At the big wooden table, in half darkness, everyone was silent.

My named mother, who was called Marie, was making half-damp wood bonfires on a sooty wall, smoking the whole room in the process. But the caustic smoke, before it had time to settle down on the floor, rushed the dark sleeves into a lonely opening under the ceiling.

As a non-smoker, I had a hard time. I even dived under the table until the smoke cleared. But it didn't help me much. Clearing my throat, I again took my rightful place at the table, waiting for the promised stew.

My recent offender sat imperturbably opposite me, as if nothing had happened. He looked from under his brows with an offended, prickly look straight into my eyes. And the ten-year-old girl clinging to him, looking from her disobedient brother to her hunched-over father and back, watched our dramatic duel with apprehension.

Marie did not interfere in our games. Martin, who received a good beating, behaved quieter than water and lower than grass. And all he dared to do was this strange duel.

I prepared quite thoroughly for our meeting. Marie stuffed almost a whole bagel into me, pouring half a liter of goat's milk into my mouth. So I even had the advantage before hungry hunchback, who did not sleep all night.

But strange thing! Looking into the eyes of this elderly man, who saw many things in his life and had complete superiority over me in terms of physical strength, I absolutely did not feel any threat from him. Moreover, in his prickly eyes, I could clearly see that he was remorseful, and deeply sorry for what had happened!

How could I understand it? Everything was very simple. I also used to look at my sons-robbers like that after another stupid conflict that ended with a small but spanking. And how can you live without them, without conflicts!

And I, realizing that nothing else happened that another trick of a naughty and wayward son, who could piss off everyone and everything in this house, I decided to start our relationship with Martin from scratch. Moreover, my present life depended on this person. As a senior manager, I was able to resolve conflicts in the team. And without saying anything, I extended my hand palm up to Martin. It was an acknowledgment that I understood everything and was completely open to dialogue. Your move, dad!

The dumbfounded named father blinked his eyes at the unexpected turn of events, and in the light of the flame it even seemed to me that a mean, masculine tear rolled down his face. He fidgeted on the bench, not knowing what to do. But his funny daughter decided everything for both of us. She took her father's huge hand and placed it in mine, following her action with the words:

— Reconcile you at last! The second year, both of you live like a Koti with a dog ... How long can you live like that!

— Can't be! Holy Saints! At last, you listened to the old woman! — The old woman, milking a well—known goat, appeared on the threshold. She continued her speech:

— So I was wrong. You are not a complete idiot. No, I don't go back on my words. A brat — he is a brat. But you are clearly changing your behavior tactics, and this cannot but rejoice ...

Then the old woman, having hesitated a little, nevertheless shouted from the threshold.

— Marie, daughter! Do you mind if Duck and Lyla join us for dinner? They also have a drink. But they have no food to bring with them ... — The old woman screamed even louder so that the floor of the street could hear. And without waiting for an answer, she continued her monologue:

— No? Are you always glad to see your mother's friends? That's good. Come in!

Marie looked sternly and menacingly at the old woman who entered. But when the old woman and the old man, whom I recently met on the street, came in, Marie smiled playfully, as if nothing had happened.

— And we came with our drink! — Proudly said the old man. We are not going to eat all your food supplies! We just want to sit for the company ... Talk ...

— Yes, for the company! — The old woman confirmed it.

— So I can avoid offering you to eat? Marie quickly broke off their polite speeches.

The old man and the old woman looked at each other in fear. Grandfather even licked his lips.

Well, why not invite us to eat. You can treat us to something ... — The old man mumbled barely audibly.

— So, yes or no?

— Yes! — The old people yelled in unison.

— What "yes"?

— Feed us!

— Well, they would have said so, otherwise they staged a circus here! — Marie clearly did not like the neighboring couple and put a bowl on the table for everyone except herself.

Martin looked at his wife questioningly.

— I don't want to sit at the same table with them! — she cried, almost bursting into tears, in response to the look of her husband.

