his eyes off me. I\u2019m uncomfortable\u2026\u201d Bagila whispered. \u201cWhich one?\u201d \u201cNear the entrance, the long-haired one.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m not surprised, let\u2019s see, let\u2019s see! Ah, the one with his chin in his palm?\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t look at him, otherwise he\u2019ll think that you like him too, and then he won\u2019t leave you alone. Always do like this: just roll your eyes and he\u2019s gone. Especially if it\u2019s an artist or a sculptor, in general, anyone from that group.\u201d \u201cHow do you know? \u201cWell, they\u2019re always the first to let go of their beard and hair. \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201cI do not know. Everyone goes crazy in their own way.\u201d The orchestra struck out something from the repertoire of \u201cBony M\u201d. The bearded fellow, who had worked hard to look like Roussos, seemed to be longing for his drum during the day, for, hanging his head to one side, he began to walk with might and main with his sticks. The ringing of brass cymbals drowned out the entire orchestra, and, except for the drum, all other instruments were barely audible. Malika looked at the drummer with displeasure and dislike. After her first failed marriage to a drummer, she couldn\u2019t stand the profession. The dancing began. Bagila was amazed that none of the young people could really dance, everyone just twitched to the beat of the music. The orchestra members, as if pleased that they could instil such demonic excitement in people, tried their best. A very young girl in a short black skirt danced surrounded by three guys. Her blond hair, falling wildly down her narrow back, beautifully set off her pale white face, sparkling golden under the bright light of the chandeliers. She did not jump like the others but instead, danced with skill. A light black jacket with a lace jabot emphasised her beauty. The scarlet plump lips were half open in a smile, behind them one could see wet shiny matte teeth. It was as if she didn\u2019t dance, but showed everyone how beautiful she was, how slim and young. The girl rapidly spun to the beat of the music, and a whirlwind of air, scattering a short skirt, revealed pink panties for a moment. The entire restaurant was staring at her, especially the men, who did not care about the music of their feast, and even more so their wives. Malika noticed that all the men of the restaurant were on the same face, and stealthily looked at Sargel. The piston that was stuck in his throat was moving from top to bottom faster than usual. Malika jumped. \u201cThat\u2019s disgusting,\u201d she thought sarcastically, unexpectedly exposing her husband. \u201cLook at what you desired before. You have a wife who is also sixteen years younger than you, and in the no way worse than that girl. And despite that, your Adam\u2019s apple twitches. No shame, no conscience!\u201d \u201cSir, your salad is cold,\u201d she said, specifically em- phasising the last word as soon as the music had stopped. Sargel, like a child rushing after an outstretched toy, abruptly turned to the table and, grabbing a fork, pounced on the salad. \u201cWhat licentiousness,\u201d he said, putting a piece of tomato in his mouth. \u201cAnd where are that girl\u2019s parents? I do not believe that normal mothers should raise girls such as her.\u201d \u201cIs that the very thought that worries you?\u201d \u201cWhat else can bother me?\u201d he asked proudly, trying not to show that the girl\u2019s legs were in front of his eyes. Malika felt it but did not pester her husband. At this time, the waiter who was serving the table of long-haired men came up to them and took two bars of chocolate off his tray. \u201cFrom your guests,\u201d he smiled. \u201cThose guys at the table over there got these for you. See? And this is a note. To you!\u201d He put a piece of paper folded in half in front of Bagila and left. Sargel\u2019s eyes darted from the waiter to Malika, from Malika to Bagila. He did not know how to act at this insulting moment. Conscience and anger raged in him at the same time. The veins in his temples bulged. Sargel immediately invited a waiter, put the gifts on the tray with his own hands and ordered them to be taken away, pointing his finger at the young people. He could not come to his senses for a long time, every now and then he swallowed from anger, cracked his fingers, terribly cracking his joints. Malika actually supported Sargel in his act, but she regretted the piece of paper, she wanted to know what was written there. \u201cBut still,\u201d she began in a low voice, confident that she would not offend her husband, \u201cyou should have read what they wrote there. It wouldn\u2019t have been anything that bad…\u201d \u201cWe know what\u2019s written there! First, she reads it, then they get to know each other just like that, and then…\u201d \u201cI get it, I get it, alright, I\u2019ll be quiet. I don\u2019t know why you\u2019re still fuming. You don\u2019t know anything about women. They are a hundred times more restrained than men.\u201d \u201cSure, I know how restrained you can be…\u201d \u201cCome on now, don\u2019t be like that! Not a single wise man would tell you he fully understands a woman. Not a single one, and they will continue to not understand!\u201d \u201cWe-will-fig-ure-it-out!\u201d said Sargel in syllables, for he was full of bile. Malika decided not to retreat from her positions. \u201cAre you talking about the women you know?\u201d Sargel flew into a rage. He could no longer speak, only choked from an excess of words, proudly threw back his head, pursed his lips and froze in deathly silence. The waiter served hot food. \u201cHey, boy, bring us some champagne!\u201d Malika said authoritatively, obviously to spite her husband. \u201cOne moment!\u201d \u201cWho will drink it?\u201d Sargel shot his wife with his eyes. \u201cI will.\u201d It was the end. Sargel\u2019s strength was waning. As if asking God for help, he stared at the distant spurs of Alatau. Nevertheless, on reflection, he realised that if something went wrong, if tonight is ruined, then that rumour about him will reach the ears of Karatai… Sargel sighed softly and took the fork. \u201cWhy are they like this,\u201d thought Bagila. \u201cHow can somebody live like this? They are already at a breaking point, and there are still years ahead. If you cling to every word like this… Why did Malika talk about women, who are they, these women? What does Sargel have to do with them, and most importantly, why did he boil over? Why did he nearly burst out of anger.\u201d Bagila remembered her mother, a quiet, unfailingly affectionate woman. She always paid attention to the mood of her children and her husband, she built her personal life in full accordance with the prosperity of her native hearth, thinking first and foremost, about the health of her family and so that evil would not enter the house. She also studied at an institute, knew no worse than others about the endless joys and sorrows of this life. But she always knew how to endure, knew how to wait. Bagila remembered she was then either in the second or third grade when her father worked at the state farm as the chief agronomist, there was a severe drought for two years in a row and he was removed from his post because the farm did not fulfil their tasks. He was in no way able to explain to his superiors and higher authorities that he was not to blame for this, that such a difficult situation had fallen not on one of their state farms, but on the entire district and even on the entire region, that he personally spared no effort in order to at least somehow fix things. Even the responsible workers who visited their house knew her father well, they did not undertake to intercede for him, although they said that the trouble was not Karatai\u2019s fault, and that the agronomists of the region could be removed from work, but it would still not rain. It was the most terrible time for Karatai as he had just started to get on his feet, this was his first roadblock. Yes, people are different, and a friendship started at a good moment should be tested. Yesterday\u2019s friends did not only fail to stand up for him, they behaved as if they had never known Karatai, and this completely broke him. He was very worried, tried to leave his native places and settle somewhere on the banks of the Syr Darya. Though it was only his wife, Gainikamal, who restrained him, reminded him of his worth, and as befits a man, he must endure the hardships that had fallen before him. \u201cThere will always be work for the hands. Though you might not be in charge, you can still work as a simple agronomist, even as an ordinary shepherd. You won\u2019t be lost,\u201d she soothed him, cooling his fury. And she advised him how not to burn out in vain and strain his nerves in vain, she told him to go and see the first head of the region. Karatai, after weighing all the pros and cons, decided to follow Gainikamal\u2019s advice. \u201cIndeed, what others did not understand, maybe he will understand? What am I doing here sitting on the couch? That way I won\u2019t achieve anything.\u201d He did as his wife told him to. The first secretary of the regional party committee understood him correctly. He listened, paused and only said: \u201cWe\u2019ll see. You will be informed of everything.\u201d A week later, Karatai was reinstated in his former position. And then eventually, the drought receded, his mood improved, and the state farm exceeded in their tasks by one and a half times. This completely invigorated up Karatai. He, more than ever, believed in his strength and capabilities. And then the next year the farm was lucky. At the regional party meeting, the same secretary praised Karatai for his skill and efficiency. The next year, in the spring, he rose to director of the state farm. Three years later he became the second secretary of the district party committee, and then the first. During all these ups and downs, Gainikamal stayed the same, she did not droop and did not become proud, did not get angry at her husband\u2019s unnecessary words, that were said in moments of bitterness, \u201cWell, how can you say such a thing!\u201d she would exclaim, after patiently listening to him to the end. Calmness, Gainikamal\u2019s sound understanding imperceptibly calmed Karatai, it forced him to think seriously and control himself. And he could not help but feel that behind the wife\u2019s unchanging calmness there was a hidden warmth, and not just concerns about her family hearth or silent obedience to her husband, that she really cared for those who she loved. It also seemed to Karatai that he always understood her, and he tried never to raise his voice to his wife, not to say loud, stupid words that could hurt a person\u2019s soul. \u201cPerhaps this is love,\u201d Bagila said to herself, becoming an adult. Sargel and Malika, barely touching the hot food, pushed the plates to the middle of the table. It turns out that Bagila did not even notice how the champagne was opened, how they had already drunk a glass of wine. Did they really pour and drink each glass by themselves?! Again, Bagila felt superfluous. Occasionally they turned to her, but only for the sake of decency, without any attention and joy to the event. It even began to seem to her that it was she who caused the quarrel between the spouses. In addition, the recent gift from the unfamiliar guys, the note brought disgrace on to her, it made her blush in front of her relatives. Maybe Sargel understands all this in his own way, that is, very badly, maybe he looks at her and his wife from completely different positions, it is quite possible. Bagila suddenly felt completely alone. And these mountains, and the roaring river, and the skating rink, shining under the bright beams of spotlights, and the noisy city with its restless scurrying inhabitants, the student life that awaits ahead, this restaurant and it\u2019s reckless music, even the inflated Sargel and Malika all this is somehow inexplicably moved away, became cold and flat. There was no person before whom she could open up, lean on their shoulder, count on, without sinning before her conscience. There, at home, she never felt such loneliness, although the life she led was not always arranged and smooth. Even when one evening at dinner, her younger brother read aloud the \u201cLove Letter\u201d (it was called that) written to her by a classmate, she did not experience despair and pain, she only tried to convince everyone that she did not know who wrote it. As she hoped, her father did not scold her, on the contrary, he besieged his son, who was in the fifth grade, put him in a corner, and he shed tears there for a long time. After this uproar in the house, Bagila roused the whole class the next day. She finally found the one who was \u201cin love\u201d. It turned out to be a lazy overgrown boy who ate corn in class and flicked the remaining hard grains at nearby girls. In his letter, he claimed that he would steal Bagila for himself. \u201cIf I am lucky to get on a saddle with you, then my father will not catch up to us with his car,\u201d he wrote. The boy\u2019s parents were called. They turned out to be livestock breeders, they came when the meeting had already begun. The boy\u2019s father silently listened to all the accusations against his son and, hearing that he wrote such a letter to the daughter of the district leader, looked at his child with furious eyes. \u201cOh, you fool, did you eat donkey brains!\u201d he shouted, pulling a horse whip from behind his top. \u201cI\u2019ll scratch the skin on your back! You idiot, now I\u2019ll show you…!\u201d The people around them laughed in unison. The meeting has lost all meaning. Nevertheless, a protocol was drawn up, one copy of which was strictly handed over to the boy\u2019s parents. Now, with some kind of self-pity, she realised that two years ago she was just an unintelligent girl, during that time she has matured a lot, and now ten years of school life, flying quickly and irrevocably, have become only a fleeting memory. And while she thought about this bygone sweet time of her life, the feeling of loneliness penetrated even deeper into her heart and responded with acute longing. Suddenly, the image of the lost girl who stood weeping next to the lists appeared before her eyes. \u201cHow can I possibly go back to the village? No, I will not go back! Never!\u201d Her sobbing voice came through clearly. And then the snub-nosed dark-haired girl appeared, bouncing in joy, and then hurriedly leaving, waving her handbag about. And then the already indistinct appearance of an unfamiliar person from the train surfaced in her memory. She remembered well only his cold eyes, his biting look, but she still felt how strongly her heart began to beat. Loneliness gradually began to dissolve, like fog under the blows of the morning wind. \u201cCan it be,\u201d she asked herself, \u201cthat I really can\u2019t forget him? But why?\u201d For the umpteenth time, succumbing to these thoughts, she did not notice how for some reason, she started looking around, as if she wanted to see someone… into frightening restlessness, feeling an unfamiliar tension and hot, pulsating chills all over the body. She did not want to admit it in any way, she was only surprised that lately it was already impossible not to notice — she had developed that indifference towards him. \u201cIt\u2019s all nonsensical, made- up feelings,\u201d she thought at once, and, thinking so, she quickly agreed with this. And this was in fact the case, because today she did not think about him, and nothing happened to her. Yes, she didn\u2019t think about him, but… Lord, what a torment it is: for him to stubbornly surface in her mind, in some new, exciting light. Sargel and Malika were busy with their quarrel and paid no attention to Bagila. It was actually a good thing, that they didn\u2019t know what she was thinking about at that moment… They sat for another half an hour, then Sargel paid the waiter. They headed for the exit. The guys were still sitting there, and one of them was staring at Bagila. Sargel, showing with all his appearance that he was ready to repel any attempt on his ladies, stepped firmly and sedately. When they came abreast of the ill-fated table, a long-haired man got up and blocked their way. \u201cExcuse me\u2026\u201d he addressed first to Malika, then turned his gaze to Bagila. \u201cYoung man, let us pass!\u201d Malika said sharply, show- ing how angry she was, unable to bear such monstrous bad manners. \u201cExcuse me, I must have lost my head a bit due to the wine…\u201d \u201cSir, if you don\u2019t want me to call the police, make way immediately,\u201d Sargel said, advancing on the guy. \u201cWhat a disgrace!\u201d \u201cI\u2026 did not mean to disgrace, I beg your pardon.\u201d \u201cI cannot forgive anyone who asks me for forgive- ness,\u201d Sargel said, his eyes fixed on the top frame of the front door. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter, god bless you… Now get out of the way!\u201d \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to offend you,\u201d the long-haired man blurted out, hurrying to say the necessary words before they left. As if hoping for feminine gentleness, he looked pleadingly at Malika. \u201cI\u2019m ashamed to stand like this… but how else could I have delayed you even for a minute. Don\u2019t be afraid of me… I don\u2019t know who this man is: your brother or father, but I\u2019m not some kind of criminal, so I don\u2019t know why he\u2019d threaten me with the police. I am a painter. In that note, I thanked you for appearing here, for the fact that there is such beauty in the world,\u201d he looked towards Bagila. \u201cI have nothing more to say.\u201d He made way for them. Malika was taken aback. She had no words, and, making a kind face, as if making it clear that she believes him, Malika passed by. Her soul felt warm, good, and she was ashamed that at first she was harsh with the young man, and nevertheless she noticed that the guy thoroughly touched Sargel with an abandoned phrase: \u201cI don\u2019t know who this man is: your brother or father.\u201d \u201cMy god, it\u2019s impossible to get some decent rest in Almaty,\u201d he muttered, angry. \u201cHas everyone gone crazy, just drinking and dancing? A decent person has nowhere to sit! Wherever you go, they stick like oil, those \u2018artists!\u2019 Well, he should just stick to his brushing and pencilling! Let him draw mountains, stones, bushes for me, even turtles, what do I care about that!\u201d He walked away saying this, talking to himself, until he reached the taxi stop. And even in the car, he continued to mutter, warming himself up. When they arrived at the house, Sargel was already completely heated. As soon as they entered the apartment, his blood pressure rose, and he went to bed. Let him feel bad, Malika was glad that her husband had finally closed his mouth. Karatai, it turns out, sent a congratulatory telegram. It was shown to Malika by her \u2018sister\u2019 when they, after putting Sargel to bed, sat down in the kitchen to drink tea. Every time Bagila saw Malika\u2019s \u2018sister\u2019, an excruciatingly sharp pity arose in her. As a child, while playing on the street, she was hit by a car and was left without an arm and leg. Her neck was contorted by the terrible blow. The left leg, below the knee, passed into a prosthesis covered with a black stocking, and the right arm, bent at the elbow, froze on a sunken stomach. She never wore a dress or a skirt. To hide her misfortune, she wore trousers. In order not to catch the gazes of the people around her, she went to bed earlier than everyone else and got up later than everyone else. According to Malika, the girl was not really her sister, not even a close relative to her, but they were connected by some kind of distant relationship, and only at the request of her father, who lives in the village, Malika persuaded Sargel to take the girl to their house. \u201cMance, didn\u2019t anyone call us while we were gone?\u201d Malika asked as she poured jam into her tea. The girl\u2019s name was Mancia, Malika also shortened her name. \u201cSomeone did…\u201d \u201cWho?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know. A man was asking for you.\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s his voice like?\u201d She shrugged. \u201cOrdinary…\u201d \u201cWell, high or low?\u201d \u201cLow, thick. Like the actors!\u201d \u201cIs that so!\u201d Malika laughed out loud. \u201cDid you do everything I told you? Are you ready for your class?\u201d \u201cI did everything. I\u2019m ready.\u201d \u201cThen call Karatai\u2019s apartment. I will chat with him before going to bed, he is due for good news.\u201d Mancia silently nodded and went into the corridor, to the telephone, tapping her prosthesis like a wooden hammer. \u201cWhen does she finish?\u201d Bagila just asked. \u201cShe\u2019s only in her second year. We go to the same institute. God, I wish I had finished sooner! I can\u2019t look at her, so I try to send her away on business. She is probably offended by this, but my heart, it breaks for her…\u201d She sighed softly. Suddenly, she quickly looked at Bagila and said: \u201cYou are very beautiful! For any woman, the real torment is to be next to you. Women don\u2019t like you. Except me!\u201d She laughed a little chuckle. \u201cIf I were a man, I would definitely marry you. Only this is the misfortune of being the husband of a beautiful woman. You will live your entire life plagued by jealousy.\u201d \u201cUncle Sargel, from what I can tell, is very jealous of you?\u201d \u201cYes, he is ready to die. He even gets jealous when I watch the TV. The trouble is that he does not have Ma- jnun\u2019s pure jealousy, from the poem, but instead, some kind of petty, evil one. Sometimes it\u2019s so sickening, you just want to put a noose around your head.\u201d Bagila almost asked her, \u201cDo you love him?\u201d But she said nothing, thinking that it was too early for her to talk about that, and that they would have many nights and days ahead when they would sit like this alone. Bagila was silent not only for this reason, but she also already knew that Malika does not truly love Sargel, their relationship is determined only by marital duties, they are completely different people in character, age, and they have nothing in common, especially their love for each other. She only said: \u201cI feel guilty if he gets sick.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t worry, he would have found a reason to get angry anyway. Each time we return home offended with each other. As soon as someone pays attention to me, his blood pressure immediately rises. So, you just have to stay away from jealous suitors. Oh yeah, that guy, I\u2019m talking about the artist, I liked him. He turned out to be completely different then I imagined at the beginning. I love people who are open about what they think. Among these there are many honest ones, they do not live with cunningness and deceitfulness. Do you want to listen to music?\u201d \u201cSure.\u201d \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d They left the kitchen. \u201cMance,\u201d Malika called loudly. \u201cMance, how are you?\u201d \u201cI asked for a negotiation. They said to wait.\u201d \u201cIf we don\u2019t hear, call us, okay?\u201d \u201cOf course,\u201d Mancia\u2019s voice sounded sad. It seems that Malika understood a lot about pop music. The shelves were full of tapes and records of popular singers and ensembles. She pressed the \u201cintimate\u201d key on the stereo \u201cMelody-103\u201d and put on the record of Iovanna. Then they listened to Edita Piekha. \u201cI like them both,\u201d she said, reclining in her chair. \u201cThey touch my soul. They sing with feeling. In general, I don\u2019t give a damn about their voices, as long as they\u2019re sincere…\u201d They were silent again for a long time, listening to the music. The slow smooth melody helped to daydream; it carried them away to distant beautiful lands. The quiet house was full of prosperity, a cool evening slumbered outside the windows, it was so pleasant to sit in complete carelessness, calmly, thoughtlessly. Bagila was surprised by Malika\u2019s character. The hostess did not go to her hus- band to find out how he was feeling, did not look to see if her children were sleeping, did not ask if they were fed. \u201cMaybe she just trusts Mancia,\u201d thought Bagila. \u201cEh!\u201d Malika sighed. \u201cHumans are interesting creatures! They are born, they grow and then they die! That\u2019s their whole life. They hurry, they strive for something, they wait, they hope for fate to bless them. And if it doesn\u2019t, they wait as long as they can, but if they crack, even once, they give up and don\u2019t get anything. And then they cry and obey, and they get used to it, lowering their heads. Years pass, they flounder, and they do not see: their lives slowly going out, like a flickering flame. They start getting old. And then, it\u2019s the end. You know, I feel so sorry for the old people, I myself do not want to grow old. I fear old age more than death. One old woman lived in our old apartment, probably in her youth she re- lied on her husband or children, you know the kind, one of those who hasn\u2019t worked a day in her life, and now, she\u2019s unhappy, she receives only twenty-nine rubles a month in pension. Just think, twenty-nine rubles! What can she do with that? Even if you spend one ruble a day, it won\u2019t be enough for a whole month. One day I ask her: \u201cWhere are your children?\u201d and she just waves her hand. They had all dispersed, here and there. And they forgot their old woman. When we moved, she cried… She often came to us to talk, reminiscing about her past life, about her youth. I now visit her in my spare time. She is so con- scientious, she does not even take gifts, she gets offended. I\u2019m only able to bring meat and sugar during holidays or on the birthdays of her children. And then you know, recently\u2026 she started drinking. Probably from loneliness. It worries me, you see… Oh, how I do not want to grow old! You turn all grey, hunch over and be of no use to anyone. And I think I\u2019m getting old… you know why? Because I started to feel that no one needed me. Perhaps only to my children, and even then, because they are children, and I am their mother. Little children… And then who else? My husband? Only as a woman. If I die, nothing will change in the world, the children will cry and stop, and when they grow up, they will forget. In return, another woman, just like me, will appear in this house. Compared to us, men are much happier. What, isn\u2019t it true? Imagine yourself in their place. Here, take me for example… When Sar dies, I will remain single, for whom will I marry with two children, who will need me? Therefore, one must live without thinking, without going into these subtleties, then at least sometimes, it will be easier on your soul.\u201d Bagila was scared. She did not know that a person was destined to think about this sooner or later, more over, during the month and a half that she lived in this house, Malika opened her soul for the first time, and there was nothing good in her. The radiogram, clicking, fell silent. Bagila was about to turn the record over, but Malika shook her head to stop her. \u201cWe\u2019d better lie down. They\u2019ll probably connect with Karatai any second now.\u201d \u201cLika\u2026\u201d Bagila playfully twirled the record on her finger. \u201cYes?\u201d Malika opened her eyes wide, big as those of a camel. \u201cThese Pop chirpings don\u2019t mesh well with your soul. Personally, I think Chopin\u2019s ballads are more suitable for you.\u201d Malika took these words surprisingly seriously. \u201cI knew you were smart,\u201d she said with an incomprehensible intonation. \u201cMaybe, Chopin can do… I don\u2019t know what to listen to and what not to, what to read and what not to read. I was lucky, but not lucky enough to choose between Piekha and Chopin. The phone rang loudly… \u201cOh, it\u2019s your dad!\u201d Malika exclaimed and rushed into the corridor. A whole month passed since Karatai\u2019s arrival in Almaty, and finally Sargel was invited by the rector. \u201cHello, Sargel Saynovich!\u201d The rector stood up, moved towards, extended his hand for a greeting. \u201cPlease, sit down!\u201d Sargel did not know the exact reason for this unexpected call, and therefore answered questions briefly and warily. The rector rarely invited him to his place. \u201cHow is your work?\u201d \u201cNot bad,\u201d Sargel managed to pull off something that resembled a smile. \u201cWe\u2019re working hard.\u201d \u201cHow is your relationship with the department?\u201d He was taken aback, not expecting that such a question could be asked directly, and even by the rector. Sargel had been waiting for this moment for a long time, hoping that someday he would get a chance to explain to the rector what kind of people, his colleagues in the department, the ones that had \u201cdug a hole for him,\u201d are. But in a matter of seconds, it was difficult to gather the thoughts together, and he thought, is it necessary to open up to the rector? Maybe, him asking that question, was just a coincidence\u2026 \u201cIt\u2019s different for everyone\u2026 The work is in progress,\u201d Sargel replied, hoping he was being ambiguous. \u201cThank you for being interested in my life. I often only see you on the move, but I never managed to talk to you\u2026\u201d \u201cYes, unfortunately, that\u2019s the way it is\u2026 There is no time for everything, we are slaves of time,\u201d the rector laughed. \u201cIf I\u2019m not mistaken, we\u2019ve been working together for almost ten years, and to be honest, we don\u2019t know each other very well. Hello, goodbye, that\u2019s all we say and then continue with our own lives. So, I decided to find some time today and talk to you properly. In two days, I\u2019m flying to Berlin, where there is an international symposium of biologists…\u201d \u201cYes, I heard, I heard! I wish you a great journey!\u201d \u201cHow are you doing with your dissertation?\u201d \u201cI\u2019ve finished it. I am currently preparing my abstract.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s good… Although I\u2019m not a historian, I think I can appreciate your work.\u201d He laughed again. Sargel was well aware of the rector\u2019s habit of rising from his seat and smoothing his hair when he thought he was joking or hearing a well-aimed word. And this time the rector followed his habit, as if glad he was able to tell that joke. \u201cThank you,\u201d Sargel said, trying not to show he had taken the hint, but his voice quivered with joy, and the blush that flared on his face betrayed him completely. \u201cAlthough I am a historian, I always read your work, trying to understand them. Sometimes I want to express my admiration to you, but I\u2019m afraid that they may be misunderstand…\u201d He glanced at the rector\u2019s face. Yes, he was right. The chief outwardly remained imperturbable, but only outwardly, Sargel easily noticed that the rector was pleased with his words. \u201cPersonally, I am surprised how you find time for science and use your time so effi- ciently. Please, do not take my words as flattery… As for the situation at the department… with your permission, I will tell you my opinions about this, about the relationship of teachers, what they think about their leadership, after your arrival from Berlin. You should not waste time on this now, since you are already on your way, why get upset over trifles?\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d the rector was pleased. \u201cWe\u2019ll talk again when I get back from the symposium. More frank- ly and thoroughly, okay?\u201d \u201cOf course!\u201d \u201cSee you then.\u201d \u201cBless you\u2026\u201d Sargel said, respectfully rising from his seat, said goodbye to him with his hand. \u201cIf you don\u2019t mind, I\u2019ll take you to the airport.\u201d \u201cOh, don\u2019t remind me. No matter how much I fly, I\u2019m always afraid. It\u2019s also good that there are a lot of friends seeing off, helps me forget about the fear. Indeed, true friends will save you from all troubles.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s great! I\u2019ll be at the airport then!\u201d Sargel left the rector\u2019s office in a great mood. He walked past the pulpit and into the street. Walking along the square, decorated with fountains, he thought about the details of the meeting for about an hour. \u201cIs he disposed towards me?\u201d he asked himself, once again recalling to the smallest detail in the behaviour of the rector, his look, his movements, his words. \u201cWhy not? But why, then, has he not brought me closer to him until now? Why has he never asked about my work before? Even more, after that complaint, he seemed to dislike me\u2026\u201d Sargel thought of Karatai. \u201cSo, it turns out he talked to his friend. Well done, Karatai! A true relative! Well, now try to compete with Sargel,\u201d he muttered, pleased with himself. \u201cWho now from this accursed pulpit will dare to reproach me? And I don\u2019t think I talked so badly with him,\u201d he continued to rejoice for himself. \u201cHow he, the fool, melted from praise! He believed that I was reading his nonsense. What else am I missing! Damn it, what would I have done if he asked the title of even one of his works? Oh whatever, why would he be asking me that anyway? A person who is weak to flattery does not need specific praise.\u201d Sargel chuckled. He remembered the expression of some playwright: \u201cEars, greedy for flattery, but with talent it\u2019s tight…\u201d Having ventured such a bold and biting assessment of the rector, he felt how pleasant it was to think badly about his boss, but he caught himself in time, even looked with caution sideways, afraid that someone might read his mind. Suddenly, Sargel remem- bered that the rector had asked his opinion about the teachers. \u201cWhy does he need it? For what? Or maybe…\u201d His heart began to beat again, but he did not even dare to mentally say it: \u201cOr maybe he wants to hand over the reins of the department to me?\u201d So, enjoying these thoughts and at the same time being frightened by them, he stood for a long time at the fountain. \u201cAs soon as Karatai arrives, we will have to invite him to visit, with that person from the ministry and the rector.\u201d It was an excellent idea. Sargel sighed lightly and returned to the university. Now he saw these semi-dark departments, bare bluish walls, scurrying students and teachers in a completely different way. There were always a lot of people around him, but now he had one significant difference from them: all these people became lower and weaker than him. That is why he crossed the threshold of the pulpit for the first time in many years boldly and proudly. \u201cLika!\u201d Sargel howled in good spirits. He sat in a comforta- ble armchair and enjoyed watching the colour TV. \u201cLika, come here, \u2018In the World of Animals\u201d is starting.\u201d \u201cI know, I know, I\u2019m coming!\u201d She bathed the children, put on fresh linen for them and approached her husband. \u201cIt\u2019s early, isn\u2019t it? Wow, another fifteen minutes!\u201d she remarked, looking at the wall clock. \u201cNo, they are behind.