SHOULDER AND TWO BRIEFCASES: Tales

Dear Guys!

Many of you have read books about wonderful dogs - the strong and brave White Fang, the clever Kashtanka and Mukhtar devoted to people. The little puppy Kysh, which I am writing about, is still an unremarkable dog. But for her owner Alyosha Seroglazov, she is the smartest, most devoted dog in the world. Alyosha, the first grader, for whom the new life schoolboy, and curious Kysh is hard not to get into trouble. To the great joy of the author, they end happily, because at the most difficult moment Alyosha did not betray Kysh, and Kysh believed that a true friend Alyosha will help him out of trouble.

I really want you to love a person's friends, be it a gray sparrow, a small fish or a huge elephant. Who knows, it may happen that some of you, when you become adults, will have to set foot on new planet and meet unknown animals there. Let them know that the person came to them as a friend, with kindness and love.

SW ALESHKOVSKY

TWO PORTFOLIO

AND A WHOLE WEEK

CHAPTER 1

It was my first day off, because for the first time in my life I spent a whole week in first grade.

I didn’t know how to start such a day, and therefore I decided to imitate my dad: when I woke up, I put my hands under my head and stared out the window.

One day, dad said that on Sunday morning, since there was no need to rush to work, he thought about all sorts of things and how the whole week went. What was more in it - good or bad? And if there are more bad things, then who is to blame for this: the pope himself or, as he likes to say, a combination of circumstances?

There were more bad things in my first week of school. And not because of me, but because of the circumstances that began to flock a long time ago.

If I had been born at least two days later, then I would have turned seven years old not on the thirty-first of August, but on the second of September, and I would not have been accepted to school. But dad already had to persuade the head teacher. And the head teacher agreed to accept me on probation.

I was the youngest and smallest student in the whole school.

IN " Children's world» They bought me the smallest uniform, but during the fitting in the cockpit it turned out that it was also large. Mom asked to take off the uniform from the false first-grader, who was standing in the window and smiling, but mom was persuaded to refuse this request and advised to change the uniform. They also gave her advice on how to feed me so that I would grow faster.

Mom shortened her trousers herself, and kept the cap in the hot water, then they pulled it over the pan and ironed it, but it still fell over my eyes.

In general, on the first of September, I went to school, and at the very first break, the tallest boy in our class, Misha Lvov, measured me from head to toe with my own briefcase. He measured and immediately gave me the nickname of Two Briefcase. And he gave himself the nickname of the Tiger. Because of the surname Lvov. Even the high school students got my nickname. At recess, they stared at me and wondered:

Two briefcases!

Indeed, two briefcases!

They didn't tease me, but all the same I felt the biggest hurt of all that I received in the manger, in kindergarten, in the yard and at home.

I went off to the side, didn't play with anyone, and I was so bored that I wanted to cry.

True, once a high school student came up to me, stroked my head and said:

Two briefcases, keep your nose up. The time will come, and you will become four briefcases, then five, and then eight. Look here! And do not stand in one place during the break. Break up the bones. And don't be afraid of anyone. They start to scare - inflate your nostrils. They will leave immediately. I've always done that. I am Olya.

And I'm Alyosha, - I said, and Olya showed me how to inflate my nostrils.

But no matter how much I later inflated them, it did not frighten anyone, and my ears roared from the cry:

Two briefcases! Two briefcases!

For such a nickname, I hated the Tiger.

It was good for Dadaev. They called him Dada! Kapustina - head of cabbage. Galya Pelenkin, as a Brazilian football player, - Pele. Gusev's name is Tega-tega, and he is very happy. Lenya Katz - Katso. One I - Two briefcases.

Nothing! Maybe in time they will all get tired of such a long nickname, and only Felya will remain of him. Felya! It's not bad…

So I lay and thought and suddenly stared ... In front of my window, in one place, just like a helicopter, a sparrow hung and suddenly - bang! He hit the glass, fell on the ledge, then jumped up again, fluttered and tried to peck at something.

This quiz is dedicated to the wonderful story "Shoot, Two Portfolios and a Whole Week" by the writer Yuz Aleshkovsky. The story tells about the adventures of a first-grader Alyosha and his puppy Kysh, as well as about their friends and foes, acquaintances and strangers. Surely many have already read it, but for those who have not read it, it's time to fill this gap! I think that this book, full of good humor, will appeal to both the young sailors of our children's frigate website and adult readers.

But first, a little about the author. Writer Yuz Aleshkovsky (real name - Iosif Efimovich Aleshkovsky) was born on September 21, 1929 in the Siberian city of Krasnoyarsk. Soon after his birth, the Aleshkovsky family moved to Moscow, from where later during the Great Patriotic War evacuated to Omsk. Due to the liveliness of his character, school studies did not work out for the future writer: he was transferred several times from one school to another, left for the second year, and even expelled from school. In 1947, Aleshkovsky was drafted into the army and served in the Pacific Navy. Returning to Moscow in 1955, he worked as a builder and driver in the virgin lands. Since 1965 began to earn a living literary work. In 1979, Yuz Aleshkovsky left first for Austria, and then for the United States, where he lives to this day.

The writer dedicated the story "Shoo, Two Briefcases and a Whole Week" to his little son Alyosha. It was published by Children's Literature in 1970. A little later, in 1974, at the Mosfilm studio, based on this story, Feature Film for children "Shoo and Two Portfolios". And in 1975, the continuation of the adventures of Alyosha Seroglazov and his four-legged friend saw the light - the story "Shoo and I in the Crimea." This book is not included in our quiz, but I can assure you that it is as wonderful as "Shoo, Two Briefcases and a Whole Week." No wonder they both take pride of place on my bookshelf. I loved reading them as a child, and I still do. In my opinion, these are not just interesting and exciting stories about adventures at school or on vacation by the sea, about classmates, detectives and dogs, but very human stories about people. About a respectful and caring attitude to the whole world around us - people, animals and nature, about culture and literature, about true friendship, dignity, courage and honor. And I think it would be appropriate here to cite the preface to the book, written by the author himself, Yuz Aleshkovsky. Here it is:
"Dear Guys!
Many of you have read books about wonderful dogs - the strong and brave White Fang, the clever Kashtanka and Mukhtar devoted to people. The little puppy Kysh, which I am writing about, is still an unremarkable dog. But for her owner Alyosha Seroglazov, she is the smartest, most devoted dog in the world. It is difficult for the first-grader Alyosha, for whom a completely new life of a schoolboy has begun, and the curious Kysh not to get into various troubles. To the great joy of the author, they end happily, because at the most difficult moment Alyosha did not betray Kysh, and Kysh believed that a true friend Alyosha would help him out of trouble.
I really want you to love a person's friends, be it a gray sparrow, a small fish or a huge elephant. Who knows, it may happen that some of you, when you become adults, will have to set foot on a new planet for the first time and meet unknown animals there. Let them know that the man came to them as a friend, with kindness and love.”