— Marie! Fourteen years have passed! Maybe enough to be offended!

— Yes, daughter, people brought liquor! — The old woman supported her son. — Forget the past, and lose the eye!

— I didn't even remember! — Marie screamed through her tears. — And all this time, I even smiled and said hello! And now I almost lost my son again! And you, such bastards, again reminded of yourself!

— What have we done? — The old men looked at each other in surprise.

— Do both of you mean you don't remember anything? — Marie sneered.

— No ... — the old woman spread her hands.

— What kind of nonhumans are you! You can't even remember this ... Well, nothing, I'll remind you ...

— Maybe not before the children? — Suddenly my grandmother interfered.

— No, let them know what their neighbors are! And you see, they, nonhumans, are respected and listened to more than Martin and me, because they are older!

Marie wiped away her tears with the hem of her dress and, looking into my eyes, for some reason told the story of my appearance in this house.

— Koti, when they left you on the doorstep, they didn't leave you on our doorstep, but under the windows of those people ... And if Martin hadn't woken up in the middle of the night after another terrible nightmare and hadn't gone outside to breathe, he wouldn't have seen how these two monsters were strangling a newborn child with his own white sheet! And then they wanted to feed you, my dear boy, to the pigs! It was then that Martin snatched the almost breathless baby from their vile paws and took it into our family! — Excited Marie, being confused with the words because of her emotions, betrayed the whole terrible truth about this couple.

And now I almost lost you again...

— So what?! — Suddenly the grandfather broke out. — Yes, it is true, we wanted to strangle the newborn foundling! If we strangled, then you would not have to suffer with him! For two years, like a crazy person, he has been running around the city and looking for his real mother! But the real mother, by the way, is not the one that gave birth and abandoned, but the one that raised! And even now he doesn't appreciate both of you, such a brat! No matter how hard you try!

As bitter as it was to admit, the old man was absolutely right about the real mother! — I thought, looking from the outside at this Greek tragedy. But still, it was somehow completely wrong to strangle children, especially if it was concerning me personally.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

— And we thought that most likely we would give this child to you! — Suddenly the old man continued, — But you already had three mouths starving. And the old woman and I also had absolutely nothing to eat! We ourselves ate, survived! At that moment, we took pity on you, we decided to take a sin on our souls! And what a sin it would be if no one needed a child! Unless pigs could need him... — The old man finished his speech and plopped down on a bench.

Dead silence reigned around.

— Marie, dear, let the guests eat. And take a seat yourself. — The owner of the house spoke in a calm, but brooking no objection, tone.

Finished with a meal of bread at the bottom of my plate and some completely inedible bean stew, I sat dazed and savored a very strange-tasting liquor poured for me and my sister on the occasion of my second birthday. And suddenly, after an almost half—hour pause, the guests started talking again.

— No more power! How much can you endure this monster! — Our Grandmother was distressed. — Double tax! Pay for the land! He took his grandchildren into recruits! Who will be able to help the father?

— So you don't pay for the land! — The old man was indignant at her lamentations.

How we do not pay??? And who has to feed these pigs and clean up after them? You can't go into the yard, the stench is so terrible. Does that mean "we don't pay"? Only one goat-nurse remained!

— But you don't really pay! — The old man insisted. A foundling can both clean and feed. Or does he have no time? All what he is doing is looking for his mother—villain!

Everyone looked suspiciously gloomy at the handsome me.

— Guys, what am I guilty of? I myself do not like it if someone shirks from work! Yes, I just found out today what my name is in general! — I was quite rightly indignant at the unreasonable attack on me by the neighbors, lowing a little.

— He only knows how to mumble! You should have taught him how to write by now! — The drunken old man gave me quite practical advice. — And all because you feel sorry for him! Martin — that, Martin — this ... What kind of man that cannot have a firm hand over a wife, and especially a son ! Ugh, — what a rag!

