Foreword

After reading a lot of erotic stories, he noted the artistic merit of many works. But, unfortunately, did not find a single, similar to the truth. And therefore I decided to tell my story - one hundred percent profit. I want to warn you right away - here we are not talking about sex between mother and son. About something like that, I could not even dream, not something to implement. Another explanation before starting. In our time, an adult was considered a person from the moment of receiving a passport. At the age of sixteen you were legally sold cigarettes, vodka, allowed into a restaurant, into a movie for adults, and in general you have already been responsible for all your actions in terms of the Criminal Code. There was this strange gradation: it is possible from the age of 16, then from the age of 18, and this is after reaching the age of 21. Lovers just "strawberries" can not bother reading. This is just a true story. And the next event prompted me to write this story.

I sit on a bench in a public garden, I read the latest news from my long-suffering Motherland, I am so immersed in the news that I don’t notice how a woman sits next to me - not from workers and peasants - everything is well-groomed, well-dressed, one gold on it for a thousand dollars. And involuntarily I become a witness of her conversation on the mobile. Most likely she is talking to her friend.

- Can you imagine? Well, what is he still missing? Own room in the house. Caused by the most expensive equipment. This rave fucking rattles all day at full volume. Comp, Internet, clothes - what you wish, pocket money - almost weaving for a week. What else does the brat lack? She does not want to study. So the father has already promised the car - if the school finishes well and goes to the university itself. So I know - I will not do it! Still here he'll have to bash. Oh, Light - I won’t mind what to do with it? How to learn to force?

A friend advised to see something, as I understood from the lively jokes and the phrases “what are you saying?”, But unfortunately I could not hear this most interesting dialogue. I smiled, and I thought - I could also give advice, because something similar in my life already happened. Without even noticing it, he quietly plunged into those distant memories.

... the distant 1980.

Part one

I live now far away from the place where I was born. And I was born in a small town on the border of our vast Motherland - the USSR. Almost on the border with one of the countries of the Commonwealth. More precisely, even in a few countries of the former Warsaw Pact. We in those distant 70s could receive the television signal of three foreign countries at once. For this purpose, it was only necessary to design the antennas correctly (the polarization is different from our antennas in the first place). And I assure you that there was something to see.

All 1980 is associated with the Olympics-80, the Olympic Bear - a symbol of the Olympiad and of course the song "Goodbye, my sweet Misha", which soon became the symbol of the Gorbachev era. But for me and for all the inhabitants of our town, the associations this year were completely different. Who has already forgotten, and maybe does not know at all - I will remind. In December 1979, at the invitation of the Kabul Government, in fulfillment of its international duty, the Soviet troops entered Afghanistan. Somehow, the people didn’t really understand what was happening or didn’t want to understand, blinded by Soviet propaganda. But the mothers who began to receive the notorious “cargo-200” saw everything in a completely different light.

Two guys from a neighboring yard, we didn’t know them well, because they were older than us by 2-3 years. They knew that it was simple - there were such guys, often sitting in our yard playing the guitars. They did not have time to make war. At the very first outing, their armored personnel carrier hit a mine. No one survived. Buried in closed tombs. It was the first "cargo 200" in our city.The whole city gathered for the funeral. We were even released from the lessons. There were many flowers, fireworks in honor of the fallen, oaths of revenge, and of course the crying of mothers. Yes, actually all were crying, even the men and they wiped a mean tear. Something has changed since then. Now any mention of the heroism of our guys TAM, sounded in the program “Time” in my mother caused a sob, tears appeared in her eyes and everything ended with the same thing. “Learn well, go to college (with a military department required). You don't need this army. ” Seryozha's mother (Seryoga - my best friend) also took it very close to her heart. Worried in earnest. If everything seemed clear to me, I would finish the eighth grade, and move on to the ninth grade without any problems.

Of course, I did not even think about the institute. But with my best friend Seryozhka everything was not so simple. If my “troika” in the diary appeared with such frequency as the “five” and I had chances to go to college, because I pulled the average “foursome” ball freely. So Seregi had problems with it. He had a "two" slipped with the same frequency as the "four". What he could count on - so it is on a "C grade" with a stretch. Although the boy was not stupid. If it was necessary to move someone to the Olympiad in physics or mathematics, where the tasks are not from a textbook, where non-standard thinking was necessary - for some reason they sent us both. I was a storehouse of formulas, and Serega provided a non-trivial approach. The tandem of us was good. But nevertheless, in the quarter for the same physics and mathematics, he had "troika" flaunted. He actually after the eighth was going to college. Fortunately, he was taken to anyone without exams due to his sporting success. Serega had the first youthful freestyle wrestling. Yes, and I tried to keep up, Power types were not for me (I am sick of this), but I liked fencing very much. And we met in kindergarten. There have been, and still are, what is called “do not spill water.” All shared equally. Nadeboshirili - they got it together, because everyone knew - if Seryozhka got caught, then it would have been possible without Eugene (this is my name by the way). Even birthday gifts were received together, because on one day we have a birthday - at the end of September.

Actually, our friendship made our moms friends. And why not to be friends - after all, they lived in the same yard, in the same house, on the same floor, though in different entrances. Conveniently, because Aunt Sveta (Serezhkina's mother) took us out of the garden, then my mother (by the way, Ira is called). And it was not necessary to look for us anywhere in the courtyard - we are now with me, then at Earrings. Here we are not lucky with the fathers. He didn’t remember his earring — my mother said that he was a test pilot — he died during the performance. Shackle firmly believed, and if anyone doubted - immediately in the face. With this he easily had a healthy forehead. In short, we had no offenders in the courtyard and surroundings. But the skill was a full-fledged family - ... until fourth grade. My father was a sultry, handsome southern man - a driver of a big beautiful car with an intriguing inscription aboard the SovTransAvto. He was one of those who, like the sailors, had a wife in each port. Well, God be his judge. The parents went away peacefully, even remained friends, even a three-room apartment, although on the first floor, my father left us with my mother. From almost every flight my father came to visit us for a day or two and brought presents to everyone. So in the distant 70s, Seryozhka and I were the happy owners of objects of universal envy - CANDLES, and of course - JEANS. Over time, we have appeared and T-shirts with the names of foreign rock bands. The father of everything brought in a pair - I was sharing fraternally. After all, we really were “blood brothers”.

Watching films about Indians, especially with Goiko Mitic in the lead role - we, as a sign of our friendship for all times - cut our thumbs with a knife stacked in the kitchen, put them together and exchanged blood. Then the whole day went proud of themselves with a plantain leaf, around a finger to stop the blood. From the age of 14, we with Seryozhka hooked on the western music.I went by hard - Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Earring is simpler - Slade, Sweet, Smokie, etc., etc. My father even pritaran a couple of brand layers to us - young music fans. Here's the truth bad luck - there was nowhere to listen to them, but the “spinner” was not very desirable. And here - the MAGNETOPHONE is ...