Kysh's heart beat often, often. Then I unbuttoned my shirt and put my hand on my chest. My heart was beating even faster than Kysh's.
- Cowards we are with you! - I said, and I got tired of walking. Besides, I had to take lessons. Write dashes, hooks and other lines from letters and numbers in a notebook.

18

Before I sat down for lessons, I took the key and went to check the mailbox. It seemed to me that something was turning white through the hole in it.
Papa picked up the newspapers in the morning, and it was probably a letter or the ninth issue of The Young Naturalist. I loved this magazine very much and it always arrived on time. It had a lot interesting pictures and pictures of various animals.
I again tied Kysh to the radiator so as not to cause trouble, and went down to the second floor.
On the site, in front of the general entrance mailbox, our neighbors were making noise for some reason, surrounding the postman. I opened the door with the key. Our box was empty. The neighbors looked at me suspiciously.
- Tell me, have “Funny Pictures” and “Young Naturalist” already carried out the ninth issue? I asked the postman.
- Well, that's "Naturalist" stolen! If you have a thief wound up, I have nothing to do with it. I have been working for ten years and have no complaints,” said the postwoman.
In fact, newspapers and magazines sometimes disappeared from our boxes, but this was rare. And today and this week, it turns out, Sizov's "Spark", Krotkina's "Health", Babajanyan's "Floriculture" and "Beekeeping" disappeared.
In addition, newspapers with circulation tables of the clothing lottery regularly disappeared.
- Horror! It’s hard for me to believe that a person from our entrance is capable of this! Krotkina said.
- What are you looking at me for? I couldn't help it, I was outraged. - They steal from you!
- And I have nothing to do with it! Understand yourself, - said the postwoman and left.
“We need to establish surveillance of the boxes,” suggested Babadzhanyan.
- After all, the scoundrels have the key to the common lock. They steal in bulk, at least don’t subscribe, ”the pensioner Sizov grieved.
I am going home. I was sad too. You wait, you wait a whole month for a new issue, and it is stolen from you from under your nose.
- Kush! I said when I returned. - Let's catch this bad person with you! I can't do it myself. I have no scent, but you can take a trail. Will we catch?
“Rr-s! My famous great-great-great-grandfather didn’t catch such people!” - Kysh was delighted and sneezed twice, as if clearing his nose for a better sniffing of the trail.
I was no longer in class. I imagined Kysh tracking down newspaper and magazine thieves. How we chase after them, and they shoot back and wound Kysh. But they are arrested, and Kysh is taken to the operation in an ambulance helicopter. And here I give my blood to Kysh for a transfusion, because he leaked a lot when he was wounded ...
Kysh walked beside me and felt what I was thinking: he growled and yelped knowingly.
“Now we need to figure out how to track it down,” I told him.
“Here, think about it. For this, you have a head, and I’ll sniff it, ”Kysh answered.

19

At first, I nevertheless tidied up the apartment, wiped out new puddles and even smoothed out my father's tie chewed by Kysh with an iron. At the same time, there was a slight smell of fried food, and the white stars disappeared from the tie in one place.
Then I set a clock in front of me to see how long it would take me to figure out how to track down the magazine thief, and I sat down and started thinking.
And exactly in twelve minutes he came up with a cunning trap.
I took the old magazine “Knowledge is Power”, which looked like new, took out a bone from under Kyshev’s mattress, sniffed it myself and rubbed the cover of the magazine with it. Then he went out and quietly, when no one was on the site, put a magazine smelling of bones in our mailbox.
Now I had to patiently wait for the magazine to be stolen, and notice it in time. If the thief lives in our entrance, then it cannot be that Kysh did not find him by the smell of his best, beloved bone. True, the smell would be stronger from fish oil, but suddenly Kysh does not like fish oil like I do.
“There would be a trap, and the thief would fall into it,” I said to Kysh, returning.

