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Richter

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The sun roasted as usual. The whole class was suffocating in the stuffiness of the passing summer. As if it foreshadowed its extinction, it decided to incinerate the environment. Thin green silk curtains did not help the situation. They served only as a small fan, bringing hot air from the window, causing tiresome sighs from students.

In these circumstances, no one seems to have listened to what the teacher said. Although he was also busy with a more important task — waving his hat in front of a face that brought him only a second’s satisfaction, spreading the suffocating smell of sweat to everyone else. To be fair, almost no one was embarrassed by such tangible inconvenience. We understood that in a room of 30 square meters for twenty-five students and one teacher it was impossible to find someone who would not lock up in the heat of 40 degrees. And we sat there until the bell that marked the end of the lesson.

One smooth stream of students left the school, and I joined a couple of my friends. Unfortunately, all three of us were in different classes, but that didn’t stop us from getting together after school and wandering around town.

— I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going abroad with my parents in a week. — Like a dude, Simon pouted his cheeks eating his veggie sandwich.

— Are you allowed to leave? Oh, you’re younger than me and Richter! It’s not fair,— Harry said. — I want to go abroad too.

— Don’t be jealous. I’ll bring you the pictures. — Said Simon with his eyes rolled.

— Ha-ha-ha, — the boy said ironically. —Richter, do you believe him? Even you and I don’t have passports!

I stopped for a while; my friends repeated me. I gathered all the seriousness in my eyes by pointing it at Harry before my lips shook in a crooked grin. I looked up at the sky.

— Well, actually, how can I say it gently... even you don’t have a passport.

Simon burst into laughter, pointing his finger at a boiling friend. His face became so red that his ears could steam. I ran forward with Simon, leaving the screaming Harry, who had already started chasing us, behind. I was running the fastest.

In fact, Harry wasn’t angry with us. It was a manifestation of his simple, boyish enthusiasm. Well, maybe a little envy.

We ran straight to the central square. It was huge. The tall buildings surrounded the street, like the gate of a zoo that was a few kilometers away. Every one of them had all kinds of cafeterias, shopping centers, work offices, which means there was a crowd of unemployed people like us in the afternoon. People used to go here and there. Old people used to sit on the benches and feed pigeons. Moms used to walk little children. Teenagers like us have always occupied buffets or an obscenely wide fountain right in the middle of this teeming action. In summer it was especially popular. The constant pressure of water, which transformed into a wet cloud, was like a breath of fresh air. Nice and refreshing.

Without wasting time, Harry dropped his shoes, rolled his trousers to the knees and went into the water. Simon and I sat on the side a little further away, like we didn’t even know Harry, like, look, we weren’t with him.

— Oh, well, where are all the coins? —complained the boy. He was so desperate to sweep the bottom with his feet, you’d think he was looking for a missing relative.

— My dad said there were a lot fewer tourists this year because of the way things were going, — and Simon said the same thing.

— What things? What about the coins? —panicked Harry, looking for more money.

My knowledgeable friend snorted.

— You won’t need them, you moron. Change-of-exchange points will stop working, too.

– What?! Why?

Simon twisted a serious face, staring Harry straight into the soul.

— Politics, dummy.

— Totally sucks, — the boy almost sat on my hat. I picked it up pretty fast.

— Is it really that bad? — I looked at the fountain’s murky water, wondering how Harry had managed to find wealth before. Did he have a nose for bronze or whatever the coins were made of?

— Yeah, when Dad broke his leg, we got the insurance money. But there’s barely enough of them for the three of us, so I have to be the breadwinner for the family, — and he punched himself in the chest with a fist. I felt a slight contradiction. — But you bought chips and soda with the exchanged coins?

— That’s right, Harry, you’re wasting it all on yourself! — Simon was in a wave of laughter again.

— That’s... of course I spent money to feed myself to not burden my parents with buying food for me! — The boy tried to get out of it as best as he could, sweating or from the heat or from the shame.

— Yes, and then you had to eat a double bowl of spaghetti, — I couldn’t stop laughing at my poor friend.