\u201d \u201cPerhaps, though maybe your watch is going a little fast Sar,\u201d Malika jokingly said, not wanting to disturb Sargel\u2019s mood. She warmly dressed the children after the bath, arranged them in armchairs in front of the TV, continuing to wipe the younger\u2019s forelock with a dry towel. Sargel sat behind them, and as Malika bent down, the top button of her robe came undone, revealing her breasts. His body was hotly pierced by an electric current. In fact, he did not like it when a woman had such freedom in her clothes, he never got tired of criticising those who wore light, short dresses. When lying down in bed, he did not see the female body, he considered that looking at his naked other half was dirty. Now he accidentally stumbled upon his wife\u2019s snow-white breasts, and it is not clear why he wanted to look again… And it was completely unbelievable — inside him slowly, carefully, but still, a warm, intense wave arose. Against his custom, he did not make comments to his wife. \u201cWhat is it with me?\u201d he thought. \u201cNo, it cannot be. A man at fifty is still strong. Maybe it\u2019s because I didn\u2019t really look at Malika like this before, or is it true that a man over fifty gains new strength?\u201d The last thought calmed him and glad- dened him. He returned to his high spirits again. \u201cWhere is Bagila? Why is she not with us?\u201d She\u2019s probably reading. From morning to evening, she does not tear himself away from books,\u201d said Malika. \u201cStuff like that can lead to psychosis.\u201d \u201cOn the contrary, it is excellent quality. One can only rejoice.\u201d \u201cA woman, buried in papers, forgets that she is a woman. And when she forgets about it, she disappears as a person! Bagila!\u201d The girl didn\u2019t answer. Malika, slapping her slippers, went to her room and opened the door. And there she was. Bagila, resting her cheek on her hand, buried her- self in the book. She had managed to read half of their library. Once again, Malika involuntarily admired the girl… Oh god, how she would like to have the same light, playful strand of silky hair that falls on her right eyebrow, as the girl before her. Like a doll, she thought. \u201cWow, not a single flaw!\u201d \u201cSur,\u201d Malika said, not noticing how the abbreviated name appeared on her tongue and surprised at the unexpected find. Bagila looked up from her book with a smile. \u201cDid you decide to call me that?\u201d \u201cWhat? Sur… This is from the word \u2018picture\u2019. In addition, Kuprin has a story called \u201cOlga Sur\u201d. Anyway, let\u2019s go see \u2018In the World of Animals.\u2019 This show is 100% true.\u201d \u201cYou are always busy searching for the truth.\u201d Bagila got up from the table. \u201cWill Mancia watch?\u201d \u201cShe is doesn\u2019t like this program; she generally doesn\u2019t like the TV. She likes to be alone. She says that when she is alone, she can present a story much more interesting than the plot of multi-episode television films. So, she has her own TV in her head.\u201d Bagila did not want to leave the room, but fearing to offend Malika, she followed her. Stepping over the threshold of the room, Bagila froze, as if pierced by a current. \u201cWhat happened? What?\u201d Malika was worried. Bagila was silent. \u201cSur, I ask, what is the matter with you?\u201d Malika screamed in fright. From this cry, the girl came to her senses. With wild fear in her eyes, she looked towards the TV. On the screen, a man was finishing talking, something about literature. Nobody in the room listened to him. \u201cIt\u2019s him!\u201d she whispered. \u201cIt\u2019s him! God, I can\u2019t forget him.\u201d \u201cWho?! Who is it?\u201d Sargel stood nearby with a glass of water, looking at Bagila in amazement, Malika gave her a drink. \u201cWe need to put her to bed!\u201d Sargel decided. Malika took her back to the room and laid her on the sofa. \u201cDo you have any pain?\u201d she asked, looking at the girl with pity. Bagila shook her head. He reappeared before her eyes, the impudent young man from the train. All this time, she unconsciously searched for him and then she saw him… Again, the same cold face, cold look, and again only for a few moments…! \u201cWhat was he talking about? What did he say?\u201d How she regretted not being able to listen to him, to see him closely. She already believed that without much difficulty she could forget him, now her confidence crumbled to dust. Her heart was beating so desperately that Bagila realised that the \u201cunpleasant passenger\u201d had taken a firm place in her soul, and she could never forget him. \u201cIs this really how it will be?\u201d She thought, returning for the thousandth time to the question that had tormented her for so long. \u201cIt turns out that I… No, it can\u2019t be, did I really fall in love at first sight?\u201d \u201cWe need to call an ambulance. Your face is pale.\u201d \u201cNo, I\u2019m fine now.\u201d \u201cHave you ever been like this before?\u201d \u201cNo…\u201d Lie down, I\u2019ll give you a cold compress. Malika left. Sargel paced restlessly in the kitchen. \u201cKaratai\u2019s father had heart problems, and that finished him off. It turns out that it is true that the disease is inherited\u2026\u201d he panicked, clasping his hands. \u201cSuch a young girl, it\u2019s a pity! I wouldn\u2019t even wish a heart attack on my enemy. Well, it\u2019s kind of parasite, you can never be cured of it! \u201cEnough,\u201d Malika told him. \u201cWho asks you to show your knowledge in medicine?! This is well known without you.\u201d Malika, squeezing the water out of the gauze, hurried into Bagila\u2019s room. \u201cI don\u2019t need anything,\u201d said the girl, completely coming to her senses. \u201cI don\u2019t have any pain, and in general I have never been sick.\u201d Malika carefully looked into her clear, calm eyes and said softly: \u201cIf my woman\u2019s intuition does not deceive me, something special has affected you? Tell the truth, what\u2019s the matter?\u201d Bagila stared unblinkingly at Malika\u2019s smiling face, bending over her, her eyes full of kindness and pity. And she read in those eyes: \u201cTell me, I love you very much, trust me as you trust yourself. I am your true friend.\u201d Bagila was moved. \u201cLika,\u201d she whispered softly, \u201cI love you\u2026\u201d Hearing this unexpected confession, Malika laughed in her silvery voice. \u201cSo you decided to scare me?\u201d Bagila smiled. \u201cOf course not…\u201d \u201cSo, what\u2019s the deal? What\u2019s wrong with you?\u201d \u201cI… Lika, you won\u2019t laugh, will you? \u201cWhat am I, a fool, or something, to laugh at a serious matter? \u201cJust a while ago, on TV, I saw him…\u201d \u201cOn TV? Whom?\u201d \u201cThat guy…\u201d Malika puffed out her lips, looking dumbfoundedly at Bagila. \u201cThat guy? Who is he?\u201d \u201cI do not know…\u201d \u201cWell, Sur,\u201d she drawled, spreading her arms. \u201cEi- ther you still haven\u2019t come to your senses, or I\u2019ve started to lose my mind! I can\u2019t understand anything!\u201d Bagila told her how it all happened… \u201cHmm\u2026 It looks like you\u2019re in love with him,\u201d Ma- lika concluded after a thoughtful pause. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, it happens. Especially at your age.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t think it depends on age. I don\u2019t just like him…\u201d \u201cOh, poor Sur!\u201d Malika sighed jokingly. \u201cIt turns out that you, before you even reached us, fell in love with him… And I…\u201d She laughed again. \u201cI thought you had everything ahead of you. Yes, me too…\u201d \u201cHow so? Have you lost everything?\u201d \u201cNo, but \u2013 half of myself, because, having lived to this age, I loved several times, but not longer than a month and a half. Though, I didn\u2019t come across mine when travelling… but you, you lost your cool the first time. Love can be compared to a disease. It also has ups and downs, and most importantly, it is curable and in- curable. Oh, my Sur, how happy this unforgettable per- son must be! If I were in his place… probably my heart would break. So, what are we going to do?\u201d \u201cI do not know…\u201d \u201cYou know how to fall in love, but you don\u2019t know what to do, right?!\u201d Malika pinched her nose like a little girl, then, rising from the sofa, opened the door and called out, \u201cSar!\u201d Bagila jumped in fright on the bed: \u201cLika, what are you doing? What do you want to talk about with him?\u201d \u201cLie still, little doll,\u201d Malika said, stopping her with a movement of her head. \u201cNow we will check what Sar knows about literature. Sar!\u201d Sargel was at that moment in the toilet. Apparently, having decided that something was wrong with Bagila, he fussed there, rattling his stand, and shouted in a hoarse voice: \u201cWhat? Give me a minute!\u201d \u201cYou can stay there with complete pleasure. Sur feels fine! Tell me just who recently appeared on TV?\u201d Bagila, seeing that she couldn\u2019t stop Malika, sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d asked Sargel, falling silent again. \u201cWell, it\u2019s necessary. I think I\u2019ve seen him some- where…\u201d \u201cWhere?\u201d \u201cIf I remembered, I wouldn\u2019t be asking you! I think he\u2019s the one that didn\u2019t pay me for the mare milk!\u201d \u201cJasyn Madiev.\u201d \u201cIs he talented?\u201d \u201cRecently, he\u2019s become quite popular.\u201d \u201cDo you like him? I\u2019m talking about his books.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t read them. But the newspapers shout with each other about the fact that there isn\u2019t a more talented writer than him.\u201d \u201cSar, congratulations! You got a five on the test! Especially in such a difficult situation.\u201d She closed the door and turned to Bagila: \u201cBecause he does not know about his works, it\u2019d probably give him a two, but so far, his works are not of interest to us. Well, did you hear his first and last name?\u201d \u201cGod, what a shame! How can I look Sargel in the eye now!\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it. How could he know why I asked about this writer. Anyway, we found out the main thing. Now it\u2019s not that hard to find him. We\u2019ll call the Writers\u2019 Union, and they\u2019ll give us his address and phone number. Well, shall we try?\u201d \u201cFor god\u2019s sake stop it! There is no need.\u201d \u201cWhy? How are you going to find him?\u201d Malika paused, thought for a moment, and soon said nonchalantly: \u201cWe\u2019ll see how it goes. Time will tell. Let\u2019s go watch TV.\u201d \u201cNo, I\u2019ll still be here. I am ashamed to be in front of Sargel.\u201d \u201cOkay. You can sit with your \u201cbeloved\u201d as long as you like.\u201d \u201cLi-ka!\u201d \u201cCiao!\u201d She affectionately patted Bagila on the cheek and floated out of the room. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll stay with my dear husband.\u201d She uttered the last words cheerfully, but Bagila still caught the hidden bitterness in them. \u201cJasyn,\u201d Bagila repeated to herself. \u201cJasyn Madiev. Jasyn… \u2018Lightning?!\u2019 Jasyn\u2026! That\u2019s who he is!\u201d Bagila read two of his books. And she re-read it more than once, literally on the eve of leaving home, she again held them in her hands. To be honest, Bagila was surprised by his outlook on life, his deep understanding of life, the thoughts and feelings of his characters, and the high culture of writing. Newspapers lifted his name to the skies. She also read devastating articles, but they only rocked the waves of his popularity. Today, his name and face combined for her. As soon as the program about animals ended, Malika looked into Bagila\u2019s room. \u201cSur,\u201d she said, sitting down in the armchair next to the sofa. There was significance in her voice. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t go through with this… I just called an actor. They appear to know each other well.\u201d \u201cGo through with what? Know who well?\u201d \u201cWell, that\u2019s… You shouldn\u2019t fall in love with that man. He is a married man. He has two children.\u201d Bagila froze, trying her best not to show that the news had an effect on her in the same way as the appear- ance of Jasyn on the TV screen. \u201cLika,\u201d she cried ardently. \u201cYou… why do you think of me like that?! When did I say that I was in love with him? When? Why are you humiliating me\u2026\u201d She turned away, not hiding her offence, and fell face down into the pillow, shedding warm tears. \u201cOkay, okay! Don\u2019t worry like that. If I offended you, I\u2019m sorry. Sur, don\u2019t be mad at me. It\u2019s my duty to tell you this because I\u2019m worried… I don\u2019t know why, but when I think about you, I get scared. Maybe it\u2019s all rubbish on my part, maybe not. Well, forgive me!\u201d It was clear to see that Malika could not bear to look at Bagila crying, and she left her room. \u201cJust booked a call with Karatai,\u201d Sargel said. He was in a great mood. Malika was scared. \u201cWhy are you doing this? Don\u2019t talk about what happened, don\u2019t! She is perfectly healthy.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s not about that,\u201d Sargel said nonchalantly. \u201cIt\u2019s a different matter. I want to talk about our business.\u201d He did not dare to tell his wife about today\u2019s meetting with the rector: he was afraid that she would start gossiping and the meaning of their conversation would reach outsiders. Sargel did not trust his wife\u2026 As soon as Malika left, Bagila closed herself off with the latch from the inside and gave way to tears. She did not hide the fact that she could not forget him and ad- mit that she was \u201cin love\u201d with him! It was beyond her strength, her pride. The last days of September passed by. The rain that had begun in the morning turned into snow, then again gave way to cold rain. The paved avenues and sidewalks were covered with dirt, leaves and all kinds of things. Almost a month has passed since Bagila and her fellow students went to work in agriculture. Sargel wanted to leave her in the city, and Malika supported him, fearing that Bagila would fall ill inadvertently, but the girl was eager to live away from the city. Malika croaked; it was as Sargel had warned. Two days after leaving, Bagila suddenly developed a fever and fell ill, although the work was not that hard, they were just picking apples. The young teacher Serbota, who brought them to the state farm, became alarmed and wanted to immediately send her back to Almaty, but Bagila flatly refused. For four days she lay in the state farm hotel, which was specially vacated for students. For all four days Serbota never left her side. She was suggested to lie still, but Bagila, avoiding unnecessary words and suspicious glances of her fellow students, she went to work! Serbota was energetic, single, and with all his energy he plunged into torments of love and arrived in Almaty completely emaciated. Though it was very clear, that there was not a single guy on the course who did not fall in love with Bagila. Under any pretext, four or five \u2018fans\u2019 were always around her, Serbota, as a teacher, could not be among them and, watching the lucky ones from afar, was tormented by jealousy. By nature, inclined to the exact sciences, he fell into a poetic mood of spiritual anguish and wrote lyric-philosophical letters to her. Bagila did not answer these messages, but sent them to Malika so that she, reading them in her free time, could cheer herself up\u2026 The sky was completely overlaid with heavy grey clouds and, apparently, the sun disappeared for a long time. The Karagachi trees, standing in a row on both sides of the road, having lost their yellowed leaves, dozed in the rain, were naked and dark. And the high-rise city houses looked sad, dull and grey. Lectures ended earlier than usual today. On the way home, Bagila turned into a record store, but not finding anything she liked, went outside and started hailing a taxi. Soon she managed to stop a car in which one passenger was sitting. She did not see his face. The girl gave her address. \u201cGet in, we\u2019re on our way,\u201d said the driver cheerfully. Bagila folded her umbrella and settled into the back seat. \u201cAre you going home or to a hostel?\u201d asked the man sitting next to the driver without turning his head. \u201cAre you asking me?\u201d Bagila was surprised. \u201cWho else! There is no one in the car except you.\u201d \u201cWhy do you need to know that?\u201d \u201cDo you like being rude?\u201d \u201cSee it however you like,\u201d said the girl in an unhap- py voice. \u201cShould have figured! I expected a different answer from you, but you\u2019re no different from the others, are you?\u201d \u201cWhy should I be different?\u201d Demanded Bagila, the man chuckled. \u201cIt\u2019s whatever, I don\u2019t care. I just wanted you to be different. Where is your father, here or in the village?\u201d The stubbornness of a stranger, clinging like a tick, touched Bagila. \u201cYou don\u2019t know my father, so what do you care about him?\u201d \u201cOh, I know him very well, and I know you.\u201d \u201cDriver! Sir! Stop the car,\u201d asked Bagila. \u201cI\u2019m getting out!\u201d \u201cKeep driving,\u201d commanded the passenger in a confident cold voice. \u201cBy the way, did you get into university?\u201d Bagila was taken aback by this question and confused. \u201cHow did you know\u2026?\u201d \u201cWell, I would tell you, but you said that you\u2019re getting out of the car. I\u2019m well acquainted with you. I knew in advance that you would definitely enter the university?\u201d \u201cWhy?!\u201d \u201cAnd you knew that very well. For you to get into a university is a technical matter…\u201d Bagila glared furiously at his stooped back, at the thick bristly hair lying on the collar of his coat, at the long-swollen earlobes. \u201cYou seem to be very offended by life,\u201d she said, trying to offend him. \u201cThat may very well be… By the way, before I forget, did you tear up the papers that I left in your compart- ment?\u201d Lightning flashed before her eyes. It felt as she had taken a blow to her body, even the blood in her veins for a moment froze. My God, how did she not immediately recognise his voice, his special intonation! The car, running squelching through the wet snow, suddenly seemed to dive into an inky dark tunnel. The light disappeared, and only after a while she again clearly saw his back, stone-tense. The one who tormented her for so long, who deprived her of peace and confidence in life, was sitting right in front of her, at arm\u2019s length. \u201cIt\u2019s fate!\u201d Bagila involuntarily though to herself. \u201cWho would have thought that we would meet like this, in a taxi, in the middle of a dirty street! Just like in the movies!\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s with the silence? You threw it away?\u201d He half-turned and looked askance at her. She begging to lose it! Again, that cold face, again the icy gaze, piercing like an arrow. \u201cNo, I have it,\u201d Bagila whispered in a barely audible voice. \u201cThanks for keeping them. There are some very important entries in those notes. I bet you aren\u2019t too interested in them, but I was very worried about losing them, when can I take these papers from you?\u201d Jasyn fixed his gaze on Bagila. Eyes that looked calm and straight, without hesitation, that pressed her to the seat. \u201cYou\u2019re right, I don\u2019t need those papers for anything,\u201d Bagila suddenly blurted out, not controlling herself. \u201cYou can pick them up at any time. Where should I take them?\u201d Jasyn looked at the girl with surprise. There was a slight warmth in his cold, indifferent eyes. \u201cThank you for your honesty. It may seem confusing to a stranger that I care so much for those slips of paper, but I\u2019ve only told you the first reason, and the second is that I do not want even the insole of my shoes to remain in the hands of people I dislike.\u201d The last words went through her like a twig soaked in salt. Looks like he was just a boor. \u201cYes!\u201d Exclaimed Bagila, seized with rage. \u201cYou are right, for us your writings are no more expensive than a rotten old insole. I might have accidentally bookmarked a page of my book with your nonsense!\u201d Anger made it difficult for her to breathe, and she began to crumple the umbrella in her hands, feeling the knitting needles bend under her fingers. She could not look at Jasyn, but all the same, she felt the bile emanating from him with her whole skin. \u201cHe sees that he pissed me off. He is provoking me up on purpose, so that I burst with anger, like a girl!\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s good,\u201d he said, turning to face her with a condescending smile. \u201cI think you have lectures after dinner. Why how you are right now, you probably can\u2019t even tell me what kind class you\u2019re in, what floor, and so on. So, let\u2019s make a deal. Tomorrow I will find your class according to the schedule and we will meet during the break. In my opinion, it will not be difficult for you to take my nonsense with you. And if this is humiliating for you, pass it on through someone. I will come during the break after the first lecture. Deal?\u201d Bagila was silent. The sharp, imperious tone suppressed her, did not allow her to open her mouth. \u201cIf it\u2019s humiliating?! Wow, what delicacy!\u201d Bagila already knew that after this meeting she would have to fight with herself all night, that both anger and affection for this person, who settled in her at the same time, and despite this fight, that heat would still prevail and she herself would bring him this paper. And while rage stood in her throat, even tears welled up in her eyes. She stopped the taxi right outside the house, handed the driver a ruble, thinking that he would refuse if this tormentor wanted to pay for her, but he did not think to do so. Without looking at the road, she quickly walked towards the house, forgetting to open her umbrella. She passed under a high arch, turned to the entrance, and then suddenly saw an embarrassed figure. \u201cWho is it now?\u201d she thought angrily. \u201cBagila,\u201d they called out to her. It was Serbota. He looked at her pleadingly, huddled in a wet, sagging cloak. It was obvious that he has been trampling around in the rain for a long time! Streams of water ran from the brim of the hat onto the damp, darkened shoulder straps of the cloak. \u201cMr. Serbota is that you?!\u201d the girl asked in aston- ishment as she stopped. \u201cYes, it\u2019s me. I\u2019m sorry I\u2019m here…\u201d \u201cMr. Serbota, what\u2019s the matter with you! You\u2019re like a child, why are doing this?\u201d \u201cYou mean to tell me to go home?\u201d \u201cNo, but\u2026 It\u2019s awkward somehow\u2026 Uncle Sargel knows you well, if he sees that-\u201d \u201cLet him.\u201d \u201cYou don\u2019t care, what about me? Tomorrow will be a day…\u201d Said Bagila, trying to get rid of him. \u201cYou\u2019ll catch a cold…\u201d \u201cSo what. If it\u2019s for you…\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s for me?\u201d She looked at him, not knowing how to extricate herself. \u201cWhat a shame… Go away, for god\u2019s sake, I beg you…\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll call you later…\u201d \u201cNo\u2026 no! Listen\u2026 They can see everything from our windows. Listen\u2026 I have to get going now, all the best to you.\u201d \u201cLet\u2019s step aside…\u201d \u201cYou\u2026 if you don\u2019t want to offend me, then leave now\u2026\u201d \u201cI won\u2019t leave until you promise to spend next Sunday with me. I\u2019m tired of waiting and being patient.\u201d \u201cOh my god, how do I get away from him! What do I do?\u201d She thought. \u201cFine…\u201d \u201cAre you saying it like that just to get rid of me?\u201d \u201cLord, what is the matter with you today\u2026! I said fine, got it!\u201d \u201cThank you,\u201d Serbota blurted out. \u201cYou can go, and I\u2019ll just…\u201d Bagila quickly ran into the entrance, loudly slam- ming the door. She was finally left alone; she leaned her shoulder against the wall and closed her eyes. \u201cOne thing to another,\u201d Bagila whispered. When she entered the apartment, Malika screamed in fear at the top of her voice, \u201cWhat happened?\u201d Bagila sank wearily into the chair by the door. \u201cI saw.\u201d \u201cWho?\u201d \u201cBoth of them. \u201cWh-what?\u201d \u201cI said both. One in a taxi, the other at the entrance.\u201d Oh lord, seeing how ridiculous it all way, Bagila managed to form somewhat of a smile. \u201cGoodness, you won\u2019t rest until you drive me completely crazy. Speak more clearly!\u201d \u201cLike, let me undress first,\u201d said Bagila, pulling off her wet clothes. \u201cSur, you\u2019re\u2026 not drunk? Are you?\u201d \u201cLika, he can\u2019t stand me. Me and all of us…\u201d Everything that happened today, she laid out like a spirit. \u201cLika,\u201d asked Bagila, looking at the ceiling, \u201cIs all this nonsense really necessary in a woman\u2019s life?\u201d \u201cThis is just the beginning darling.\u201d \u201cReally?! In this case, all this must be endured, en- dured. Lika, I don\u2019t want to love anyone.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s not in your power, Sur… Love comes in without permission, it won\u2019t even consider how you feel.\u201d \u201cDid you love anyone?\u201d \u201cI used to love…\u201d \u201cI\u2019m asking you seriously.\u201d \u201cWhy should I lie, I\u2019m telling the truth.\u201d \u201cAnd how did it all end?\u201d \u201cYou know with what… my marriage to your fa- ther\u2019s brother.\u201d Bagila saw an undisguised bitter smile on her face. \u201cYou\u2026 why did you marry Sar? After all, no one pulled you on a lasso. Well, who forced you against your will to go to the registry office?\u201d Malika, stretching in her chair, sighed deeply and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward with her whole body. \u201cSur, this is a long and, moreover, nauseatingly boring conversation. It is not interesting to anyone, and first and foremost, to me. Sometimes I want to forget about my whole life. If I had such strength in my hands, I would throw everything that I have lived out of my head and live in anticipation of the next happy day. All this is such nonsense, my husband was a \u201ccomposer\u201d, weak-willed men like him are no better than that tyrant Sargel, who killed his wife with his animalistic jealousy, tormenting me like rain slowly chiselling down a stone! Try to look at all this a little deeper. Millions of years have passed since life arose on earth. Of the life that follows after us, we know nothing. We came into this life with consciousness, thought, speech, the ability to understand sounds and colours, grief, joy. We come for a short time. We are in a hurry; we have a very short existence. So why did we even show up? In order to, having married a \u201ccomposer\u201d, divorce him in three months? In order to distribute the deficit to men who, instead of masculine honour have a woman\u2019s desire to fill up the refrigerator? Or in order to become the wife of that half-wit Sargel?\u201d She said the last words with anguish. \u201cWhat! for this I was given life?!\u201d \u201cLika, but do you have any goal? Any dreams?\u201d \u201c\u2014I don\u2019t know, Sur… It\u2019s hard to put everything into one word. Until the last minute, I was waiting for some wonderful changes, new twists and turns. And then I got tired of waiting, all my dreams dried up, like grass on stones. Everything is clear, everything is simple. No secrets, no mysteries. In the morning I go to work, an hour break, dinner, sleep… This is how everything will go from day to day, for the rest of my life\u2026!\u201d \u201cLika,\u201d exclaimed Bagila, \u201cyou should have become a writer or a traveller. You shouldn\u2019t have locked yourself in the store.\u201d Malika suddenly laughed with a small chuckle and pressed Bagila\u2019s beautiful nose with her fingers. \u201cYour thoughts have become sharpened! What oth- er questions do you have?\u201d \u201cBut you didn\u2019t answer any of the questions!\u201d \u201cAnother time, Sur. It\u2019s eleven now. I have to get up early tomorrow. Besides, if I talk to you for a long time, Sar will get jealous. God, he is jealous of me even when I\u2019m watching TV or even sitting on a stool.\u201d \u201cSo, he loves you with all his heart.\u201d \u201cYes, of course, that\u2019s why he is jealous of me on a stool!\u201d Covering her mouth with her hand, she laughed contemptuously. \u201cSometimes it seems to me that he came into this world only for jealousy…\u201d Bagila laughed along with her. \u201cLaughter suits you,\u201d Malika remarked. \u201cEverything suits you. Well, okay: listen to music, read books, dream. In the end, you will leave this room either a wise woman or a mad woman. And one more thing… Sur, I don\u2019t want to interfere in your personal life. You have enough of your mind. But look, you are still very young, try, as far as possible, to stay free longer. You still have lots of time to wash the dishes for your husband.\u201d Malika left. Bagila looked at her bed, lying at its head, she saw the sheets that she had to take with her tomorrow, and quickly ran through them with her eyes. Now the words were clearer and more understandable than before. In addition, she heard Jasyn\u2019s low, coldish voice when she read them… Putting the paper in her purse, she looked up at the ceiling. Then into the deer\u2019s glassy eyes. The heart fluttered again. Those eyes were very reminiscent of his eyes — sharp as an arrow, cold as a dagger, deep as a well in the sand. He was very close and very far. Scary and expensive. She was hoping this lecture could last forever. And when there were a few minutes left until the end, it began to seem that the old bald teacher either was playing for time or was deliberately in a hurry to finish the classes as soon as possible. She had forgotten that there would be a call. She didn\u2019t care what the teacher said. For the entire hour and a half, she was looking for an answer to the question: \u201cDo you take it out yourself or pass it on through someone?\u201d Bagila flinched as the bell rang. Thoughts shattered like glass falling on a stone floor. Standing up, she hurried towards the exit. All doubts were easily dispelled. Everything was clear to her: she herself would give the sheet. Bagila hurriedly followed the teacher and immediately saw Jasyn in the far corner of the corridor. He smoked, glancing at the auditorium door. \u201cHello,\u201d he said, approaching Bagila. \u201cExcuse me, what is your name?\u201d In an effort to show that she had not forgotten yes- terday\u2019s insult, Bagila decided to silently hand over the paper and leave, but she did not succeed. \u201cBagila,\u201d she answered with a tremble in her voice, and rushed frantically to look for the ill-fated pages in the book. \u201cNot the best name,\u201d he remarked. \u201cIt\u2019s viscous, like Almaty caramel.\u201d \u201cYou… you impudent! What right do you have to talk to me like that?! You have no right.\u201d Bagila whispered all of this, fighting back tears. \u201cYou\u2019re right this time.\u201d She slipped the sheets carelessly into his inside pocket. \u201cThank you! Now I can say goodbye for good thanks to this, but I want to tell you one other thing, don\u2019t be afraid, this has nothing to do with love or any of that nonsense. You seem to have enough boyfriends here without me.\u201d He hit it on the spot again. Bagila\u2019s arched eyebrows quivered, and Jasyn understood everything without difficulty. \u201cI don\u2019t have time tonight,\u201d Bagila blurted out. \u201cIn the evening? Lovers meet in the evening. You go out now. It\u2019s okay, without this lecture you won\u2019t become any more stupid. I\u2019ll be waiting downstairs. Near a pay phone.\u201d Having said that, he turned and left. By the time Bagila came to, he had already descended the stairs to the lobby. \u201cBagila, who was that?\u201d asked the girl sitting next to her during the lectures. \u201cA Relative.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s not true,\u201d the fellow student intervened. \u201cYou don\u2019t know him! And I know who he is. Everyone knows him as Jasyn. I wanted to get an autograph, but I was afraid to break your trills!\u201d \u201cJasyn!\u201d Roared the crowd of students.\u201d Wow! You should have said right away! I didn\u2019t know he was so young?\u201d \u201cAnd he has eyes! Like lightning!\u201d Bagila\u2019s girlfriends even blushed from the thoughts. A fellow student got into the conversation again: \u201cJasyn is his pseudonym. Let her say his real name because they are relatives.\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s his real name?\u201d The girls shouted from all sides. There was nowhere to retreat, since she said she was his relative, it was impossible not to know her real name. \u201cZhylkaydar.\u201d \u201cWow! Zhylkaydar! What a lousy name. Turns out he\u2019s just horse rider. Zhylkaydar Madiev! With such a name, one shouldn\u2019t be a writer, but a livestock specialist on a collective farm. But Jasyn — wow! That\u2019s a name that corresponds to a great writer who can strike like lightning!\u201d \u201cBagila, is he really your relative?\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me? Introduce me, okay?\u201d \u201cWhat great news! What treats are we getting to celebrate!\u201d A lanky guy stuck his head through the crowd. His head was large, and his neck was long and thin. In the summer, when they wore only shirts, his head looked like a boxing glove, put on a stick. Hiding this flaw, in summer and winter, instead of a tie, he wore a nylon handkerchief around his neck. \u201cOh, you\u2019ll get treats!\u201d the girl smiled. \u201cA glass of mango and a raisin pie!\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll take it!\u201d The guy hugged her. \u201cOh, go away!\u201d the girl said, pushing him away from her. \u201cWhy do you want to get to know him anyway?\u201d The guy did not let up. \u201cFirstly, he is married, and secondly, he has two children.\u201d \u201cSo what! For love, this isn\u2019t a barrier.\u201d The bell rang. The students trudged into the auditorium. Bagila, not knowing what to do, stood in thought. A student grabbed her hand. \u201cTaklamakan is coming! Let\u2019s go to the classroom!\u201d The teacher who read the \u201cHistory of the Ancient World\u201d was named Taklamakan. He often used \u201cso\u201d in his speech, in addition, he had a monstrous bald head, and the students called him \u201cTaklamakan Desert\u201d. It is not known when this nickname originated, but it was passed down from alumni to freshmen. Over time, the word \u201cdesert\u201d disappeared and the nickname \u201cTaklamakan\u201d remained. \u201cZhanat, can you bring me my purse!\u201d Bagila turned to her friend. She quickly flew into the auditorium. \u201cAre you coming back?\u201d \u201cYeah, in an hour.\u201d \u201cAre you going on a date with Jasyn?\u201d Bagila winced. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, nothing wrong with that. Say hello for me. I immediately realised that you are relatives the same way me and Alla Pugacheva are. Well, good luck! Disappear quickly, Taklamakan looms near!\u201d Bagila ducked into a nook in the corridor. They settled down at the last table of a nearby cafe. Jasyn ordered coffee, lemonade, champagne and a chocolate bar. They didn\u2019t say a word while the waitress prepared the table. Jasyn opened the champagne and filled the glasses. \u201cFor the return of my notes!\u201d he raised his glass. \u201cI don\u2019t drink,\u201d she said without looking up. \u201cAs you wish. Why did you go to the history depart- ment?\u201d he asked, staring at her. Bagila was taken aback by the unexpected question. \u201cDon\u2019t be shy,\u201d he reassured her with a smile. \u201cI am used to speaking openly on any topic and advise you.\u201d \u201cTo be frank,\u201d she said, trying not to look at Jasyn, \u201cI regret that I met you after yesterday\u2019s incident. I can\u2019t forgive myself for sitting here…\u201d \u201cWhat a miracle!