20

When dad and mom came home from work, I told them everything about the trap and asked them not to take the magazine out of the drawer.
It hit me for not having time to do my homework. And for everything that Kysh did, I was suddenly not scolded. Mom only strictly reminded about the trial period and was not surprised when I, pulling the rope, said to Kysh:
- Light!
He jumped up and the chandelier lit up.
Dad was not happy about this. He was angry and unshaven, and squinted at Kysh with hostility.
Suddenly, my mother noticed a sheaf of red sunbeams hitting the window. Kysh sat at the end of this sheaf right in the center of a big bunny and wagged his tail. Dad looked and did not understand anything. I didn't understand either.
- Shy wags his tail and raises all the dust in the apartment. She stands as a pillar. You can see everything in the rays,” Mom explained.
Here, my dad and I, of course, noticed how billions of dust particles, lifted into the air by Kyshev's wagging tail, rush in the sunbeam.
“New business,” Mom said gloomily. “Now everything will be dusty.” And I will go after Kysh with a rag and wipe everything. Thank you!
- To the place! I called to Kysh, stamping my foot.
He, tail between his legs, trudged out of the room, not understanding why I shouted at him.
And dad wanted to recoup for the fact that they did not give him a bone, and for the fact that he was unshaven. He told his mother:
- One of two things: either we will fight dust every day together, or we will amputate our dog's tail. Let's reduce, so to speak, to nothing the wagging moment, and everything will be in order. And in general: if a puppy brings so many inconveniences to our lives, then perhaps he should find new owners? “Dad was starting to fall apart. – Do you want to stay for the second year in the first class? Why didn't you do your homework? Do you think teaching a puppy is more important than teaching yourself? He already turns on the light himself, and you can’t learn to read in syllables!
Why did they send me to school? I'm the smallest in it! They tease me with Two briefcases! It was necessary to write in the metrics that I was born on the second of September, and not on the thirty-first of August. I would go to the garden for another year and learn to read,” I said and immediately regretted it.
“So, if you could talk back then, would you advise me to fake your metrics?” Are you sorry that you did not deceive the state at the beginning of your life? Dad asked softly.
I shook my head because I didn't remember ever having such a desire.
Mom listened in silence. She and dad - I understood even earlier - had an agreement: when he scolds me, she is silent, and when she is, dad is silent.
“Mitya, if you have finished, then I will say something,” my mother finally intervened.
- No! – stubborn dad. The conversation is far from over! A whole school week has passed, and in your notebooks there are blots and some worms instead of straight lines! Maybe your hand is trembling?
“She doesn’t seem to be moving,” I said.
– Did your hand move when disassembling my movie camera?
“Moving,” I said.
“In short, everything is clear to me,” said dad, and after that he unexpectedly demanded that during the next day Kysh be trained not to pour puddles on the floor.
- Mitya! Let's go get some fresh air," Mom suddenly suggested.
This meant that she did not want me to be present during her serious conversation with dad.
“It’s cold out there,” Dad said shivering.
- Put on your coat.
- But it's on the floor.
- And you get it. It's time, - said my mother, and my father, on top of everything else, had to get his coat, and I again had to hold the stepladder.
Then they went to breathe fresh air.
Kish lay dejectedly on the mattress. He seemed to feel guilty.
“Tomorrow I’ll tie him up when I go to school until he gets used to not making a mess everywhere,” I thought and looked out the window.
Mom and dad walked slowly around the park. Dad was arguing something, waving his arms.
I sat down for lessons and started a new notebook. And Kysh stood behind the chair that stood in front of my table and watched how I drew dashes and zeros with a pen and dipped the pen in ink. From interest, he stuck out his tongue, but did not interfere with me. On the contrary, I got several very even sticks with good pressure and very few blots. Then I learned to read by syllables.
Then mom and dad came back. Papa said:
- If I had known, I would never have eaten a pound of salt with this man! Traitor of friendship!
“Still, I think you’re wrong,” Mom said. Until you admit it, you will be angry.
- Never! Oh-oh! Never! Dad exclaimed and checked my notebooks.
Before going to bed, I asked which of his friends turned out to be a traitor to friendship.
“Uncle Sergei Sergeev,” said dad.
- So, it turns out that a pound of salt wasted in vain?
– Do you have any other questions? Dad asked dryly.
We had an agreement: in order not to bother dad with different questions every ten minutes, I had to save them all day and ask them all at once in the evening.
- What is a pygmy? I asked.
“I’ll answer that question tomorrow,” Papa said. Is everything else clear?
- And why is Uncle Sergey Sergeyev a traitor? What did he do?
- When you become an adult, you will understand! Dad said. – And in vain you are offended by the nickname Twobriefcase. A wonderful and very rare nickname. These are only found among the Indians. Remember, I read about one Indian? His name was "He Dyes His Hair Red". So don't be offended.
What was your first name in first grade?
- Bulka. They called me Bulka because I liked to eat at the lessons. Then weaned. Well, go to sleep, - said dad ...

21

In the morning before school, I did exactly as I planned: I tied Kysh. He put a bowl of milk next to him, a saucer of water and cut off a piece of sausage.
"Don't you dare gnaw through the rope," I told him. “I, too, have to sit at a desk for forty-five minutes like a tied man. And the changes are small. At the lesson, if you turn around the wrong way, they immediately make a remark to you. And you won't leave the class until the bell rings. Understood?
“Rr-s! I did not understand anything. Go, or you'll be late again!" - said Kysh, and I went to school, but this time I was not late.
The excavator engine was started without me. He was puffing, shooting blue rings into the sky, and the driver was fitting a huge piece of iron, like a bomb, to the boom instead of a ladle ...
In class, Snowball immediately attacked me:
- Why did you run away from everyone yesterday and left me?
“Kysh was hungry and smoked very badly,” I told her.
- Don't do that again. We must say goodbye.
When the lesson started, Snowball told me:
- Let's bet that I'll swallow and eat a saber in class!
- What shall we bet? I asked, without even having time to think about where Snowy got the saber from.
The fact that some people swallow them, I knew from dad's stories about the circus.
“Let’s argue for any desire,” said Snowball. - "American" is called such a dispute.
Veta Pavlovna just at that moment was looking in the other direction. We shook hands, and Olya Danova, nicknamed Oga, parted our hands.
Snow pulled out an object wrapped in thick paper from her briefcase and placed it on her knees.
“Maybe you shouldn’t swallow in class?” Let's wait for a change, - I whispered.
“I didn’t have time to have breakfast,” said Snowball, and took out a piece of bread. - Saber tastes better with bread. Well look!
I opened my mouth in excitement, and Snow pulled out something rusty-blue-silver from the paper, only without a pen. She took a bite, chewed and swallowed. Then she bit off another piece and said with her mouth full:
“It's a saber, but only fried fish. Didn't guess? You lose!
I laughed to the whole class, and Veta Pavlovna immediately approached our desk:
- Seroglazov! Why are you laughing? Get up!
“I felt funny,” I told the truth, because I promised my dad never to lie to teachers.
- Why is it funny? Are you silent? Sit down. Snezhana Sokolova, get up. What are you doing here?
Snowball quickly managed to swallow everything and said:
“May I explain to you in your ear?”
- No you can not. It’s not good to whisper in front of everyone and it’s ugly.
Then Snezhka fearlessly told how she had bet me that she would eat a saber with bread at the lesson, because she had not had time to have breakfast at home, and showed the whole class a half-eaten piece of this overseas fish.
“And there’s also fish in the shop—fried captain,” Snezhka added, and all the guys and Veta Pavlovna laughed for a long time.
But suddenly Veta Pavlovna frowned, sat down at the table, pondered, and asked:
- Who will answer me: what is discipline?
“This is when you have to do what you are forced to do,” Snowball rattled, raising her hand.
“So that’s what: forced is not the right word,” said Veta Pavlovna. “I really don’t want to force you to study, to force you to listen carefully to me, and not eat a fried saber. To force clean writing, good counting and reading. You must yourself - you understand! - study well and behave well. Why do you need to study well? Who will tell us? Please, Misha Lvov!
“You need to study well in order to know everything,” said Tigger.
"Why do you want to know everything?"
“Interesting,” Tigger said.
What is good discipline for? (Many guys raised their hands.) Olya Danova will answer us.
“Bad discipline interferes with learning,” said Oga quietly, who parted our hands in an argument.
- Snezhana Sokolova! Now you understand what discipline is?
“I guessed,” said Snowball. - It's when you force yourself to do something good.
- Well done! By the way, you could ask permission, and I would let you quietly eat a fried saber. And we wouldn't have lost so much time because of her. Seroglazov, is it clear to you why you can’t laugh at the lesson for no reason?
“In order not to interfere with others' learning, even if it's funny,” I replied.
- Well done! Sit down.
Veta Pavlovna continued the lesson.
“Now, if she told dad and mom that I was doing well, it would be really good,” I thought.