As soon as Simon wanted to say the punch line about our money-hungry Harry, my father’s shadow covered the sun.

— How’s going, boys? — He always had a wide smile on his face.

— Hello, Mr. Camelford! — My friends groped in one voice.

I never understood why they looked at my father with such admiration. He was not the secretary of the diplomat that Simon’s father was. He did not wear elegant suits, he very rarely used perfumes, he did not go to important meetings. Just like he wasn’t an office clerk like Harry’s dad, making reports day and night behind these huge things they call computers. My father was a simple construction worker who slipped away from the break just to remove the top of a heavy and sweaty work overalls smeared in dust, putting his pale back to the sun. He also came to see me and rub my hair. Dad always knew that after school I was sitting by the fountain with friends.

Maybe Simon and Harry wanted their fathers to come see them in the middle of the day for a few minutes, too?

— Can you come in early today? — I noticed my father looking towards his workplace: a covered canvas of a tall building. Everybody says in about three years, there’s going to be an entertainment center for kids and teenagers.

— I don’t know. I’ve had a lot of work lately. We can’t keep up with the schedule, so this time I can’t. I’m sorry, kiddo. Will you kiss mom for me?

I only had the strength to nod. It was bitter to realize that the storm had spoiled all his work, and he and his team had to start the three-month project again. The salary because of this incident decreased, but my dad did not work less. Only the opposite. Sometimes I wondered why mom couldn’t go to work. Why would she sit at home all day listening to stupid radio?

— Okay, kids, I gotta run, or the guys are gonna notice that I’m missing out again. Bye-bye, — my father waved his hand as he hurried to throw his overalls on.

— Goodbye, Mr. Camelford! — He was accompanied in unison by the voices of my comrades.

I just mentally wished him luck for the rest of the shift.

— Well, let’s run to the buffet and then look at the port? — Simon jumped off the side of the fountain ready to go to the store.

I also got up and reached into my pocket, where my wallet used to be, and realized one very hurtful thing.

— Guys, I left the money at home.

— Oh, my God, again? It takes thirty minutes to get to your house. — Harry put wet feet in his socks with a sour face.

— Oh. — It sounded from Simon. He wasn’t so happy to go to the port. — I forgot to buy bread.

— You’ve got to be kidding me. — Harry took a hard breath, clearly tormented by some dilemma. — I so wanted to see the bridge... all right you two, go get your bread, and I’m gonna go home. It’s gonna be a long time to wait for you.

— Traitor. — Simon said in a tawdry way.

We said goodbye to Harry and ran towards my house. Simon was on his way with me, because the bakery was only a few streets from my house.

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— I’ll wait for you at the entrance of the bakery.

I nodded to Simon and rushed to my house. It was a seven-floor building, what was commonly called an anthill. Old, not repairable for a long time, but so cozy that you will not notice the strewn walls, and faulty light bulbs on the staircases. I literally took off to my fourth floor, in front of the entrance to the apartment slightly slowing down. In the entrance there was an echo, so anyone could hear me. I realized I was in danger of never leaving the house again if my mother smelled my presence. First, she’d put me to eat, then leave me to watch my sister, maybe let me go to the store, but then straight back! There were days when I didn’t even come home to drink — so much I didn’t want to be interrupted by playing outside. Oh, that were some great days.

I wiped my feet on the mat, I grabbed the doorknob and—

— Closed?

I have estimated all possible options for the closed door. Mom went to the store? Went to the neighbors for tea? Just forgot that I still have to come back? But not one of them was very suitable. I looked around, my eyes caught on the bedside table in the corridor where the Ficus stood. I slapped my palm on my forehead. Of course! Mom is in the backyard with my sister. When they go out for a walk, Sally always rips off a few leaves. No one could get her out of it. We came to the conclusion that it was her special ritual and left her alone.

Stolen novel; please report.