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cI guess I should be offended.\u201d \u201cEveryone has their own reasons. You insulted all of us. You didn\u2019t even consider me a person. I… I never heard such words, and I didn\u2019t think I would… I wanted to tell you that you insulted me greatly.\u201d \u201cYou are more talkative today,\u201d said Jasyn, nonchalantly sipping champagne. \u201cI must tell you that the conscience is not divided into large and small, moreover, it is not divided into male or female. The sorrow you feel is negligible, it\u2019s like the granddaughter to my insult… If I\u2019m not mistaken, your father, he\u2019s the big boss?\u201d \u201cWhy do you need to know? Don\u2019t drag my father into the conversation. Or I\u2019ll leave…\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s easier for you, you can get up and leave of your own free will, but when they kicked me out, well, I think there is a difference.\u201d She was confused. In front of the guy whom his father kicked out of the compartment, Bagila always felt guilty. In addition, this person turned out to be not just anyone, but the well-known Jasyn. \u201cOkay, let\u2019s not talk about it,\u201d he said. \u201cWe will not achieve the desired results if we arrange a trial of each other. So, why did you enter the history department?\u201d \u201cI want to become a historian.\u201d \u201cIs your beauty really so necessary for a field such as history?\u201d \u201cHello, by the way, it\u2019s from my girlfriend…\u201d \u201cMm, what\u2019s she got to do with it?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026 What connection did you find between history and human beauty? What does that have to do with it?\u201d Jasyn, bringing the glass to his mouth, stopped it, then put it back on the table. \u201cI\u2019m starting to like you,\u201d he said, looking at her curiously. \u201cI like the thoughts of a person more than their eyes.\u201d \u201cI know.\u201d \u201cHow?\u201d \u201cFrom your books, I even re-read the last two.\u201d Jasyn stroked the rim of the glass with his fingertip and looked at the girl with undisguised interest, he was painfully ashamed of her every word. \u201cWhat else have you read?\u201d \u201cSome other books, here and there…\u201d \u201cYou have a peculiar way of thinking. What were you yesterday… like an evil cat?\u201d \u201cBecause you… immediately began to be rude. You know, I spent the night thinking about what to do. I even cried.\u201d \u201cWhy did you come today? I didn\u2019t really beg you, I didn\u2019t roll at your feet.\u201d \u201cTo bring you your notes…\u201d \u201cIs there another reason?\u201d \u201cAre you waiting for me to say that I came here for you?\u201d Jasyn took a sip of champagne. Grabbed the cold coffee. \u201cWell, well, you are becoming dangerous!\u201d \u201cWhy did you invite me here? Or did you forget by any chance?\u201d \u201cNo. You know, I have a lot of things in my head about you. Now here I want to turn it all around, starting with our skirmish on the train… Then it will be the turn of the collar that is history, which you, without hesitation, fastened around your neck. \u201cWhat\u2019s so strange about me wanting to be a his- torian?\u201d \u201cYou ever heard of the breed of horses known as Akhalteke?\u201d \u201cWell, let\u2019s…\u201d \u201cWell, it is the most beautiful breed. Do you admit, that the Akhalteke horse needs to be collared? Personally, I can\u2019t imagine it!\u201d \u201cAnd what kind of breed are you, since you decided to evaluate people through means of horse breeding?\u201d Bagila laughed, feeling pleased that she had hooked Jasyn. He was surprised not only by her beauty, but also by her strong, naturally courageous character, which she did not hide from people. Jasyn smiled. \u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cI am an Akhalteke! And you too…\u201d \u201cI have an… aunt here, she calls me Sur. This is connected with Kuprin\u2019s story \u201cOlga Sur\u201d and something else… And now you\u2019re going to start calling me Akhalteke. It turns out that I have to say goodbye to my own name.\u201d \u201cDo not be offended by the Akhalteke. If I were god the almighty, I would create humans not from monkeys, but from the Akhalteke breed of horses.\u201d \u201cBy the way, modern science has not fully confirmed the assertion that man originated from monkeys.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s irrelevant, the main thing is that we came from somewhere. According to our legends, we are created from the clay of a bird. Honestly, I would cross out all this and create people from Akhalteke.\u201d \u201cThen\u2026 what would we be like?\u201d They both introduced themselves as descendants of horses and laughed with pleasure. \u201cWe would get used to it,\u201d said Jasyn with a smile. They began to laugh at the appearance of monkeys. \u201cIt all depends on habit. Do you think monkeys, if they are able to think, consider their life worse than ours? Yes, they should only rejoice that they did not become people… But we\u2019ve deviated from the main topic…\u201d He again switched to a strict tone. \u201cI do not like well-fed people. Because the well-fed are always blind and deaf. Because they do not need art, the prospects of tomorrow, any changes in the world, digestion is more important for them. They need an apartment, a position, a personal car, and nothing else. They will go through life without feeling or experiencing anything and will leave life without noticing it. The most annoying thing is that the amount of such people hasn\u2019t decreased. There are those who, in order to rise higher, are ready to trample underfoot even the Koran, even Abai. I don\u2019t like being with people all the time. I\u2019m afraid to meet a thoughtless look, a head full of thoughts about consumption. I tried to look at myself critically, I thought that I did not have the average relationships with people. Unfortunately, I was not mistaken. I do not belong with well-fed people. At first glance, I noticed that you are different from them… This is what I was going to tell you today. You still don\u2019t know how far you stand from the cheap crowd that sleeps and seeks to settle down somewhere warmer…\u201d Bagila listened with special attention to these strange words of Jasyn, in which revelation and despair sounded. Never before in her life had she met a person who would say things the way he did… And all this was not invented this very second, but, apparently, it took shape a long time ago. She remembered how long she had been looking for him from the moment he left the compartment with the angry flash of his eyes, how, going out into the street, she saw him in everyone she met. And now she is sitting next to him… But, how strange, until that moment, as soon as she remembered him, she lost her peace, her heart was torn out of her chest, and now, for some unknown reason, she was calm and even, as if nothing had happened. This was a new experience for her, an absolutely amazing feeling. It was not only just the attitude of a girl to a man, but a sincere craving for an intelligent, thinking person. The new feeling gradually subdued the first \u2013 the feeling restlessness and discomfort. She suddenly felt joy because her mood was determined, and she wanted to tell Jasyn what she thought about him before this meeting, how she hated him and realised quite clearly that she could no longer be without him. She wanted to drink a full glass of champagne so that her head would spin, and her thoughts would lose their sharpness. They spent an hour in the cafe. The sky was cloudy, but the rain had stopped. The young birch trees growing near the cafe had not yet warmed up after yesterday\u2019s sleet and were freezing silently, without rustling their leaves. Two willows leaned over the empty pool, covering their concrete bottom with lancet leaves. Wet leaves crunched underfoot. They walked in silence. Bagila, chilled after the warm hall of the cafe, turned up the collar of her coat, put her hands in her pockets. Walking where it was drier, she strictly watched that Jasyn did not get very close to her. Bagila only now noticed that they were the same height, as if cut by the same sword. In her eyes, this was Jasyn\u2019s only flaw, she preferred the girl in a relationship to be shorter, even the same height did not suit her. \u201cMy shoes prop me up,\u201d she thought, as if trying to justify Jasyn. \u201cIt\u2019s seven centimetres, so I\u2019m below him. Great! After all, it\u2019s beautiful to be lower than a gentleman, this is a universal standard!\u201d She smiled and stealthily glanced at Jasyn\u2019s shoes. And his shoes propped him up as well\u2026 No more than five centimetres, she decided. That\u2019s only two centimetres. \u201cWell, whatever, I\u2019m still below him. Wonderful,\u201d she even shrugged her shoulders. \u201cWhat am I thinking about? What nonsense! I\u2019m walking next to him, and there\u2019s nonsense in my head…\u201d \u201cDo you have class?\u201d Jasyn asked when they went out along the alley of the park to the avenue. She paused and answered cautiously: \u201cI don\u2019t want to go. I\u2019m not in the mood for a lec- ture.\u201d \u201cDid meeting me have such a bad effect on you?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s the opposite… I want to calmly think, but it\u2019s noisy there, like in a bazaar.\u201d \u201cIf for each new thought you need to leave class, then… you will kicked out of university.\u201d \u201cNo, no!\u201d the girl laughed. \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid! They walked rather quickly along a free street and did not notice how they ended up a block from Bagila\u2019s house. \u201cYou notice,\u201d Bagila asked, slightly touching Jasyn with her shoulder. \u201cYesterday we managed to say a lot in a taxi, but today we were together for more than an hour and did not agree on anything. Why is that?!\u201d \u201cYou don\u2019t need to ask about it,\u201d Jasyn said, frowning his eyebrows. \u201cThat\u2019s what the heroines from sentimental stories say. The answer has been known for a long time.\u201d \u201cYou don\u2019t like sentimental things? \u201cI can\u2019t stand them.\u201d \u201cInteresting! And I thought…\u201d \u201cBagila,\u201d Jasyn stopped her. \u201cIndeed, what a disgusting name, exactly the name of a cheap caramel. Did you say that your aunt calls you Sur?\u201d \u201cYes,\u201d she answered curtly, pouting her lips. \u201cWell, it\u2019s not perfect, but it\u2019s better than your actual name. I will also call you Sur. So, Sur, can\u2019t you just keep quiet!?\u201d Bagila blinked rapidly, and her face burned with fire. She felt so ashamed and hurt that for a moment she even forgot where she was. \u201cCome on now,\u201d he said impatiently, not looking at her. \u201cSometimes there is more sense in silence than in endless chatter. In any case, when people are silent, the illusion of understanding each other is created.\u201d \u201cPeople are silent when they are alone,\u201d she said passionately, ready to burst into tears. \u201cWrong, absolutely not! In loneliness thoughts are vague, and when there is a person like you around, thoughts become stricter.\u201d The words \u201clike you\u201d instantly knocked down the flame of rage, and Bagila\u2019s soul instantly subsided, like a kitten under a gentle hand. \u201cHe\u2019s thinking about me!\u201d She exulted, losing her breath. \u201cSometimes he is soft, like a camel, and sometimes he beats like a twig. What an individual!\u201d They stopped at her house. \u201cLet\u2019s say goodbye. I asked you to stay with me for one hour,\u201d he looked at his watch, \u201cbut I took almost three hours from you. I beg your pardon.\u201d He handed her a business card. \u201cCall me if you need to. Feel free to do so at any time. And one other thing… Let\u2019s tone down on this \u2018love\u2019 nonsense.\u201d \u201cYou… your shameless! How dare you!\u201d \u201cSorry, but I noticed that you\u2019re treating me in a special way. Don\u2019t bother.\u201d Bagila cried. \u201cYou\u2019re so selfish! You like to mock, trample on the honour of a person! Go away. I don\u2019t want to see you.\u201d \u201cIt is not for such a smart girl as you to shed tears, to say stupid things in a fit of rage. Everything has to be looked at sensibly. In the moment, these words of yours are useless.\u201d \u201cGet out! Goodbye.\u201d \u201cIt never even crossed my mind that we would part like this. Don\u2019t be offended. I just said what I thought, and you decided that I\u2019m trying to mock you. Though that just isn\u2019t true. Anyway, good luck!\u201d Jasyn had already turned, took a few steps, but then stopped. \u201cTomorrow I\u2019m flying abroad. I\u2019m coming back in ten days.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t care where you\u2019re going and for how long you\u2019ll be gone!\u201d sobbed Bagila, stuffing her handkerchief into her purse. Noticing that Jasyn was not leaving, she took a step towards him. \u201cWhere are you flying to?\u201d Jasyn smiled softly. She saw warmth flicker in his cold eyes. \u201cTo Cuba. Together with a delegation of writers.\u201d \u201cHave a safe journey\u2026!\u201d \u201cThanks! Well then, should we say goodbye by hand?\u201d She gave him her hand and felt the warmth of his fingers. She held her palm in his palm, and it pierced Jasyn\u2019s heart. He winced and withdrew his hand. \u201cSee you later.\u201d Bagila nodded. Jasyn quickly walked away. Turning around, he saw that she was looking after him. She entered the apartment by opening the door with her key. In the living room, Oginsky\u2019s Polonaise blared at full power. It means Mancia is home. When left alone, she always listened to music, turning the radio on at full volume. Bagila changed her shoes and went to her room. At the open doors of the living room, she froze in disbelief. Mancia, clasping a puppet in a sailor\u2019s uniform with her unbending left hand, danced waddling like a duck. Her eyes were closed, her head lay on the doll\u2019s shoulders, but Bagila knew that Mancia\u2019s neck was simply twisted. She took clumsy steps, not keeping up with the rhythm of the music, it was especially noticeable because the prosthesis tapped on the floor out of time. A thin bluish jacket and tight jeans only emphasised her ugliness. Bagila could no longer look at the poor woman and quickly went to her room. There, she threw her bag on the table, she felt a leaden weight on her heart. After sitting idle in an armchair, she mechanically picked up a book, \u201cShadows in Paradise\u2026\u201d She remarked\u2026 Even since it\u2019s purchase, Bagila had no idea who the author was. The book opened with a crack, as if it had dried on a shelf. Bagila flipped through the novel unaccountably, unsticking the pages. She did not want to read. The Polonaise was still playing in the living room. From the minute Bagila entered the house, Mancia put on a record for the third time. And so, the dancing with the sailor doll continued. Soon the music stopped. Mancia could be heard putting the record into the envelope, turning off the radiogram and, loudly banging her prosthesis, moved into the kitchen. In the corridor she stopped, the wooden knocking stopped. A switch clicked by the hanger. Then Mancia went back. Bagila hurriedly buried herself in the book. When the door of her room banged open, she shuddered and looked up… Mancia looked at her with hatred. Bagila waited in horror… \u201cWell, did you see enough of how I enjoy myself?\u201d Mancia whistled, spraying white saliva. \u201cMance…\u201d \u201cShut up! Don\u2019t call me Mance! You have no right to this!\u201d \u201cI just came,\u201d Bagila whispered, not knowing how to extinguish her tantrum. \u201cYou\u2019re lying! Well, show me how many pages you\u2019ve read.\u201d She ran up to Bagila with surprising speed and snatched the book out of her hands. \u201cOnly the first page! So, you were following me!\u201d She threw the book on the table. \u201cI swear I just got here! I don\u2019t understand what you\u2019re talking about\u2026\u201d Bagila babbled. \u201cYou\u2019re lying! I touched your coat, it\u2019s already warm, here\u2019s your bag, it\u2019s warm too! You came a long time ago and watched me… You… You laughed at me, yes, you laughed! You\u2019re just pretending to read! Mrs. Gorgeous! All beauties like you are cunning and two-faced! I do not believe you! I hate you!\u201d Bagila was silent, trembling at every one of Mancia\u2019s movement. She did not begin to talk about the fact that she behaved quietly only because she was afraid to disturb her mood now it was impossible to explain anything to Mancia. Mancia, fixing her furious gaze on Bagila, stood for a while, then, biting her lip until it bled, she left, slam- ming the door loudly. Bagila breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the book again, even though she knew she wouldn\u2019t read it. From the page, Mancia\u2019s eyes full of rage and anger looked at her. She closed the book. On Sunday, Bagila had to involuntarily fulfil her promise to Serbota, and Bagila spent two hours with him. \u201cLika,\u201d she exclaimed cheerfully, entering the apartment. Malika was feeding the children in the kitchen. Hearing Bagila, she nimbly jumped down from her chair and hurried to meet her. \u201cWhy so fast? What, you quarrelled?\u201d \u201cOh, Li-ka-a!\u201d Bagila laughed, shaking her head. \u201cHow stupid men are! Do you know what he said to me?!\u201d She giggled a little. Malika, warning her, moved her chin towards Sargel\u2019s office. Bagila, as if saying \u201cOh, I completely forgot about him,\u201d covered her mouth with her palm. On tiptoe, they went to Bagila\u2019s room. \u201cAnd what did he say?\u201d Malika, with a curiosity inherent in a woman, bombarded Bagila with questions, as soon as they closed the door behind them. \u201cWe didn\u2019t say a single word until we reached the park and then we sat in silence in the restaurant. Only on the way back, once we reached the house, he suddenly says: \u2018Let\u2019s get married, Bagila.\u2019\u201d She giggled again, and Malika began to laugh with her. \u201cOh, so funny, my stomach hurts. He teaches at the university, writes his Ph.D. thesis, and he himself is like a child! Even schoolchildren don\u2019t talk like that anymore! Where did he manage to preserve himself so well? Hmm, \u2018let\u2019s get married!\u2019 Oh wow, he made me laugh!\u201d \u201cThough, what\u2019s wrong with that?\u201d Malika re- marked. \u201cHe\u2019s not the worst option. And if we talk about his naivety, then, quite possibly, it comes from his purity. Don\u2019t you think so?\u201d \u201cMaybe, but… he\u2019s in the thick of life. He hears, sees, reads and, despite this, does not even know how to talk to a girl. And then how can you say, \u201clet\u2019s get married\u201d on the first date?!\u201d \u201cAnd what was your answer?\u201d \u201cWell, what could I really say? I said he was late, I said I\u2019ll go and ask permission from my fianc\u00e9. I don\u2019t know how these words came out\u2026? I also laughed… Look, is it still worth it?\u201d Malika cautiously pulled back the curtain. \u201cIs he wearing a hat and a white coat?\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s leaving.\u201d \u201cPhew! God bless. I was afraid that he would stand there until morning.\u201d Malika, lowering the curtain, sighed softly: \u201cStill, it\u2019s a pity that this happens!\u201d \u201cIf it\u2019s such a pity, I can get him to come back. Just need to give him a shout…\u201d They laughed at the same time. Their laughter was interrupted by a loud doorbell. Malika, as if asking: \u201cWho\u2019s at the door?!\u201d, looked inquiringly at Bagila and went to open it. Sargel seemed to be equally interested in the sound, hands behind his back as he paced between the kitchen and the office door. As soon as Malika ap- peared in the corridor, he opened the front door. On the threshold stood a young man, no more than twenty years old. \u201cHello!\u201d he said, bewildered, encountering inquir- ing glances. Sargel nodded in greeting and pursed his lips. \u201cWho are you looking for?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d the guy was completely embarrassed. \u201cThere was… one person … my friend, who sent me to come to you.\u201d \u201cYou? To us?! Interesting,\u201d Sargel was surprised, looking first at Malika, then at the guy. Distrust of his wife had already flared up in him for a long time. \u201cWho is this friend of yours?\u201d \u201cA painter. A good artist…\u201d \u201cSo what does a good artist want with us? Does he want to paint our portraits?\u201d The guy, apparently, realised that he did not have enough endurance to continue this conversation, leaned an object folded into white paper against the wall. \u201cHe wanted to give you this picture. I don\u2019t think I got the wrong address… I\u2019m sorry to bother you,\u201d and the man ran down the stairs without waiting for an answer. Sargel and Malika looked at each other inquisitively. Malik perfectly understood the look of her husband, in which there was nothing new, except for stupid jealousy. \u201cAs if the things before weren\u2019t enough, now we have some idiots sending us gifts to our own home. Well, let\u2019s open it, let\u2019s see what\u2019s inside,\u201d said Sargel, arrogantly putting his hands behind his back. Malika went up to the picture and began to untie the packaging. From the way the nylon thread was skilfully tied, how clean the drawing paper was, how carefully the picture was wrapped, she realised that the unfamiliar artist did all this with a special disposition. Before them stood a large portrait in a gilded frame, dazzlingly shining in the electric light. It was a portrait of a beauty, painted with oil paints. At the bottom right were the artist\u2019s initials \u201cE. I.\u201d Sargel and Malika, not hiding their admiration, involuntarily held their breaths and looked at the picture. Deep, black eyes, like a moonless night, eyebrows raised, as if asking questions that were born in the figure\u2019s curly, charming head. And the look… This is how a person who has made a discovery looks. And to that person, this discovery, as if in the very next moment, is about to be told through the childish tender lips, the opening gleaming with dense snow-white teeth. This is what the artist saw. \u201cIt\u2019s… Bagel!\u201d Sargel yelled, recoiling from the portrait. A blush broke out on his lean, high-cheeked face, and he looked dumbfounded at Malika. \u201cDid you find out just now?\u201d \u201cI thought it was you…\u201d \u201cOh, what a disappointment that must be! Trust me, I would die of happiness if someone drew me like this…\u201d Sargel noticed how excited his wife was. \u201cHa!\u201d He looked furiously at Malika with sudden anger. \u201cThen let\u2019s invite this artist! This is the same guy who sent you half a litre at the restaurant on Medeo! Let\u2019s find him, and for good money he will paint you in any form.\u201d \u201cHe can\u2019t draw me like this…\u201d \u201cWhat do mean \u2018like this?!\u2019 What kind of portrait must he paint for you to die of happiness? Malika looked up at her husband for a moment. \u201cLike this one, exactly like this!\u201d \u201cBut that\u2019s Bagila\u2026!\u201d The words of her husband, uttered with obvious mockery, inflamed whirlwinds of rage in Malika\u2019s chest, but trying not to give herself away, she called on all of her self-control to help. \u201cSar,\u201d she said with a tremble in her voice, almost a growl. \u201cGo and check on the children for a moment. Go, for god\u2019s sake…\u201d She realised too late that the last words should not have been spoken. Sargel immediately went after them and yelped in a thin voice: \u201cWhy for god\u2019s sake?\u201d Malika, not finding worthy words, pathetically answered: \u201cThey\u2019ve been sitting alone for a long time…\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s the point in saying for god\u2019s sake?\u201d \u201cSar, for god\u2019s sake, go to the children,\u201d Malika repeated softly, never taking her eyes off the portrait of Bagila. \u201cGo on\u2026 you keep forgetting that pettiness wears out the nerves and ages a person prematurely.\u201d Old age… It was a blow to the most fragile place. It had nothing to do with him yet, but Sargel was terribly furious when he heard the words \u201cages\u201d from the lips of his wife, as if he was some \u201cold man.\u201d What Malika had said left him speechless and drove back down the words he was about to splash on his wife\u2019s head. He left, raising his head high, stepping as importantly as a crane. Once he reached the kitchen threshold he turned around and said, shaking his chin: \u201cThis daub better be gone before I wake up tomorrow!\u201d And slammed the door. The imperious voice of her husband, who firmly believed in his power, the impudent slamming of the door brought Malika to her limit. She stood for a while, mastering herself, then resolutely followed her husband. Sargel, who did not expect such courage from his wife, looked at her with dazed eyes. \u201cSar,\u201d Malik said clearly, determined to keep herself under control at all costs. \u201cYou know, I don\u2019t allow myself to argue with you in front of the children, but now I have to put you in your place, because everyone heard how you yelled at me. Okay, I\u2019m not going to burst like a soap bubble because of this. But remember, you shouldn\u2019t interfere in Bagila\u2019s personal affairs. She is not your daughter. In addition, she did not ask the artist to draw this portrait. So I\u2019m not going to carry out your \u2018order!\u2019 Got it! I understand that you can\u2019t bear to hear such words, but you\u2019ve got no other choice this time.\u201d Sargel put down the knife with which he had cut the children\u2019s pie with frightening slowness, timidly, without taking his eyes off Malika\u2019s face, he stood up and straightened up as heavily as if he had a heavy load on his shoulders. \u201cWho do you think you are?! You\u2026\u201d he muttered under his breath through his teeth. \u201cYes, it\u2019s all me, you\u2019re not mistaken! But that portrait should not be thrown away, it\u2019s just short-sighted decision. Imagine what Bagila will think,\u201d Malika said more gently, wishing, on the one hand, for reconciliation with Sargel, who stood frozen as a corpse, and on the other, a little wary of him. Sargel didn\u2019t say a word. Finally, after being frozen for what felt an eternity, life reappeared in his eyes. He put his hands behind his back and walked out. \u201cNow his heart will seize again,\u201d thought Malika with anguish. \u201cMaybe I shouldn\u2019t have pushed so hard? Oh, to hell with him, it\u2019s his own fault!\u201d She separated the children, who were grappling over some trifle. \u201cIf you\u2019re full, go to bed,\u201d she called out. \u201cYou won\u2019t be able to wake up tomorrow. Come on, get up from the table!\u201d After wiping the children\u2019s hands and mouths, she sent them to their rooms. \u201cLie down and no talking, alright!\u201d Seemingly understanding the mood of their mother, the children, pouting, silently began to undress. Malika went to Bagila. \u201cDid you quarrel again?\u201d Bagila asked, raising her head from her book. \u201cOf course, what else can I do with him!\u201d \u201cIs it because of me again?\u201d \u201cNo, because of the artist.\u201d \u201cBecause of what artist\u2026? Ah, did he remember our trip to Medeo.\u201d Malika smiled softly: \u201cLet\u2019s go into the corridor.\u201d Bagila, catching her slippers on the way, went after Malika. Seeing the portrait, she did not understand at first, and then arched an eyebrow. She raised her hands to her cheeks and her face flushed. \u201cSo, do you recognise the face? Unlike Sar, you fig- ured it out quickly. He thought that it was me,\u201d Malika said, watching how Bagila was stunned looking first at the portrait, then at her. Bagila came to her senses with difficulty. \u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s anything special\u2026\u201d she said un- certainly and with a tremor in her voice. \u201cHow is it nothing special?\u201d \u201cHe saw me once and immediately drew me… Shame on him, right Lika?\u201d \u201cYou didn\u2019t go to pose for him. Or did you…\u201d \u201cWhat are you saying?!\u201d \u201cThen there is nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, this is not your portrait, this is an artist\u2019s fantasy based on his fleeting memories! It\u2019s nobody\u2019s fault that you\u2019re stunningly beautiful. And your beauty is not your personal property, other people should also admire it. God created beauty for this… What do you know, maybe in a hundred years the portrait will be considered a masterpiece. Our descendants will know that in the seventies of the twentieth century a beautiful and intelligent creature lived on this earth.\u201d Bagila could not understand whether Malika was joking or serious, but her confusion dissipated. \u201cThat\u2019s why Sar and I didn\u2019t get along for a bit,\u201d Malika touched the painting with an imperceptible movement. \u201cHe is against portraits as a genre in fine art.\u201d She laughed through her teeth. \u201cWhere shall we hang it? In your room? \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cOkay. We\u2019ll think of something tomorrow. It\u2019s good that he drew you. If I had been painted, Sar would have hung me instead of the picture.\u201d \u201cLika, you don\u2019t have to argue with him all the time.\u201d \u201cOh! I can see you\u2019re starting to feel kindred feelings.\u201d \u201cI just feel sorry for him.\u201d \u201cOh my, aren\u2019t you merciful! Fine, today he\u2019s had enough on his mind, last thing he wants is to hear more from us. Take the portrait and put it in your room. If you don\u2019t want to look at it, cover it with a towel.\u201d Malika laughed again and, pushing Bagila towards her room, went to Sargel\u2019s bedroom. Sargel, without changing the position he had taken in the kitchen, stood by the unmade bed and looked out the window. Malika, as if nothing had happened, went to her bed and began to get ready for bed. Only then did Sargel turn his whole body towards her. His eyes were still bulging, as if he had not moved his eyelashes since that moment. Malika saw that he began to move, but pretended that she did not care at all, and got ready to sleep. Sargel moved around the bed- room like a clock pendulum, she did not hear when he started his next sermon. \u201cFrom the day of the creation of the world, after a man and a woman drank the cup of marital unity, they were obliged to live in peace and harmony under one frame, at one common hearth. Even if the moment comes to prove something, it is not done with their throat, not with anger and rage, otherwise a crack appears in the family, which becomes deeper in the future. I do not believe in equality and democracy between spouses, which is talked a lot about at the present time. The family should be dominated by one of the spouses. And where this is not the case, the family ceases to be a family. Equality and democracy are not grounds for the coexistence of representatives of the two genera, it can break like a glass vessel that has fallen on a stone, due to random contradictions, minor mistakes. Therefore, dear Malika,\u201d he continued, pacing back and forth and raising his voice at the word \u2018dear,\u2019 \u201cthere is no place for democracy in this house. That anger on your part, a violent invasion of me in front of the children, and even with a sharp jerking of the door, this is a mockery of the spouse. A woman in any situation must respect a man. Perhaps some women consider themselves smarter than their husbands, but, unfortunately, this wisdom is not confirmed by anything. On the contrary, if a woman is conscientious, she respects her husband, does not affect his honour…\u201d \u201cSar,\u201d Malika said as she settled under the cold blanket, \u201care you done with your lecture?\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d he didn\u2019t even look at his wife. \u201cAnd I\u2019m not lecturing you. Whether this conversation ends or not is up to you. If you understood everything I said correctly, then I\u2019m done.\u201d \u201cI understood everything.\u201d Sargel stopped walking, looked at his wife. \u201cThere is more anger in your voice than resignation. I do not believe you.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t make me grow old, Sar,\u201d Malika said in a velvety voice. Sargel\u2019s head twitched slightly, and he stared at his wife for a long time. \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d he began a new tirade. \u201cAll men…\u201d \u201cDrop it, for god\u2019s sake!\u201d Malika asked angrily. \u201cWho are these \u2018men\u2019 you\u2019re talking about? Men, men, men. What do you care about men?\u201d Sargel looked at her in furious surprise. Hypocrisy, together with anger, warmed the blood in his sclerotic veins, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. In the words \u201cWhat do you care about men?\u201d he heard \u201cyou are not a man.\u201d Besides, the wife said it calmly and weightily. So that means she had been thinking about it for a long time, and then the opportunity arose to say it out loud. And she said it… Coming to this conclusion, Sargel almost burned himself in his own fire, for the fire burned with might and main in him. In addition, his wife picked up a book in her hands with indifference, without being nervous at all, she opened the right page and, without paying attention to it, began to read! He choked with rage. Looking at his wife\u2019s calm, carefree face, at her half-exposed white breasts and sloping shoulders, he realised for the first time with all clarity that he could never defeat her, that no matter how much they grappled, defeat would always await him. And behind this painful confession, another fact slipped through… He is not a worthy match for this woman. He cannot offer anything worthy of her sharp mind and young strong body, which wants to live not in peace, but with passion. Such thoughts, which first appeared in his head, began to awaken new feelings in the recesses of his chicken breast. It seems that for no reason at all, he suddenly remembered his dead wife. But she was much softer and more submissive than this woman. She silently listened to him and did not read Dumas novels at night. Yes, she would not have swaggered, not puffed up arrogantly, like this one… She would have been silent as usual, and this is much better than the behaviour of this one… \u201cSo, she considers herself superior to me, it turns out that to her, I\u2019m no different to a wall, a chair. I scream, I get nervous, I prove something. What for?! What can I prove to her? The thing is, I\u2019m dependent on her, and she doesn\u2019t care. That\u2019s the point!\u201d These arguments were unbearable for Sargel, chok- ing with hatred and impotence, not wanting to stay near her, he went out into the corridor with an unfortunate air. \u201cBut it\u2019s such a trifle!\u201d he thought, standing in front of the window. \u201cIt\u2019d be shameful to tell others that someone else\u2019s portrait painted by some artist! Would be the reason for our divorce? For our family to split. It\u2019d be a delight to our enemies. That we are so petty we stumble over any kind of nonsense? Damn it, we are strangers to each other\u2026! And if I die?\u201d He winced at the thought. \u201cWill she even cry? No, she doesn\u2019t care!