Sakhalin satirical stories... (Lesogorsk/Zarechye, Sakhalin, 1980) The blessed memory of a friend and comrade in the Zarechye Igor Kavun is dedicated by the author of the line of this story! I - How much is pink salmon, falcons? - Five! - We answer (poachers - such as fishermen). “Why so expensive?” - We risk fifty-five (25 “cat”, 30 tail)?! Sanya Baranchik gets up from the rubble; we brake at his gate. Looks directly at the fish (which is on the "cats") - badly wounded or not: - Where did you catch it? - On Bridge. - Just? - Yeah. Missed a lot. Just before the bag was not caught. Uncle on the "Moskvich" prevented. He asked what we were doing. And How. We showed: a couple picked up and pulled out. Intellectual. Did not buy. Probably from Shakhtyorsk. He said that they could drive up, right there. It seems that already in Lesogorsk their UAZ (goat) saw them. AND; he left (it turned out - he himself is the fish control, but he knew my mother well; he felt sorry for us). - But this one, Uncle Sasha, is still alive! With caviar! See? In the bag. Stirring gills - look ?! - What to watch. Drag to the hut. Behind the belly and the bridge. Her godfather! Shalopai. - Where to leave? (scolded - we smell: a deal has gone; joy) - Ask Natha. Let him take a couple of females. After hearing we hear: - Only with boys caviar - five-by-five (5); croaker - for three (3), if what? What a bazaar. Choose. Do not miss. - Aunt Nata-Sha! .. - seven meters from the porch we shout: further Jack (a shepherd with hanging ears, but with a powerful muzzle) controls the yard. - Jack! Phew! We repeated the same verse. The chain died down. Dog in the booth. But the muzzle is out. - Put it in the basin. - Aunt Natasha, - croaker, for two fifty (2.50), if anything, give it back! - Leave a couple: I’ll fry the milk for myself. The fish is sprinkled with coarse salt. They take us out of the house to the gate: - Take the money. - Thank you, Aunt Natasha. We are a bit ashamed: they sold our own, and not the city ones (coal mining, mining). - Sanya?! Go fish. - "Right now" a seagull (from a ladle) hapnu... Natasha (between us barefoot) in slippers and in a flower dressing gown - I digged home. - Thanks guys... - Uncle Sasha? Did you get a big fine? - Exactly for the salary, - sadness in the eyes. - To the smoke ... enough? - Enough... - on the exhale; eyes to the ground, beyond the gate - we are moving. “Don't tell your parents anything.” - Noticed. They looked into a couple of houses along the same Oktyabrskaya street. Where on the pyaterochka, where for four rubles (no discounts) and croaker flew away. Out of the bag. The shigovat became easier. On cats dried up and dusted. Not presentation has become. And they didn’t take for three! And below we did not concede. We’ll eat it ourselves. At home. Baba Maria will fry a whole pan now. In the flour. Tails and heads in the ear. But this is for them - for adults. Therefore, from the bag mainly - on the five. The buyers were too important. No pity. Retired party bosses: local caliber. We are not afraid. The fishermen. What are the discounts? Out of the bag, with caviar?! Say thank you for not driving the chervonets! II Lafa. Bargained. Before lunch. The rest of the houses were dumped and in Taihata - to the store. Almost fifty dollars at the box office. General fee. “T ...- 134”, “Rod ...”, “Int ...” (who liked what) - Bulgarian; gingerbread cookies, sweets, loaf; green peas of brain grades. Chocolate Black. One for all. The uncle, the first one we met at the store, is fifty grams around the corner, and “Slynch ... Bryag” is also with us. In the hut. To the edge of the meadow. To the river Lesogorka. Picnic. Kid. For five people. We are gods: we are fifteen to eleven years old. Girls are not interested. Not even such a thought. "Hemorrhage, to be honest. Bespontovy. Neither play cards, nor pin up, nor meditate on matters. Air cakes they are. Fans of dandelions, scheduled dinners and pioneer themes. In underpants. It is better not to admit a cannon shot. One today showed Kavuna in his shepherd’s hut. Quickly. For the ruble. Yes, she said to her