22

At a break, Tigger came up to me and asked:
- Two briefcases! Well, how is your puppy?
He probably forgot when he said Two briefcases, and looked frightened at the angry Snowball. But I answered Tigre without offense:
- The puppy is good. Funny. He just lacks discipline. Doesn't do everything you ask.
- Eh! - For some reason, Tigger said and ran into the corridor.
I explained to Snezka that my nickname is rare. It is like that of the Indians, and I will respond to it.
- As you wish, Alexei. Have you forgotten about the dispute?
I agreed that I lost, although the saber was fried, and asked what Snezhka's wish should be fulfilled.
I'll tell you at the last lesson. We have to think of something else,” said Snowball.
At a big break, I again, like yesterday, quickly ran home.
Kysh did not rush towards me and did not wag his tail. He did not touch milk, water and a piece of sausage. He was lying with his muzzle buried in his front paws, as in the Bird Market when he was sold. I squatted down and, pushing back my bangs, looked into Kysh's eyes. They were dark brown and damp, like cherries after rain. Kish was very offended by me. I stroked it and said:
- Kush! First, I force you and teach you discipline, and then you get used to it and you will force yourself. And we, the people, do the same. Here on the first of September at the lesson I took it and left the class. Without asking. And they caught me, put me in my place and ordered me to sit until the bell rings. In general, tied, as I am you. And now I understand everything and I don’t leave the class until the break. You will thank me again. And don't be offended. I'm not offended by Veta Pavlovna. She is good and kind. And I am also good and kind. But after all, if I untie you, will you definitely chew or break something?
"Rr-ah!" Kish agreed.
- That's it. Be healthy. I'll be back soon, - I said, wiped the puddle near the battery and ran to school.
At the entrance, I managed to look into the mailbox. The trap magazine was not stolen...

23

At the last lesson, I suddenly thought: why do cats, which are dumber than dogs, understand that you need to “walk” in a box of sand, but puppies do not understand this and are taken outside? And if the owner, for example, went to school for the whole day, and no one was at home? That's bad. You need to come up with an invention!
... Veta Pavlovna was explaining something, and I was drawing boxes for puppies in a notebook for penmanship. And suddenly I thought of an invention. But, forgetting myself, for joy and also from the fact that I thought about Kysh for a long time, I barked:
- Ah!
I, too, like Snowball, forgot about discipline for a second, and this is what happened.
Here such laughter arose in the class that the head teacher, who was passing along the corridor, looked into the class.
I was ready to fall through the ground from grief and fear.
But Veta Pavlovna did not scold me in front of the head teacher. She quietly explained something to him. The head teacher looked at me, for some reason sighed and left the class.
- Seroglazov! Does your dad only work during the day? asked Veta Pavlovna.
“Yes,” I replied, and even more I wanted to fall through the ground.
“It will hit you,” Snowball whispered. But I will come and intercede for you. I know why you barked. You were thinking about a puppy. And I also meowed in kindergarten when I missed the cat Tsapka. Who is scarier for you - the head teacher or the director?
“Head teacher,” I answered, and made a sign to Snezhka to shut up.
I didn't have time to talk. I tied Kysh for discipline, but I myself do not listen to explanations, I invent a toilet for puppies and, most importantly, I bark right in the lesson. Wow puppy teacher! Veta Pavlovna will come in the evening, tell her father and mother about everything, and then - goodbye Kysh! .. But no! I won't let that happen!
Evil took me, and I forced myself to listen carefully to the lesson.
Veta Pavlovna called me to repeat three times, and I repeated without error. The third time she said that I could be disciplined and smart. You just need to want to, and I will always be good.
“That’s what I love most of all, when they first scold and then praise,” Snowball again whispered, unable to restrain herself, and received a reprimand.
- Snezhana Sokolova! Veta Pavlovna said. - I'll move you to another desk. But you promised to have a good influence on Cepoglazov!
- I accidentally forget about discipline the last time. Soon I won’t get a single comment,” Snowball promised.
“We'll see,” said Veta Pavlovna, lined us up in pairs and warned us not to run away without permission, like Alyosha Seroglazov did yesterday.
But I wouldn't run away either. I tried not to forget about discipline.
High school girls were again crowding in the corridor near the wall newspaper, and Rudik Baryshkin was telling them something. And no one knew that yesterday he set a big angry dog on baby Kysh ...
On the street, Snow finally told me her wish. She wanted me to bring a puppy to school tomorrow.
“Straight to class?” I was horrified.
But Snezhka agreed that they could bring Kysh at recess, and then take it back.
“You'd better come to me and look at him as much as you want,” I said. Both me and Kysh are on probation. If he gets caught at school, you know what happens?
“Tell me: I’m scared,” Snowball chuckled. - I told you my desire, but you chickened out.
“Not afraid, but discipline,” I said. - When the trial period is over, I'll bring Kysh. Honestly.
“All right,” Snow relented. “Do you know what my desire was at first? Take your last name. I like her very much.
- Common surname. Take it if you want, I said.
- I would take it. And they would say to me: “Sokolova-Seroglazova! Go to the blackboard." After all, in our class there is a girl with a double surname - Ivanova-Zelenko. It's just not possible. I already found out from my grandmother,” Snowball regretted.
In the end, she asked for the number of my apartment, promised to come in sometime, and we said goodbye ...