\u201d He saw his first wife again. Then his two adult children. His two sons who live on their own. Suddenly he realised that everyone had cooled off towards him a long time ago: the children singing in the next room, Malika… All of them can live without him, none of them need him, and if he dies, no one will be especially worried, no one will ask God to bring him back to this earth. And his friends and comrades are the same. And Karatai is no better, he only pretends to be worried about him. \u201cWhy is everything like this? What is the reason for this? Where are these people who cannot live without each other? Where are they? Why do I not see others dying because of the death of another?\u201d He felt like an orphan who did not have and will never have a single close person in the world. \u201cWhat is it? Why is it so dark in my eyes? Is it from old age? Perhaps this is how old age enters the human body. With this darkness, with such thoughts… Will the rest of my life really go like this?!\u201d Sargel again began to delve into his bitter thoughts, but quickly came to his senses. \u201cIt will not work,\u201d he said to someone with malicious gloating. \u201cThere is no use in these arguments. You have to be persistent. Yes… persistent… \u201c Feeling decisive, he breathed a sigh of relief and went to check on the children, from the children\u2019s bed- room, undressing as he went, he moved towards Malika. She slept, forgetting to put out the night lamp, dropping her book on the floor. He glanced over the body of his wife, showing through under the covers, and, to his happiness, did not pay attention to the fact that his male desire did not even stir in him. But some feeling nevertheless arose, and it was only enough to muffle the anger towards this sleeping woman. It was a frosty day in this harsh snowy winter. There was no one in the house. Bagila agreed with her fellow students to go to the library, there was still an hour and a half left before the appointed time. Loneliness, as you know, can lead human thought to the most unexpected turns, especially in a spacious, five-room apartment, crammed with beautiful, upholstered furniture and books that no one will ever read… She knew that Jasyn had returned long ago, but she could find a reason to talk to him. Several times Bagila went to the pay phone, tried to dial a number. But, having wound up three or four numbers, she began to breathe heavily, her face lit up with dry fire, and she jumped out of the booth. Staying alone in the house, she approached the home phone several times, standing on the bedside table in the corridor. But every time she is overcome by prickling shame. Dialling six numbers was beyond her strength. It seemed vicious enough to her already that she was approaching the telephone. And now, after much worry and conflicting thoughts, she went to the phone. She slowly raised the phone to her ear. A monotone low buzzing. The device worked flawlessly. She was ready to convey her voice to Jasyn in a matter of seconds. She dialled the first three digits calmly. On the fourth her hand trembled. She barely twisted the fifth digit, as if her finger had become a straw and was about to break off. There was one more left, the last one… She raised her index finger to the figure eight, the disk slowly spun… There was nothing to breathe. She closed her eyes as she heard long, intermittent beeps on the phone. One second, two seconds… Then something cracked dryly, and then a cold, indifferent male voice rang out: \u201cHello…\u201d Bagila couldn\u2019t open her mouth. \u201cHello!\u201d the man repeated irritably. \u201cJasyn!\u201d She gasped \u201cHello, what is it?!\u201d \u201cHello!\u201d Bagila blurted out, afraid that now he would hang up, and she would not have enough strength to call a second time. \u201cHey\u2026 What do you need?\u201d \u201cWhen did you arrive?\u201d \u201cA while back. Who is it?\u201d \u201cHave you… forgotten me? I\u2019m…\u201d \u201cWhat are you mumbling for! Who is speaking?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s… Bagila…\u201d \u201cAh, I remember… I wanted to call you, but there was always no time. Do you have business with me?\u201d Bagila hung up. \u201cDo you have business with me?\u201d Those words, like a jet of water, nearly knocked her off her feet. Her soul, for the umpteenth time, through his fault, fell, shattered to smithereens. She threw herself face down on the bed. \u201cDo you have business with me? How rude! Jerk! Why did I call him, why? I\u2019m so stupid! That\u2019s what I deserve. You are the one to blame! You wanted to hear his voice? There, you got it!\u201d She was awakened by the loud slamming of the front door in the corridor. Bagila recognised Sargel by the sound of his footsteps. She quickly moved to a chair and grabbed a book. The phone rang. Sargel picked up the phone. Bagila, remembering her skirmish with Mancia, tiptoed to the door and closed it. Sargel\u2019s footsteps were heard. He walked straight to her room. Slightly delayed at the entrance. The door opened cautiously. Bagila felt Sargel\u2019s sharp gaze on her back. Why is he looking at her like that? \u201cBagila!\u201d It was clear that he was about to call out to her, but she shuddered all the same. Trying not to look at his face, she half turned around. \u201cSomeone asking for you… At the phone,\u201d he said pointedly. Bagila shrugged her shoulders in surprise and walked past Sargel to the device. She could tell from his irritated voice and raised chin that Sargel didn\u2019t like the caller at all. \u201cHello,\u201d she said in a startlingly indifferent voice. \u201cIt\u2019s me. Are you offended again?\u201d \u201cJasyn! It\u2019s him! God! What do I say to him?!\u201d The thought raced through her head. \u201cDo you hear me?\u201d Asked a voice that was velvety and at the same time heavy as lead. \u201cI\u2019m asking, do you hear me?\u201d \u201cYes… What do you want?\u201d \u201cWho answered the phone?\u201d \u201cAre you calling to find out about this?\u201d \u201cSounds like a very nasty guy.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m not going to discuss my relatives with you.\u201d \u201cIt seems like every other person can be angry like you, it surprises me. Do you have free time tomorrow?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cFind some, please.\u201d He chuckled softly. \u201cI never begged anyone before. Weird…\u201d \u201cI have no time. Good luck!\u201d \u201cJust don\u2019t hang up the phone, they only do that in bad movies. So, tomorrow at exactly six in the evening at the Almaty hotel. Don\u2019t be late. Come. And then you can hate me for the rest of your life. Although you can hate me every second prior. Anyway, forgot to say hello!\u201d Bagila remained standing, holding the handset in her hand. \u201cHow confident! What a jerk! He thinks I\u2019ll run! But no, that\u2019s not happing!\u201d She thought. Realising that the conversation was over, Sargel left the office. \u201cBagila,\u201d he addressed in such an official tone, as if speaking at the court. \u201cMaybe you will be offended, but I will say this… Do not talk to this person anymore. He has no culture, no respect for people! He gets on a call with strangers, hears a man\u2019s voice in the receiver and does not even say hello. \u2018You want me to call Bagila?\u2019 And that\u2019s all. And his voice, what a horrible voice! So rude! You know what I mean?\u201d \u201cYes, I do!\u201d Bagila, like a child, nodded her head and, not being able to process all of the information, went to her room. Closing the door behind her, she remembered what Jasyn and Sargel had said about each other and smiled involuntarily. But the reason for this smile was still mainly Jasyn\u2019s call. He called her, and that is the most important thing in her life! The next day, at exactly six in the evening, Bagila stood in front of the Almaty hotel. After a long and heated discussion with Malika, it was decided that they should go on a date. The woman could not allow this story to continue. Oh, and it was him that invited her\u2026! The fact that he is married, he has children, Malika did not care. She was much more interested in the fact that Jasyn was inviting Bagila to the hotel. But, after thinking this way and that, they considered it a mere accident. During the discussion, they even burst into tears, admitting with tears that the life of a woman consists only of defeats, forgiveness and concessions. The fact that Bagila went on this date was the very first major retreat in her life and it was completely natu- ral for Malika, who simply could not imagine how you can pout when Madiev himself calls you! Having approached the entrance of the hotel, Bagila hesitated, not knowing what to do next, and then Jasyn appeared from around the corner, as if following her from the side (perhaps this was the case.) Eighteen years… This is quite enough time for a person to see the most diverse relationships between people, to be surprised, to despair, to hate and even to deteriorate. Bagila, meanwhile, looked with naive curiosity at this world, seeing only purity, the sun and a reason for sensual experiences. Of course, she had already dated guys more than once before and even kissed… But her meeting with Jasyn was her first real date, and her little heart had not found peace since yesterday, fluttering like a leaf in the wind. When Jasyn said hello, she barely answered him, she was out of breath. And only at that moment did Bagila have time to look at him and immediately quickly lowered her eyes. Not a trace of yesterday\u2019s pride was left, she now looked like a kid, trusting him to the point of stupidity. \u201cAh, she really likes me,\u201d thought Jasyn. \u201cLooks like she fell in love!\u201d He always stayed away from words such as \u201clove\u201d, \u201cfeeling\u201d and \u201cfidelity.\u201d In any case, he had not yet met people in his life who would prove to him the reality of these words, moreover, by nature he was prone to tough relationships, and these words pricked him like bristles. And he also hated people who used them often. He never read love poems, he noted with displeasure on Tolstoy\u2019s statements about love, about feelings, at the end of Dostoevsky\u2019s sentimental novel \u201cWhite Nights\u201d he nervously wrote: \u201cDoes he really believe in ideal people?!\u201d For every occasion in life, he had clear judgments. In particular, he firmly held to the opinion that romance and true love are an illusion, they confuse a person, interfere with an accurate understanding of life! He persistently cultivated this life psychology in his work. \u201cHis characters are not human. They are superhuman, devoid of human feelings,\u201d someone once criticised him. Others agreed, arguing that it was high time to look life straight in the eye. How long will humanity pay attention to the weaknesses of its individuals. Jasyn\u2019s works are a new realistic view of today\u2019s prose on life, his allies would say, and only predators and sentimental fools are afraid of this view. Jasyn, who is never lost for words, lingered a little and lost the words prepared for the meeting. \u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d he said somewhat embarrassedly, point- ing at the car waiting for them, he wasn\u2019t sure if she would follow him. Bagila did not resist, did not even ask where he wanted to take her. She followed him as if spellbound. Jasyn put her in the front seat, and he sat in the back. It was not in his mind to sit down like that, but it was as if someone had ordered him to stay away from the girl. \u201cPeculiar!\u201d he said to himself, closing the door behind her. \u201cIs this really happening to me?! No, it\u2019s impossible!\u201d They drove carefully along the icy avenue, he felt that he was still cramped. What was it? Is he really that lost in front of Bagila?! In addition, his speech, usually knocked down, harsh, collapsed like an old fence, and, most amazingly, for the first time in his life, his chest warmed when he looked at Bagila. In the thirty-one years of his life, of course, he knew women, and quite a few. Among them there were all sorts: seasoned and joyful, beautiful and not so much… But his heart had never beaten faster than usual. Every time it was the same thing — he subordinated the woman to himself, exercised over her the power of his desire, and that was all. He saw only what was before his eyes, nothing more. He wrote about it in a more complicated, more interesting way and the women were often offended by Jasyn, accusing him of god knows what. They loved him so much that as soon as he asked them to stop, they gave up… His sharp, thoughtful eyes, iron logic, bold reasoning stood out like a sore thumb, wherever he was: among historians, economists, linguists, archaeologists, artists and actors \u2013 the eyes of all the women around would rest on him. Many women demanded confessions of high love and thus caused bouts of irritable arguments. He believed that there are two qualities in a person that are born and die of their own free will, these are love and hatred, and to justify an ordinary connection with lofty words is the most primitive meanness. They came to the theatre and watched the tragedy of a foreign playwright. But it did not arouse any interest in Bagila. Since the start of her studies in Almaty, this was her third time going to the theatre, but for some reason she paid attention only to the acting. They talked about this during the intermission. After the performance, Jasyn got a taxi. Bagila sat in front, he sat behind again. And once more, she didn\u2019t ask where they were going. It snowed heavily yesterday, and it was difficult to drive. The car wobbled every now and then, for a long time its treads screeched on the ice at the intersections, unable to pick up speed. When they finally got out onto the straight avenue, Jasyn suddenly, without hiding his surprise, said: \u201cThis is the first time I\u2019ve met a girl like you.\u201d Bagila turned to him. \u201cHow come?\u201d \u201cAfter all, a person in this situation would ask where it is they are being taken!\u201d \u201cI already know. Why ask?\u201d Jasyn, stunned, was silent. Only after a while he asked apprehensively: \u201cHow do you know?\u201d \u201cYour phone number starts with 39…\u201d \u201cSo what?!\u201d \u201cAnd we\u2019re just approaching the area where phone numbers start like that.\u201d \u201cWith such observation,\u201d said the amazed Jasyn, \u201cyou should have entered the law faculty! Though to be fair, I don\u2019t really like it either, you have to really look after yourself in both!\u201d \u201cWhy is it like that?! You say, specialising as a histo- rian is not for me, making observation does not suit me, even my name doesn\u2019t suit you, how can I live on?\u201d She turned to him and smiled, raising her eyebrows questioningly. \u201cHow can you live on\u2026? As a standard of beauty, you can be taken under the protection of UNESCO and put in some cold museum.\u201d \u201cWhat will I do when I\u2019m old?\u201d \u201cThen you will stand as a model of aged beauty. But to be in clothes or not, this will be decided by the international commission.\u201d Bagila quickly forced the smile off her face and looked away. \u201cThanks for that, at least,\u201d she said, not concealing her resentment. This instantly flashing half-childish resentment, and eager pride, and the way she sat down, raising her chin, made Jasyn laugh, but he could not help but notice that at that moment she became even more beautiful. Having reached Jasyn\u2019s house, they got out of the car. Bagila did not really think about where and why he was taking her, but, having entered the entrance and stepped onto the stairs, she felt a tremor in her legs. \u201cHe\u2019s a stranger, after all,\u201d she thought, \u201cwell, of course, a complete stranger. And I followed him here like his tail. This is how you humiliate yourself. Who is at his house? What if his wife is here? How will I introduce myself? What will he call me? In a completely foreign house, in the middle of the night!\u201d \u201cI… I should probably leave,\u201d she said, stopping resolutely on the landing on the second floor. \u201cYes, I\u2019m not staying. Sorry…\u201d Jasyn looked at her, somehow suddenly embarrassed. \u201cI beg you, I can forgive everything,\u201d he said. \u201cIf you leave now, it will be a mockery of your trust in me and my pure attitude towards you.\u201d \u201cPerhaps,\u201d she whispered, moving her lips a little. \u201cWhere are we going?\u201d \u201cTo the fourth floor.\u201d \u201cLet\u2019s go then…\u201d There was no one in Jasyn\u2019s house except his father. The wife, having taken time off from work for a week, left with her children to go to a village for the winter holidays. His father, who was quite sick and old, was lying in the back room. Opening the door with his key, Jasyn pointed to the hanger, as if saying \u201chang your stuff up here,\u201d and then went to his father. \u201cWell, father, how are you?\u201d she heard. \u201cThank you, son, not bad,\u201d the father answered. \u201cIs there a letter from Sophia Loren?\u201d \u201cGod damn it, no.\u201d Bagila hung her sheepskin coat on a hanger, took off her boots and froze, not knowing what to do next. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you go?\u201d she heard again. \u201cI\u2019ll go if you give me travel allowances.\u201d Jasyn, laughing loudly, waved his hand to Bagila towards the right room. Bagila obediently went where she was directed. \u201cThere\u2019s a sly one!\u201d Now Jasyn\u2019s voice was heard more muffled. \u201cIt turns out that I have to pay travel expenses to your love?\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s the only way,\u201d said the father, coughing. \u201cWell then lie down. Perhaps Sophia Loren will come with Ma. Will you drink tea?\u201d \u201cNo. Later.\u201d \u201cWhat about coffee?\u201d \u201cWhy the hell would I want it. Do you want me to hoot like an owl all night?\u201d Jasyn laughed out loud again and went to Bagila, saying casually: \u201cAll right, if you need me, just call.\u201d Bagila, marvelling at such an unusual manner of communication between father and son, heard Jasyn in the hall taking off his outer clothing and boots. She looked around carefully, saw three shelves lined with books, and felt dizzy. She felt like a small helpless creature. \u201cIt\u2019s a mockery of oneself. Is it possible to read so much?\u201d she thought, experiencing wounded pride, since the owner of these books knew much more than she did. As soon as she had time to put her thoughts in order, Jasyn entered the room. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he switched on the bright ceiling light and the floor lamp, he reached the desk on the other side of the room, leaning on it and turning to face Bagila. \u201cForgive me,\u201d he said, looking at Bagila with a soft smile. \u201cI see how it is. And I thought he was your son-in- law,\u201d Bagila joked, referring to their manner of speaking. \u201cI have been talking with him like that for a long time… I am the first-born of that horseman. After all, as long as the grandfather is alive, the first child does not belong to the father. I was raised by my grandfather. Grew up in his arms. And after me, my father had two more girls who quickly jumped out to get married, and after them, Sophia Loren didn\u2019t give birth anymore. After the death of my grandfather, my father began to court me and eventually pulled me over to him. So, we play pranks on each other, like peers.\u201d \u201cWho is Sophia Loren?\u201d \u201cWhat do you mean who?! She\u2019s a famous film actress. But to us \u2013 it\u2019s nickname for the old woman that\u2019s married to my horseman dad.\u201d He laughed. \u201cShe, along with my wife and children, went to the village. That old woman is absolutely convinced that her grandchildren cannot move around the earth without her.\u201d \u201cWhy do you call her that?\u201d \u201cHa, we don\u2019t call her that just because! A long time ago, the real Sophia Loren came to Moscow when they were screening the movie \u2018Sunflowers\u2019. Then my father went to Moscow with me. We, along with several Kazakh writers, met the actress in the hotel we were staying at. My dad saw her too. When we came to our room, I asked my father: \u201cWell, did you like her?\u201d He waved his hand: \u201cAre you overeating donkey brains?! She\u2019s no better than my old woman. If you dress her properly, then Saparkul will easily surpass Sophie.\u201d I asked, \u201cWell, why don\u2019t a pay the bride a price and marry you to her? My dad flatly refused, too skinny, he said. Since then, we\u2019ve been calling my mother that anytime we\u2019re talking to him, just like you heard.\u201d Bagila laughed, a silvery chuckle. \u201cInteresting! No one in our family would even dream of saying that. Everything is in its place. The fa- ther is the father, the mother is the mother, the child is the child. And compared to everyone I know, moreover then not, the place of each family member is marked too clearly.\u201d \u201cIt is not necessary for such a hierarchy to exist in every family.\u201d Jasyn lit a cigarette. \u201cHow about dinner?\u201d \u201cNo need.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t want it either. Let\u2019s kill time. I really regret to lose those minutes that could of satisfied the stomach. We\u2019d better drink coffee.\u201d Jasyn went to the kitchen. Immediately there was the rumbling of a tap, the lid of the coffee maker rang, a lit match hissed. Then the doors of the refrigerator and cabinets slammed shut. Jasyn, smiling slightly, returned to the room. \u201cYou know\u2026\u201d he began to speak from the doorway and fell silent only to settle down in an armchair across from Bagila. \u201cA person spends half of his life eating and sleeping. Sometimes it seems to me that people are only created to eat their fill, sleep their fill and die. Sitting down at the table three times a day is almost crazy, but there are those who eat from morning to night. In my opinion, the almighty is a big egoist, he only thinks about himself. If you read the Bible and the Koran, then you might think that both God and Allah created man solely out of condescension. Is that so? God created man for his own pleasure. Tired of idleness, he invented man out of boredom, and, as if not finding a more normal planet in the universe, he settled us away from other worlds on a planet called Earth. People, like busy ants, began a collective existence. And although they were given a limited time to live, although they buried each other by the thousands, their existence seemed to them eternal, like that of the almighty. They surrendered and are surrendered to the meaningless everyday life. This is beneficial to the creator. Looking at our lives, he dies of laughter, he always has a merry spectacle. If not for us, he would have dried up from boredom long ago. Still, the creator\u2019s fantasy worked well. Well done to him!\u201d Jasyn smiled bitterly. Bagila did not understand who he was laughing at, at God? At humans or at himself? Suddenly, she became afraid. She had never seen a man who would say nasty things about god. And now therewas one sitting opposite her, smoking a cigarette with might and main, and blasphemed not only humans, but also the creator. She didn\u2019t read either the Bible or the Koran, she didn\u2019t think about god at all, but still she was creeped out… Okay, maybe that\u2019s just Jasyn, what about his father?! Like his son, and he also joked about Allah in a conversation with his son. She met with Jasyn only for the second time. During this time, she\u00a0 \u00a0managed to hate him several times, forget this hatred and yearn several times… From any word that Jasyn said, even from his mechanical glance, she lost her head, as if from a sip of champagne, and immediately realised how petty and notorious she was. If they meet, how many more times will she have to boil, cool down, cry and laugh? Bagila subconsciously felt that it would be more than once or twice. \u201cOkay, let\u2019s stop this conversation,\u201d said Jasyn, pressing the cigarette butt into the ashtray. \u201cHow long can you be with me?\u201d \u201cZero minutes,\u201d she said, dispersing the thick tobacco smoke with her hand. \u201cBecause I should be home by now. Moreover, I allowed the time allotted to me to overrun by two hours.\u201d \u201cOh, thanks!\u201d Jasyn said embarrassingly, opening the window. \u201cNot for the frankness, but for the resourcefulness.\u201d \u201cDo you like to speak beautifully?\u201d \u201cNo, no so much. But I\u2019m not against beautiful turns. Words, you know, determine the biggest events in the world: from peace to war… Excuse me, it seems that the coffee has boiled?\u201d Jasyn moved hastily to the kitchen. He brought coffee on a tray according to all the rules of serving and put it on a low table that stood between their chairs. \u201cI understand,\u201d he poured the coffee into cups, \u201cyou were brought up in a completely different environment. Everything that I say and do, even the fact that I brought you to my house, may seem rude, unnatural to you. But I\u2019m not going to fit in with everyone. Any person cannot be satisfied with absolutely everything, even the almighty is far from always being satisfied. Is that not the case? But let\u2019s leave god alone for a moment. The most important thing is to correctly understand the meaning of your deeds and words. Everything else is secondary in priority, so to speak, the technical side of existence…\u201d \u201cYes, you say and do a lot differently than everyone else,\u201d said Bagila, taking a sip of coffee. \u201cDon\u2019t be offend- ed by this but… Do you love your wife?\u201d Jasyn chuckled but didn\u2019t answer. He looked straight at Bagila. Again, she could not stand the sharp, cold look and, as if afraid of burning her eyes, instantly lowered her eyelashes and began to fuss. Bagila\u2019s cheeks blushed, biting her lips, she began to twist the cup in front of her with thin long fingers. \u201cWhy did I even come here? Indeed, why?\u201d She asked herself, not knowing where to hide from the awkwardness \u201cWhy do I feel so uncomfortable? Maybe I really was raised wrong?\u201d She was ready to burst into tears. \u201cIf it turns out that I\u2019m wrong — that means I\u2019m not like him?! But does everyone have to be like Jasyn? Of course not, that\u2019s stupid! I should tell him all this and leave this house. Now, immediately!\u201d \u201cOkay, okay, I\u2019ll answer you,\u201d Jasyn suddenly said, completely startling Bagila. \u201cYou most likely wanted to ask something different, something like: why did I invite you here\u2026? I didn\u2019t have any ulterior motive and still don\u2019t. I just wanted to talk to you in this setting. I don\u2019t know why, but maybe I do… Understand me correctly, you are like a degenerate falcon, and it hurts me that you, along with the ravens and owls, are flying around in the same grey flock as everyone else. In order for a person to become a person, only a natural gift is not enough for them, everything depends on the environment in which they are located. Remember this, otherwise I wouldn\u2019t be talking to you. How about some more coffee?\u201d \u201cHow many years is your father older than you?\u201d Bagila asked harshly. From an unexpected question, Jasyn straightened up in his chair. \u201cExactly as much as he is older.\u201d \u201cYou seem to have confused adults with children. You talk to your father like a small child, but to me like an old woman.\u201d Jasyn froze, staring at her. His cold eyes warmed up, he enjoyed what Bagila said, and did not hide it. They fell silent. Jasyn was not going to answer the question. For no apparent reason, he suddenly began to think that life passes like a summer downpour, and that the great \u2018time\u2019 quietly steals life from everyone from the moment of their birth. When they are barely conceived, these creatures begin to age. For the first time, he felt that one of the main thefts of time was tenderness and love for a woman. No, he is still strong and can take over the heart of anyone, and hers too… Let five, ten years pass, he still will not grow old, if necessary, he will live without paying attention to women, without love for them. Jasyn\u2019s soul was disturbed by an unexpected discovery: in the thirty-one years of his life, it turns out that he had lost one of the main qualities of a person to love carelessly, without worrying about anything… From this thought, Jasyn felt anguish, he began to lose what is irreplaceable… But then another thought flashed: \u201cYou still have a lot to lose, so don\u2019t despair.\u201d Rising, he went to the window and parted the curtains. \u201cLook, it\u2019s snowing,\u201d Jasyn said quietly with a sort of bilious bitterness. Bagila approached him. As on that autumn day, when they walked side by side from the cafe, this time she was strictly making sure, that god forbid, she does not touch Jasyn. \u201cYes, snow… It\u2019s falling in flakes.\u201d Jasyn looked at the snowfall, smiling imperceptibly at Bagila. \u201cBe a little quite will you. I have a feeling that you have completely exhausted me,\u201d he said. \u201cAgain, with this\u2026\u201d Bagila said offendedly, not understanding how she could be exhausting him. Jasyn stood with his hands in his pockets and spoke as if he hadn\u2019t heard her threats. \u201cAnd in the world, it is snowing quietly, carelessly,\u201d he said as if to himself. \u201cEveryone is busy with their own lives. Nobody cares about each other. See that eight-story building over there? How many people, how many destinies are in it… Everyone who lives there, has someone they love, someone they hate. Some are scurrying about in the kitchen, others are withered in front of the TV, others are in the bedroom… Look, what an interesting picture: there is a young woman in swimming trunks and a bra opening the curtains, but they should have been closed…\u201d Bagila looked at the woman and lowered her head. \u201cAnd tomorrow they will all scatter around like ants from a fire. In the evening, they\u2019ll go home… They will cook dinner, eat it and go to bed. And rightly so, you need to take a break, because tomorrow you will run again. Each of them has children, big and small. Every- one strives to achieve something, fights with someone, suffers defeat from someone. And here, you see, the snow is falling as if nothing had happened. It seems to be stupid, but at such moments I feel especially keenly how small we are and how great nature is. Whether you die or are born, it snows no matter what\u2026 What do you think of that?\u201d He half turned to Bagila. \u201cYou ordered me to be quiet, and I am silent. You won\u2019t hear another word from me.\u201d \u201cAh! Again, you pout like a little child! Damn it, was it really impossible to notice the importance of the moment! However, it\u2019s good that you didn\u2019t notice. Well, are you going home?\u201d \u201cYes. And immediately.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll walk you out. They\u2019re probably missing you at home and are going scold you for what the world is worth.\u201d He helped put on her sheepskin coat, gave her boots. And when she came to the door, he realised that while she was there, he felt better than ever, and now, as soon as she leaves, the emptiness and bile that have been eating him up lately are rising up again. He took her in a taxi to her house. He shook her hand in farewell. When she shook his hand, he suddenly leaned over and kissed her fingers, hot and dry. Bagila carefully released her hand and slowly slipped on the glove, blushing crimson with shame. It was unbearable for both of them to be silent, and Jasyn said: \u201cYou know what, I still don\u2019t like your name.\u201d \u201cIs that what bothers you the most?\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s it… Nothing worries me as much as that.\u201d Jasyn somehow grinned pathetically. \u201cWell, all the best. God bless, see you later.\u201d He walked sideways to the car, sat down, slammed the door, and the taxi rolled down the dark street, splattering wet, dirty snow with its tires. The next year, in the summer, Sargel finally defended his dissertation. Having achieved the coveted title of Doctor of Science, he calmed down and threw a banquet. Everyone who took part in calming him down was invited, some leaders of higher education, the entire department, and close relatives came. A special invitation was sent to Karatai by courier (Sargel liked this idea very much: to send a person with his letter to Karate, and he did not stint, giving one of his young relatives \u201ctravel allowances\u201d in both directions). Besides that, Sargel called Karatai twice, asking with exaggerated solicitude if anything would harm his arrival. Karatai never learned to refuse those who were unpleasant to him, especially relatives, and although he had enough work, which could serve as a worthy reason not to go, he went to Sargel\u2019s banquet anyway. Since Karatai appeared in Almaty, his friend from the Ministry of Higher Education ended up behind Sargel\u2019s table for the second time, which made him delighted to the point of madness. But, given his position and the delicacy of the situation, (Sargel, Karatai and he knew the \u201chistory\u201d of the doctoral\u2019s attainment very well) he asked through Karatai to gather a narrow circle with his participation. Sargel, seeing that his fellow workers continued to discuss his brilliant attainment in astonishment, breathed a sigh of relief when his benefactor asked for privacy. Last year, after a warm conversation with the rector, who did not forget his promise to talk with Sargel in more detail after returning from abroad, Sargel, taking advantage of the arrival of Karatai, invited him to a meeting with the rector and a person from the ministry — all with their wives \u2013 who came to visit, and everything was decided in his house. Sargel was very pleased with the weight of Karatai behind this venerable table, his mind, and his wise words. This meant that Karatai\u2019s participation would lead to sure luck. True, after that evening, Sargel still had one caustic feeling, which then sharpened him for a long time. Twice he noticed how the rector, who was a dozen years younger, exchanged glances with Malika several times, joked with her, and that damned wife answered him with a smile. Now by inviting the rector to the banquet, Sargel suffered a lot, but decided that his favour was much more valuable than Malika\u2019s smiles… Having compiled the list of guests, Sargel deliberately did not enter the rector\u2019s name on it and let Malika to look through the list. Malika realised in no time that Sargel could not just forget the rector, it was tantamount to the end of the world, and that this \u201cforgetfulness\u201d hides petty deceit. She carefully studied the list for a long time and demonstratively returned it to Sargel, saying: \u201cThat\u2019s right, you haven\u2019t forgotten anyone.\u201d Sargel became suspicious again: \u201cShe said that on purpose. So, she has something to hide from me. That cursed womaniser, he\u2019s no leader!\u201d \u201cHow could you forget!\u201d he exclaimed, not taking his eyes off his wife. \u201cAnd what about the rector? I can\u2019t believe you! \u201cOh god!\u201d Malika rolled her eyes. Then she shook her head and decided to settle accounts with Sargel for his petty cunning. \u201cHe\u2019s a fine man! Soft, playful! It is imperative we call him, he\u2019ll come with an adorned company.