Me then abused that on my person wandered then an easy smile. And I only sincerely rejoiced for the father. On its funeral in frosty January day has come to so much people, how much on mine precisely will not come. The person two hundred was, and all in tears.

To kill the father

It was the beautiful muzhik such alen-delonovskogo type. Shortly before the end it began to lose weight, and the chemotherapy has given to its skin unexpectedly healthy shade of easy northern sunburn. In a photo made for week to, it is devilishly young and good itself(himself).

When its chamber appeared empty, I left and asked at same, as it, condemned men: "And where papulja mine?". - "Yes in resuscitation!". I remember, for the first time I have very naturally seized for heart. And the father in resuscitation poisoned at this time jokes and thumped.

It was for me "papulja", I for it "synulja". Both of us considered each other as spineless weaklings. I they be silently and creaking teeth, it me - aloud and at the big gathering of people.

Thus to one another rushed to the aid on the first whistle. We felt deep mutual affinity, and that our relation to a life dispersed diametrically, fine got both it, and me.

Not front belobiletnik, he drove the car as the god, got to "ten" from any weapon and was able to fight furiously, not sparing the opponent. Still it was the professional.

Once he has told to me, that I am simply obliged to "mow" from army because goes Afgan, and on war me will waste. I have asked, why, and he has answered, that I too like with an absent kind to look in heavens. For the same reason it has rejected me as the driver. To all has learnt, and itself then did not start up for a wheel.

In Afgan me, one-eyed and so have not sent, but the father all the same has pressed for secure some pedals, for what to it thanks. Having served on self-propelled guns, I have understood, that if a bullet and not the silly woman, a shell splinter precisely idiot. But a phrase about heavens to the father has not excused. Such things do not speak to the son if do not wish to bring up the weakling.

About driving of the car I have proved all to myself, spoiling the daddy's "six" which has got to me in the inheritance. Has worn out poor and has thrown out, as unnecessary and another's thing. I in general prefer to ruin remained from the father barahlo or to throw out, not using.

It has made all that I have etched its image from the heart. I have purposefully killed the father in myself. All its hyphens has destroyed. It was still live, and I already have refused it. Till now I take away a sight when I hear, that I am similar to it.

Mum speaks: last years, muchimyj illness, the father simply lost adequacy and could not behave reasonably. But I know, what is it not essentially. All the same at the heart of its abuse and threats the hypertrophied desire to protect the child from an everyday hardship laid, to learn lives if it is required - violently.

Probably, if I considered as its friend, I would obey to it. But he did not wish to be to me the friend. He wished to be the father. And I, already adult, in the father did not require absolutely. I was devilishly lonely, and the friend was extremely necessary to me. The father of it has not understood. Then I have deleted it. I so it also name - to "kill". Not so beautifully, but it is correct as a matter of fact.

He was ready to be on friendly terms with everybody, only not with me. It was easier to it on me to bark, than to support sensible conversation. We had essentially different life experience. The daddy all road with a scratch was torn, and it pushed. As a result it has fine flown into a rage, has understood, that a life - dung, and in it it is necessary to be arranged and attached whenever possible. To sit and not to gleam. The rare hater of Bolsheviks, it with melancholy said, that I should enter party, and to make it it is necessary. In a voice I appreciated it melancholy. For the text - despised.

Two rested neurasthenics we were. Cost each other. And after all he has won eventually! Anything from me has not achieved. But has all the same changed. Took, and has reserved last word.

He as the child rejoiced to my professional successes. And I hid the whole year from it, that me vyperli from institute. Elementary was afraid to receive in a forehead. And from those who lifts on me a hand, I leave for ever. Character such. All in the father.

In a life I did not see two big cretins, than we with papulej.

When he has died, to me was twenty five. To it forty seven.

Sober, he tried not to speak with me. And having struck, started to learn lives. It is desirable at witnesses. And the more them was going to, the more sharply he expressed. To tell the truth, witnesses it was a pity to me.