I went down to the first floor again, wrapped up to the door that was near the black exit. It led first to a long corridor that was already exiting the playground inside the backyard. Because of the structure of the houses nearby, they formed the letter "П", fencing off the site with their own walls. The fourth side was isolated off by a simple metallic fence that was facing the street. It was not very convenient, but this way, mothers, without breaking from the cooking, could without fear let the children out. Well, I did not like to play so. The high walls and the windows with a couple hundred eyes from the apartments were pressing too much.

So, I stopped at the door when I heard two women’s voices. My dad always said that my hearing was very sharp, so the distance of five meters from the bench on which the interlocutors sat, and the noise of the street was not a barrier for me.

— ... killed, — said Victoria, mom’s neighbor. Through a click, I saw her sitting half a turn, facing the door. She didn’t see me in the dark of the hallway.

My mother gasped.

— Killed?! — This phrase shocked me too. The fingertips became cold, and the back shivered. Killed, but who?

At the same moment, my mom turned on my sister, who was playing with another girl in the sandbox. The kids were so busy playing fake cakes that they didn’t pay any attention to the grown-up conversation.

But for me it was interesting. My mother never liked to tell me any news. My father, too, was always silent about what was happening in the world. And I hated it. Why keep me in the ignorance? I wasn’t even allowed to turn on the radio myself! My teeth creaked. Yeah, I got distracted again.

— ... I was told that in her town it’s been two weeks... ...tations, — continued Victoria. It was hard for me to hear everything, so I had to gently open the door. I was lucky it didn’t squeak like the last time. Oh, what I got for eavesdropping. They got my ears twisted.

My mom was sitting her back to me, and I wasn’t afraid she’d notice.

— And in the newspapers, not a word about it.... Usually, this is always said. Something is wrong here, — mom sighed hard, obviously worried about something.

— You think? They just don’t want to panic, that’s all.

— But if everyone says the Minister was murdered, isn’t that a cause for public discontent?

— I don’t know. For me his last speech was a little radical. "Freedom for the people, truncheon for the top" calls for direct violence! Without a parlament, everyone will go to anarchy."

— I’ve heard stories that in other countries, some people are actually being oppressed.

— Things can’t be that bad! Well, how can you be oppressed if you have a roof over your head, bread and work? About fifty years ago, these people lived in shacks. They don’t appreciate gestures of goodwill at all.

This phrase was cut in the ears of both of us. Sometimes Victoria did not watch her language.

— ...

— I’m sorry, Lorena, I forgot... um... you know, next week—

I decided it would be the best time to show up. If I had stayed a few more minutes, they might have noticed something.

Lorena, aka mom, turned around. At that hour, a smile shone on her face like dad’s, and she opened her arms for a hug.

— Richter, honey, good afternoon, — she squeezed me to a grunt, as usual, and then she took off my hat and pulled my hair.

— Ow-ow! You'll tear it off.

— It’s time for you to get to the hairdresser, — laughing, my mother lightly pushed me away.

— Hello, Mrs. Victoria. — I said in welcoming voice.

— Hi, Richter. You grow up every day! God see, soon you’ll be helping dad at work.

— Sure, right now, — mom said, very unsatisfied. — I’m not gonna let him rip his back off like Patrick does.

— I’m kidding! I heard the cadet academies are gaining popularity. Have you ever thought about going there after school? — My mom’s friend ran her fingers in her hair, scattering them a little.

I was always wondering how can she walk around with all this hair down in such a heat? One day, dad mentioned that Victoria had lost her husband while she was pregnant, and that perhaps by dressing up in her best clothes and using her strongest perfumes, she was trying to draw attention to herself. Even now, her cherry red jumpsuit attracted a lot of men’s views from the street.

— No. I was told by elders there was a lot of fighting to do.

Mom threw a laugh.

— You’re a man, you shouldn’t be afraid of fighting or blood! How will you defend your wife?

I shrugged my shoulders a little.

— I’ll buy us a house in the lonely woods.

This phrase caused a loud laughter from both women. I was a little annoyed. All grown-ups have always tried to bring violence to the defense of their loved ones, but is there no other way to protect them?

— Ma, give me the keys to the apartment, I want to run to the buffet, — I waved my hand at Sally. She noticed me and did the same, but she didn’t run up as usual. Sand cooking must have required all the concentration.

