I called the Rat and said that I was leaving.

When he was already in the corridor, the key cracked in the lock - Papic. To someone else, Ma is sitting at home as always. And, exactly, I went in; I closed the door and looked. Strange somehow. And the coat does not take off. Drunk or something, I think ...

Here Ma from the kitchen dragged along, also looking carefully. But this is a common thing, she always looks at Papika as much as she can remember. Even when he eats, she also looks like that. As if she had argued with herself whether she was choking or not choking ...

And if I do not. They stand and look at each other ... Then Papic suddenly sobbed somehow, then smiled and said:

- Good news...

“Really,” Ma says, and stiffens. Straight I see how tense.

“Yes,” says Papic. - Have taken.

- On the test? For a month? - specifies Ma.

- Not. Just a year. The contract.

“Congratulations,” Ma says and smiles. Such a good smile, gentle, all the fur coats in the house is not enough to warm up from this. Yes, and then we have no fur coats. In general, we stand, freezing.

- Oh, my dear ... - says Papik and opens his briefcase. There is a jar of caviar, a piece of tenderloin, a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka.

I call the Rat and say that I will come in an hour. I have not drunk with ancestors for a long time. And then I feel - is brewing. The rat says that it will tolerate, only, they say, do not get drunk there without me ...

Well, Ma - to the kitchen, I - to my nook, Papic changed his clothes at home - and to me. I haven’t come for a long time, I was even delighted, but I don’t give it to me.

He sat on the bed, his eyes glittering. What are you listening, asks. Dispatch mod speak. He twisted, but did not give a lecture about his Zepellins. Lay down on my bed, looking at the ceiling.

- How is the Rat? - asks.

“A rat is like a rat,” I say. - Did you really find a job? Now the grandmother will be?

This is a sore point here. Because of ma. I - on the drum, Papic too. But Ma, we just have a beast on this case. When I spent a week on buckwheat porridge, she told Papika this, that I could not fall asleep. What about him? He burst into tears, rang the bottle in the toilet, and drove to the Zhiguli to bomb. And Ma, as always, looks at him and it is not clear, whether he wants to kill, or hug. So she has a fucking character.

- They will, - says Papik. Then he suddenly adds: - Grandmas - shit.

- Yes talking. And take off the headphones. I, honestly, always happy with him heart to heart talk.

- So what to do? - he says.

“Don't do anything,” I say. - We lived seventeen years without them, and we will live a hundred more ...

Then he gets out of bed, comes up to me and puts his hand on his head. Iron, type. I have a strange Papic, so look, like - a fool a fool, and his friends - cool guys, interesting. And Ma has no friends. She lives without friends. Sometimes she looks at me like that, as if she wishes she had an abortion. Although he cares, he drives a doctor, as far as I can remember. Kind she. Once a bomzhihu dragged some into the house, let him lie down, fed him, thrust money. Who will understand her, my Ma ... I love her, of course, although she is cool with Papic, oh so cool ...

“We will not live a hundred,” Papic continues. - And forty-fifty we can reel even ... And with the attendants, maybe all twenty ...

This is he, like, joked. I show that I understand, I smile. And he strokes my head, it’s somehow strange, nice or something. All the same, Papic, in fact, I remember him so big, like coming from Afghan grass, when he hangs over me and from all sides seems to protect me. This is when I was five years old, I do not remember anything before. And later, I still remember a lot.

Cry, or something, I think ... And I swallow ... I am glad that Papic found a job. And Ma is probably glad ... Of course. She just thinks about it. Only he himself, it seems, is not painfully glad ... Oh well. I have this one, Papic. Unhappy in life ...

Ma is calling from the kitchen, said the food is already on the table. We go up and go, calling the Rat on the way and saying that I will stay another hour.

For a long time we did not sit like that. The table is breaking, well, and bottles, of course, do not spoil it. Papic pours Ma wine, and we with him - vodka. Crystal brought, well done. Meat smokes from the pan, beauty.Ma and lettuce some create managed, in general, we sit like a restaurant.

Pa says a toast to make it happen. I have one, never drinks without toast. They clink glasses with Ma and with me, then we eat, and Ma asks Papic about how the negotiations went. He was driving some kind of blizzard about the director, how they got along there, well, not immediately, of course, but some common acquaintances were found, back and forth, in general, got a job.

Ma rejoices. On her wine always acts that way, one sip - and ready. Flushed, her eyes sparkle, looks at Papika in an amicable way, so that fur coats are no longer needed. I haven't looked this way for a long time. Yes, I'm on the site of Papika five times a month to get a job, so that the Rat would look at me like that. True, she already loves me. At least, he says ... To call her something, I think ... Then I look at my ancestors and understand that it’s not that the Rat, but I myself am a hindrance.

Well, no, I think. One by one, we still roll. Only then I will leave you, dove.

Papic pours. The toast line is for Ma. She doesn’t know how to say toes, she is being quenched like a cow in a loft, she mumbles something about money, of course. They drink, and I have to reach for them to clink glasses. Forgot, children of a bitch ... As for the doctors to drive - do not forget, but how to sit on a human being - so they, like, do not need anyone, starting with me ...

And again Papic begins to sing a song about his director, and how they got along there. Ma ears hung, sitting rosy, apparently - afraid of happiness to believe. I, too, happiness, fuck ... It would be better to go nuts with me normally, in an adult way.