24

As soon as I untied Kysh, he immediately forgot about the insult, jumped around me, trying to lick my hand and squealing joyfully.
I poured soup for myself and him. He looked at the bowl, sniffed it, wiggled his ears and asked:
“Rr-ah! Where is the bone?
- Today there is no bone. Let's work out, let's go to the store and buy a soup set for ninety kopecks. There are a lot of bones. Enough for you and dad. Eat.
Kysh pulled out a bone from under the mattress, put it in a bowl, and only then began to lap up the soup.
"Well well! I was surprised. “Straight at my dad!”
At the entrance, when we went for a walk and to the store, Rudik Baryshkin and Gera overtook us. Kysh and I stood in a corner, giving way to them, but Rudik, passing by us, pulled Hera by the leash. She froze, opening her mouth, did not growl, did not bark, only the hair on her neck stood on end and her eyes became bloodshot.
And little Kysh thought that if Hera did not growl, then she finally wanted to play with him, and timidly wagged his tail.
I held the leash tightly in my hand. I had no fear this time, no resentment. I felt somehow cold and empty, and again I could not understand why the adult Rudik and the huge Hera were mocking us. And I had no fear.
Rudik and Gera were probably glad enough, looking at Kysh and me, driven into a corner.
We followed them outside.
It turns out that the same high school girl Olya was waiting for them at the entrance, who, when I was offended and sad on the first of September, stroked my head and told me not to hang my nose.
Olya smiled when she noticed us, and, like that time, I immediately felt lighter and more cheerful. Rudik said something to her, pointing his finger in our direction…
Kysh and I went to the store to buy a soup set, which contained a lot of good bones. Kysh gradually got used to walking next to me and not to get confused in the legs.
Having bought everything that my mother ordered, we returned home.
At the entrance, I looked into the mailbox and, out of excitement, as in a lesson, having mixed everything up, I said to Kysh:
- Rr-s!
And Kysh asked again:
"Rr-ah?"
I quickly ran for the key, opened the drawer, picked Kysh up and told him to smell it. And in my opinion, Kysh smelled the smell of his favorite bone.
He jumped to the floor and pulled me up the stairs. We flew straight to the fourth floor.
I gasped with excitement. Kysh's nostrils fluttered as he sniffed for the last time, double-checked himself, and with a bark rushed to the black-leather-lined door of apartment forty-one. And I pressed the call button.
I realized that Kysh led me to the door of Rudik's apartment only when, after Guerin's roar, we flew down the stairs even faster than we had taken off.
Probably, while we were in the store, Rudik managed to skip Gera, left her at home, and he and Olya again left somewhere.
Kish was shaking with indignation. I tried to think about what had led him to Rudik: was it really the smell of a bone, or just a dog track? And is Rudik himself - a swimming champion - a thief of newspapers and magazines?
“Shoo, did it smell like bone or did it seem to you?” I asked.
“Rr-ah! Rr-a! And once again rr-ah! - said Kish.
Then I took out a bone from the board (I quietly hid it there earlier) and gave it to the overjoyed Kysh. I did this so that he would not think that Hera was stealing his bones. Why slander a dog in vain, even if it is evil and attacks the weak?
I decided to tell my dad about this story right away, and before he came, I did my homework. The shoo didn't bother me. On the contrary, he helped. It was again interesting for him to watch how sticks and various squiggles from letters appeared on paper.
That day, my mother called twice, asking how things were going, and said that after work she would go shopping. She was satisfied that we were all right.

25

Finally, after homework, I could work on my invention for Kysh.
First I prepared all the tools: a hammer, a saw, nails. The box had to be made wide, with low edges.
The trick, I reasoned, was that puppies don't "go" into the box because there's no post there for them to raise their paws. So, you need to put a column and conduct a test.
Putting the box together was easy. At the bottom of it, on the cross, I strengthened the column, poured sand with small pebbles, which I brought from the construction site, and began to wait for the start of the tests.
As soon as Kysh poured another puddle, I poked him into it with my nose, then led him to the box and poked his nose into a column. And so several times.
The most important thing was ahead. I watched Kysh, drove away from the legs of the table and the receiver, and finally he understood everything. Only at the same time he scattered sand on the floor. But I cried out for joy:
- Ur-ra! Hooray!
And Kish said:
“What a great invention! Why didn't you think of it before?"
“Because I didn’t study at the institute,” I answered and shouted again: “Hurrah!”
At that moment, dad opened the door with a key and gloomily asked what joyful event had happened in our apartment.
I showed him the box and explained how it worked. At the same time, Kysh himself, without my order, conducted an additional test.
Dad, right in his coat and cap, sat down in surprise on a chair.
Did you come up with this idea yourself? - he asked.
- Of course, myself. I can't read! - I said.
- You proved once again that everything ingenious is simple! Great engineering idea! Despite the absolute illiteracy. Well done! Dad frowned again. - What can you say about me. Well! When you learn, you will write an application for an invention, and they will give you a patent. I foresee that licenses for the production of this box will be bought by most developed and developing countries. You will be famous. You will be given the title best friend dogs.
Dad joked, but I understood that he was sad because of some failures.
He ate and lay down on the couch with his hands behind his head. Then I waited for him to read the newspaper and told him that many of the neighbors had lost their magazines again, and that we had Young Naturalist and Funny Pictures.

Current page: 1 (total book has 11 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 8 pages]

Yuz Aleshkovsky
Shh, Two briefcases and a whole week

I dedicate it to my son Alyosha.

1

It was my first day off, because for the first time in my life I spent a whole week in first grade.

I didn’t know how to start such a day, and therefore I decided to imitate my dad: when I woke up, I put my hands under my head and stared out the window.

One day, dad said that on Sunday morning, since there was no need to rush to work, he thought about all sorts of things and how the whole week went. What was more in it - good or bad? And if there are more bad things, then who is to blame for this: the pope himself or, as he likes to say, a combination of circumstances?

There were more bad things in my first week of school. And not because of me, but because of the circumstances that began to flock a long time ago.

If I had been born at least two days later, then I would have turned seven years old not on the thirty-first of August, but on the second of September, and I would not have been accepted to school. But dad already had to persuade the head teacher. And the head teacher agreed to accept me on probation.