One thousand times I tried to find with it common language. Softly explained and convincingly proved. Tried to listen and take good note attentively. Agreed, that it is right, but now I simply cannot live how he from me demands. Said, that I search for the road, and at me is on this right. He laughed and informed, that I the fool. The pier at such rates when at me eyes will open, will be already late, and I will appear completely in kakashkah, as well as the daddy. I minded, that it just in full chocolate, but the father only a head wound. It could nahalturit decent money, and the beggarly salary not to notice at all. But the instinct of the leader all drove the father forward, a forehead about a wall, there, where it, the non-party bezdiplomnogo and insufficiently Russian, did not start up. In chiefs. Has understood, that does not leave. Also it was not torn. And all the same silently wanted.

The normal sovok semiintellectual, the native of a deaf province. With it always was about what to argue, he in itself(himself) dragged such lots of contradictions. In something suspecting Jews, he with them strong was on friendly terms. Long making advances to a management, then sent it "on". Was proud of my family tree on a parent line. But take in head to take I a mum's surname, would bite.

When it in forty years zashiblo middle age crisis, it has got to itself(himself) the very young little fool who has appeared in actual fact a prudent infection. My beautiful and authoritative mum has capitally broken on this business. To mum absence of the diploma and nonpartisanship have not prevented to become the present leader, the excellent chief and in general clearly successful person. It is the father too at unconscious level got all life. They have begun on the sly sobachitsja when to me was fourteen. But very much on the sly and nekonstruktivno. polajut also will cease. As well as in a case with me, papulja did not understand the motives, and simply silly showed off. And the mummy, too not thinking, that is created, rigidly put papulju into place.

Then the father also has missed me. I well remember, how it pottered with me small. And since any period at me for memories basically the bad. The father began to keep away internally from mum, and resembling has perfected on me a canine that I am too similar to mum mind and manners.

He has again grown fond of me when I already drank dozen beers for time and squeezed articles in newspapers. Began to approach touchingly and tenderly. And I have weaned from it and slightly not to offend, pushed away. And it could not to me more than anything give. As a result the father in a family had definitively nothing to do and it has jerked on the left to build a new life.

Like hell at it left. Has run about-has run about and has returned to mum, wiping run tear. Has earned full freedom which became somehow ineptly and in a boorish way to use. Mum in every possible way stroked it and worried, that it such bad. And to the father has bothered to be in a shade, and it, the boy-overage, all was torn to make acts.

For that I during their quarrel have proclaimed a rigid neutrality, it has called me the traitor and the informer. Then I also have finished it in myself definitively. Has set a distance, and did not admit more close. And it all was torn closely that from the best promptings is more sick uest.

The father was typical in all problems. A classical product of time though a picture from it write - "Zatrahan Soviet Union".

It left live earthquake in Bucharest. Would sit in hotel - greetings. But it everywhere had friends. The colleagues who have run together on the object have seen the father going through blockages. In one hand it bore the started bottle of cognac, in another - a plate with the bitten fried chicken.

On Cuba he drank with Raul Castro. From Poland has brought to me magnificent it is great. In Mongolia suffered a liver. It had heart disease and, sorry, chronic hemorrhoids. It could break a foot, rolling down with Tcheget on an inflatable mattress. Here the muzhik was really strong! Everywhere was in time. And all seemed to it, that it something nedobral. One of the best in the country of artists-restorers, it still was going to on equal footing with kaimi strange people to open behind any horse-radish of a casino. We with mum knew, that to the father the end, and tried not to contradict. I have returned to the parental house to be near at hand when time will come. The daddy was delighted to the son and sometimes by inertia put me on ears. And I postponed green stolniki to it for a good coffin.

Having died, it has put me the heaviest insult. Live it could not so me to get.

Our long-term rasprja has led to that I have grown. I have not changed to the way, ideals of the father, but I already another are still absolutely not close to me. And shortly before his death I, apparently, have found those necessary words which could reach depths of his soul.

And it has outstripped me.

Nobody understands, paternal I go the fourth year its tomb. Clever mum, with a head left in job and reached in it of unprecedented heights, does not set to me foolish questions. She, probably, feels, that now I do not have answer. Also waits, that when I will find it, itself in all I will understand.

But the answer any more will not be.

One of these days at me the wife for a short while has laid down in hospital, and I at home climbed on a wall and kerosinil. ukvasivshis to a serious enlightenment, I am unexpected for myself have lifted up eyes to a bulb and have begun to speak with spirit of the father. I have told to it everything, that should tell. Everything, that was not in time.

Last words were: "You know, a pas as I like you. And I know, how you like me. Excuse, that I was late".

He has not answered me.