Papic pours on the third, my turn to say a toast ... Well, I think, now I will turn you down, doves ... And I remember everything at once. Here you have the first sore throat, and a book for the night, and a song in the morning, and a zoo, and a circus, and a planetarium, and how I got lost in Sochi among someone's feet, and the first two, and the night monster, and Rat, be she's wrong ... Now I tell them ...

- For your work ... - for some reason I say, raising a glass.

Ma smiles at me, and I understand that I guessed right. Papic slouches, sighs and drinks. In the end, the toast as a toast, itself burst out. The hairs on the head stand on end in the place where Papik stroked them, I understand that vodka began to act. I get angry, I do not understand what, I get up and leave. I have under the sofa - a bottle of the same “crystal”, well, their figs, these ancestors.

On the way, I call the Rat and tell her to come by herself. She refuses because she is afraid of Ma. Then I say that I will linger for another hour and go to my place to drink vodka.

I stick the headphones in full, pour half a glass and start to drag. I pretend that I don't care about all these layouts. They sit there in the kitchen, eat something, drink. They talk, I guess. It is clear about what.

I drink half a glass, then another half a glass, in general, the helicopter is on the way, I understand that it is time to have a snack so that later there is something to vomit ... I go to the kitchen, I hope to skip the toast with them too ... Where are there! The kitchen is empty, only my plate is full of food. The meat is still smoking like a steamer in an ashtray. I suddenly understand that I do not want to eat. The helicopter is already close to the head, will soon start shooting at ground targets ...

Returning to myself, looking into the room on the way. And so it is - my beloved continue to pussy about something, even if someone looks in the direction of the door. About what? But it is not clear ...

I’m still pouring half a glass on myself, putting Papic zepellins on it and cutting it in full on my headphones ... I’m still pouring half a glass ... I would call the Rat, but it’s a pity to stop the cassette - it’s good to go ...

It's a pity, there is no Internet, they say it is good to crawl on it drunk, there is always someone to talk to ...

Yes, what here, in the ass, the Internet ... Recently, even on buckwheat porridge ... And, I already talked about this ...

In short, I sit, drink ... Then he took an old album with photos - look through.

One frustration, of course ... Ma is so young there, beautiful Lyalka, I would have been a fool for such a person, and I myself would not be a fool ... And Papick is wow, without baldness yet. He sits with a guitar by the fire, Ma hugs him from behind, sparks in his eyes ... Or it seemed ... The jester knows how Papic says ...

Ma pursued Papika for two years. And he, a dog of hell, rested, naturally ... Only when I had already stirred, he gave way. And nothing.For five years they lived well, they say ... It would not be good if Papik immediately went to some office to earn money ... And it would probably be good, but he pereklinilo on his songs, quit his job, started the car, drinks Little by little ... What happiness is there in the ass ... I understand them now ... And Ma, of course, walks, gets confused in snot. She has already given a shit to songs for a long time, but it is understandable when buckwheat porridge ... Yes, I have already spoken about this ...

Well, Papic has his snot in bulk. He is my poet, he never went through the whole life in boys and didn’t gather ... And Ma, it seems, goes from diapers to adults ... How do they even live? ..

And there, it seems, they made love, the ancestors were beloved ... Look, my sister will be made now. Ma groans notably, not like the Rat ... She just squeaks, and Ma will make her own gramophone, so the devil will be sickening ... Wow ... I haven't been fucked for a long time ... And I might chew on something. .. Why not? Here's a good picture, they say, on the Internet such in bulk ...

Here are just half a glass, call the Rat, that I will not come today, and pee, looking on the way to their room ...

Half a cup, call, pour, pass by ...

Ma stands in the middle of the room, big, naked, busty and big ass ... Like a Scythian woman. And Papic with her — like a princely warrior from captivity — is kneeling, embracing, whispering something ... Long time no see, fucking ... It seems that even my parent is crying, she is a shit. And Ma above him, eternal, terrible, is standing silently ... This is the picture ...

And what am I ... I went to the kitchen, ate a cold piece of meat, and to myself - drink and jerk off. The case is simple. Would leave, but the Rat is not waiting. I yelled at me, idiot, for the last time ... Also, come, grow up and become like Ma. And where can I find her money? ...

He drank some more, the tsepellins were singing ... The ancestors calmed down, it seems ... Ma went to the toilet, then Papic rang his bubble there ... Then I fell asleep, I don't remember what happened next.

In the morning, Ma prepares breakfast, his eyes are again such that it is not clear - to swallow or choke right there, on the spot ...

- What, Papic on a new job galloped away? - I ask.

- Not. He ... He is gone. Totally.

... I eat, and I do not know what to say ... Both I and Ma have been waiting for this for a long time ... Finally, I say:

- What about work?

- He invented everything ... There is no work ...

- Why then?

“I don’t know,” Ma says and starts crying. And I'm with her. And on her neck - a big hickey, like a bruise from a blow ...

- He will return? - I ask, just to stop crying like a little one.

“I don’t know,” Ma says. “How can you know about our dad ...”

I finish my breakfast and go call the Rat ... That I am leaving ... © Mr. Kiss, One Hundred Splinters of One Sense, 1998–1999