I was the youngest and smallest student in the whole school.

In "Children's World" they bought me the smallest uniform, but during the fitting in the cabin it turned out that it was also large. Mom asked to take off the uniform from the false first-grader, who was standing in the window and smiling, but mom was persuaded to refuse this request and advised to change the uniform. They also gave her advice on how to feed me so that I would grow faster.

Mom shortened the trousers herself, and the cap was kept in hot water all night, then pulled over the pan and ironed, but it still fell over my eyes.

In general, on the first of September, I went to school, and at the very first break, the tallest boy in our class, Misha Lvov, measured me from head to toe with my own briefcase. He measured and immediately gave me the nickname of Two Briefcase. And he gave himself the nickname of the Tiger. Because of the surname Lvov.

Even the high school students got my nickname. At recess, they stared at me and wondered:

- Two briefcases!

- Indeed, Two briefcases!

They didn't tease me, but still I felt the biggest insult of all that I received in the nursery, in kindergarten, in the yard and at home.

I went off to the side, didn't play with anyone, and I was so bored that I wanted to cry.

True, once a high school student came up to me, stroked my head and said:

- Two briefcases, keep your nose up. The time will come, and you will become four briefcases, then five, and then eight. Here you look. And do not stand in one place during the break. Break up the bones. And don't be afraid of anyone. They start to scare - inflate your nostrils. They will leave immediately. I've always done that. I am Olya.

“And I’m Alyosha,” I said, and Olya showed me how to flare my nostrils.

But no matter how much I later inflated them, it did not frighten anyone, and my ears roared from the cry:

- Two briefcases! Two briefcases!

For such a nickname, I hated the Tiger. It was good for Dadaev. They called him Dada! Kapustin - Head of cabbage. Galya Pelenkin, as a Brazilian football player, is Pele. Gusev's name is Tyoga-tyoga, and he is very happy. Lenya Katz - Katso. One I - Two briefcases.

Nothing! Maybe in time they will all get tired of such a long nickname and only Fe-la will remain of it. Felya! It's not bad…

So I lay and thought and suddenly stared ... In front of my window, in one place, just like a helicopter, hung a sparrow and suddenly - bang! He hit the glass, fell on the ledge, then jumped up again, fluttered and tried to peck at something.

Then I saw a big blue fly that flew into the room and wanted to fly back. She buzzed, tossed about on the glass, then fell silent, as if losing consciousness, and again began to spin on the glass, as if on a skating rink.

“Here is a stupid sparrow,” I thought, “sees a fly right next to its beak, but cannot peck. Probably, he is angry and wonders how all of a sudden, for no reason, such warm moving air became hard and cold. And the fly is surprised that everything is transparent, but it is impossible to fly away.

Suddenly, the sparrow flew apart again and flew through the window like a bullet into the room. I screamed, waved the blanket - he got scared, made a circle under the ceiling, flew back and fluttered on the glass next to the fly.

And I somehow felt sorry for both the sparrow and the fly. The day off ... The morning is so good, but they got caught ...

I jumped out of bed and opened the window.

“Fly, you fools, mind your own business!” You do not understand that it is not the air around that has hardened, but the glass is transparent. And I understand, because I am a man!

So I said out loud, looked out the window, and I also wanted to go outside.

2

As I thought, my mother was not at home. Long ago, when her grandmother was still alive, she agreed with her dad that Sunday before lunch was her day. My dad and I were on our own for the time being. Dad was lying on the sofa bed the same way I had just been lying and thinking.

- There is no rain. You have to get up and go somewhere,” I said.

Dad squinted at me and didn't answer.

- Well, how was the week? (Dad was silent.) Was there more bad?

“It was both good and bad,” Dad finally answered. – But, in general, the whole week was gray. Dullness is the worst thing that can be. In my opinion, it is no coincidence that spiders and rats ... br-r ... gray ...

- And the elephants? I objected.

“Elephants are silver grey. This is a completely different matter. Both the airships and the planes are also silver-gray, said dad.

I had many good weeks in my life, few bad ones, like the first school week, but the gray week is already something new. When we went to wash, I asked:

So everything was gray? And things too?

- Since thoughts are gray, then deeds are gray.

- Well, what about the weather?

- I think I said that everything was gray!

Dad took my palms in his, whipped up a thick pink foam. I've never been able to wash my hands like that.

- You're confusing something, - I noticed, - the weather this week was sunny. No clouds, no rain.

“Shall we stand here and talk?” Do you want Sunday to be gray too? Wash off the soap!

“Maybe it’s your own fault that everything was gray?” I guessed.

Dad mumbled something, because he already had a toothbrush in his mouth, made scary eyes and pushed me out of the bathroom with his free hand.

While he was shaving, the tea boiled. We made scrambled eggs with bacon and onions ourselves. Papa knew when to cover the pan with a bowl and what kind of fire to make to make the scrambled eggs tall and fluffy.

- What was your week like? Dad asked. - She's not easy. She must be remembered for the rest of her life.

“I remember,” I said, stuffing my mouth full.

- And with whom are you sitting at the desk?

“With Tyoga,” I said.

- Weird name! Dad was surprised. Maybe he's French? Then it’s not Tyoga, but Tyoga. There was such an artist Degas.

- The correct surname of Tegi is Gusev. And why Tega, I don't know.

- Of course, Gusev! Choga-choo! This is how they call geese in the village, - dad realized, laughing. - Well, what was your name?

I didn't say anything as I took a sip of tea. And about my studies, dad probably decided not to ask me on the day off.

After breakfast, he said decisively:

I understand what we have to do! Don't even do it, but do it! Something out of the ordinary! Something out of the ordinary! And then all the dullness will disappear.

“Listen, did I seem gray to you all week too?” I asked.

You looked purple to me! You even had ink on your ears,” Dad said.

- And mom?

“Mom is always beautiful,” said dad sternly.

“Maybe your last name is Seroglazov,” I suddenly realized, “because you see everything in gray?”

“The last name has nothing to do with the mood of a person,” said dad. - Get ready quickly.

“More like it has! I thought. “I wish I could see what mood you would have from the nickname Two Briefcase! ..”

3

I had nothing to collect. But for some reason, dad put on his good suit, white shirt, black shoes, and we left the house.