\u201d An electrical shiver ran through Sargel\u2019s hide. \u201cWell, since you\u2019re asking like that, you should call him,\u201d he said significantly, filling every word with fog. He wrote the rector\u2019s name in block letters and put a dot in such a way that the paper under the pen burst. Then he threw the pen on the table, lifted his chin, sticking out his throbbing Adam\u2019s apple, and putting his hands behind his back whilst leaving the house. At the banquet they sat like two enemies, watching each other with unblinking eyes dry with hatred. At the general banquet held at the table sat Karatai, who in two days of fuss in Sargel\u2019s house, managed to resolve all the necessary issues in the city. After paying homage at Sargel\u2019s house, he took Sargel, Malika, and his daughter to the mountains. He wanted to be with his eldest, and at the same time Karatai decided to see how and in what direction her life had gone during her stay in the big city. They had a light lunch in an open restaurant, once again celebrating Sargel\u2019s doctorate. July was blazing in the mountains. It was impossible to sit in one place for a long time, and they decided to climb a slope overgrown with fir trees. \u201cHow nice!\u201d exclaimed Karatai as he reached a tur- bulent stream that eroded a rocky slope, he sat down on a warm stone. \u201cAt least for the sake of this you should come to Almaty more often,\u201d Bagila said jokingly, grabbing her father by the neck. \u201cIf only I knew about this stream!\u201d Karatai laughed, and everyone followed him, laughing sincerely and nonchalantly. Sargel also laughed, as Malika would put it, com- pletely in sync with Karatai. \u201cDad! Why are you making a girl out of me!\u201d Bagila pouted capriciously. \u201cI\u2019m not a child after all!\u201d \u201cWell, do we really have to speak officially!\u201d Karatai kissed his daughter on the cheek. \u201cYes, let\u2019s talk officially! Every Soviet person has the right to work and rest. And you do not obey these consti- tutional rules. How can you violate the Constitution and rule the whole area! If you work with people, you should find time for this position of nature, however, they do not talk about it at regional assets and the connection between the murmur of the stream and the increase in the number of sheep has not yet been established. All that so you can work without rest\u2026\u201d Bagila burst out laughing and rushed to kiss her father. \u201cWell, give up, daddy? \u201cThat\u2019s it, daughter, you\u2019ve got me by the tail.\u201d \u201cSur,\u201d interrupted Malika. \u201cLeave your father alone, let him rest, really. And then I\u2019ll be offended if you, Karatai, forgot that I\u2019m here!\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Sargel hurried, shaking small stones out of his boot. \u201cLet her talk to her father.\u201d \u201cWhat did you say?! What does it mean \u2013 \u2018Sur\u2019, \u2018Sar\u2019?\u201d Karatai asked, raising his eyebrows. \u201cSur means painting, and Sar means Sargel.\u201d Malika quickly kicked off her sandals and dipped her feet into the icy water. Karatai chuckled and laughed heartily. \u201cWell, Malika, your imagination is boundless! Maybe you can think of something like that for me too?\u201d He wiped his tears from laughter and looked with pleasure at Malika\u2019s feet, white in the mountain water. Malika instantly caught this look, raised her legs from the stream, waited for the water to drain, and reached for her sandals, forgetting about her short dress… That was a strong blow! Sargel swallowed the mountain air like pieces of ice: he simply could not watch Karatai laugh. Then Bagila came up with the idea of picking strawberries in the thicket. Here they dispersed, and she was left alone with her father. \u201cDad, remember last year, when we were travelling here, you kicked a guy out of the train compartment?\u201d Karatai, carried away by the search for berries, unbent, thought and shook his head negatively. \u201cWell, how could you forget! Such a thin guy, with long hair… We were traveling in a two-seater compartment. Remember?\u201d \u201cAh! Yes, I remember something like that. Indeed, I cast out some idiot.\u201d \u201cYou didn\u2019t cast him out but kicked him out like a puppy.\u201d Karatai carefully looked at his daughter: \u201cAnd what?! Why are you talking about it?\u201d \u201cBecause that jerk is a famous writer. His name is Jasyn Madiev. Did you know that?\u201d Karatai threw the berries under his feet, took out a handkerchief and thoroughly dried his hands. \u201cThe first time I\u2019ve heard of him. Madiev? No, I don\u2019t know him… So, what about it?\u201d \u201cNothing special. I just wanted to tell you that that young man turned out to be the most popular writer today.\u201d \u201cWhat a disaster!\u201d Karatai smiled benevolently. \u201cIs he really the most popular?\u201d \u201cDaddy, don\u2019t you feel sorry that everything turned out like it did?\u201d Bagila, trying to hide her mood, kissed her father coquettishly. \u201cWhat\u2019s there to be sorry about?\u201d Karatai asked, changing to the tone he used to speak with Jasyn. \u201cI don\u2019t know him, and I don\u2019t want to know him.\u201d \u201cBut you don\u2019t know any of writers…\u201d \u201cBagila!\u201d Karatai stopped his daughter with a shout. \u201cYou studied in Almaty for only a year and, apparently, decided that you could argue with me?! I have other knowledge and a different position. A real father always brings up a child in such a way that they respect what\u2019s being said! So stop with this nonsense!\u201d Bagila bit her tongue. She didn\u2019t want to talk to her father about that guy anymore. Such an angry reaction from her father fell like a shadow on her soul, Karatai quickly understood this and stroked his daughter on the head. \u201cDon\u2019t be angry with me,\u201d he said so that Bagila wanted to cuddle up to her father and cry. \u201cThere are too many people in this world who are angry with me. Don\u2019t be one of them.\u201d Bagila sighed convulsively, a barely perceptible chill to her father remained. She knew: her father would never be different; it was too late for him to change. Until the end of his days, he will be so tough, self-confident even when he is completely wrong. Thinking about it, she felt sorry for him. In the evening, Karatai presented Sargel with a thousand rubles in honour of the attainment, had a quick dinner and flew home. PART TWO On New Year\u2019s Eve, Sargel received his Ph.D. He was convinced that after defending his dissertation, all the scientists of Almaty stopped their work and were only concerned with ensuring that the attestation commission did not approve his doctoral thesis at all costs. Sargel informed Karatai about all the insidiousness of his colleagues both in letters and by phone. At the last conversation, Karatai broke loose and, unexpectedly even for himself, shouted at his brother. Sargel drooped for several days, as if struck by a knife. He muttered that the end of the world had come, and his affairs were rubbish. All night, not knowing sleep, he paced along the worn old parquet between the kitchen and the corridor. Listening to the creaking of the floorboards under her husband\u2019s feet, Malika noted: \u201cKitchen, kitchen — corridor.\u201d These home walks of Sargel led him to a wild decision. He made a dash for Moscow. But apparently, there was no one in the attestation commission who would have met him with an enthusiastic exclamation \u201cO dear Sir Sargel!\u201d Sargel returned home emaciated, with deeply sunken eyes. On ordinary days, he looked at people with distrust, walked, taking on a dead weight of jealousy and bile, and after this incident he completely lost his peace. \u201cYou don\u2019t pity me, it doesn\u2019t matter to you,\u201d he repeated whiningly at home. \u201cThey don\u2019t want me to become a doctor because they envy me. They all enter my house with curiosity and leave with envy. All of them are enemies, everyone! In our time, there can be no friends, everyone wants to snatch things for themselves, only for themselves! I don\u2019t trust anyone. How can I trust others if my own thoughts are against me?! My wife, that\u2019s right? A man\u2019s first enemy is his wife!\u201d Malika knew well that a man can speak out of malice, sinking lower than a woman. And if you show restraint, wait a little while, the reckless anger recedes, he will again become a man. But the external state of Sargel was not like a mountain river, as if throwing stones; his character from birth was not bubbling, but quietly, stinkingly spiteful, falling asleep all around with the ashes of mute hatred. She stopped arguing with her husband, went to work early in the morning and, under any pretext, returned late. Sargel, as before, met her with an incredulous look, humiliating questions, demanded, frowning his eyebrows: \u201cStop, please!\u201d And suddenly he received a rebuff, which plunged Sargel into confusion. He saw with fear that Malika would stop at nothing if he brought her to a white heat. These dreary unpleasant days were left behind, they were preparing for the New Year holiday with special enthusiasm. \u201cMalika,\u201d Sargel said to his wife when they had established a good relationship and he was lying next to her. \u201cThis New Year is special! We\u2019ll meet it at the doctor\u2019s house. Remember that!\u201d \u201cAh, damn it!\u201d Maliki said to herself. \u201cLook at that, what a braggart! We know very well how you became a doctor. Rewrote the history of three districts in ten years \u2013 it\u2019s all you. Who else needs it? What is this writing for? You went only twice to the districts and was afraid to leave the house, always jealous of me. And that\u2019s supposed to be science!\u201d \u201cOf course, we will meet it properly,\u201d Malika agreed indifferently, tired of arguing with her husband. Returning from work in the evening, Malika saw that Sargel was pale, with the look of a lonely poor fellow, he was sitting on the sofa in front of the wide-open doors. Malika immediately realised that no matter how picky Sargel got, before the holiday, especially before the \u201cdoctor\u2019s New Year,\u201d he would not turn pale because of some trifle. So, she expected a big fight. She deliberately undressed for a long time, trying to guess what awaits her and what she needs to be ready for. Putting on light slippers, she moved to the kitchen, doing her best to ignore Sargel, but as soon as she crossed the threshold, she was stopped by a sharp cry: \u201cMalika!\u201d Turning around, she looked at her husband in exaggerated surprise. \u201cDon\u2019t be in a such hurry, I\u2019ve had enough of that morning salad,\u201d Sargel said, suddenly switching to a more formal tone. \u201cThat salad is the epitome of a culinary blunder, it was prepared quickly, thoughtlessly and completely tastelessly. This only confirms my suspicions. Much to my regret!\u201d Sargel stood up with solemn sorrow. \u201cSit down here,\u201d he pointed to the sofa from which he had just risen. \u201cSar, for god\u2019s sake, tell it like it is, or I\u2019ll get up and leave,\u201d Malika could not stand it, fussing on the edge of the sofa… \u201cI lost my appetite because of you, but not for this reason, do you think that before such a special holiday, I wanted to have this conversation? Of course not! The point today is…\u201d \u201cFor god\u2019s sake, keep it short. You\u2019re not in a meeting!\u201d Sargel did not listen to Malika. He steadily continued his speech. \u201cWhat I discovered does not fit in with virtue and honesty in the relationships of people, especially spouses, whose unity is determined by mutual honesty and dependence…\u201d \u201cSo?\u201d She felt like she was going crazy. \u201cSo, dear Malika,\u201d he lifted his chin, clearing his throat, \u201cI finally found irrefutable proof of my suspicions.\u201d Malika\u2019s heart skipped a beat, but she, without showing any sign, raised careless eyes to her husband. \u201cThis cigarette butt is the proof!\u201d Sargel said, opening his palm, showed Malika a Medeo cigarette butt. \u201cI remember well the last time you smoked in this house, it was a long time ago, but this cigarette butt was completely fresh. So, you smoked it in the house when I was in Moscow. But was it really necessary to throw the cigarette butt under the sofa?! What a lack of respect, what stupidity!\u201d Malika sighed in exasperation. Well, that\u2019s exactly what she was afraid of. While Sargel dangled at the capital, she, Bagila and Jasyn went out to a restaurant in Koktyube. It was there that Malika met Madiev. She took a liking to him immediately. He immediately fascinated Malika with his con- cepts, his pure assessments of people, his mind-blowing education, she had never even heard of such a person before! Well, it\u2019s necessary to have your own opinion on any issue, to speak so freely, easily, raising yourself above the vanity of life. Yes, she was infinitely far from him! \u201cWhy aren\u2019t all people like him?\u201d she thought then. \u201cWhy? Well, maybe not all, but at least half, maybe one quarter of people could be like Jasyn. Why are they too lazy to rise a little higher above themselves, why do they love a grey monotonous life?\u201d She mentally compared the best men she knew with Jasyn and laughed involuntarily. As soon as they left the restaurant, Malika really wanted to express her affection for Jasyn, to somehow prolong such a wonderful evening, and she invited him into the house. Everything was wonderful! However, one thing was not good: after Jasyn\u2019s departure, she felt completely illiterate. Malika became bitter. She understood well that between them lay a gigantic abyss that she could never overcome. But no matter what happened, she would not hesitate to rush to him, but as soon as Malika began to think about it, Bagila appeared before her. That evening, while cleaning up after a guest, Malika accidentally spilled the ashtray. Then, shutting her bedroom door tightly behind her, she wept for a long time in bed because she had never yet had the good fortune to live at least a minute as she liked, because she was now forever deprived of the right to choose where her life should go. She was crying, angry that women\u2019s happiness is completely different from men\u2019s, that one take-off is not enough for a woman to become happy, and that a woman\u2019s happiness is so dependent on a man. Now, seeing the cigarette butt in Sargel\u2019s palm, she shuddered, she remembered that hard night… For a normal person, something as stupid as a cigarette butt could not become a reason for a quarrel, and it\u2019s even a shame to talk about it. But to Sargel, oh, to him, there was a lot of meaning behind it! This means that there was a man in the house, a man during his absence! Which means that in the house, his house, there was a secret meeting between that man and his wife! She was left with two options: either admit any accusation or repeat \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d Looking down at the cigarette butt in Sargel\u2019s palm, she shook her head, shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t understand anything,\u201d Malika said, as if inviting her beloved Sargel to reveal the secret together. \u201cOh yeah? And I understand everything!\u201d Sargel clutched the priceless cigarette butt in his palm. \u201cNow everything will be clear to you. Ertai, hey, Ertai! Well, come here!\u201d Understanding her husband\u2019s move, Malika, unable to restrain herself, jumped up from the sofa. \u201cBastard!\u201d she thought furiously. \u201cHe got everything out of the kids! Damned old man!\u201d Seeing their parents\u2019 offended faces the children entered the living room, Malika realised that Sargel probably shouted, scared them with god knows what, maybe beat them to find out how everything was. Seeing their mother, the children involuntarily moved towards her, but Sargel stopped them. \u201cErtai, repeat everything that you recently told me. Is it true that some uncle came to us?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s true.\u201d The boy lowered his head. \u201cTell me everything!\u201d \u201cThe uncle sat for a long time. And mum too. We were late for kindergarten the next day.\u201d \u201cWell done! Now go to your room!\u201d \u201cWell, what objections do you have?\u201d Sargel asked sarcastically, leaning towards his wife. \u201cNone,\u201d Malika answered decisively, seeing that nothing could be corrected. \u201cThere is no other way out except for the recognition of the divorce.\u201d Sargel listened with his head on his shoulder and his eyes wide. \u201cNo, dear citizen, marriage is not your private affair alone,\u201d he shook his finger. \u201cI will write a statement because the crime was committed by you. You, and not I, committed treason, you were the one who was morally wrong,\u201d he raised his voice \u201cIt was you, not me!\u201d \u201cTo hell with you. Write your statement. Write it right now. You know how to write; you are a doctor!\u201d She sighed wearily and folded her face in her hands. \u201cAt this age, it is certainly not easy for me to lose a wife for the second time,\u201d Sargel\u2019s voice suddenly trembled. \u201cHow will I face the public! What will be the fate of these two children! I can\u2019t stop thinking about it, I don\u2019t have a heart of stone. But there is also honour, con- science, and these circumstances are above all. In order for people to understand who is really to blame, I will write about everything openly. Of course, no one saw you in bed, but the appearance of a man in the house when the husband is away is\u2026! Let\u2019s just say, I am in no hurry to find out what happened, we can find out in court!\u201d Malika saw more and more clearly that things were taking a sharp turn. She realised that if Sargel was not stopped, then a big drama would eventually arise due to a cigarette butt, Bagila would be disgraced, and Jasyn would lose his family. \u201cSar,\u201d she pleaded. \u201cI\u2019m not afraid of anything. If I tell everything as it was, will you calm down then?\u201d \u201cIf you intend to repeat Bagila\u2019s little tale, then don\u2019t bother, it\u2019s a waste of time.\u201d \u201cWhy? Is she home?!\u201d \u201cEveryone is home. There were three women here in my absence, and all three are here now. But Mancia doesn\u2019t know anything, you didn\u2019t take her into your company. You needed intimacy!\u201d \u201cMancia is closer to me than to you, but you know her character, she avoids everyone.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s not what we\u2019re talking about,\u201d said Sargel, lifting his chin again. \u201cSo, who is this person? Speak!\u201d Sargel stopped looming around the room, resting his hands on the table, he hovered over his wife, tuning his ears to what she\u2019s about to say. \u201cA man shouldn\u2019t be doing this sort of thing\u2026 We\u2019ll just be harassing Bagila. Aren\u2019t you ashamed!\u201d \u201cInteresting! It is not shameful to drag men into my house, but it is shameful to say who it was?! So, who was he? State his name, surname and position. Maybe I\u2019ll believe then that you\u2019re innocent.\u201d \u201cIs this a house or an intensive care unit where strangers cannot enter and where you cannot smoke?\u201d \u201cAnswer the question!\u201d \u201cGod, just understand! The one whose name and position you are so eager to know is the person Bagila liked. What\u2019s the use of asking about him? You\u2019re angry that we didn\u2019t tell you he was coming. And how should we have done to? To ring your doorbell in Moscow; to say that while you were gone, we did such and such and such and such?!\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t hide behind Bagila. Depending on my relationship and trust with Karatai!\u201d From this idiotic thought, Malika ran out of patience. She fell silent, clutching her head, rage and anger, hatred boiled so violently in her chest that, more than anything in the world, she wanted to give up on everything, take the children and leave this house wherever her eyes look. \u201cYou… you will kill me too,\u201d she said lastly. \u201cYou are a freak, not a man! Your cunning makes the dishonest seem like honest people. I said everything, decide the rest yourself, according to your conscience and honour.\u201d She stood up, staggering, as if the floor was shaking under her, and saw Bagila in the doorway with a tear-stained face swollen with tears. \u201cLika,\u201d she said, ignoring Sargel. \u201cDon\u2019t be upset. I\u2019ll go to a hostel. I understand that you find living here simply impossible.\u201d Bagila really decided to leave Sargel\u2019s house, Malika realised this when she saw a suitcase and an attach\u00e9 case at the girl\u2019s feet. Sargel had the look of a fool. Malika looked contemptuously at her husband, asking him with his eyes: \u201cWell, did you achieve your goal?!\u201d With a purely feminine intelligence, she realised that, in truth, the departure of Bagila did not promise her any complications. Indeed, if she had not married Sargel, she would not have known Karatai, his many friends, his wife and children, and especially Bagila. In fact, they are complete strangers to each other. If anyone will feel bad, it will be their relative Sargel. She thought it over in- stantly, but she herself was afraid that she could think so badly. Malika also thought that kindness and love bring people together, and not family relations themselves, and that closeness through mutual kindness is stronger than family ties. During these one and a half years, she got so used to Bagila, became so close to her that she could not imagine life without her. She was deafened as if by thun- der that a person close to her, to whom she entrusted her innermost, was going to leave. But Malika, restraining herself, waited for what Sargel would do. \u201cWhat is it? Do you want to tell me what\u2019s going on?\u201d Sargel asked, clearly flustered. \u201cNo, that\u2019s just the decision I made,\u201d said Bagila in a whisper. \u201cCan I live the way I want? Isn\u2019t that right, Lika?\u201d She looked at Malika, forcing a smile. \u201cWell, just like the devil, even if he laughs, even if he cries, you can\u2019t take your eyes off him!\u201d Malika noted with envy. Angry faces flashed before Sargel\u2019s eyes — Karatai, then his friends from the Ministry of Higher Education and the rector. If this doll voluntarily leaves his house, then powerful people will disappear for him like a dream. The fact that their disappearance or presence depended on the mean girl infuriated Sargel, but he began to speak calmly, even affectionately. \u201cWe didn\u2019t do anything wrong to you,\u201d he began in the tone of a caring relative. \u201cI have no right to teach you, but still, I will say this: sooner or later you will get married and start a family. And god forbid, if someone\u2019s lustful hand intervenes in your honest life, the snake of debauchery will crawl through your warm nest. You will probably behave even worse than me. Now, when I speak the pure truth, confirmed by physical evidence and children, one of you rears up like a wild horse, and the other demonstrates tribal pride. Do you think I should have silently finished smoking this cigarette butt? Is that what you want?! You are certainly guilty before me, but you will leave, what will people say, what will relatives in the village say?! What will Karatai think? Go put your things back!\u201d He finally glared angrily at Malika, \u201cWhy are you standing there, help!\u201d Malika was glad that Sargel barked at her. She picked up Bagila\u2019s things, shouldered her towards her room. And then Mancia peeped out of the door opposite. She looked at them in such a way that it seemed, if by her will alone, they would be torn apart. \u201cHow scary!\u201d whispered Bagila, falling into her chair. \u201cWhat\u2019s scary?\u201d \u201cHer glare! She always looks at me like that. What did I do to her?!\u201d \u201cWho knows,\u201d Malika sighed somehow pitifully. \u201cShe can\u2019t stand me either. The poor girl does not even understand that she does not have a closer person than me, and who, if not me, should do her good. Whatever!\u201d She frowned, making it clear that one could talk endlessly on this topic, but not now, when it was already dreary. \u201cTell me, why did you decide to leave me?\u201d \u201cI knew that uncle Sargel would not let go of this,\u201d Bagila laughed. Malika, rounding her eyes, piercingly looked at her. \u201cOh, how clever you are! You knew he wouldn\u2019t let go?! Do you know how I will beat you for disrespecting Sargel like that?\u201d She, having rolled the newspaper into a tube, began to hit Bagila on the back. \u201cTake that! Take that!\u201d Having finished the \u201cpunishment\u201d, Malika hugged Bagila tightly, kissed her cheeks and forehead. Bagila, freeing herself from the embrace, saw glittering tears in Malika\u2019s eyes. Again, Malika cried. From grief or joy? For the past or the present? Or for future\u2026? No one could answer this question, nor could Malika herself. She just got too worried in the last minutes, and suddenly she felt good, empty and cheerful, as if she had just begun to live. A few days later, Karatai received a long, vague letter from Sargel with cryptic allusions. He had never received and never written such long and confusing messages. He immediately opened the letter, but could not read beyond the introduction, and then forgot about it, and the letter lay in his pocket for several days. When Karatai finally read Sargel\u2019s letter, he felt unkind in his heart, although he did not understand the essence of his relative\u2019s reasoning. Sargel hinted at a recent event in his house and asked that Karatai not tell anyone about this, even Bagila\u2019s mother, but, he says, he could not help but write about it, and that it was Karatai\u2019s duty as a father to know about this ordinary incident, and Sargel did not dare to remain silent… \u201cI often think a lot about how our family should always be clean before society, before people, so that they don\u2019t slander us,\u201d Sargel ended the letter in this way. Karatai, suppressing his annoyance, got to the bottom of Sargel\u2019s reasoning, sorting through words that looked like ant tracks. He read the letter at breakfast. Yesterday he was informed that the loss of livestock had begun at a remote state farm, and he was preparing to leave for the farm in the morning together with Turgat, who was the acting head of the agricultural department. The manager retired, and Karatai insisted on the bureau of the district committee to entrust the department to Turgat. While his wife was putting breakfast on the table, he read the letter again. After drinking hot tea with pastries, Karatai got up from the table. \u201cYou\u2019ll spoil your stomach, eat like a human being,\u201d the wife grumbled, as usual, although she knew that Karatai never ate heavily in the morning. \u201cThe car is waiting, I must go.\u201d \u201cWhat kind of letter do you have? The one you are reading so intently.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know… A complaint against you!\u201d \u201cWho is it that doesn\u2019t like me?\u201d she asked, support- ing the joke. \u201cA student… She writes that you treat her like a girl.\u201d \u201cBagila, right?\u201d \u201cWould I really stay quiet? It\u2019s just Sargel with all his nonsense.\u201d \u201cOkay, well, if you see felt-tip pens — buy it, the chil- dren are buzzing at my ears. Sometimes they sell those things at the local market.\u201d Karatai promised to look and left the house. Cold western winds covered the road with dry, strong snow, which had been falling for the second day without ceasing. Turgat stood looking out at the snow, waiting for Karatai to leave the house. \u201cWith how it is no one will ever be able to get here,\u201d Karatai remarked, glancing at the frequent crossings. \u201cYeah, there is practically no road. An all-terrain vehicle is waiting for us at the central estate. At night I spoke with the director, perhaps he cleared the road?\u201d Turgat, wanting to show his efficiency, spoke deliberately and precisely \u201cWhile one hundred and forty sheep fell at four shepherds. In some departments they\u2019re still counting the death of their cattle.\u201d \u201cWho has the most losses?\u201d \u201cSome shepherd in Burgrieden. Remember last year he came to us? He is about fifty years old, such a big man. He has seven children.\u201d \u201cI remember, I remember,\u201d Karatai said. \u201cThere was a guy like that…\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s bald.\u201d \u201cThat I did not know. He did not take off his hat in the district committee.\u201d Karatai grinned, followed by the chauffeur and Turgat. \u201cThey are interesting people,\u201d Turgat said, wanting to show that he knew each of the shepherds well. \u201cGood workers, but, being in the district committee, they do not even guess to remove their little hats.\u201d Two hours later they reached the central estate of the state farm. At the top of the hill, which stood on the border of the state farm, the director and chief specialists were waiting for them. \u201cCattle are dying out there, and you are sitting at home,\u201d Karatai said, greeting them coldly. \u201cWe are meeting with you…\u201d the director began making excuses, but Karatai interrupted him. \u201cWhy did you bring whole office? What, you have nothing to do?\u201d \u201cKaratai Isaevich, we wanted you to see that everyone is here in place.\u201d \u201cTheir place is where their cattle are dying!\u201d he said, waving his hand to the stormy steppe. \u201cYou alone are enough for me. Is there a clear road somewhere here?\u201d \u201cThere is. Two graders came and cleared it at night.\u201d \u201cAt night? Is this after they knew I was coming? It means that even yesterday the shepherds were cut off from the world. How did you communicate with them? What, did you get helicopters to pick them up?! \u201cKaratai Isaevich, we are not sitting idly by. All of the equipment is on snow retention. Graders had to be brought in from there…\u201d Karatai looked hard at the director and his subordi- nates, who were waiting with obvious fear to see how this conversation would end. \u201cThe cattle depot has been built, but where do we get the boards for the poultry farm? From the stockyard! Volodya, give me a magazine!\u201d Karatai\u2019s driver, a Russian guy who knew the Kazakh language perfectly, pulled out the republican satirical magazine \u201cShmel\u201d from the inner pocket of his sheepskin coat, and showed the director a caricature of the foreman\u2019s conversation with the heads of the economy. \u201cLook here!\u201d Karatai said. \u201cAnd you\u2019re actually living like this. The equipment given to you for field work, you use to clear the road. It\u2019s necessary to allocate a special, proper grader for this kind of thing! Or do you not know that there are drifts in these parts? Anyway, we\u2019ll talk more later. Go.\u201d The management exchanged glances with indeci- sion, and finally all eyes settled on the director at the same time, and he spoke cautiously: \u201cKaratai Isaevich, we would like to rest after journey here… The wife of one of the workers gave birth to a son yesterday… I would like to celebrate this event with you in our house.\u201d Karatai looked straight at the director: \u201cA worker\u2019s wife gave birth to a son. Why should we celebrate this in your home?\u201d \u201cWe agreed to do so… Karatai Isaevich!\u201d Karatai found it funny to watch the director fuss, but he restrained himself. Not wanting to offend the worker in question, whose wife gave birth to a son; he looked softly at the red-cheeked man with amused eyes. \u201cCongratulations!\u201d he said. \u201cIf there is time, we will sit at the table together, but if not…\u201d He almost said: \u201cI\u2019ll take my share and go,\u201d but stopped in time. Somehow, going round the farms, Karatai ended up on that one. When he got there, he was in a hurry to leave, but how can the first secretary of the district committee up and go so carelessly? In order to somehow console the owner of the house and the director, he said something that almost flew off his lips. Coming out of the state farm office, he could clearly see that a load of ceremonial clothes was stuffed inside his car, it looked more like market stand than it did a vehicle. Karatai\u2019s hair stood on end. \u201cWhat is it?!\u201d he asked the director, who was stand- ing next to him. \u201cThere are two nines,\u201d he grinned. \u201cWhat? What nines?\u201d \u201cYou are the most respected guest here at the celebration after all. Two pieces from each of the nine workers \u2013 that\u2019s eighteen chapans (ceremonial coat) we left in your honour.\u201d The director looked at him proudly, as if he had done a great public deed. Karatai silently returned to the office, calling the driver behind him, and ordered him to put all the gifts on the table. At parting, Karatai told him: \u201cDo you know what will happen to you if I report this?\u201d The director\u2019s eyes popped out. He knew he had been caught trying to win over the secretary\u2019s favour. \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d remarked Karatai, looking at the director for a long time. \u201cThis better not happen again!\u201d The director obviously realised belatedly how these gifts could be the end for him. By syllables and with great anguish, he squeezed out of himself a: \u201cGoodbye!\u201d Since then, Karatai has been afraid to repeat that same banal joke. He took the director into his car, and they drove to the winter hut. Understanding the mood of the secretary, the specialists of the state farm disappeared somewhere. The road that pierced by a grader at night, was already powdered with snow, and the Volga moved with an effort. The frost and wind here were much harsher than in the regional centre. The wipers worked hard, but still did not have time to brush off the snow from the windshield, and the road would either show clearly, or disappeared in a snowy shroud without a moment\u2019s notice. The Volga kept falling into invisible potholes, and the shaking made Karatai\u2019s head spin. \u201cLooks like the grader left the old, compacted snow here,\u201d Volodya remarked. Halfway through, they saw one of the two graders standing dead in the middle of the steppe. Deciding that there was no one inside, Volodya managed to drive around them, but then they saw someone fussing inside, leaning their face against the glass, and Karatai, having stopped the car, went out onto the road. The grader\u2019s driver poked his huge curly head out of the grader cab. His face turned blue from the cold; his thick, horse-like lips began to move. \u201cOh, good sir, what are you doing here?\u201d Karatai asked, ahead of the director, who again somehow began to fuss about petty things. \u201cWhat am I doing here? I\u2019m guarding this here coffin,\u201d he blurted out. \u201cWhy isn\u2019t your partner helping you?\u201d \u201cOh, how can he help me! I told him not to waste time on me. Now he is probably already near Burgenda.\u201d A smile formed on the tired, exhausted, sleepless, frosted face of the horseman. The director of the state farm was scared to death because the machine operator was so rude and was so simply talking to the head of the district. \u201cHey, don\u2019t act all important, get down from there!\u201d shouted the director, shaking his fist from behind Karatai\u2019s back. The man did not even pay attention to the threats, he calmly looked at the director, as if he were an empty place. \u201cI\u2019m not used to walking around idly, why the hell should I get down,\u201d he said, frightening the director even more. \u201cKaratai Isaevich, do not pay attention to him!\u201d the director was alarmed. \u201cHey, you haven\u2019t been drinking, have you? How is your speech?\u201d \u201cWhy, I already told you…\u201d The horseman pulled out his flat nose deafeningly. \u201cI said, the grader is barely alive, it can stand in the middle of the road, but that\u2019s about it. So no, I haven\u2019t, I was told to \u2018lie down like a corpse if you must but be there.\u2019 Here I am lying dead!