— Old man, are you judging by yourself? — My named dad suddenly asked, who carried the girl who had fallen asleep at the table to the bench and suddenly appeared behind me.

— And even if so! — The guest was completely unrestrained. — Whatever your wife won't tell you, you run and do it. Did you hear that my old woman interrupted me at least once today? No. That's where these bitches should be kept! — The old man put forward his fist of decent size.

— Whom, you, old cretin, call bitches here? Maybe my mother or daughter are bitches? Or hostess?

— Everyone! All women are bitches! And you ... — The old man pointed his finger at Martin, — here, I'm an old fool, I forgot what the word is called ... Well, you understand!

— No, I didn't understand. If you say something, then finish it! You are officially a guest. What are you afraid of? The whole street heard that you were invited.

— I'll tell you! You are a pissed rag, not a man. If you were a man, you would take this unlucky silent idiot by the ear, with a kick, and slam him against the door jamb! And then you would punch him a couple more times in his mooing muzzle! Yes, so that he did not immediately understand where he was! — The old man blurted out, becoming sick with envy. — And would not lick it like a gingerbread! Do you think, I don't remember how you messed with it? You dragged him to the doctors, to the old women-witches! Instead of giving him with giblets as servants, you could receive good money for him, join the guild and have the opportunity to live happily ever after! You lisped with him more than with your own children! And in gratitude, this mooing bastard can not even clean the pigsty. Everything for him! Your mother tells me everything! All the same, you prevented us then in vain! If we strangled this bastard that time, you would say thank you now!

Martin lowered his eyes.

— Son, forgive me for today. Okay? I just don't know how to explain to you... You won't find her, your own mother... You don't need to go there... I understand you, she is your mother. But we are also your parents. Yes, we have no money even for a piece of meat. But my mother and I are trying... You see how hard times are... Do you forgive me?

I almost sobered up. The young, obviously not strengthened body, with difficulty defeating a strong drink brought by the old man, nevertheless got up and nodded approvingly. And I extended my hand to my father again. In response, he walked around the table, pressed me to him, patted my unruly hair, and hugged me tightly. Mary joined us...

And all the same disgruntled old man intervened again and completely spoiled this exciting moment.

— Ugh! You still in the ass of this bastard kiss! A rag, she's a rag and ... — The old grumbler did not have time to finish.

I jumped over the table in two steps, and pushing off from him with my hands, in flight, with my whole body from two legs, targeted the old man right into his stinking mouth. He was blown away like by the wind, and he crashed to the floor, losing consciousness.

His wife, dumbfounded, looking first at me, then at the old man, suddenly went up to the old man, and began to kick him on the ribs, saying.

— You say that I am a bitch! Here's to you, old bastard, for my crippled life! — Marie and Martin barely pulled her away from the hated old man.

I vaguely remember what happened next. Grandfather was seated at the table, given a mug of liqueur in his hand, into which Baba Laila spat savory beforehand.

My new dad and I drank the rest of the unusual-tasting liqueur, and I peacefully dozed off on the bench ...

I woke up in the middle of the night and went outside to take a piss. Since I had no idea where they had the toilet here, I took a piss right from the doorway into my favorite mud, bringing its composition almost to the ideal. Returning to the house, I noticed a dim light in the workshop.

Approaching the door to a fenced—off, separate room, I found Martin there, who had fallen asleep right at his desk.

I have already realized a hundred times that I am not my own son. And for someone like me, at best, a place in a pigsty! Or with my unbearable character on the menu of the same pigs. But they are messing with me, like I'm two years old. I don't understand anything! Instead of wiping his feet on me, he spends his time looking for my offenders. And he beat me only because of fear! Fear of losing me! So that I don't run into this strange castle anymore ...

Maybe I'm wrong. But in those primeval times, children didn't seem to be much favored. These are if we talk about their own children. And about non-relatives, it was not worth talking about.