If it were not for the bitter smoke over the lawn - it was a bunch of fallen leaves smoldering on it all night - I would never have believed that it was already autumn. So it was warm and sunny outside.

There was silence on our very noisy street on ordinary days. And there were very few people and cars. And the trucks did not come across at all to my dad and me on the road. Day off means day off.

And the sparrows were chirping with might and main on the branches of the poplars, but among them it was impossible to recognize the one whom I could have captured, but did not take, but, on the contrary, helped to escape.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder.

- Well, let's think. What unusual can you offer?

"Let's take a taxi," I suggested.

The Volga followed us slowly. Apparently, the driver hoped that we would get tired of walking.

- Well, what is it? “Dad even grimaced. - I found something unusual! You have no fantasy.

A jet liner flew over us.

- Then we fly at least to the Crimea and back!

- Now this is more interesting than a taxi. This is wonderful! Two hours - and we are at the sea! Dad exclaimed. (I froze with joy and excitement.) - We will swim, then we will pick up pebbles, eat barbecue and again from the sea - into the sky! Suddenly dad clicked his tongue sadly. - Nothing will come of it. It's a pity.

- Why?

I forgot my bathing shorts at home.

- Let's go back! We've gone too far!

“There won’t be a way,” Dad said. – You invent the unusual within the limits of the possible. Don't go to extremes. Do you want to visit the Azores?

- I want to! - I said.

– And I want to take a vacation at my own expense and live in space for a week. Think. Summarize. Far away from all mankind.

“You will be bored on the second day,” I said.

“That’s true,” Dad agreed after thinking, “and again it’s expensive.

“Then have a beer with Uncle Sergey Sergeev.”

Dad, at the mention of the name of his best friend, who for some reason did not come to us for ten days, frowned and did not answer.

We sat on a bench in the square in front of the metro and thought.

Dad did not want to go to the circus, or to the steamer, or to the ice cream parlor, or to football. He didn't want to buy meat and go to the zoo to feed the tigers, then take a helicopter to the airport. He also refused to dive from the bridge as a soldier. And I suggested a lot more.

“There’s nothing unusual about all this,” Dad said.

“Do you understand why I don’t feel like going to the zoo?” There are a lot of animals and birds there, but you can’t buy - well, at least a snake - you can’t, ”said dad. “So we’re going to the Bird Market.” Yes Yes! There is the most unusual! I haven't been there in a century! Here it is! Let's go!

– What is unusual in the market? I asked.

- All! dad shouted.

4

We took the metro to Taganka. Past us on the escalator people descended down - both adults and boys, holding jars, transparent bags, aquariums, bags and cages in their hands. The cages were empty and with pigeons, the aquariums with and without fish.

Suddenly, right behind me, I heard:

"Ku-ka-re-ku-u!"

I turned around. Auntie, who was standing on a step below, was frightenedly stuffing a beautiful cock's head into a basket. And the rooster thrashed in the basket, probably angry that he was not allowed to crow properly.

Ahead of us, someone barked, then someone meowed.

- Can you hear such a thing on Dzerzhinskaya or Arbatskaya? Everything here is unusual! Dad said out loud.

And the man standing next to him very seriously remarked:

– We will never forget our childhood in the bosom of nature.

“You are absolutely right,” Dad agreed, half-closing his eyes sadly.

Did you live with him in the same village? I was surprised.

Dad squeezed my hand painfully, which always meant: “Don’t ask stupid questions in front of witnesses!”

- Best wishes! The man said with a smile.

- And all the best to you! - Dad answered and explained to me: - It happens that there are two people, and - mind you! - completely unfamiliar before, suddenly for a second they will feel kinship with each other. I heard the rooster crowed, and we already said goodbye, like friends, and when we meet, we say hello, and maybe make friends.

- But why did he say that you had a common childhood in nature, if you are strangers? I asked.

He meant the childhood of all mankind. Understand? Total! It took place in the villages, in the bosom of nature. There were no cities back then,” dad explained patiently, starting to get angry.

- And how did you and he remember the childhood of all mankind? How come? – I couldn't help asking, because I didn't understand anything.

Dad blushed, but he controlled himself and spoke very quietly and very calmly. That's what he said when he couldn't answer my question.

- One of two things - either we go to the Bird Market, or we will do questions and answers.

"Let's go to the market," I said.

In a fixed-route taxi, dad silently and thoughtfully looked out the window, as if recalling the childhood of all mankind ...

Near the gates of the market, we were immediately picked up by the crowd. It was crowded, but not like in the mornings in the subway, and no one was in a hurry.

Suddenly we were in the middle of a flea market, and I had to keep my head up all the time.

There were no fish here! They were worn in cups, and in plastic bags, and in jars of mustard and tomato juice, and in some kind of greenish rectangular vessels that looked like pieces of ice.

And in all these jars, colorful fish darted about, slowly swam and motionlessly hung.

It turned out that dad knew what they were called.

Red and black with swords on their tails - swordtails ... Curved, like bows, and striped like zebras - angelfish ... Shimmering in different colors, like mother's cloak - fighting fish ... It was impossible to remember the names of all the fish.

They were examined, asked the price, caught with small nets.

In many aquariums, air bubbles trembled like pearls strung on a string. His pumping fish sellers did differently. Some were pedaling with their feet, others had inflated tubes, and one guy was banging his elbow on his side like he had a thermometer under his arm. It was he who squeezed the rubber bulb. A large crowd had gathered around him. The guy had an aquarium hanging on straps on his chest, and fish swam in the aquarium, the names of which dad did not know.

- How much are the fish? - Asked the aunt, who was standing next to dad.

“Three rubles,” the guy said gloomily, looking over the customers.

- This is one and a half kilograms of meat! Auntie was horrified.

- And five and a half kilograms of ice cream sea ​​bass' Dad said politely.

- I know arithmetic without you! - Auntie measured dad from head to toe with a terrible look.

- Five and a half kilograms of perch will we eat for how much? Five days, dad calculated. “And you can admire a pair of such fish forever.

- Are you serious? asked the aunt.

“Quite,” Dad said.

The boy, most likely a sixth-grader, looked at the price for a long time, pondered, now and then climbed into his pocket, finally made up his mind and handed the seller a three-ruble note.