\u201d The frankness of the machine operator to the head of the district infuriated the director. If they were alone, he would have shown him what was happening, but Karatai was present here, and the director was silent, ready to burst with anger. \u201cOkay, we\u2019ll talk tomorrow,\u201d the director was angry. \u201cSince your coffin is broken, why sit in it, why didn\u2019t you leave with your friend?\u201d said Karatai, not hiding his sympathy for the horseman. \u201cHe went forward immediately; he has a stronger grader. I told him if I stop, that he shouldn\u2019t delay, time is precious after all. On his way back, he will definitely pick me up.\u201d The director of the state farm did not like that the first secretary was so attached to some tractor driver and was trying to find out something from him. It seemed to him that Karatai wanted to leave a good impression of himself with an ordinary hard worker. When the conversation seemed to be over and it was possible to go further, Karatai suddenly asked: \u201cHey, sir, you look like a real hero. What size are your shoes?\u201d From such an unexpected question, both the direc- tor, and Turgat, and the grader driver, who had already settled down in the \u201cheavens\u201d, were taken aback. But the question had been asked and had to be answered. \u201cHow do I say it…\u201d the man sniffed again. \u201cMy size is forty-three, but I wear that I can get my hands on…\u201d Karatai, suspecting something, looked at him searchingly: \u201cShow me your legs!\u201d The grader was confused. \u201cWhy? Here\u2026\u201d He stuck his right leg out of the cockpit. \u201cCome on and the other!\u201d \u201cAccording to Sharia, putting your left foot in front of a person is not allowed.\u201d \u201cHmm, you say it\u2019s not allowed according to Sharia?! I see how it is. Volodya!\u201d Karatai shouted to the driver. \u201cCome here\u2026! How many kilograms can you lift?\u201d \u201cOn the bar, about a hundred, and on my back about a hundred and fifty kilograms, but not for very long,\u201d Volodya laughed. \u201cThen take this horseman off the grader and put him in our car.\u201d Not understanding whether Karatai was joking or speaking seriously, Volodya first looked at his boss, then at the horseman, who was cheerfully grinning from above. \u201cLook out, make sure you don\u2019t drop him.\u201d The hefty horseman was all ready to perch on the back of the driver. \u201cKaratai Isaevich, are you serious?!\u201d The director had completely lost his head and was already not far from turning his back. \u201cOh my god, what is this!\u201d he exclaimed, seeing that Volodya had turned his back to the grader. \u201cWhere are you going! This is a joke,\u201d he yelled at the driver. \u201cIt\u2019s not a joke!\u201d Karatai snapped as he opened the car door. Suddenly, the director\u2019s face turned pale. He saw how the left leg of the man sitting on Volodya\u2019s back dragged along the ground. They drove in silence for a long time. This whole situation with the grader driver drove the director into a dead end, he literally lost his tongue. Clinging to each other with Turgat, they sat with bated breath. On top of that, the grader driver seemed to be pleased that he had frostbite on his leg just in time for the arrival of the authorities. He freely settled down in the back seat, squeezing the director to the door… \u201cThose bastards, you need to answer for them,\u201d the director thought, angry. \u201cIf they freeze their leg, fall into a precipice, freeze in the cold after having too much booze \u2013 you are the one who had to answer for that. Damn, and they know it well! As if their life is needed not for themselves, but for others! Yes, I\u2019m not cold and not hot, but if you\u2019re going to do something like this, at least freeze your head off next time! Well, they will punish me, well, they will remove me from my post. What\u2019s wrong with them?! Like if I get reprimanded, will his leg suddenly feel better? And how can an adult horseman even freeze his leg like that? Last winter, two shepherds got lost in a snowstorm, they were found three days later — and nothing happened to them. Only one of them had only two fingers frostbitten, and that because of their childishness, their youth. And this one, sitting in a tractor, loses a leg. Fell asleep, apparent- ly. Got drunk and then fell asleep!\u201d He glanced at the grader driver. He, having closed his eyes in a sweet slumber, warmed himself in a warm cabin on a soft seat. Before putting the man into the car, Volodya rubbed his left leg with snow, and, probably, it must have helped a bit. The man slept without any signs of suffering. \u201cWell, good sir, what is your name? Who are you? Tell us,\u201d Karatai asked, turning to him. The man opened his eyes and, as if asking, \u201cAre you asking me?\u201d, lay silently for several seconds, reluctantly parting with drowsiness. \u201cKenzhetai Orazov,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cI am the last from my father, that\u2019s why they called me Kenzhetai, which means the youngest, the last… But on the other hand, the largest and tallest.\u201d \u201cSo, you\u2019re healthy, but with frostbitten leg. Are you not ashamed?\u201d Said Karatai, looking at the \u201cyoungest\u201d with a smile. \u201cIt was Allah who punished me for relying too much on my physique. I gave my best boots to one horseman, and my father took the others when he went to gather saxaul. So I had to stay in these worn-out boots. Inter- estingly, it hurt a bit at first, and then \u2013 after I got a little cut \u2013 there was no problem!\u201d He looked amiably at the enraged director. \u201cThat\u2019s all good if it passes, but if it doesn\u2019t, you will remain disabled,\u201d Turgat intervened in the conversation. \u201cAh,\u201d the man lightly waved his hand. \u201cI\u2019ve lived for twenty-nine years unharmed, and that\u2019s good enough for me. There are those who, as soon as they see the light, close their eyes and let it take them… My father had six kids, but in the end only two remained. All the rest disappeared from the very beginning!\u201d He whistled for persuasiveness and went back to dozing. From such a manner of talking to the authorities, the director\u2019s heart ached. \u201cKenzhetai, stop saying the first thing that comes in your head! There are big people next to you!\u201d he growled, not hiding the threat. \u201cI\u2019m not talking about anyone; I\u2019m talking about myself. But if I can\u2019t, I guess I\u2019ll be silent,\u201d he answered and fell silent with pleasure, instantly falling asleep. Karatai looked at the guy with even greater interest and saw a book behind the lapel of his sheepskin coat. \u201cYou are a brave person if you read under these conditions. What book do you have?\u201d Kenzhetai fidgeted with displeasure and took out a book from his bosom. \u201cI\u2019ve read it twice. Here, I took it with me, I decided, if I have time, I will look through it again. I don\u2019t understand him. The writer is only two years older than me, yet why does he have such thoughts?!\u201d Karatai took the book, dishevelled, with a stained cover. It contained a photograph of the author. Cold, sharp eyes, piercing through and through, looked direct- ly at him. Where the hell has he see him before? Oh, who cares where he saw him, he probably talked with this man at some point, and Karatai was ready to bet that their meeting was unpleasant. Suddenly his heart fluttered. It\u2019s him! This is the man that Bagila told him about. The one he threw him out of the compartment! He looked at the name of the author of the book. Jasyn Madiev. \u201cWhat a coincidence!\u201d Karatai thought. \u201cI\u2019ve only met him in difficult circumstances.\u201d He leafed through the book and returned it to the man. \u201cWhen I have time, I will read it.\u201d \u201cYou often sit at meetings don\u2019t you. Read it there,\u201d the man advised. Karatai involuntarily laughed. The director, having heard such sedition from the lips of the grader, firmly decided to eradicate him from this world. Turgat had long been jealous of the secretary\u2019s attention on grader\u2019s operator and was offended that his boss had completely forgotten about him. By lunchtime they had reached Burgenda. As if wanting to see the worker arrive along the road he had laid, the second grader stood near a shepherd\u2019s hut, facing them with its frosty cab windows. As soon as they arrived, the shepherd, his wife and children poured out into the cold. Seeing that Kenzhetai was being carried in a stranger\u2019s arms, they froze in fear, and the second grader driver, thinking something bad had happened, rushed to his friend, but seeing that he was alive, and even smiling with pleasure, he exclaimed with admiration: \u201cOh you\u2026!\u201d and picked him up and put him on his back. The shepherd\u2019s wife, who had been standing like a pillar in one place all this time, only now breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had thrown a millstone off her back. \u201cWow! Here I thought that Zhamankara\u2019s foal had died, but it turns out that it was a man! \u201cSo are you happy or sorry that it\u2019s a man?\u201d Karatai asked, stepping forward to greet her. \u201cOh, I\u2019m just glad they\u2019re alive, whoever it is! Is the chief from the district committee with you?\u201d Fearing that this one would say god knows what, the director of the state farm immediately intervened in the conversation. \u201cAre you blind? That\u2019s him, that\u2019s Karatai himself! And what about me, do you know who I am?!\u201d \u201cGod! Really?!\u201d The woman pinched her cheek. \u201cHey, Kulzira, call everyone! Fast!\u201d Having received the order, the girl in a huge jersey and huge boots, gazing at the guests from under her brows, rushed towards a distant shed. The skirts of the jersey thumped on the tops of the boots. \u201cSo, hello everyone! Otbai, this is our director, I did not recognize him, forgive me lord. Please do not be offended dear,\u201d she said, like an old person, although she and the director were around the same age. \u201cThis blizzard has completely tortured us, how many days it has been blowing. Well, come into the house. The bulldozer had just informed us of your arrival not long ago. The house is not cleaned… We weren\u2019t expecting anyone; the owner should be here at the moment…\u201d Karatai thanked the woman with a smile for her hospitality and said that it was not at all necessary to enter the house, they had business to attend to, but the hostess reared like an unleashed mare. \u201cI understand you are the authorities, but bread and salt matters above all!\u201d she exclaimed indignantly. \u201cIf you came here to scold, then scold whilst sitting in your places of honour, we will listen, doing business by the hearth. I\u2019m sure everybody has scolded our shepherd by this point, we are used to it!\u201d There was a vicious character and some familiar malice in her voice. \u201cEven our own children scold us, so we got used to it. Come in! You must be angry that we lost forty sheep. It\u2019s nothing, the state will not get poorer from this. Good is earned by a person. We have been grazing cattle for seventeen years. Over the years, we have raised not forty, but forty thou- sand sheep. And no one patted us on the shoulder, every- body just wags their fingers! They pay money, but no one will spare our children even a word. From birth, we have lived in this wilderness, away from people. Because of these forty fallen sheep\u2026! Last year they swooped down at us like wolves…\u201d \u201cWoman, that\u2019s enough! Shut your mouth! You\u2019ll work this out another time,\u201d the director sharply laid siege to the woman. \u201cKaratai Isaevich, let\u2019s look into the house. It would be nice to warm up, drink some tea.\u201d Silently listening to the hostess, Karatai looked at the director of the state farm and thought that there was apparently a lot going on here that he should have known. When they entered the \u201cliving room\u201d of the two room adobe hut, two girls stretched out by the stove, as if on cue, one was about seven, the other was four years old. The grader drivers settled behind the stove. Kenzhe- tai\u2019s partner provided medical assistance to his comrade. It was clear that the victim would have joked further on his deathbed, because when his partner hurt him, instead calling out for his \u201cmother\u201d, he instead shouted out \u201cfather\u201d. \u201cGod, when will they start to think! You can keep the house clean yourselves,\u201d the hostess shouted from the threshold. \u201cLay down the blankets. Can\u2019t you see we have guests? They always have to be reminded, they themselves don\u2019t understand a damn thing.\u201d With a common effort, the girls pulled three blankets from a chest: one was laid on the torus, the other two along the walls. The smaller girl turned out to be surprisingly nimble, she energetically moved around the dwelling, her black hair covered her face every now and then, and she, like an adult, threw it back with her hand on the back of her head. They laid the blankets neatly, smoothed them out, and sat down sedately in their places by the stove again. \u201cFour boys and three girls,\u201d said the landlady, whose name was Tenge, picking up the children\u2019s things scattered on the floor. \u201cTwo of the boys are at school, the other two with their father. This one, the oldest of the girls, just started going to first grade this year. She came here for the holidays, but she couldn\u2019t go back, everything if flooded over there. Now she has ride on the bulldozer to get back. It\u2019s good that you\u2019ve come.\u201d Tenge spoke of the bulldozer as if it were a person. According to her, it turned out that it can move on its own, and the driver, who was sitting behind the stove, had nothing to do with it. Karatai, noticing this, smiled slightly and thought that the sincere woman was not at all interested in the purpose of their arrival, but simply rejoiced at the guests. When the guests were seated, Tenge said: \u201cHey, Sopia, Maria, stop standing there like statues, serve tea!\u201d The girls were not forced to move twice, they quickly rushed to the samovar in the corridor. \u201cOne of them has a Russian name, Maria?\u201d Karatai asked. \u201cMaybe, who knows,\u201d Tenge answered, preparing a large black cauldron for the meat. \u201cThese names were given to them by my old man, he is completely out of his mind. He\u2019s as dark as the closet, and he climbs in there to read books as well, so he ended up scraping out the names of his daughters from there. It\u2019s as they say: there were once two women: one was in accounting, and the other was either in a chemistry or in physics. So, the old man gave his daughters their names. Over there on the window is the notebook, in which the gain and loss of sheep are marked, there are a dozen or two such names. Preparing them for future daughters.\u201d Tenge chuckled mischievously. \u201cWould a normal person do such a thing!\u201d Everyone in the house laughed at that. Tenge, having amused the guests, grabbed an iron spoon and rushed to scrape the bottom of the cauldron, raising a shrill rattle in the room. The director sat with his brow furrowed. \u201cOh, Tenge, stop that noise. We\u2019re fine without meat\u2026\u201d he muttered. \u201cWhat, you don\u2019t like it?\u201d Tenge asked, peering out from behind the cauldron. \u201cOkay, now I\u2019ll take it out into the street, I\u2019ll clean it there. You know, my old man loves it! When he is free and has nothing to do, he asks: \u2018Hey, clean the cauldron with an iron spoon.\u2019 So I scrape away. And he will listen, fall asleep and start snoring. All of the children leave the house at once and run for the hills.\u201d \u201cIt turns out your old man is quite special!\u201d Turgat giggled. \u201cHe\u2019s been gone for a long time.\u201d \u201cYou saw him last year; he hasn\u2019t changed a bit since then…\u201d The fact that she addressed everyone so formally, namely him, offended Turgat to the point that he blushed with indignation. Soon Kolbai appeared, becoming the subject of general conversation. Together with him, a huge cloud of frosty steam burst inside, in which the owner was consumed by for a moment, like in a fairy tale. Having emerged from this cloud, Kolbai stared at the guests with intense attention. He said hello, barely moving his lips, and silently settled himself at the very door he entered from. From his gloomy face, from his weak, indecisive look, it was not difficult to guess that things were not going well. \u201cWhat are the losses looking like?\u201d Karatai asked bluntly as soon as the host and guests greeted each other. \u201cThere are forty now, five more recently fell,\u201d the shep- herd muttered wearily. Silence settled in the room. \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter?\u201d This question Karatai tormented the director the most. Inwardly shuddering, he waited for what Kolbai would say, and for some reason looked at the front door. \u201cIn what\u2026? There are many reasons. I can\u2019t say from the top of my head…\u201d \u201cName the main ones!\u201d Kolbai could not say anything intelligible for a long time. He well understood that if he spilled the whole truth, he would be putting the director in the crosshairs in front of the none other than the secretary and make himself into such an enemy that even god forbids. But the first secretary silently waited for an answer, and the shepherd was forced to squeeze out: \u201cToday the cattle went into the winter thinner than usual. Also, the shearing was done too late…\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s your fault,\u201d Karatai cut him off. \u201cAre there any other reasons?\u201d \u201cWhat other reasons are there\u2026? It\u2019s all my own fault. We, Kazakhs, are used to sacrificing our lives for the sake of livestock, so I\u2019ll serve my time for this blun- der…\u201d Karatai realised that the shepherd\u2019s obedience was due not to his real guilt, but to something else, which he, the first secretary, did not know and, perhaps, would never know. \u201cIf there are no other reasons, sit down,\u201d Karatai remarked and deliberately continued with cold indif- ference: \u201cBut don\u2019t think that they will put you in jail without asking anything.\u201d \u201cTurns out that it is not that easy to get into prison!\u201d The shepherd joked sadly. \u201cFor seventeen years I kneaded the mud, froze my feet in the snow, forgetting about all the joys of life, I looked after the cattle. My family, children crawled behind me across the steppe… And in the end \u2013 I\u2019m going to prison? You should frighten all the masters!\u201d He began to speak and did not stop, looking at the fire raging in the furnace, not realising that his wife was looking at him with panic and fear. \u201cSo, I\u2019ll get forty-five from my own cattle, personally. The state gave me as a gift for my work. After that, you can take the rest of your flock! And I will go to the central estate, I will live quietly, without the wolves howling behind my back. I don\u2019t understand why we wander the desert steppe. Our hearts almost break with joy if we manage to see a living person during the whole winter. And now you show and say \u2013 \u2018prison!\u2019 I\u2019m tired of it all! I\u2019ll leave!\u201d He plucked a tuft of wool from the bedding beneath him and threw it into the oven. \u201cKolbai, what is the matter with you? You can talk, but don\u2019t go off on tangents like that!\u201d The director chal- lenged him. Kolbai abruptly raised his head, shot him with his eyes. Rage choked him, and the whites of his eyes were filled with blood. The director of the state farm wilted, unable to bear this silent duel. \u201cDon\u2019t like what I\u2019m saying? Strong words were invented by the people, which means they are needed!\u201d Kolbai flared up, unable to contain his anger. \u201cAs long as I have lived, not once had cattle fell in my flock, so not only a person, but also Allah himself will forgive me for using strong words. Do you want me to be polite? But how can I be polite if I end up disappearing for nothing? It\u2019s you, you drove me to this!\u201d The director was furious. He immediately realised that this half-wit would put all the blame for their deaths on him. He looked at Kolbai threateningly. \u201cWell, why did you stop?! Spread everything in front of our distinguished guest! What is my fault? That your frozen sheep die like flies from the slightest wind?\u201d The director, who was lying on his side, raised his head and looked angrily at the owner with the air of a man demanding immediate justice. \u201cIs that how it is?\u201d The shepherd breathed heavily. \u201cWell, hold on! Who was it, that gave me weedy pastures during summer grazing? You! Who sent the fattest sheep to be butchered for a feast? You again! Who promised me ten stacks of feed? You! And what did you give me? Only one stack, and one that is farther from me than Mecca. Deceiving me by promising a tractor? That you did. Only recently did I see the equipment for the first time in the winter, and then they brought it for the sake of the district committee to pave the road. What other reasons were needed? And the cattle, therefore, should not fall, but give two lambs from each ewe? But wait, the worst is yet to come in spring, it\u2019s all just flowers, isn\u2019t it?! It\u2019ll be great if we save fifty out of a hundred lambs!\u201d Having shouted all this, Kolbai turned to the door, as if saying with all his appearance: \u201cNow do what you want with me!\u201d Karatai looked inquiringly at the director, then at Turgat, they were thinking, \u201cWhy are you look- ing this way!\u201d None of them could immediately answer the secretary, and what was there to say. Turgat, trying to take the trouble away from himself, began to mutter that he travelled around with the director of his household, pointed out to him the shortcomings, which, due to remoteness, had to be controlled by phone. Karatai just shook his head, frowned, and waved Turgat away as if he were an annoying fly. He fell silent in mid-sentence, buried himself in a bowl of tea. Karatai decided upon his arrival in the region to invite the directors of weak farms and talk to them properly. He considered it inappropriate to start this conver- sation with the director now, in the house of an already upset shepherd. He heard the most important thing: the secret words of the breeder, we let him grab onto the end of the disturbing thread leading to the truth, now it will not be difficult to get to that point himself. \u201cToday, forty-five fallen sheep were cleared off the list of the central estate. If you calculate how much it all costs, then the price will not exceed the loss of livestock,\u201d Kolbai spoke again on a hot topic. \u201cSince there are roads, you must deliver the promised feed here.\u201d \u201cWe\u2019ll deliver, we\u2019ll deliver,\u201d the director frequented, rejoicing that the shepherd was becoming more accommodating. \u201cI\u2019ll go back to the state farm and find the culprits. I know there is plenty of food.\u201d \u201cWhat are we going to do with the dead cattle? Write up a report?\u201d The shepherd looked askance at the director. \u201cWe\u2019ll see… We need to consult with the veterinary service. Do you think the rest of the cattle will survive?\u201d \u201cWho knows. The livestock barn seems to have been patched up. By evening, three or four wagons of hay will supposedly be brought up here. Now, after all, there is nowhere for the cattle to graze, there is so much snow piled up.\u201d The conversation, having boiled over, flowed along a more even channel, and the hostess spread the food around with special pleasure. The girls tirelessly helped their mother. When the samovar was brought in and tea was poured, Volodya entered the house. In his hands he held a large bowl, in which dressed legs and a head of a ram lay perfectly. \u201cMaster, where should I put this?\u201d he asked as mat- ter-of-factly as if he were one of the family members. \u201cWhat do you mean where? What, is there no room here?\u201d Tenge challenged him. \u201cIf you can\u2019t see it yourself then just stand and hold it in your hands!\u201d Volodya realised that Tenge was saying this exclu- sively in her own way. He placed the bowl on a small table by the stove and sat down to drink tea. \u201cLady, did you decide to bring the number of lost cattle to forty-six?\u201d Karatai asked with a smile, watching Tenge putting meat into the cauldron. \u201cNo, the number of the fallen will remain the same. This is my ram! All of the state sheep are thin, but mine are well-fed, a real Kazakh ram. Why should I serve you skinny meat?\u201d \u201cSorry we\u2019re in a hurry. We still need to visit some flocks; you started all this in vain.\u201d Karatai pointed to the dressed table, but the owner of the house did not even listen to him. \u201cThe ram is intended for you, so you will have to taste the meat. After all, it\u2019s not like you see me every day?\u201d The owner, satisfied, laughed. \u201cNot every year I get an opportunity like this, who knows when I\u2019ll see you again! Everyone around the table laughed with undis- guised pleasure. \u201cAnd it\u2019s good to be around ordinary people,\u201d Karatai thought. \u201cWhat can I say! They will all endure; they will all endure! And they might swear and curse at each other, whip each other with obscenities. But these people always have kindness and forgiveness… \u201c He had previously seen the owner of the house, who, seated at the door, drank his tea intently. Kolbai, like no one else, had the right to be offended by him, he had the right to say that he could help the ordinary shepherd, but does not wish to do so. But Kolbai kept silent, on the contrary, having slaughtered the ram, he pretended that all his worries were the little things in life, and most importantly, to show great Kazakh hospitality. Last year, his younger brother was prosecuted, and Kolbai went to Karatai to ask for help. The brother, together with two horsemen were getting ready to see the female students at the neighbouring state farm. It was the hottest harvest time. There was about a ton of grain left in the onboard machine, on which Kolbai\u2019s brother worked — the combine broke down, and the brother was too lazy to go anywhere with such a small load. Right from the field, while technical assistance was repairing the harvester, they went to see some women. Leaving his friends at the women\u2019s hostel, he drove back to his field. On the highway, he was stopped by a raid detachment of the OBKhSS. Seeing the grain in the back, the police drew up an act. No one believed him, that he would never even think about stealing grain. During the inves- tigation, it became clear to the horseman that he could be imprisoned for a year. It was then that Kolbai went to Karatai. \u201cI can\u2019t put pressure on the court. Let him get justice,\u201d he said and almost kicked the shepherd out of his office. The people then explained for a long time, referring even to the district prosecutor, that the horseman was imprisoned for nothing. If Karatai intervened in the case, the district court, of course, would listen to him. Then he regretted and scolded himself for a long time: looks like he found where to show integrity. He rode home with a feeling of awkwardness, he did not lift a finger to help the man, and now he had burst into his house and sat down in the most honourable place. But Kolbai pretended that absolutely nothing had happened, that the year that his younger brother had served was a mere trifle between them… Karatai was at the table, and when Kolbai showed him his household, he tried to ask him about his brother, but each time he did not have the courage to start this conversation. Two hours later he said goodbye to the shepherd\u2019s family. The healthy grader driver did not leave his frozen partner for a minute and finally brought him along. At the table, everyone was happy that the guy\u2019s leg came back to life. Having fed the patient, the comrade wrapped him in a warm blanket, put him in his grader, and drove ahead of everyone to the central estate. Saying goodbye to Karatai, the horseman suddenly said to him: \u201cThank god you are our secretary. You are a kind and smart person. I\u2019m sorry for any trouble we caused you. Goodbye.\u201d \u201cWhat are you talking about, just go!\u201d The direc- tor shouted at the guy, but Karatai stopped him with a movement of his head and warmly said goodbye to the horseman. Karatai took Kolbai\u2019s daughter with him to the district centre, who until that day could not go back to school. Seeing them off, the entire Kolbai family came out of the hut. The youngest cried so bitterly, as if her sister was being taken away in captivity. The shepherd\u2019s lonely house quickly disappeared into a cloud of snow. Karatai suddenly felt sad, as if he had lost his way in the boundless steppe littered with snow. He was not accustomed to such weaknesses and with surprise undertook to look for the cause of this un- accountable acute anguish but could not find anything…. Karatai got home in the second half of the night. The wife quickly, as if she had not slept, opened the door, helped him to undress, out of habit, clearly reported who called, what news there was for the day. He drank a cup of camel milk, looked at his sleep- ing children, and got into bed. But no matter how much he closed his eyes, he just couldn\u2019t fall asleep. For the umpteenth time, he began to think about the shepherd and his family. There, in this wilderness, in the middle of a blizzard, there was a lonely house. And all seventeen years, day after day, they are there in the snow. The shep- herd\u2019s children grew up quickly, and they\u2019re completely different to his own. Where did their childishness go… It was clear that the snowstorms and dry winds blew everything away. There is maturity in their eyes, what strong words! And how pure and simple-hearted they are! And their parents are simple and trusting. They are ready to forgive everything. All seventeen years they did not ask anything from anyone, they themselves fussed about themselves and about the cattle. Of course, they are not the very first, but they work honestly, to the best of their ability. The main thing is that they will not deceive; they will not dishonour themselves. After all, the essence of a person can be recognised by their eyes. And in the eyes of Kolbai and Tenge there is no dishonour. This quality had passed to their children, the conscience will forever remain and will be the property of their family. And he scared Kolbai with a consequence! What a fool! Karatai scolded himself. How many thousands of sheep did the shepherd raise over the years? Why do we forget about it? He looked at his watch, it was three in the morning. He had to get up after four hours. Karatai closed his eyes again. \u201cEnough, you need to sleep a little, there is work tomorrow. What a life, there is no time to think calmly! What was his name? Madiev?\u201d Karatai remembered the grader\u2019s book and immediately the conversation with his daughter in the mountains came back to him. And Sargel\u2019s letter… It all has something to do with it. \u201cWhy did Bagila tell me about this man? Just to remind me how I got him out of the com- partment? Just for this? No… It\u2019s not that simple.\u201d \u201cWhat are you thinking about?\u201d Asked his wife, seeing that he was awake. \u201cYes, so.\u201d Karatai evaded the answer. \u201cI think we should go to Alma-Ata.\u201d \u201cWhat, again for the party meeting?\u201d Karatai chuckled. \u201cYes, something like that. A family meeting.\u201d In the spring, a new book by Jasyn came out. This was his third. The annotation said that the author seeks to show a bright image of our contemporaries in the sto- ry. Their love and devotion to their native land, the best and noble qualities of their soul, reflection on life and its problems. It was also reported that the language of the story is bright, original, the book is easy to read. Jasyn ran his eyes over these lines and swore in annoyance: \u201cDamned publishers! They don\u2019t know any other words. What a love for stamps. Who would read a book with such an annotation!\u201d Surprisingly, the newspapers bypassed a deathly silence about the new book of the sensational prose writer, which came out after a three-year break. It was as if this book never existed, as if the author had not written anything not a single review, not a single word in passing in review articles about literature. It turns out that his thoughts, the created images, his imagination and reflections, which took three years of his life, are not worth a single penny?! He picked up the latest issue of the literary weekly. It contained a huge article about the last story of a writer, his age. Jasyn read this story in manuscript, the author asked him to express his opinion. He didn\u2019t like the story. It\u2019s not enough to say he didn\u2019t like it, it was involved alongside small, insignificant events, the red price to pay to be but a note in the newspaper. From the first to the last page of the story, the young specialist, with the support of the party committee, fought in the economy to im- prove things, and finally he himself became the director of the state farm. \u201cGod!\u201d After reading the story, Jasyn really de- spaired. \u201cCan this really be considered literature? He seems to be crazy! He probably still thinks that this is a new step in creativity. How can you suggest this to the reader? Our poor literature, what and whom only it does not tolerate! But he is waiting for praise… He also believes that he will be praised highly. Poor fellow, why is he writing?!\u201d Jasyn wrote a few lines, put the paper into the manuscript of the story, and left the house on the eve of the author\u2019s arrival, telling his wife to hand him the folder herself. The young writer came, expecting Jasyn\u2019s enthusiastic words… After reading his note, he froze, all pale, not knowing whether to believe what was written or not: \u201cAll this is office fiction! If you don\u2019t feel sorry for literature, then at least have pity on the readers.\u201d \u201cAh! He thinks he\u2019s so smart! Time will tell which one of us is the fool! \u201cHave pity on the readers\u201d! If he is so compassionate, let him first stop writing his muddled stories! He himself only digs into the crap and brings back blackness. And when we write about a bright life, he immediately doesn\u2019t like it!\u201d \u201cSay what you need to say, don\u2019t talk so much. A writer should be ashamed to talk like that!\u201d said Jasyn\u2019s wife, frowning. \u201cHow could he! And you, you sing the same songs as him. He thinks that there is no one left in literature besides him, and this is because two or three blockheads once praised him! Let\u2019s see how long he will remain at the top!\u201d \u201cTalk to him about it! There is a sick father lying in other room, don\u2019t shout like that.