Ear ring was leaning against the support supporting electrical wires. Just standing there was no strength. In addition to water, which was poured into passenger cars, his stomach did not know any other food for the third day in a row. Fortune turned away from him. On the once striped striped vest spilled a bucket of black paint. And without that thin white stripes disappeared under a thick layer of sewage and stench. There was no hope for a “miracle powder” or bleach that could not wash his life.

Unnoticed by himself, defrosted by the warm sunshine, the shackle dozed off.

It would seem: quite recently, in the spring, he had an apartment, a “nine”, his own company, a bunch of “friends”, “attendants” and women, at the “idiot men”, frantically clinging to the pager who was scribbling on their belts. he was only smiling, slowly bringing his cell phone to his ear, and now he was the owner of a rumpled cape in which only a very frank dreamer could see a red club jacket, a long checkered shirt, sack-like pants and ripped sneakers on his bare feet.

"Oh, Holy Virgin Mary, do not let your servant be gone!"

When, after a failed deal (crisis, louse vigil), a car and an apartment were taken from him for debt, he started drinking, he spent two weeks hanging around his acquaintances, and then, early in the morning, he woke up in some gateway, beaten, without shoes, for hours , gold chains, hairpins in a tie, wallet and documents. Tie for a hundred bucks, acquired by him in Rome, he threw himself, without regret. Sneakers found in the urn near the shoe store, when the frozen walked deserted streets early in the morning to the police station.

Listen to him did not. They just kicked my ass so that he wouldn’t come again. And the "friends" said: "Sorry, dear, have hummed and that's enough - it's time for us to work." Opohmelku give?

So Sergey found himself at the station.

The weather, surprisingly, was warm this year, from the middle of May it was possible to sleep outside without fear of catching pneumonia. Sergey couldn’t do anything except resale, but this requires money, initial capital, which he did not have. If he had stopped at one time, he sold all the gold that was hanging on it - he could buy or rent a kiosk and start all over again. But he continued to drink, and now he stood at the empty trough, no one needed. Occasionally, it was possible to work as a loader, janitor, all at the same kiosks, steal a couple of vegetables, find a discarded box of over-ripe bananas. When, once it became very tight, and the black longing gripped his insane head, Sergey decided to steal something in trifles and go to jail, they even feed and work to force him. Disgusted by it all day to dangle along the platform without work. I chose a kiosk closer to the police station, shoved in the evening, threatened the dealer, he and his friend beat him, called the cops, and they added, threw him out into the street, not at all going to take him to the police station with him.

And the cops did not need it. After that, all the insides were sick for two weeks. The second time Sergey did not take risks. In the midst of homeless people, they raved their hopes about a speedy harvest in the southern republics, waiting for the “bais”, who, having sold a batch of food, would take away live goods on the way back. Only he strongly doubted that in warm countries there is no cheap labor force. It remained to wait for autumn, frosts, pneumonia and, at best, the crematorium. At worst, they will tear the dogs apart. Circulation of substances - now he eats dogs, then they will eat him. All fair.

- Person!

“And what a good day: the sun is shining, the birds are chirping. Now go to the beach, a cool cold beer pruu, hot girls. ”

- Person! Hey you, by the pillar!

Sergey woke up from his dreams.

- Yes, yes, you. Hurry, please!

A young woman stood at the train of an imperceptibly approaching train.Twenty-five years old, in beige shoes, flesh-colored pantyhose, a short, tight-fitting dark blue dress, through which the navel outlines seemed to be pressed through (despite a perfectly flat stomach), with a deep neckline that opened the chest of a second size (and what shape! Not just a watermelon cut in half, or flesh crushed by tightly pressed tissue, and the ideal that ancient masters sang in marble). Dark hair fell down on his round, but not greasy shoulders. Nice face, without an extra layer of makeup and jewelry. Confident look, elusive, located expression of the eyes. Such and the most daring dreams will come to my senses.

- So we will stand? Take the suitcase. Or should I look for another porter?

Sergey woke up finally. The opportunity to receive cash, and not a glass of vodka or a bunch of bananas, fell out not often. Only now he noticed that next to his "employer" is a medium-sized suitcase.

- Take it. Follow me.

She didn’t even turn around to see if he was following her.

A suitcase, rather a sports bag made of rubberized from the inside fabric, which one usually takes with him when going on vacation, was not that heavy. The woman could easily cope with her herself, so that at the same time her shoulders did not warp. This Sergey, sweating profusely, did not keep up with the gracefully walking, creeping with his heels on the concrete floor, skillfully and not forcedly maneuvering between the summer residents who are hurrying to the suburban electric train. If it was not hard for him to carry the suitcase, then there was no strength to keep up with his rescuer - for three days they made themselves felt. Yes, and every summer resident, in addition to everything, always clung to "his" suitcase. When the underpass was over, he was twenty meters behind the torture rescuer ahead. In order not to lose sight of her, Sergei had to go on the run.

Immediately on his shoulder lay a heavy hand.

- Well, stay! Suitcase stole from anyone, foul?

"Cops."

- Girl! - shouted with all his might the “new Russian homeless”.

Despite the message that was heard simultaneously with his shout: “The landing on the suburban train number 6055 next to the station ends ...”, the owner of the suitcase stopped and turned half round. Noticing the police caps went back.

- What's the matter? - from her strict voice those friendly notes that were present there when she hired Sergey disappeared.

- Is it your suitcase?

- Any problems? This man is my porter.

Sergey imbued with respect for his mistress. Usually they say simply “this”, as if about a dog.

- You do not cautiously, trusting your things to the first comer.

- You can guard it. We are free? Come on.

At the station square, she brushed off the taxi drivers who leaped toward her and chose the car in the parking lot — the twenty-ninth Volga, equipped with the letter T.

"What for? Taxi drivers always fight more than private owners. ”

- Person! - the woman gently tapped with neat, medium-length nails, all painted with the same, body-colored varnish.

- Hello! Where we go?

The look with which the “mistress” gave the driver approached made him understand the absurdity of his question.

- Sit down, - she nodded to Sergey. - help to bring the suitcase to the house.

- Why does he need you, if necessary, I can bring it myself. - tried to counteract the taxi driver.

- Should I find another car?

The man shut up.

While Sergei climbed into the back seat, squeezing a suitcase in front of him, the woman managed to give her the address, so that he heard where they were going.

Here, too, the problem: is it worth it to go because of the Chirik (and one shouldn’t even dream of anything more) to the other end of the city. And then how to get back? "Motor" is clearly not lucky back. And the conductor, the bastards, in the public transport to drive in the last ...