— Oh, buy more bread for dinner. There are a couple of quarters in the nightstand. And don’t linger! Come home before dark.

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— You took a lot of time, — Simon tossed his coins in the air, elegantly catching them.

I only snorted, going to the bakery of Aunt Pan. From the bakery always smelled of butter, sugar, poppy and, of course, bread itself. This place was my favorite among other bakeries. Maybe because Grandma Pan lived in our house, or maybe because she was the most pleasant.

— Hello-hello boys, — Pan came by.

She was a good old lady. Collecting gray hair in a bundle, putting thick glasses on her humpbacked nose, putting poisonous red lipstick on her lips, she hurried to work. Even with the cane she was tapping on the floor now, this woman was able to outrun me on the stairs.

— Hi, Grandma Pan, I want to buy bread and this bun, — Simon leaned on his tiptoes, as usual, in his businesslike manner, pointing his finger at the furriest and largest bun filled with the most disgusting raisins.

— Well, well, one loaf and one pain aux raisins for the white-haired prince. What are you willing to buy, a black-haired monsieur?

— I’ll have two baguettes and a hotdog, please. — I saw a woman rushing to wrap our order in a paper bag, singing on the way.

According to the other neighbors, she was always on her mind, happy-go-lucky I would say. How she managed to inherit the bakery among the other four children in her family was always a mystery. There were rumors that Pan just poisoned everyone and bewitched her father. But it was nonsense. In those days, children often died of fever, and joyless parents tried to keep afloat. At least, so told my mother. She still has a small scar near her left eyebrow when she had a fever as a child.

— Eat boys, eat well. — Grandma said when we paid her off and said goodbye.

Simon and I spent the rest of the day very simply. We walked the streets near our houses. We looked at the buildings, discussed their appearance. Playing the "What if..." game, trying to come up with some scary story about this or that apartment building.

— ... and then they built walls on their bones!

— It makes no sense. How can ghosts keep tools if they’re transparent? — It wouldn’t be the first time Simon tried to intimidate me with fictional horror stories that would only make my eyes roll.

— Well, they could have possessed the tools and built it like that! — The friend would finish off the bread, drinking the soda he bought on the way.

He could buy lemonade and sodas every week and brag in front of us when I could afford those drinks every two weeks and Harry could never dream of such regularity.

— Anyway, it would take a long time. How many ghosts must be there, a hundred? How would they be there?

— You’re just a bore. You keep asking all sorts of questions, and you’re annoying everyone. — Resentful, he muttered something else under his nose, but I didn’t hear.

The lonely cat next to the dumpster caught my attention.

— Look. — I pulled my friend’s sleeve.

— Cat? — He followed me with no interest.

I just snorted. Simon didn’t know much. He always had a chance to pet his cat Ginger, but I never had a pet. Parents were terribly allergic to cats, and it was expensive to keep another hungry, ungrateful mouth!

The animal licked its coated wool in some places, completely unaffected by my cautious approach. I crouched and reached out to him to pet his ear.

The skin was suddenly burnt. The cat hissed and ran away, and I took my arm off. The stars were visible before my eyes — the pain was so sharp. I felt my nose start to drink and my eyes start to pinch. I had to pull my head to take my mind off things.

— It looks bad, — Simon groped, looking at three red scratches on my forearm. I was trying to breathe calmly.

— No, it’s... it’s fine. It’ll heal soon. I just have to rinse it with water.

— If you catch an infection and die, I’ll tell everyone of what stupid reason. — Even here, he took the opportunity to mock.

— I can’t die of an infection, — I was burrowing, straightening my back. —Come on, we’ve lost a lot of time!

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In addition to looking at the port after school by three, two of us would sometimes meet on rooftops. Because everyone in the neighborhood knew me and Simon, there was no problem asking some old lady to open the door for us. Then we would climb up to the very last floor, sit almost at the edge, hang our legs and watch life on the streets. But I didn’t really look at people. I was interested in buildings.