\u201d Jasyn\u2019s colleague slammed the door in parting. A huge article, in which this story was assessed as a new stage in the development of literature, caused Jasyn to laugh. However, such outlandish things were not a surprise to him… Criticism, which he forgot to even think about, hit the book about two months later and in that newspaper. No stone was left unturned from the book. Ideological vagueness, suspicious ambiguities, the characters are victims of their complexes, the plot does not correspond to the truth of life, language and concepts are alien to the Kazakhs, \u201ccreative stagnation\u2026\u201d The article consisted only of such expressions. For Jasyn this was the strongest blow. Actually, not the criticism itself, but the deliberate murder of the book, entrusted to a not very smart person. He was painfully worried that the newspaper did not disdain this scribbling. For two days, Jasyn tried to write a rebuke to the criticism, but realising that by doing so he would get involved in a senseless skirmish, Jasyn abandoned the idea. \u201cWhy show character,\u201d he thought. \u201cThe writer must be criticised, and he must be ready for this. My goal is to write, to defend myself against fools \u2013 these kinds of arguments are not for me. And also, only the weak need to protect themselves, but for now I am confident in myself! Two weeks later, he was kicked again in a youth newspaper. The article was called \u201cShadow on the Wattle Fence…\u201d On that same day he called Bagila. \u201cI\u2019m at the hotel,\u201d he said, barely saying hello. \u201cI\u2019m sitting in a friend\u2019s room, we studied together. He left on a business trip, will be late in the evening. I\u2019m waiting.\u201d \u201cWill we be together?\u201d \u201cWhen will you stop being afraid of me? Like a real Kazakh, you are horrified by the word \u2018hotel.\u2019\u201d \u201cYes. I will always be afraid of you.\u201d She heard Jasyn chuckle. \u201cI promise I\u2019m not scary all of the time. How soon can you be with me?\u201d Bagila thought about how long it would take her to travel, and then asked: \u201cShould I bring today\u2019s article?\u201d \u201cNo need. It\u2019s here in front of me. I\u2019m in room five hundred and thirty.\u201d \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll be there in an hour.\u201d It was the last days of May. Low-rise buildings were drowned in blooming lilacs and apple trees, only high- rise buildings broke out of the spring boil, reflecting the pink light of the evening sun on their marble walls. In the south, an icy horseshoe, trimmed with blue spruce forests, stood on the Alatau, proudly carrying its grandeur and eternal beauty. Bagila was suddenly overwhelmed with joy. Waving a thick camel-hair sweater in her arms, she merrily ran up the stairs. Climbing up to the fifth floor, she went to the door numbered five hundred and thirty. Probably, he was waiting for her at the very doorstep: as soon as she knocked, Jasyn opened the door, instantly dragged her into the room, kissed both of her hands in turn. \u201cThe horror!\u201d Bagila exclaimed, looking at him and wincing. \u201cIt reeks of booze! Have you been drinking alone.\u201d \u201cYes. Sometimes it\u2019s good to drink alone, without a drinking buddy.\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s good about that? Turns out that you could not resist criticism, huh? This weakness doesn\u2019t really fit your character.\u201d Bagila said, throwing the sweater on the bed and settling herself in an armchair opposite Jasyn. \u201cAre you sick by any chance? Your eyes don\u2019t look so good.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d Jasyn shook his head. \u201cIt is impossible for my eyes to be ablaze with fire.\u201d \u201cYes, your affairs are apparently not going so well,\u201d said Bagila. \u201cWhy did you call me?\u201d \u201cIn honour of the criticism addressed to me.\u201d \u201cYou know what\u2026\u201d Bagila looked straight at him. \u201cLika and I talked about you for a long time today. We talked for more than an hour… About your work, about your family, about these articles. Lika likes you very much. Today she literally cried because of this article. And just then uncle Sargel came in and began tormenting her with questions, he asked why she was crying. They quarrelled as usual, and in the end, she burst into tears for real. He still remembers that cigarette butt pret- ty well… \u201cI am so glad for them!\u201d Jasyn smiled sarcastically. \u201cHe just hinted at something to my dad. A month ago, dad came to me, and we talked about a lot. Previ- ously, dad did not give me advice, but then he suddenly said: \u201cLook, daughter, your misfortunes first echo in us, think about the honour of your parents and your own honour.\u201d It seems to me that he knows about you… After that conversation, I really became attached to him. \u201cNow he\u2019s trying to find a way to get rid of me again?\u201d She looked at Jasyn with curiosity, but he seemed to have already forgotten about her, he sat, busy with his thoughts, mechanically leafing through magazines. It was always like this when he had a difficult time: he became indifferently careless and coldly calm. Bagila, noticing this, tried not to ask unnecessary questions, realising that some important thought was ripening in him, and it was weightier than all of her words. Jasyn opened the window. Cool air rushed into the room and with it the sound of a fountain beating in the square in front of the hotel. He looked for a long time at the opera house, whitening with columns opposite, at the people strolling decorously by the fountain. Bagila tried, but could not get used to Jasyn, when he became like this: withdrawn, detached, as if she was not around and never was. \u201cSur, come here,\u201d Jasyn suddenly said without even looking in her direction. Bagila nervously leaned back in her chair. \u201cWhy should I come over?!\u201d She even turned away with wounded pride. \u201cWell, please, your dignity will not suffer, I promise. Just come here.\u201d With painful reluctance, she rose from her seat and stood beside him. \u201cLook how careless people are, how they rush to live. Somewhere there are wars, coup d\u2019\u00e9tat, new states arise. Some people die, others are born… How many languages, how many customs, how many hopes and despairs. And none of us really know each other. For example, in Africa, not a single person realises that in the distant city of Almaty, in the five hundred and thirtieth room of this hotel, we are standing together, and you are terribly offended by my request to come to me, and that today in the newspaper I was criticised as the last graphomaniac. No one knows but the two of us. It\u2019s a pity!\u201d Bagila looked at him, not understanding what he was saying. \u201cWhat\u2019s a pity?!\u201d \u201cIt is a pity that the concept of \u201chumanity\u201d is so abstract. Somewhere on earth, two people, a she and a he, are madly in love with each other. They can\u2019t live apart, and people couldn\u2019t give a damn about that. \u201cWhy do we need to know about them?\u201d \u201cAnd no one knows us. Nobody!\u201d Bagila winced: after all, he is a weirdo! \u201cWhy \u2018and us\u2019?\u201d \u201cWe love each other after all.\u201d Jasyn, continuing to look out the window, put his hand on her shoulder. Then he drew her to him, pressed him tightly with his right hand and kissed her temple. She felt dizzy, lord, can he really be so gentle and defenceless?! Bagila almost cried at this revelation. He realised that this intimacy with her was the most unique, most sacred moment, the only one for him, and, god forbid, for her. Is this amazing feeling going to rumble for next couple of hours in his chest? Maybe for every single day? He turned Bagila towards him, looked straight into her eyes. \u201cIs that really true?\u201d Jasyn asked, not at all understanding what was happening to him. Bagila was silent. She did not know what to answer him, how could she talk about it… Sooner or later she was waiting for this day — he had to open up to her, and that\u2019s all happened. Now she was terrified. Where, into what dead ends, will this magical attachment to him lead her? He has a wife, children, a settled life in which he is not at all free. What will come out of their closeness, secrets, furtive meetings in deserted corners, in hotel rooms? But without him, Bagila could no longer imagine life. From the time she got to know Jasyn, all the other guys began to seem flat and insipid to her. Every meeting with him was an event. Jasyn did not always give himself up without looking back to his mood and feelings. Sometimes he became unbearably scrupulous, wayward, he seemed to take pleasure in offending her. At such moments she hated him and looked for an excuse to leave as soon as possible. Already an hour after parting, Bagila reproached herself that she had left Jasyn alone, being offended like a child, and on the same day she called him. \u201cTo tell you the truth, you don\u2019t look like a lyricist at all, and for god\u2019s sake, don\u2019t look at me like that. It is impossible to love a person with such a look. Besides, there is no need to ask whether we like each other or not.\u201d She burst into silvery laughter and returned to her chair. \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Jasyn squeezed out a semblance of a smile. \u201cIt is true that they say that a real student sur- passes a teacher. Okay, let\u2019s finish the lyrical part here.\u201d He poured himself some wine. \u201cI wanted to be myself today, but I see that nothing came of it. Indeed, we have forgotten how to talk about each other.\u201d \u201cNot at all. I never knew how to, and you, quite possibly, have only just forgotten.\u201d \u201cBravo! I give you permission to do this!\u201d \u201cI\u2019m going to do this without your permission. And from this moment refer to you in an informal way. Lately, these formalities have been getting on my nerves. Hearing the way I talk to you, I\u2019m immediately reminded of uncle Sargel, who always speaks to his wife formally.\u201d \u201cWonderful. This is one more step towards our marriage.\u201d Bagila\u2019s cheeks flushed. She frowned seriously. \u201cWe will never be husband and wife. And in my heart, I will always treat you informally.\u201d Jasyn stood up, slowly approached her, imperiously took the glass from her, put it on the table and kissed her on the lips just as imperiously. When she jumped up, ready to fight back, he had already moved to the window. Bagila gasped at such impudence. She sank into a chair and wept softly. \u201cIt\u2019s not fair. After all, you are a jerk!\u201d \u201cI know,\u201d Jasyn agreed with complete indifference. \u201cLet it be unfair, but it is also unfair that for three years I have never kissed you once. Even ashamed.\u201d \u201cAnyone can do that.\u201d \u201cWhy shouldn\u2019t I be like everyone else?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know… You are different for me. However, if you want…\u201d \u201cYes, today has not been a good day since early very morning,\u201d Jasyn thought wearily. \u201cHow much more trouble will there be before tonight?\u201d \u201cOkay, sorry,\u201d he said caustically. \u201cYou can assume that I didn\u2019t kiss you. I take it back.\u201d Bagila looked at him sharply. Jasyn noticed a spark of rage in her eyes. \u201cDo you think you said something smart?\u201d She asked contemptuously, treating him formally again. \u201cQuite the opposite. And in general, today it is better for you to be silent, the ability to speak has changed you.\u201d Jasyn fidgeted in his chair, as if he was sitting on something sharp. Bagila hit him right where it matters. \u201cYes!\u201d he exclaimed in a cheerful voice. \u201cI just thought today was a bad day. But what does a good day mean? This is when all your desires were fulfilled, every step was accurate. But sometimes luck does not give a person anything. We are to blame for everything. And what are you looking at? Yes, you are to blame as well! I had so many thoughts and I was going to post them today. It didn\u2019t work out. And it\u2019s good that it didn\u2019t work out. Since you have become attached to me, I do not know what and how to do things, the old confidence has betrayed me.\u201d \u201cNow I see! So, after I got attached to you! Now you\u2019re looking like yourself,\u201d Bagila laughed. \u201cNasty things suit you very much! How lovely!\u201d \u201cDo I have to tease you all the time to please you? You seem to be terribly fond of playing with words!\u201d \u201cYou won\u2019t be able to piss me off today.\u201d \u201cBecause you\u2019re still hungry for words, and I\u2019m fed up with them.\u201d \u201cBut you still talk!\u201d \u201cDo you want me to shut up?! Hey, what was it again, Bagila… Ugh, what a stupid name you have. Listen, Sur, if you start arguing with me, I will kiss you again.\u201d \u201cPlease!\u201d Bagila raised the glass to her lips just in case. \u201cWhat?! What did you say!\u201d \u201cOh, the joy on your face! I said I didn\u2019t mind.\u201d She seems to have completely confused Jasyn. \u201cYou just got offended, didn\u2019t you?\u201d \u201cAnd what should I do about it, I realised that anything can be expected from you.\u201d Jasyn was silent. \u201cHave you swallowed your tongue? Or are your brilliant thoughts dishevelled like feathers in the wind? However, it is better to remain silent than to carry on with any nonsense. This is below your dignity.\u201d Jasyn approached her. \u201cJust don\u2019t tear the glass out of my hands,\u201d Bagila smiled somehow pathetically. \u201cWhy the hell do I need it! Keep yourself healthy.\u201d Jasyn stroked her head. \u201cYou know, at such moments I don\u2019t want to be in love, like every other person, when love ends in bed. We must be a thousand times higher than that.\u201d \u201cThen we will become an Akhalteke and leave to roam the boundless land\u2026 Do you remember?\u201d \u201cI remember. I\u2019m ready right now. But what to do if we remain human. Listen, is there a man in your family who has died of drunkenness? Put this glass on the table. It turns out that you are insatiable for words and for champagne.\u201d Bagila almost choked. \u201cI haven\u2019t even had one glass.\u201d \u201cAnd that is a lot! I have a friend who gets drunk at the sight of a vodka cork. And you are a woman!\u201d \u201cGod, if my father or uncle Sargel had heard all this! They would have thought that I set out to dishonour our entire family, to give our family dignity to you for desecration. And I, it seems, will become even more pliable,\u201d she put the glass on the table. \u201cWell, what should I do?\u201d \u201cNothing! I\u2019m probably no worse than that unfortunate Czech glass. But the wine glass is directly stuck to your lips. Be quiet, don\u2019t laugh!\u201d Jasyn leaned over her and kissed her on the lips. Bagila closed her eyes… He suddenly smelled a sharp smell of perfume, felt the taste of her lipstick. He became disgusted. \u201cThey all smell the same. What is all this for,\u201d thought Jasyn, pulling away from Bagila. She opened her eyes, and he saw how pride in her was replaced by modesty, waywardness — humility. And he read in her eyes: \u201cWe have crossed the border, what will happen next?\u201d — \u201cWill we go farther? A person can not escape the laws of prescribed existence,\u201d he answered her to himself, realising that the girl would never ask him such a question out loud, and he would never answer it, would not be able to answer it. \u201cYour lipstick is of high quality. Despite the champagne you drank, it has not lost its taste on your lips,\u201d said Jasyn, so as not to be silent. \u201cIs this the first thing you think about after a kiss?\u201d \u201cYes, as long as no other problems concern me.\u201d By his harsh tone, Bagila understood Jasyn\u2019s inner state. She already knew well that he talked about the lit- tle things when he wanted to hide his mental confusion from those around him. \u201cI almost forgot,\u201d Jasyn lit a cigarette somewhat hastily. \u201cI just saw the artist who painted your portrait… Now he is painting another one.\u201d Bagila raised her eyebrows in surprise when she heard that Jasyn knew about that portrait. \u201cHow do you know this?\u201d \u201cYou yourself told me what he looks like. It\u2019s guy called Estay Imanov, a well-known portrait painter. One of the few artists I respect. He had two solo exhibitions. He\u2019s young. Talented.\u201d \u201cOh my god, there are just too many talented peo- ple in this world!\u201d She sighed softly, not daring to look at Jasyn. \u201cNo, it\u2019s not like that,\u201d he retorted calmly. \u201cNot everyone is gifted. There are amateurs — yes! But real talent is rare.\u201d \u201cDid he say he was painting a second portrait?\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with that? He has been watching you for a long time.\u201d Bagila\u2019s eyes widened. \u201cOh my god! This is utter shamelessness! As if I don\u2019t have enough guys following me around!\u201d \u201cHe didn\u2019t follow you.\u201d \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d \u201cSimple. He simply follows the object of his future work of art. For him, you are not Bagila Karataevna, not a student of the Faculty of History, not the painful love of a writer broken in the newspapers, but just material — and nothing more.\u201d \u201cThanks.\u201d The girl bit her lip in disgust. \u201cMaybe you need me as material? Write your next story, after which I will also not be needed.\u201d \u201cYou know it happens. In writing practice, even valuable material loses its significance over time.\u201d The indifferent, calm answer of Jasyn threw Bagila into a rage. \u201cRather than waiting for me to become irrelevant, it\u2019s better to leave of my own free will. I bet it will be right thing to do.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t be scared, I don\u2019t write about love and beau- tiful girls. And then, for me you are not an object. I love to write about the ugly and the thin. They are smarter.\u201d Bagila did not know how to react to these words: to be happy or to be offended. \u201cYou know,\u201d she said, \u201cyou are like ice in a hot caul- dron. Warm on one side, cold on the other.\u201d Jasyn, amazed by such a comparison, carefully looked at Bagila and shook with laughter. \u201cWonderful! Hope I don\u2019t melt?\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t worry, I doubt it\u2019ll be a threat to you!\u201d Still not freed from anger, she spoke loudly, as if whipping Jasyn with words. \u201cAnd tell that guy, for god\u2019s sake, to stop sending his portraits to my home.\u201d Jasyn chuckled condescendingly. \u201cIt turns out that you have a primitive idea of art,\u201d he blew a puff of smoke towards the window. \u201cIn my opinion, this portrait will be a phenomenon in the paint- ing world, and it is not painted in order for him to drag it to your house. This portrait will be exhibited at all exhibitions.\u201d \u201cHe… last time he sent it to my house!\u201d Exclaimed the girl, trembling with indignation. \u201cYes, but it was just a sketch. Didn\u2019t you notice that?\u201d Bagila jumped up and ran out onto the balcony. Jasyn snorted dismissively: \u201cIt\u2019s nothing, it\u2019s not the first and it won\u2019t be the last time, as it flared up, it will cool down.\u201d But Bagel lingered too long on the balcony. \u201cIt looks like she was really offended. Shall I go and calm her down?\u201d He slowly approached her. The girl, as if forgetting where she was, looked at the people bellow, at the hissing jets of fountains. He coughed, reminding himself, and touched her shoulder guiltily. Bagila didn\u2019t even look in his direction. Jasyn saw that she was crying. Tears glistened on her cheeks, reflecting the blue neon light of the streetlights. \u201cThe woman is in tears,\u201d he said, looking over the faces of people below. \u201cThey emphasise your charms. I am afraid of women who never cry, they are usually cunning and two-faced. You know, now women all over the world are facing one problem — how to remain a woman!\u201d He squinted at Bagila and thought: \u201chow is she, is she still angry?\u201d She walked around him like a pillar, entered the room, nervously grabbed a jacket from the back of the chair. \u201cYes, I don\u2019t know much and don\u2019t want to know! I lived happily without it!\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d he said to fill the void between them. \u201cTo know a lot is a disaster for women\u2019s happiness. He who knows little lives quietly and well…\u201d \u201cYou are a ruthless person! You have an answer for everything. There is no warmth in your heart at all.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m looking at the truth, that\u2019s all. In the future, do not strive for knowledge, otherwise you will lose all your friends. People don\u2019t like it when you\u2019re taller than them.\u201d Bagila pulled a handkerchief out of her purse. \u201cI wish I didn\u2019t know you!\u201d She said angrily, but without the previous fury. \u201cYou scoff at my every word; it is pleasant for you to watch a person cry. You are twelve years older than me, and you act as if you were an equal opponent. You are married, you have children, and I\u2019m here with you…\u201d She said, choking on tears, after falling silent. \u201cAre you leaving?\u201d \u201cYes\u2026 What am I supposed to do here?!\u201d She carefully folded her handkerchief, closed her purse, clicked the clasp, slowly put on her sweater, ob- viously unhurriedly fastened the buttons. She waited for what Jasyn would say, but Jasyn, instead of reassuring her or detaining her, only said: \u201cGood luck.\u201d And, lighting a cigarette, he went to the open window. \u201cWe won\u2019t meet again?\u201d \u201cMaybe. If you need me, call me.\u201d \u201cIs this how it all ends? Why did all this happen? For what? Don\u2019t think that I\u2019m sticking to you. I just want to understand why we dated for three years. In or- der to say nasty things to each other and run away?! And you\u2026! After me, you will tie another girl to yourself and again you will be…\u201d Jasyn turned sharply to her. His face was painfully pale, his eyes shone feverishly. \u201cYes, I will find, and I will tie!\u201d He said as if he chopped something off, cold fury in his voice. \u201cI have no other business! I came into existence only to explore the charms of girls. If you haven\u2019t been able to understand me in three years, then you\u2019d better leave now. In six years, it will become completely unbearable, you will even regret that you did not immediately run away from me!\u201d Bagila trampled a little at the threshold and, without even waiting for a kind look or gesture from Jasyn, quietly left. She didn\u2019t remember how she got home. As soon as the door to her room closed, Bagel burst into tears. And the more she cried, the more bitter despair rang in her. Never before had she been so confused and weak. Malika was also crying: Without even asking what happened, as soon as Bagila threw herself on the bed, she burst into tears. Fearing that Sargel, sensitive as a magpie, might suspect something, Bagila found the strength to stop crying and lay down in bed, hoping to forget herself in a dream. The anger and despair subsided; she began to think calmly, soberly. And immediately Jasyn appeared before her eyes. \u201cHe was left alone there,\u201d thought Bagila. \u201cAll alone. Or maybe he\u2019s all alone in life? Do not strive for knowledge — you will lose all your friends… Why did he say that? To whom? To me? What if he was talking about himself? God, how difficult it is for him. And to forget him… It\u2019s doubly difficult! How ruthless he is\u2026! It can\u2019t be. Such people understand grief and know how to sym- pathise. A thinking person cannot be heartless. Or does he want to get rid of me? Who knows, he is tormented by a multitude of thoughts entangled with each other in contradictions. It\u2019s much harder for him than for me. A little harder. But what am I to do\u2026? Where will he take me? After all, it\u2019s impossible, having lost your head, to follow him, I still don\u2019t know what he wants? Of course, he is special, not like others, he thinks, speaks differently than everyone else, but do I need such a life? Indeed, in fact, it may turn out to be alien and incomprehensible to me… I have my own life, my own ideas about it. Next to me live relatives, close ones, they love me, and I love them, in this life of mine, my parents, sisters. Let me think and live not as significantly as he does, but so what? This does not mean that I have to give up everything. But where will this ship take me? How will everything go on? Will I stay with him, or will I have to go back? Can I return on my own? What to do? Swim or get off? I must solve this, and quickly, this ship is moving away from my native coast.\u201d Two days later, Malika and Bagila were talking, sitting on the balcony. \u201cAll women are unhappy,\u201d Malika said, continuing to knit a children\u2019s sweater. \u201cBecause our life consists of participation in the sorrows and joys of others. We are much thinner than men, and we forgive them more often. It happens that we ourselves are not sweet, but we suffer for someone, shed tears.\u201d \u201cLika, tell me, will I be happy?\u201d Malika, leaving her knitting, looked at Bagila, as if trying to understand what she wants to hear in response. \u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026 You want to subordinate everything to reason.\u201d \u201cIs it bad?\u201d \u201cWhy? If anything, it\u2019s just too good!\u201d Malika spoke diligently and clearly, like a student in a lesson. \u201cOf course, there is nothing wrong with trying to be a good person.\u201d Bagila tried to look into Malika\u2019s eyes. \u201cYou don\u2019t seem to be telling the whole truth.\u201d \u201cMe?\u201d Malika made her eyes wide, her tone falsely surprised. \u201cWhy should I deceive you?\u201d \u201cI do not know. You speak somehow evasively and too calmly. Why are you so addicted to knitting? It\u2019s still far away until winter, you will have time to knit this sweater.\u201d Malika blushed as if caught in a lie, put down her knitting and began to speak, carefully hiding her eyes. \u201cTo be honest, a thinking and understanding per- son cannot always be happy. After all, he spends all his strength and energy on the lives of others, but he himself has no time to live.\u201d \u201cMeaning…\u201d \u201cWhat do you mean \u2018meaning\u2026?\u2019 Maybe that really is happiness, judging by and large. And if on a personal note\u2026\u201d she shrugged, \u201cyou know, most good people are unhappy, but the most amazing thing is that they never consider themselves to be unhappy. I do not understand this…\u201d \u201cLika, you are somewhat thoughtful today, more than ever before. I only asked about myself…\u201d \u201cAnd I\u2019m only talking about you.\u201d \u201cSo you\u2019re saying that by and large I am happy, but not personally? What kind of fluff is that?! And then, I do not consider myself unhappy.\u201d \u201cMaybe I\u2019m not speaking clearly, but you have the makings of these qualities. Who knows what kind of life you have ahead of you. A person is changeable… Peo- ple whom I considered sensual and subtle in my youth have now completely changed. Many of them became cunning, enterprising, and those whom I thought were blockheads turned out to be real people. Apparently, I don\u2019t understand people.\u201d \u201cBack then, at home,\u201d Bagila suddenly started up, \u201cI wanted to finish school as soon as possible, to become an adult. The world was so beautiful, it seemed to me that all it needed was me to make all of humanity happy. And then all of a sudden, that was not the case.\u201d She smiled slightly bitterly. She wanted to say a lot more: that, it turns out, life is actually quite different, that there is a lot of evil in it, but Bagel did not have enough words, and she also felt that it was hardly worth opening up like that now that Lika had pulled away from her. The fact that her Jasyn was kicked out of the compartment like a puppy, that she could easily get into the institute, and her friend, having passed her exams perfectly, did not find her last name among those enrolled, that the dark-haired one, having grabbed a deuce in history, became a student, Sargel\u2019s path to science, Malika\u2019s life — bright from the inside and dark in reality — vicious articles that shattered Jasyn\u2019s book to smithereens — all this quickly passed in a string in her mind. \u201cYes, you are probably right…\u201d She said, watching two kids in the yard pour water on each other from a toy bucket. \u201cI already know that I will not forget this man, but his path… he has his own path.\u201d \u201cSur.\u201d Malika finally dropped her knitting onto the windowsill. \u201cIt\u2019s a good thing that you said it yourself. Jasyn is a peculiar person, he is not yours. It may be hard to hear, but I will say that you need to forget about him. Will have to forget. Leave for the summer holidays somewhere far away, to the Black Sea, for example, or to Borovoye. Let\u2019s go together, huh?\u201d Bagila did not want to hear Lika say these words, and even so calmly, weightily. It felt like someone was holding her heart with a cold hand. And this was said by that Malika, who was so delighted with Jasyn, what happened to her? Why does she want to break up with Jasyn? \u201cBesides\u2026 your summer class is coming soon. Don\u2019t forget that you came to study! We are responsible for you to Karatai.\u201d It seemed to Bagila that Malik was speaking to her at the prompting of Sargel. Those were his words, right and wrong, like a sweaty palm. \u201cYes, the class is coming soon…\u201d She swallowed back her tears. Malik understood this and grabbed the knitting again, as if her child was freezing and all the salvation was in that sweater. Bagila looked at Malika for a long time, feeling irritation rise inside her towards this woman. Losing her self-control, she screamed at the top of her voice: \u201cLike, what\u2019s wrong with you? What are you hiding from me? For heaven\u2019s sake, stop knitting! What are we going to do in this Borovoye?!\u201d Malika took a deep breath. A pitiful expression appeared on her face, as if she were about to drink a bitter mixture. \u201cSar is going to do something,\u201d she said lastly. \u201cHe wants to meet Jasyn. And you know how stupid and rude he is. I\u2019m afraid that when he rushes to Jasyn, moving his Adam\u2019s apple, with bulging owl eyes, the noise will rise throughout the city. What will happen if Jasyn\u2019s wife finds out about everything? And not from a stranger, but from a relative of the girl?\u201d Bagila was scared. This fright instantly overshad- owed all the insults inflicted by Jasyn. She knew that sooner or later her relationship with Jasyn would cease to be a secret. Often, she dreamed of how she would tell her parents everything — and would talk about him joyfully, with a light and pure heart. Now all this will turn out quite differently. Riding the evil channel of some gossip. \u201cNo, that\u2019s impossible!\u201d cried Bagila. \u201cHow does he know? I won\u2019t let him meet Jasyn!\u201d \u201cWhat can you do?\u201d \u201cI\u2019m leaving! Now, to another city! To another in- stitution!\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t be a fool,\u201d Malika besieged her, \u201cCapital gossip will reach the new city with you or even before you. Besides, you will disgrace both us and your father. \u201cWhat should I do?\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll explain everything to Sar myself. Let him just try and open his mouth. And in the summer, we will go to the Black Sea. Maybe you really will forget about it. Deal?\u201d Bagila wept, dropping her face into her hands, On the evening of the same day, Sargel entered the house in a great mood. Climbing the stairs, he hummed to himself, and when he opened the door, he completely shocked Malika by holding out flowers to her, bowing gallantly at the same time. \u201cToday is our wedding day, remember?\u201d He said, pulling off his sweaty hat. \u201cOoh! Thank you!\u201d Malika was sincerely amazed at her husband\u2019s act, but immediately forgot about him, admiring the flowers. \u201cSar, you don\u2019t know the difference between a broom and a bouquet. How did you manage to choose such a beauty?!\u201d \u201cMen are an inexhaustible treasure! We have many advantages; you just need to be able to see them!\u201d Sargel bared his teeth in a smile. \u201cWe will celebrate this event at home, we will not go anywhere. The birthday of the hearth should be celebrated at the very hearth.\u201d Malika completely forgot what day it is today. And when Sargel handed her the flowers, she felt a ringing emptiness in her heart, there was neither joy nor excitement. And never will a living feeling, a marital passion appear in her heart, except sometimes a tear of despair will drip… Actually, she knew this very well before. But now Malika nevertheless pretended to be a devoted, loving woman, hugging her husband around his thin wrinkled neck. And she suddenly felt a little better. After talking with Bagila, the house needed at least some kind of, even if false, joy, and it arose through this. An hour later everyone was at the table. Mancia and the children, who usually stayed in the kitchen at the time of feasts, were now in the room. Mancia, having settled herself comfortably, immediately buried herself in a book, so that they would quickly forget about her. Sargel decided to put the table in perfect order. \u201cMancia, everything has its time, dear! We eat at the table, but do not read, just as they read at the desk, but do not eat.\u201d \u201cThe one who can do pedagogy does it, the one who does not understand this science teaches others,\u201d she blurted out, smiling sarcastically. Sargel\u2019s eyes popped out of their sockets for a sec- ond and returned to their proper place. Glancing over everyone with the eyes of the head of the dinner table, he turned his gaze personally to Mancia. \u201cThis, too, is the result of over reading,\u201d he said, conciliatorily clear. Sargel didn\u2019t seem to want to part with his benevolent mood today. \u201cIf the acquired knowledge is not directed to the benefit of the cause, it turns into a corrupting poison for a person. Knowledge is like a hunting golden eagle. If the bird is released for nothing when there is no animal nearby, the golden eagle, angry, attacks the hunter himself. Such is the word! It often hits the owner. My tongue is my enemy!\u201d Sargel raised his finger to the ceiling and laughed, snorting. He was pleased with his tirade. Mancia\u2019s eyes gleamed with rapacity. Noticing this, Sargel broke the silence, fearing that she would attack. \u201cSoon you will finish your studies and will go in different directions. That\u2019s when you\u2019ll miss your uncle!\u201d He perked up as he imagined how Bagila and Mancia would miss him. \u201cYou know how I long for my childhood, back when I had nothing but a torn shirt and a piece of bread. Oh, that\u2019s we need! And so, I want this childhood, albeit the hunger, to return even for a day! And you… What bad things did you see in my house? Nothing! Everything is here, there is prosperity in everything, no one refuses you anything! Well, there are, of course, misunderstandings, but they are transient, and you quickly forget about them. Let\u2019s raise this toast to Malika, who is a wife to one of us, an older sister to the others, and a third,\u201d he made a terrible expression and leaned towards the children, \u201c a mother! To the dregs!\u201d Sargel called out but was immediately surprised that all three female representatives briskly and completely overturned the wine. After her husband, Malika started speaking. \u201cToday is a special day for me and Sargel. I want to say that in the hustle and bustle of our daily affairs, the day of creating a family hearth should not become dull and mundane. I ask you to drink for Sargel, who is close to each of us! To the dregs!\u201d She skilfully emptied her glass. Mancia and Bagila did not lag behind her. Sargel\u2019s eyes darted across them with a peculiar gleam. Sargel then pursed his lips and pressed them together, keeping out the anxious thoughts that instantly flared in his doctor head. But still suspicious… He wanted to celebrate the day of his legal marriage with Malika with a warm home- made dinner, and not with such a swift drink. Sargel was greatly frightened when he saw how his ladies properly kissed the wine glasses. \u201cWhere is that coming out? So, they can drink? Where did they learn? Somewhere else. Maybe they are smoking cigarettes there with might and main.