- Here's this one for me! He pointed at the fish, which was no different from the others. He insisted that this particular fish be caught, and the seller caught it with a net and carefully transplanted it into a jar.

The boy stepped aside, all the time holding a jar of fish in front of his eyes. The fish swirled so fast that it seemed to me that a living ring was floating in the jar.

“I can live without this fish,” said the aunt.

“Undoubtedly,” Dad said politely.

Then we walked along the rows lined with aquariums, bowls of live food for fish and bags of dry food.

- Let's get the fighters! I said to dad.

- Wait. Let's see everything first. By the way, if we get lost, we'll meet near that grandfather with the painting.

Dad pointed to the old man. He sat on a box, holding a picture in a gilded frame, and squinted at the sun. And this frame unpleasantly beat bunnies in the eyes.

– What if he sells the painting and goes somewhere? - I said.

We got closer. Dad, tilting his head to one side, looked at the picture and whispered to me:

“Grandpa isn’t going anywhere from here until the market closes. No one will buy this daub for fifteen rubles.

The painting depicted a table covered with a gilded tablecloth. There was a dish on the table. And what was not on it! And apples, and pears, and green onions, and a bunch of red crayfish, and a pale, as if undercooked, chicken, and even an ungutted pike with an open toothy mouth. Nearby were three mugs of beer and gypsum head without eyes, like in a school drawing room. Why dad called all this a daub, I did not understand. I think the picture was beautiful.

How many of those fish can you buy instead of a painting? I asked.

- Five. How are you doing with arithmetic at school? Dad suddenly asked.

- They're coming. Counting sticks, I replied.

Then we looked at the rabbits, and I did not have to lift my head, like at a fish flea market.

The rabbits were in baskets cardboard boxes and homemade corrals from planks. Some slept, others crunched carrots and cabbage leaves, and some looked at me, standing up on their hind legs, and, moving their long ears, pursed their lips in a funny way.

The eyes of the rabbits were large, kind, and most importantly, they were all different: blue, black, brown and light gray.

I stroked the rabbits, and dad talked to the sellers about the best and most profitable breed.

- Well, is it really unusual here? he kept asking cheerfully, and I nodded my head.

5

Then we found ourselves in a pigeon flea market. There were many more pigeons there than people, and it seemed that they were talking and bargaining, and the pigeon houses were quietly cooing.

Dad took the pigeons in his hands, spread their wings, blew into the feathers, carefully pulled by the beak, then asked the price and led me further by the hand.

And near the cage with two white and lilac doves, dad stopped, closed his eyes, mooed with pleasure and asked the seller:

- Expensive?

The seller reluctantly answered something, and the pigeons looked at dad as if they were eagles.

When we stepped aside, dad explained:

- These are postage. A pair is worth more than my suit. What a suit! If they are released in Minsk, they will return to Moscow. Good girls!

Then we bought a couple of meat pies and drank kvass. Dad cheered right before his eyes and scolded himself for not being here for so long.

Near the fence where white chickens and hens were sold, I saw an aunt who thought that frozen perch was better than a beautiful fish. I pushed dad and we got closer.

It turns out that the aunt wanted to buy the same rooster that crowed on the escalator in the subway. She strictly told the hostess that his comb was pale, and his tail lacked the most beautiful feathers.

“And you will sit all day in a basket and probably turn pale too,” the hostess said with resentment.

“It seems to me that peacock’s blood flows in this rooster,” said dad, stroking the rooster on a multi-colored feather hanging from the edge of the basket. – Shall we buy it for the house zoo?

I nodded, and then the aunt quickly gave the owner of the rooster the money.

The rooster itself, with its legs tied, was transferred to a huge bag with a dozen "lightning bolts". He didn't break out. He only said softly and sadly: “Ko-ko-ku-ko,” and his eyes were half closed.

- Excuse me, how many fish could you buy instead of a cockerel? - Dad asked politely.

- Three! - the aunt said joyfully and willingly added: - In the dacha in the grass, he will be terribly handsome.

- Do not forget to hang a board on the fence: “Caution! Evil rooster! Dad advised.

A very pleased aunt smiled and left, and a cock's tail stuck out of the bag, looking like a whole bunch of blued sabers.

- Roosters are postal, like doves?

- But how! And there are fish, and birds, and cats. Even turtles are postal. Only they come back for a long time,” dad joked.

“Well, doesn’t everything seem gray to you now?”

- Perhaps the world has blossomed. “Everything has become blue and green around ...” dad sang and dragged me by the hand to the gate, in a completely different direction from the bird whistle.

6

We walked along the cast-iron grate of the small park, behind which people walked with dogs. And all the dogs were different breeds.

“Here’s the main dog arcade,” Dad said as we turned down the alley behind the Bird Market.

It sold not only adult dogs, but also puppies.

The adult dogs clung to the legs of their owners, paid no attention to each other and did not bark at all when they were examined.

And the puppies, just like the rabbits, lay closely in baskets, bags and boxes.

The little ones slept in a comfortable position. The older ones fumbled, squealed, and screwed up their eyes covered with a light film.

Occasionally we came across people selling cats and kittens.

Dad explained to me that the yellow, long, blue-eyed cats with dark socks on their paws and the same dark tips of their ears were brought from Asia. From the country of Siam. These are expensive cats, but dad would have bought them if it weren’t for long claws and a secretive nature, like all cats.

It seemed to me that cats do not understand that they are being sold, but dogs understand and feel. And this made me feel so sorry for the dogs that I wanted to go back to the birds.

But dad was in no hurry. He took the puppies in his arms, stroked them, asked the price, and asked the owner of a hefty dog:

- Excuse me, but why are you selling a dog if, as you say, it is a good watchdog, smart, eats anything and, moreover, does not have fleas?

The owner of the dog was a little embarrassed and gloomily said:

- Buy it. No need - go ahead. I'm leaving.

The dog suddenly jumped up and barked at dad. Dad after that became sad and said when we moved away:

“If we had a dog and the whole family would go on a business trip, say, to the pole,” dad waved his hand over his head, and then pointed at his feet, “or to the Antarctic ... I would take the dog with me ... As a last resort, I would leave it to neighbors, relatives or friends.

“What if they didn’t take it?”

“At that very moment, they would cease to be my friends and relatives.

“Right,” I said.