Denis Kovalenko Biography

Denis Kovalenko. Vadim left the hallway. And, slipping through his uncertain face, she stared at a fashionable sweater that was stuck from under an open shelter in a yellow-black strip, as if just jumping out of the TV screen. She herself connected a sweater for him-an advertisement crawled out onto the screen, all in the yellow-black stripes, urging “all together to paint the world” and “make it brighter”.

And his brother stared at the young people who spoke on the phone in these “painted the world” and “made it brighter” yellow-black scarves, sweaters and caps of the nabecra Vadim, the sweater smelled. The sister did not answer, shrugged and did not even look back. The sister bought it two weeks ago, but the next day her young man, without five minutes, presented her with a gift - a dawn telephone, and the device that was lying in Vadim in his pocket, lay unclaimed in the sideboard of the sideboard, and now, with a stake he stuck out in the pocket of the sheepskin coat and the whole point.

It’s soaking and Vadim: it did not work out quietly ... A sheepskin coat, jeans, boots, hat - my mother bought everything. And now everyone wanted to pull and throw it - because he was going to him - too sister touched. He sank into a chair, staring at the back of a faded old robe,-the sister sat on his brother's back on his brother, small, thick, holding a remote control in one hand, and wrapping the light hair with the other, and snapped a television remote control-one channel after another; She always watched the TV when she was bored or angry, and could click for an hour so, without linger and for a minute on any channel - all the more now Vadim could not endure this, but silently looked at the screen replaced the bright pictures of a meaningless pool life.

Sister turned around: - So what is I? He adopted you when you were already eight years old. Do you know about it?! Now Vadim stared staring at the TV stubbornly, where the deputy demanded clarification, and he really wanted to hear: which? The skater cut off the deputy; The children in stupid fruit and berry costumes slammed their hands: “I am a tomato,” a boy cried, and her sister turned off the TV, jumped up and went out into the kitchen.

Vadim has already heard all this, and more than once, from a sister and never once - this is how - from the mother. Mom never said anything about whom it was impossible to think about - and who Vadim was not arguing for him with his sister, she had an argument: “So you hate mom, since you go to this, you always wanted to know everything about my father, you just rabbit my mother, not without romanticism, of course - she loved rejoice that she didn’t look like him.

Yes, it’s nice to be a tall, well -built long -legged brunette - and at nineteen years he was very beautiful, and the girls just went crazy along it. The face is noble, dark-skinned, the eyes are black, the eyes are tenacious-and you think that the whole soul will be taken out of you now and everything is external! .. And the fee, fever! Even at the most noisy party, he sat down somewhere in a corner with a book - and read when everyone - everyone had fun!

.. Music, laughter, wine, girls - and he is with the book aside! ..

The girls are approaching him, calling to chat, drink, dance. He himself approaches and he - music, a homon, laughter! .. Here, - the sister took out the book of Marseille Proust from the bookcase, - this is the memory from him. There is not even signature; Mom lies that a gift, stolen - as a keepsake. This is impossible to read, gallest; I tried-you won’t understand anything at all and in silence, not like at a party.

And he shocked the book - reads, calm, even thoughtful face, how to despise everyone in order to come to the party and, sitting in a chair, read how to hate people and you know what, - the sister looked significantly at his brother, - he did not just hate them, he is generally a schizophrenic, a stupid of a sick! You understand?! I had five, you are three; You don’t remember, but I remember - my mother and I walked and met him.

So he pretended not to notice us. Passed, but mom could not restrain herself, said: "This is your dad." I did not believe it, caught up with him, and he looked at me strangely and asked: “Why do you, girl? He looked at me, then at my mother, at you - you stopped at five steps - and asks: “Is this your mother? Okay, then I did not understand these words; It’s bad that I remembered them.

After that, Vadim and his sister did not talk for a month. And now, here: the door to the kitchen slammed shut, Vadim silently rose from the chair, glued his hat on the back of his head, as all the boys were worn in their yard, and left the apartment. Without waiting for the elevator, running all five floors, and - out of the entrance. But I am sweeping him and I think: “What a fucking snow,” he gnawed and winked.

Vadim smiled, although he was not funny. He did not like this sports fashionista with painted hair, who every time he met some stupid joke, exposing, exactly this-the story that happened to him. And there is nothing to watch. Valera, that was the name of the guy, was talkative and friendly, Vadim only heard from him: “Well, we’ll drink the beer, I treat it,” or “I can give up.” But it was worth agreeing, Valera clapped his hand on his forehead with his palm in the solarium and suddenly recalled: “I am doing it!