\u201d He looked searchingly at his wife, Mancia and Karatai\u2019s daughter. Look, such calm faces! Just pure in- nocence! And if you offer them anything they will just stun another glass. Sargel spelled out his wife\u2019s toast in his head. \u201cShe lies all over, mocks me, smiles with some kind of overtones…\u201d An hour later, Sargel dismissed the feast. \u201cListen, Sar,\u201d Malika said to him when he came into the kitchen to watch his wife wash the dishes and leaf through the newspaper. \u201cI\u2019m glad about your idea to celebrate your wedding day. Honestly! But admit it, besides this, you have some other news. Why are you so silent?\u201d Sargel sedately put down the newspaper, chuckled, as if to say: \u201cOh, you are cunning!\u201d \u201cYes, there is more!\u201d he began, and all his doubts crushed his joy and complacency. Malika, ready to hear something unusual, froze with a wet plate in her hands. Sargel did not want to tell just like that, right away, he paused with pleasure, put on a face a dignified expression. Apparently deciding that the atmosphere already corresponded to the importance of the message, he stuck out his Adam\u2019s apple. \u201cThe fact is that from tomorrow your husband is the head of the department!\u201d He blurted out, breathless and waiting for the impression the news would make. \u201cThat\u2019s how it is! Well, aren\u2019t you a shuffler!\u201d Malika put the plate in the sink and wiped her hands on her apron. \u201cShould I hug you or will you do it yourself?\u201d \u201cOf course I\u2019ll do it myself!\u201d Sargel clasped his wife in his arms, pressed his lips to her cheek. \u201cSar, dear, let\u2019s not disturb Karatai\u2026\u201d \u201cHow would I \u2018disturb\u2019 him? Is it bad news?!\u201d \u201cI\u2019m not talking about that. I wanted to say, let\u2019s not talk about Bagila with him,\u201d Malika passionately kissed Sargel. \u201cWell, think about it, it\u2019s all nonsense. Why spoil the holiday in our house…\u201d Sargel\u2019s face, rosy from the kiss, faded again. \u201cYou always spoil the mood.\u201d \u201cWell, excuse me,\u201d she again reached out to him with her lips, and then with her whole body. \u201cWe decided to go to the sea in the summer with Bagila. I think she\u2019ll be able to clear her head there. Find us two tickets to the Crimea. You\u2019re a doctor of science after all, head of the department.\u201d Sargel moved to the window and looked out into the street, as if he saw the seashore there and on it his wife and Bagila in bathing suits, in close proximity to unfamiliar men. \u201cCan\u2019t she just forget him here?\u201d \u201cNo!\u201d Malika put all her ardour into this \u201cno\u201d, sensing that the conversation might stall. \u201cYou are a smart person, and you understand well how difficult it is for a girl. She\u2019s having such a dangerous time, help her distract herself!\u201d Sargel, twisted in a bundle of the most unexpected thoughts, loomed over the kitchen. Finally, he stopped in front of his wife. \u201cTomorrow. Tomorrow, I will answer you…\u201d Malika silently agreed and returned to the plates. She needed to think things through. It was going to be a fun night ahead, she wondered how many questions he will ask and how she will answer them so as not to alert someone like Sargel? Having barely finished the exams, Bagila left with Malika to the sea. It was true heroism on Sargel\u2019s part. He was exhausted to the point of heartache, until permission was given. Only the presence of his niece next to Malika somehow calmed him. After returning from the airport, Sargel immediate- ly called Karatai. \u201cThank you,\u201d Karatai expressed his gratitude. \u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re treating her with such paternal care.\u201d \u201cDo not mention it!\u201d Sargel replied with deliberate disdain. \u201cOur common duty is to think about procreation. Bagila is our blood, our descendant. We all live for the sake of children!\u201d \u201cNot everyone thinks so…\u201d Sargel was glad that Karatai liked him again and laughed. \u201cBy the way, about that conversation… It seems that she threw him out of her head. Now everything is fine, calm, cheerful. I think sea water will completely wash her off him,\u201d Sargel did not notice that this sounded ambigu- ous, but Karatai was stung by this phrase. \u201cIt will return, and it will be insipid again, as before, without bitterness and without sweetness…\u201d Sargel was clearly carried away, he was very pleased with himself. The next moment his face twisted, as if he were choking. \u201cWhat\u2026? When? No, why?\u201d Surprised, Sargel\u2019s tongue stuck to the sky. \u201cNo, I do not know. I haven\u2019t read. These days many writers get divorced… Yes, they are all good, unless you re-read them! What? So, the grader driver had time, what does he… What? Well, what about the doctor of humanities?! I have lectures, public affairs, eternal fuss in the department. Okay, okay, I\u2019m sorry! Yes, let him be at least three times as good. At least people can live these days, thank god, not bad, why shouldn\u2019t he write well?! We don\u2019t lie down either! Will have to read through. I once had it in my hands, but I can\u2019t understand a damn thing about him, he winds up and… Let him write, I don\u2019t feel sorry for him.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t be offended, I\u2019m just speaking the say way I usually do,\u201d Karatai laughed, feeling that he had hooked Sargel well. \u201cYou\u2019re right, this is a smart position,\u201d Sargel climbed to score points, \u201cWe must also respect the en- emy. Yes, what an enemy he is, he can simply become the cause of various rumours here and there, and you don\u2019t know how I always have to fight against gossip. Actually, I can\u2019t stand the writer\u2019s brethren… They are all womanisers and drunkards! This man is married, has two children, he is criticised every day in the newspapers, but he too\u2026! Well, they say he drinks bitter.\u201d \u201cHey Sarga, you don\u2019t understand me! I\u2019m not talk- ing about wanting to see him as my daughter\u2019s husband. I\u2019m talking about Madiev just as a writer, and I don\u2019t care what he does in his free time. Okay, enough about him! Listen, Sargel, why are you sitting in this dusty city? While they are gone, take the children and come to us. Stay for a bit…\u201d \u201cGod, I wish I could get out. Try to come over…\u201d After finishing the conversation, Sargel breathed a sigh of relief and went out to the balcony to freshen up. The sun had long since set, but the bluish evening light still flickered over the city. Sargel looked at the alley un- der the balcony and tensed, something familiar seemed to him in the figure looming near the entrance. \u201cHey Serbota? Hey, you?!\u201d Serbota froze, caught off guard, then twitched and ran, crouching, around the corner. Sargel shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and thought he had made a fool of himself. Returning to the apartment, Sargel put his hands behind his back and began pacing the rooms. Everything was in order, cleanliness, neatness. Unbeknownst to himself, he found himself in Bagila\u2019s room in front of a photograph of his deceased wife and children. Sargel stopped in front of her, dropped his arms along his body. His eyes suddenly filled with sand… He did not immedi- ately understand what kind of feeling squeezed his heart so prickly, because he forgot when it had last visited him. His eyes felt better, but hot lines appeared on his cheeks… What was that? God, is this loneliness? He\u2019s alone, that\u2019s why he always feels bad. And the children\u2026? How could he forget about his sons?! And on this day, dawn began far in the mountains, marking the peaks of Alatau with a white line. After dinner, Jasyn slept for an hour and sat down at his desk. He had been writing all night and only now stood up and opened the window. Cool, damp air rushed into the room. Jasyn shuddered. His head was pounding unbearably, he sat all night without moving, he smoked a lot. The whole world was waiting for the sunrise with bated breath. The dense crowns of elms and poplars, hanging right above the window, have not yet awakened from their sweet predawn dream. Singing birds fluttered in the calm foliage. How many times did he meet sunrises like this, but they never looked alike. \u201cDawns are like people, each of them has its own disposition, character…\u201d thought Jasyn. He returned to the desk, which stood some distance from the window. A heavy smell of stale tobacco smoke hit his nose. There was a pounding in his temples again. He sank heavily into his chair, bent over what had written during the night. Just two and a half pages! And this was from eight in the evening until five in the morning. Two and a half pages of clean, worked out text in which not a single word has been crossed out. He hated text with blots and did not understand how you can possibly edit your own work. No, he was categorically against such work. \u201cPure art is not born twice,\u201d he believed. \u201cA work of art can not contain individual words; it is not a wall of bricks. Talent and thought are given to the writer so that he immediately finds what he is looking for. If you have to correct yourself in your mind, fiddling with words on paper — that is not creativity, but handicraft.\u201d Colleagues attacked Jasyn from all sides about his: \u201cIt turns out that only you create, and everyone else writes? But what about Pushkin, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky?! Do you think they are all artisans?!\u201d \u201cMan is not a deity,\u201d answered Jasyn. \u201cI don\u2019t bow to meat and bone. All in all, I think in my own way. Do I have the right to write neatly right away?!\u201d Jasyn read the two and a half pages again. He thought, worried, despaired and hoped for a talented engineer, scientist, who would propose to turn the desert into the river to irrigate the land, and suddenly found himself in a dead end. Jasyn liked the text. The door quietly opened, and his father appeared in the opening, wearing a white shirt and white underpants. \u201cWell,\u201d he said belligerently. \u201cSitting from morning to morning again? Are you trying to get into another fight?\u201d \u201cHey, buddy, close the door, will you?\u201d said Jasyn, putting on a stern look whilst looking up and down his father\u2019s appearance. \u201cWhat kind of kindergarten did you run away from?\u201d \u201cLook at you, cheeks sunken, eyes like a hole in a well, you can\u2019t breathe in this room, it\u2019s like the hole of a stinking marmot. Why bother, it\u2019ll be all the same, the newspapers will pounce like wasps. Why are you torturing yourself?\u201d Jasyn laughed out loud. \u201cYou go, buddy, go. The most you can do is choose a last name. Me and the pseudonym will fulfil the role of the father.\u201d \u201cWho is this pseudonym?\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s also something like a father, only prodigal. They are useful when someone is embarrassed by their real name.\u201d Pushing the old man away from the door, his mother entered the room with a bowl. \u201cOh, looks like Sophia Loren is here as well?!\u201d \u201cDrink this,\u201d his mother said softly. \u201cOtherwise, your intestines will stick to back of your spine,\u201d said the father. \u201cGod\u2019s sake, stop talking and go to your room,\u201d the old woman angrily flashed her eyes at the old man. \u201cYou cackle at the light, like a hungry chicken! Come on, let\u2019s not bother him.\u201d And she literally dragged the old man along with her. Jasyn took the bowl. It was millet drink flavoured with kurt. Neither hot nor cold. Just right for a quick drink. It wasn\u2019t prepared last night. It was made today; took at least an hour at most. It turns out that his mother also does not sleep for him! He looked at his watch. Already six. In an hour, his wife and son will get up. Jasyn closed the window, put out the table lamp and already moved into the bedroom, deciding to take an hour\u2019s nap, but then the phone squealed like panicked pig, the buzzer of which was set to the minimum. Jasyn looked at the phone in surprise and picked up the receiver. \u201cI\u2019m listening,\u201d he said so quietly that no one could hear him. On the other end of the wire, a woman literally screamed: \u201cJasyn, is that you?\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cSorry it\u2019s so early, but it\u2019s already dawn. For us it\u2019s…\u201d \u201cWho is it?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s me, Malika.\u201d \u201cWho?!\u201d \u201cMalika. Remember?\u201d \u201cLord, are you from another other world? Malika from where?\u201d \u201cFrom Yalta.\u201d Jasyn was stunned. \u201cHello! I\u2019m listening…\u201d \u201cWe are here… We came here to rest…\u201d Malika\u2019s voice broke off and reappeared a note higher. \u201cBagila is very ill. She is in the hospital. Yesterday\u2026\u201d Malika began to cry. \u201cHow can I help?\u201d It seemed to Jasyn that the sun was beginning to sink back behind the mountains. \u201cYou… must come here. Be sure to come. You will understand everything here. I can\u2019t call for too long, it\u2019s hard for me…\u201d Jasyn, after a little silence, said to her: \u201cAre you out of your mind? It\u2019s not like Yalta is Kaskelen! Do you know how long\u201d Jasyn cut himself off, he was lost for words, he didn\u2019t understand anything. \u201cBesides, how will my arrival help?\u201d \u201cPlease, I\u2019m asking you! At least for two or three days. I didn\u2019t mean to call you, but it happened. Will you come\u2026? I\u2019m running out of coins. I\u2019m calling from a machine. Speak now!\u201d \u201cIt turns out, that I have to play the role of an ambulance, only one that\u2019s being called from Almaty?\u201d \u201cYou have a different role!\u201d Malika screamed so angrily that Jasyn twitched in fear. \u201cIf it will become difficult getting a ticket, then there is a woman in the ninth box office of the agency, her name is Masha. Don\u2019t forget Masha! Refer her to me. Our building is next to the restaurant Priboy\u2026\u201d The call ended, the phone squeaked and rustled like damp wood… \u201cThat\u2019s crazy,\u201d Jasyn thought, freaking out. \u201cThey should call me for serious matters instead of stocking up on pennies! Yalta! When did they even manage to leave? It looks like this was all her idea, that Malika!\u201d After their meeting at the hotel, Jasyn called Bagila twice. Her voice was cold, humiliatingly polite, Jasyn was offended and stopped calling. On reflection, he decided to pull himself together and try to get her out of his head, but as soon as he thought about it, a wound began to grow in his soul. He realised with horror that he could not forget Bagila, that she would live until the last minute in his callous heart, which did not know tenderness. He was not afraid that he would ruin the girl\u2019s life, this was not the main concern for him. He was afraid of one thing, that someday he would get used to her beauty, before which he bowed, and Bagila would become for him as insipid as his wife. Jasyn remembered a parable about a man who, having become engaged to the daughter of a saint, a rare beauty, was inflamed with passion for a woman with a crooked mouth and dull eyes five years later… He thought about something in his office for a long time, then nevertheless went to the bedroom. Silently opened the door. His wife was sleeping, he entered quiet- ly, but she still moved, looked at him through her eyelids swollen from sleep and turned over on her other side. Jasyn took off his dressing gown, stood by the bed, watching his wife sleep, and lay down in their warm bed. He arrived in Simferopol at noon. He rushed to Yalta on a taxi and easily found the Priboy restaurant and their building next to it. A crystal evening grew thick over Crimea. Malika was not in the room. Everything was familiar to Jasyn here, he had been to Yalta several times. Literally last spring, he rested in the Writers\u2019 House of Creativity, and here he finished the first part of his story. In the spring, Yalta seemed deserted, but now the city looked like an anthill. There were no people dressed like Jasyn, he thought that it was simply indecent to walk around in a suit at this time of the year. There was nowhere to stand on the shore, it was entirely filled with human bodies. The day was long over, and the people seem to have grown together with the sand. Vacationers swarm to the very bend of the cape. He bought newspapers and sat on the edge of the bench. On the other side were three girls. They were in a great mood. Jasyn admired their tanned dense bodies from the side. They looked at him, dressed like he was crazy, and began to discuss the plan for the evening. People walked endlessly past the bench. \u201cHow beautiful! Interesting,\u201d Jasyn thought. \u201cIt\u2019s not just a resort here in the summer. It\u2019s a festival of beautiful figures. A competition of stature and passion.\u201d \u201cHey girls,\u201d said the one who was sitting closer to Jasyn. \u201cI completely forgot! Last night I had a wonderful dream. The whole world has become as warm as Crimea, there is no winter at all. Everyone goes around only in bathing suits, and suddenly one person, can you imagine, one out of a thousand, appears in a suit, and instead of undressing, he walks like a white crow, even reads the newspapers! He\u2019s even proud to wear a tie. And what do you think? The police took him. There he was shown how to dress properly!\u201d The girls laughed. Jasyn realised that this whole \u201cdream\u201d was invented only for him, to hook him up. He was ready to respond to them but stopped himself. The girls got back to work. \u201cLook around: do you see any police around here?\u201d They burst out laughing again. Jasyn knew this laugh \u2013 it was carefree, healthy, coming from complete idleness, a feeling of happiness and a desire to please someone, right now, immediately and to the very end. \u201cYes, it\u2019s impossible to approach the educated, what are we compared to them, they know how to read! This unfortunate coast of Crimea! No matter how much it turns into an all-Union reading room!\u201d This time Jasyn could not stand it, he was offended and not overly politely said: \u201cAnd then the god, walking on the water, appeared to the maidens, like mermaids, and said: I leave you here, by the water, forever naked. From now on, you will please my angels and guess their dreams. Remember, if a person rides a bright horse in a dream, they will achieve a high rank, but if they sit next to the king and shakes his hand, they will rise in the service, and if they catch a fish in their dream, they will have a child. If naked people dream, they will soon go crazy… Explain to people the dreams of angels, and do not follow this covenant, my crucifixion awaits you in life … \u201c Their laughter was cut short. The girls looked at him, Jasyn was sitting, still buried in the newspaper. One of them craned her neck. \u201cDid you read that in there?\u201d She asked with child- like curiosity. Jasyn was once again convinced of the female stupidity, grinned to himself, having folded the newspaper neatly, as if it was the most valuable thing, he got up from the bench, like a saint who had come from heaven, and majestically retired, noting with satisfaction that the girls had been blown away by the wind. As soon as he knocked on the door, Malika ran out to meet him. Ignoring the people around them, she im- mediately hugged him. \u201cFinally! I\u2019ve looked all over for you!\u201d She burst into tears. \u201cCouldn\u2019t you have come sooner?\u201d Jasyn felt uneasy from such a meeting. \u201cHow are you?\u201d Jasyn asked, rather rudely removing Malika\u2019s hands from his shoulders. \u201cA little better, but yesterday I was terribly scared, I thought that she might die.\u201d Malika began to cry again. \u201cBagila talks about you all the time. It was you… that hurt her so much. Why did you\u2026? Do it\u2026?\u201d Jasyn didn\u2019t know what to say. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on with her?\u201d He asked when Malika thought to invite him into the room. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know anything, but it turns out she has a bad heart. We decided to move away from you, but you see what happened…\u201d Crimea clearly benefited Malika. Her face was flushed and rounded. Her wrinkles disappeared, and the bruises under her eyes disappeared. She was prepared for Jasyn\u2019s arrival: her short hair was fashionably curled with a small comp. She wore a colourful chintz dress that was deliberately sewn tightly so that her figure was immedi- ately visible. \u201cDamn it,\u201d thought Jasyn. \u201cShe knows her charms well. How self-conscious can these women be, Bagila is in the hospital, and she couldn\u2019t forget to run to the barber. At the same time, she is a good person.\u201d \u201cCan I see her today?\u201d \u201cI have a pass. If we can explain, they\u2019ll let both of us pass. Only… What if she sees you and becomes worse? Let me go in first…\u201d It was already dark when they approached the hos- pital, surrounded by cypresses. It was a completely differ- ent world, silence, deserted. Only the blows of the waves faintly reached the hospital building and the cheerful voice of the guide, who called out to the vacationers on the other side with a megaphone. Realising that Jasyn had come from afar, the doctors allowed him to go into the ward. As they agreed, Malika entered first. She almost immediately returned for him and silently nodded in the direction of the ward. Bagila was sat up on the pillows, the blanket pulled over her chest… She decided to be self-possessed, unresponsive, but when she saw Jasyn, she lost her breath, her heart pounded in a haunted way. Noticing this unexpected excitement, the nurse sitting by the bed was seriously frightened. Here, no one knew what this guy had to do with the patient, but having discovered such a change in behaviour, the lady whispered to Jasyn: \u201cNo more than two minutes, you hear!\u201d Jasyn approached her, Bagila tried to smile, but when he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand, her eyes filled with tears. And Jasyn\u2019s heart sank. He stared with fixed eyes at the thinned girlish finger lying limply in his palms. Their quiet warmth was slowly transferred to him, and Jasyn became agitated, he heard his troubled heart. He thought that after the stupid meeting in the hotel, they were seeing each other like this for the first time in a while, that their separation was impossibly stupid and senseless. Why did they not see each other for so long. He kissed her guiltily on her hot, dry lips. The nurse watched with surprise as Jasyn kissed the patient in front of everyone, and she only closed her eyes and smiled softly. The lady could bet that the girl got better. \u201cThis time your lips smell like medicine,\u201d Jasyn smiled softly. Bagila nodded. \u201cFirst time in a hotel, second time in a hospital. Will there be a third…\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t talk so much.\u201d Jasyn shook his head. \u201cThese days people are even afraid of colds. Don\u2019t be like them.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m sorry that everything turned out like this,\u201d she felt awkward in front of Jasyn. \u201cLika thought up of all this. She\u2019s a great inventor… When are you flying back home?\u201d \u201cWhen you get better.\u201d \u201cOh, I might be lying here for a while, and you have a lot of things to do. And then there is your family…\u201d \u201cStop talking about that,\u201d Jasyn frowned, \u201cAnd finally stop speaking so formally\u201d Bagila looked at him carefully. \u201cYou have become affectionate. Am I wrong?\u201d \u201cGod forbid!\u201d Jasyn answered, although in his heart he admitted that it was so. \u201cI\u2019d be old by now if I did.\u201d Bagila laughed, there was some truth in this joke. The nurse, Malika and Jasyn himself willingly joined her laughter. They also talked about some little things, Jasyn tried to joke. Finally, the nurse remembered why she was in the room and began to rush them. \u201cFly back tomorrow,\u201d Bagila managed to say with ease. \u201cI\u2019m asking from the bottom of my heart.\u201d \u201cAm I going to stop you from getting sick properly if I stay here?\u201d \u201cYes. In this state, it is difficult for me to see you. Besides… my father is arriving in two days. The doctors informed him. If he sees you so suddenly… Well, you understand!\u201d \u201cOf course, I understand\u2026\u201d Jasyn pursed his lips. He started thinking, \u201cHer father will see me and nothing good will come of it. I\u2019ve lived for this, yet there is nothing I can say!\u201d He smiled bitterly. \u201cI\u2019m not allowed to love anymore. I can do everything else; I have the right… These damned rules, nothing ever happens on time. Where was she when I was single when everything was ahead of me? Is it really necessary to lose something equally precious in order to find something else? Why is that?\u201d He fervently squeezed Bagila\u2019s hand. \u201cCome on, when you arrive in Almaty, let\u2019s go and walk in the park?\u201d \u201cAre you going to get some ice cream?\u201d She smiled ironically. \u201cI don\u2019t know, I kind of want some…\u201d He shrugged. \u201cWell first. you need to be in Almaty.\u201d The next day he came to say goodbye to Bagila. \u201cGoodbye, Sur. Remember, the first thing I will do when you arrive in Almaty is drag you to the park!\u201d \u201cOh, what a hero!\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t laugh. I\u2019ll be offended! \u201cLooks like we switched roles! Okay, I\u2019ve already agreed with you,\u201d she turned to the window so that he would not see her tears. Malika rushed to calm Bagila, but her attempt to caress the girl backfired, Bagila wept limply. Malika looked at Jasyn, in her eyes he suddenly read a malicious condemnation and shuddered shiveringly. \u201cHow are the Almaty newspapers? Did they criticise you?\u201d Bagila asked through the tears, saving Jasyn and Malika. \u201cNot yet, but there is still time, they will not miss their chance.\u201d He tried to joke, but Bagila did not accept this tone, Jasyn added quickly: \u201cI will come again, for sure. I\u2019ll bring it to you myself. In a week.\u201d Bagila shook her head. \u201cNo need. I\u2019ll come to you myself.\u201d No more words were needed. He felt that none of them, even the smartest ones, would be more important than Bagila\u2019s last phrase. He silently got up and walked towards the exit. At that moment, the door opened, and Karatai and Turgat entered the ward together with the chief physician. Karatai slashed his gaze, like a whip, on Jasyn\u2019s face. The head physician spoke up. \u201cIt\u2019s bad that you didn\u2019t notice the illness in time,\u201d he said, looking past Karatai. \u201cOf course, it\u2019s not a disaster, modern medicine copes with this diagnosis. To be honest we didn\u2019t have to disturb you, but we had to inform you…\u201d Karatai, listening to the doctor, approached his daughter, pressed his lips to her forehead. \u201cIt\u2019s all my fault, I\u2019m sorry,\u201d he whispered. \u201cHow could I not have noticed! As the father I should have known.\u201d His voice trembled. Karatai turned away, took out a handkerchief, darted furtively into it, and wiped his eyes. After greeting Bagila and Malika, Turgat decided, since he also came from afar, that shaking hands would not be enough, and kissed Bagila on the forehead. Exactly in the place where Jasyn kissed her. \u201cI stuck to my father like a burdock,\u201d Bagila was angry with herself for not having time to move away from this person. \u201cMy father probably doesn\u2019t know why Turgat followed him…\u201d Once Bagila received a letter from Turgat. He wrote that he had built a house of eight rooms, that these rooms were well furnished and that only the most expensive, golden thing was missing — Bagila. He also wrote that he was respected in the region, that Karatai Isaevich didn\u2019t have a soul inside him, but that Turgat himself still cared for him. Turgat reported that he plays sports every day, how he trains his calves and works them every day… In a year, his calves would be able to press 150 kilograms, but, in his opinion, he will master this weight without much difficulty. Bagila involuntarily chuckled and looked at the door. Jasyn was not there. She laid her head on the pillow and sighed wearily. He walked along the crowded avenue, seeing nothing but the biting glance of Karatai, which hit him like knife. \u201cHe looked at me with contempt. He was not surprised that in distant Crimea, in the hospital room of his daughter, there was an unfamiliar Kazakh,\u201d thought Jasyn. \u201cHe recognised me, yes, he knows me. Damn it, how his pupils trembled\u2026! And he, it seems, is not a bad person. What did he say to his daughter? \u2018It\u2019s all my fault, I\u2019m sorry. How could I not have noticed! As the father I should have known.\u2019 He really is tormented…\u201d Suddenly he remembered his own children. He did not know why, but before his eyes, they appeared lying in beds, in a hospital ward. Their eyes were full of tears. And all of his relatives stood in a crowd in the ward. \u201cTheir father will not come,\u201d they said. \u201cHe will never come. He will not shed a tear and say: \u2018It\u2019s all my fault.\u2019\u201d Jasyn felt unwell, the blood pounded painfully in his temples. He was lost, he ended up on the edge of the city. He went out again to the street leading to the centre. He wandered without any meaning or purpose. When the sun hit the sea horizon and the water turned golden, he went to the bus station. It was fifteen minutes before the bus left. The passen- gers were already seated. There were no tickets. As Jasyn approached, appearing suddenly out of nowhere, Malika ran up and stood at the entrance of the \u2018Ikarus\u2019 bus. \u201cOh, thank god, where did you go? I almost lost my mind!\u201d She blurted out, barely catching her breath. \u201cThe bus is about to leave.\u201d \u201cSo what, if I don\u2019t take this one, then there is al- ways the next one. The plane is at twelve o\u2019clock.\u201d \u201cWhat a calm person you are! Fine, fly how you want to fly. There will be no more buses after this, and you\u2019ll die of boredom on the bus-tram.\u201d Jasyn noted of Malika\u2019s efficiency with pleasure. In Yalta, where you won\u2019t find a plane ticket if you need to fly urgently during such hot summer days, she man- aged to get one. \u201cWithout such people, life is not life,\u201d thought Jasyn. And no one appreciates her. Besides, she is pretty. Still, a woman should be beautiful! As if afraid that she would read his thoughts, Jasyn averted his eyes from Malika. \u201cAfter you left, Bagila felt bad, but now it\u2019s easier… You see, they completely forgot about you!\u201d she said in a playful tone. They laughed as they looked at each other. \u201cI think you must be the instigator of this whole mess?\u201d \u201cYes I am!\u201d Malika coquettishly adjusted her already well-fitting straw hat. \u201cA straw hat suits you,\u201d Jasyn necessarily complimented. \u201cWhen are the guests leaving?\u201d \u201cAh, yes,\u201d Malika said, clapping Jasyn on the shoulder. \u201cKaratai asked about you. I was scared to death. I thought he would tear my head off, but he didn\u2019t even say a word against it. I don\u2019t think he hates you that much. But this Turgat! Oh boy!\u201d She put her hands on her head. \u201cHe is planning to take Bagila to Almaty himself. Karatai is flying back tomorrow, but this one is staying here…\u201d Jasyn looked straight at her. And Malika did not lower her eyes. A blush appeared on her cheeks and be- gan to quickly spread over her face. Realising this, she fluttered her eyelashes. \u201cWhen we return, will you be in Almaty?\u201d Malika asked pointedly. \u201cWhat do mean \u2018when we return?\u2019 I said I\u2019m going back before that…\u201d \u201cNo need. That guy is going with us. He doesn\u2019t like you. In general, he does not like writers at all.\u201d Jasyn lit a cigarette, looked distantly as the smoke dissipated. \u201cI know.\u201d \u201cHow? Did Bagila tell you?!\u201d Malika was surprised with his immediacy. \u201cNo, I can see it myself, I guessed from his eyes. For such people, ambition replaces intelligence. This is visible to the naked eye.\u201d Malika listened with undisguised admiration. The bus hummed warningly. \u201cI\u2019ll walk you to the airport,\u201d Malika said languidly. \u201cAre you out of your mind? To go all the way to Simferopol? Besides, you don\u2019t have a ticket.\u201d \u201cRemember, Malika is a great specialist when it comes to tickets. I can even get a ticket for yesterday\u2019s plane!\u201d She laughed. \u201cNo. Stay close to Bagila. Perhaps Karatai is looking for you.\u201d \u201cI told him…\u201d \u201cWhat exactly did you say that you decided to come and see me off?!\u201d \u201cNothing you need to worry about. What\u2019s wrong with telling him, let him know…\u201d He just shook his head. \u201cYou\u2019re a tough nut to crack,\u201d he said, emphasising the \u2018you\u2019 specifically. Malika lowered her eyes modestly. Jasyn climbed the first step and immediately looked back: Malika\u2019s eyelashes were trembling, holding back tears. Jasyn, wanting to cheer her up, said to her with a laugh: \u201cSo, you haven\u2019t been able to come up with a nick- name for me for several years now, have you?\u201d Malika, like a child admitting their guilt, spread her hands… He watched her until the bus rounded a rocky hill… Again and again, he thought about Bagila, that now they would not strive to forget each other, about the words of the father to his daughter, coming from his heart, about Malika\u2019s recent tears. Why was that woman crying? He will never know this. Somehow, the fatigue that had accumulated over the past weeks immediately flooded in. In a light, half-sleep on the road, his wife and two children again stood before his eyes. God, why is he seeing them in the hospital room? Why are people\u2019s faces so pale\u2026? And the children? And they too… What are his relatives doing here? They seem to be saying… Yes, he clearly hears: \u201cTheir father will not come. He will never come. He will not slip through and say: I\u2019m sorry, it\u2019s all my fault.\u201d 1979 Translated from Russian by Timur Akhmedjanov Edited by Gareth Stamp Typeset Alexandra Rey<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
PART ONE … She was not yet eighteen years old, and life always seemed kind, fabulously beautiful and at any moment, as long as you can think of it, it can give you everything good and joyful that is in the world! Their family was the most famous in the district, and her parents believed that their daughter should not …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[184],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-737","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-novels"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=737"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":740,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions\/740"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=737"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=737"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/isabekov.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=737"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}