As I noticed, most houses had flat roofs that didn’t have chimneys. Most pensioners referred to such houses as collective coffins, as they were heated either by gas or fuel oil, for which they had to pay monthly. And if you didn’t pay - it is your problems. You'll sit cold in the middle of winter. And the water was the same. At every step, you were dependent on an imaginary crane driven by a third person.

— You know, sometimes I wondered, what if I lived in the woods? — I leaned on my arms, looking at pigeons on the next roof.

— You mean, on vacation? — Simon was staring at people on the street, chewing on a crust of bread around the edges.

— No, just like that. You know, chop wood, light a fire, hunt. Interesting, right?

— I don’t know. The idea of open space scares me. And loneliness. Won’t you be lonely living alone in the woods? Without light or newspapers, for example?

— No. You can make candles, get cows there, I don’t know, make a vegetable garden. I can always chop wood and make a fire. And you can talk to pets.

— You’re crazy. How are you gonna make a fire without matches, dummy?

— Hmm-hmm, magnifying glass? I’ve heard it works. And if there’s no sun, then... I guess a couple of days can be done without fire.

— Oh, that’s definitely not my way of life. — Simon waved his hand, putting the bread back in the bag. — I’m too lazy to do all this. Besides, why go live in the woods when you have so much goods of civilisation?

— Big cities are stuffy. And they stink.

— Ha-ha, well, that’s true. Have you lived in nature before?

— Kind of. Our town wasn’t so concrete, I’d say. It had lots of trees and... farms. It always smelled like poop.

— Oh, my God, ugh, how can you live in a place that smells like poo?

— There was a coniferous forest nearby. I tell you, behind the pine trees you couldn't feel the smell!

— Of course, I believe you, — Simon leaned back to do a burp.

— How disgusting.

— Like you don’t do it yourself? — He snorted, turning from one side to the other — he probably overate. — Oh... by the way, you never told me why you moved to such a big city if you don’t like living here?

— I don’t like it. It was my parents who moved and why — they never spoke. — I took a hard breath, putting my hand in my hair. I should have wet my head by the fountain.

— That sucks. I’ll move out when I grow up. I don’t want to be on my parents' necks. Imagine, I can do what I want! I wish I didn’t have to work...

— Oh, yes, I agree...

I also decided to lie down after Simon. The roof was dusty, but dry and warm. The sun was not so hot anymore. On the contrary, it warmed the skin pleasantly, like maternal touches. It made me drowsy, lulled. The eyelids themselves became heavy, and I didn’t want to open them at all. Simon didn’t move, too. We both dozed off like two cats in March.

The roar of thunder woke me. I jumped to my feet and the world shook before my eyes. I sniffed: the rain did not smell at all; it was not wet. The sky was clear. But why the thunder?

— Simon. Simon. — I pulled my friend’s shoulder. My hands were cold, and I think my knees were shaking too. — Simon, get up!

Simon breathed sharply, his eyes open. He had red cheeks from the heat, and saliva was smeared all over his face. His hair was sweating and sticking. He was waving hands in misunderstanding.

— Wh-what, what... what happened?

— There’s thunder, thunder everywhere. I don’t understand. Sky. Clouds. Loud. — My tongue didn’t listen to me. My lips were numb, and I could not move. I was only able to grab my friend’s clothes.

He said nothing. Staggering, he got to his feet and came to the edge of the roof. Simon gasped in horror.

— Richter, there are the soldiers on the streets.

— What?

I shook my head. My legs didn’t want to go. What were the military doing here?

— No way, — I made my foot move. — Why did they come?

With caution I bent over the chasm between the houses. My heart missed the blow, and the air was suddenly missing. I leaned back.

— Lots of cars. They’re so loud... — Simon stared like a charm. I didn’t notice how quickly we got used to the roar of car engines.

— Step away from the edge. You will be seen.

— Richter, it's literally a crowd! They’re going into houses. — A friend turned to me. — Richter!

I woke up from a hypnotic noise and my thoughts.

— Simon. We have to go, — my voice shook treacherously. — My mom is alone.