..Come on tomorrow, okay? Well, great! Vadim looked back at this white “ten” - at one time, only once. He had a dream, for a long time, to have the same white “ten” with black tinted glasses, namely the “ten”. And inside the stereo system MP3. I wanted to scream from powerlessness. Having firmly drowned his fists in his pockets, squeezing the cell phone that he will have to lose today, he walked, looking under his feet, at the disgusting courtyard, forced by cars.

And not a single decent tree-completely stunted twigs that could not grow on this earth, tried-and still died, gnawed by stupid dogs or broken by frostbitten kids that they could not pass by and not break a branch or two, so as to abandon it, children who played football here, in the yard using these tiny trees Vadim, Vadim hated it. Their children - unreasonable non -wrths, that they could only shout, complain about each other for mothers and break the trees everything here was disgusting: and the playground rolled into asphalt, all plastic, new -fashioned, with slides and tunnels, where all summer, as soon as it was installed and fenced with a metal fence, they sat on the scams, and the children were trembled, and the children were trembled From the hill uh!

One dad tried to stir everyone when his daughter tore his hand to her blood, falling off this damn slide, all ran to the deputies so that this asphalt was stuck and was filled with sand. Mom and Dad tried to dissect: let's all together, a collective letter to the mayor. Those looked at him from underneath, as if he was asking for three rubles for beer, his faces turned back, only she said: "Lazy to us." And the other added: "Why asphalt is normal, clean." The dad after and did not look into the eyes of the neighbors; But everyone looked at him as a moron - there was a social activist everything was nauseous here: a platform, mothers, kids, cars near the porches; and snow - white, in gray squares from knocked out carpets; And at home-faceless, painted in bright irritating-tonding colors.

Endless ten -story buildings and a white sky above them, and behind them - fields and everything - the end of the world, the end of the world. Only lifting cranes and trucks bringing new blocks with black eye sockets of windows. And under the endless Brech of dogs, under an incomprehensible someone else's dialect of strangers, who from time to time for fun were beaten by local youth, were built, new faceless residential arrays were built and it seemed that it would always be: dogs, alien dialects, lifting cranes, ditches - snow, endless white snow.

Father lived in a completely different area. There, near the entrances, snow was cleaned to asphalt, everything was laid out for a long time with tiles-the center, and in the middle of the courtyard-the episode with new benches and many, many trees: apple trees, pears, cherries once here was a private sector; The houses were brought, and the gardens were left, and new houses were built - warm, thorough Soviet houses - according to the old GOST.

Because in these houses, in the new court, all new people were to live - the best workers of social labor. And Vadim’s grandmother, his father’s mother, was just the best - worked as a school principal; And the head of the central department store lived above, and behind the wall-the head of the factory workshop, and the floor below-the buffet of the Philharmonic, who still remembered the singer Pugachev and said: “Ah, alka, or something?

And now - what kind of singer there, - she always proudly remembered and added: “Not just like that, but Borisovna.” This was a good old man-buffet. And everyone lived together, my grandmother said: they went to each other for the salt, for matches and, coming, remained for an hour to drink Indian seagull, talk “for life”. In the evening they gathered in the yard; On the weekend, the film mechanic on the stage showed some ideological, about the factory, and it happened, and cartoons-then the whole yard was gathering, a hundred man.

The kids rejoice, satisfied, laugh, and behind the pop dads at the tables are sitting in dominoes, play chess, drinking “Zhigulevskoye” drink and do not worry that the kids of their unattended, some movies are watching; And what will happen? And, if all this is in May, then the whole yard in a white-pink apple color was listened to all this Vadim-and it was not believed that the movie in the yard, apple trees in color, and everyone was respected and not afraid.

And if you live in this area, then at least go at night, no one will touch you; The main thing is what you know from the famous hooligans - and go to yourself with the world. Only do not go to a foreign area - they will have a chant and they will take the money. And in his own way - how much will fit, at least one, at least drunk. This is a neighbor, the son of a sideboard, told him; He was very yearning for those times, especially when, near his entrance, local teenagers of the drunk beat him and selected the money - and all silently, without unnecessary entry.

Both oil and sausage; In the stores nothing, the ball of the roll - and in the kitchens each Indian tea, and Brazilian coffee, and Moscow sausage. They went to the store only for bread, and if necessary, then all through friends.Blat, he was above the Council of People's Commissars. And no one complained. And they believed in communism, and in God, and in the future they really believed-because people had the present.