And this one, asked for forgiveness from me, from such an unlucky bastard... Something is clearly wrong here ...

No, I don't argue. Maybe Martin is just a good man, unlike the same old man. He saved the child, and takes care of him as if he were his own. Like, we are responsible for those who have tamed. This option, in principle, was suiting me the most.

But he rushed into the icy, seething water! And I remember this river, which I saw in a dream, well. It wasn't just water. Ice blocks were floating there at breakneck speed. I have doubts that I could get out of there, even if I was a young champion! And this one, not only got out on his own, but also saved me! Well, or your own foundling, as you wish. It's all strange...

But be that as it may, I'm not used to being a burden. And I resolutely went to the newly—minted dad. His hunched figure snored peacefully in sweet alcoholic oblivion, right with a thick needle in his hands on the floor of a finished stitch in a leather blank. Nearby stood another, but already finished shoes. After carefully examining the seam, I realized that there was nothing compliKotied about it. And the main work, apparently, was in the precise cutting of pieces of leather according to given patterns and in taking the dimensions of these same patterns. And then — everything just stitched together to the heap. Or not just...

Having poked the borrowed needle into the skin, I realized that I was stupid for it and I would not pierce it with my childish hands for anything. I will stab my own fingers more fast. And through and through.

Now, if only that hefty crooked needle, which was used in my workshop to alter leather chairs in the Land Cruiser, was here ... I perfectly remembered how I asked to hold it in my hands and immediately pricked myself. The needle was very sharp...

I clearly and visibly imagined how my cherished, sharp, crooked needle appears on my fingertips ... And I imagined it so clearly that I even felt its presence with my fingertips ...

Ding! The sound of falling metal snapped me out of my stupor. Something slipped from my fingers, hit the antique scissors, and then fell to the floor. I was looking for the fallen object, through the dark. But he disappeared somewhere.

OK. I'll start tomorrow morning not to be a burden. And, to be honest, being a shoemaker is definitely not my choice! I'd rather clean the pigs! Keeping this thought in my mind, and staggering, I went to the bed.

***

But before I had time to close my eyes, my, apparently, my own grandmother woke me up. Leaning over me and smiling with all her three and a half teeth, she wailed cheerfully:

— You, my grandson, sleep too much! It's already noon! Your mother asked me not to wake you. But how long can you sleep? Let's go!

— Where? — I didn't understand. Only mumbling naturally, m—m.

— How where? — To the church, of course! Today they will give bread for free. But only to citizens with serious disabilities. And you are crippled with us ... Come on, even though it's not far, the road after this fiancé's convoy — you can't imagine worse! And he, accursed, could not come in dry weather ... Such an impatient! And by the way. They say that the groom himself and the princess will distribute alms!

— I won't go! I'll sleep better! — I lay down on the bench again, having heard about such nonsense as a loaf of bread. Crawling there in front of a thirteen—year—old fool girl with outstretched hand in the midst of this quiet, medieval horror? Noway. I'd rather clean out the pigs!

— You'll go like obedient one, you must go! — Yesterday, the guests gobbled up all the earnings! Grandpa woke up twice. It wasn't enough for him! He asked — what so strange was in his dream? He dreamed that someone's legs were flying at him! Of course, well done to you, that you obeyed the old woman and reconciled with your father. I even started to respect you, brat! And this old goat deservedly hit in the face. Just don't tell anyone about this! You cannot offend the guests. But there's nothing to eat again ... — Grandmother thought a little, and then laughed. — About "do not speak", I was certainly in a hurry. Let's. And then there will be nothing left for us!

— What about the pigs? — I mumbled my last iron argument. Because I did not want to watch at all, and even more so to participate in this circus of freaks. But the grandmother was adamant. And even, in some miraculous way, she understood what I asked her about.

Your pigs won't die! Go, my dear, go. It's not every day that bread is given away for free by princesses with grooms ...