father at home at dinner. Well de dae? A?! Then he rushed after Kavun with drin, in a clearing - his eyes were rolling out! All gray-brown-raspberry. Like a ruberoid. But the kid (a year older than ours), just looked ?! We did not envy him. Fortunately, in the first hours he did not catch the eye of Marinka's father. Orlov is also de-de. My collective farm neighbor. Household - cows, bulls, pigs; barn, hay, work; his boy - five years old, and two daughters of his wife: eleven, and thirteen years old - from his first marriage. Full twist! But he knew us: the Eagles were great, the Riga mopeds, the fish were red, the Bulgarian, and the little vinyl. In a nutshell: poker on the ears, but on the belly. Bought home. Sanity. In childhood, Orlov himself was the same. But with drin it, another! Irresponsible. We told him (when once again he ran past us through the bushes): - Uncle Sing! What happened? - Where is this Kavun? Shepherd unfinished. - Yes it was. Yes, gone. In his hut he’s empty (there’s nothing to take). He said that he gave money to your Marinka. For what we do not know. - I’ll kill you ... And pass it on. I’ll put a moped on my ears! - Punish! Themselves. Uncle Sing. Calm down! Five drops. It seems to calm down. Dryn to the side. - I trust. - I took a sip. And to myself. There is something and what to do. Of course, let’s give it for money from Kavun! Let’s say: they barely smeared you. Drive a quarter! Good earnings and box office total not strained transaction. Kavun with money: cows graze every summer. Five hundred (500) rubles receives per month (June, July, August): - ten - a cow, five - a bull, three - a heifer. Industrious. Does not rest in the summer. And the eldest in vain touched (looked). We understand Orlov, Uncle Petya. Older and so ugly: problems. To whom? And then there is Kavun - the collective farm tempter. There will be more conversations in the District. A shame. And do not marry. Sin for the soul - such a son-in-law! And Olga is beautiful. Youngest. Clever. That would show?! I would have looked. Buzz. III Five minutes later, they forgot about this. Cigovat lost poker. Fat-bellied. We will now beat him with his naked skin. By cards. Slave. To relish. Fat Boar! Another approach to the table, but let's go swimming! Without adults and women, relaxation is a paradise. And yesterday - oh, in the morning there was still money left. Writer Sergey Subbotenko, Vladimir, Golden Ring of Russia. ... In the photo from the archive of Galina Gerasimovich there is a view of the collective farm from Taihata: right at the top, in the center of the picture there was a bridge where we "fished", at the bottom right, just behind the picture, there was a store, on the left behind the hill was the Lesogorka river, where we went swimming and relaxing after a small business done on fish! #SergeySubbotenko
SERGEY SUBBOTENKO... prose, roles, poetry...
DIALOGUES AT THE GUNS YES TENT.
Sakhalin satirical stories...
(Lesogorsk/Zarechye, Sakhalin, 1980)
The blessed memory of a friend and comrade in the Zarechye
Igor Kavun is dedicated by the author of the line of this story!
I
- How much is pink salmon, falcons?
- Five! - We answer (poachers - such as fishermen).
“Why so expensive?”
- We risk fifty-five (25 “cat”, 30 tail)?!
Sanya Baranchik gets up from the rubble; we brake at his gate.
Looks directly at the fish (which is on the "cats") - badly wounded or not:
- Where did you catch it?
- On Bridge.
- Just?
- Yeah. Missed a lot. Just before the bag was not caught.
Uncle on the "Moskvich" prevented.
He asked what we were doing. And How.
We showed: a couple picked up and pulled out.
Intellectual. Did not buy. Probably from Shakhtyorsk.
He said that they could drive up, right there.
It seems that already in Lesogorsk their UAZ (goat) saw them.
AND; he left (it turned out - he himself is the fish control, but he knew my mother well; he felt sorry for us).
- But this one, Uncle Sasha, is still alive! With caviar! See?
In the bag. Stirring gills - look ?!
- What to watch. Drag to the hut. Behind the belly and the bridge.
Her godfather! Shalopai.
- Where to leave? (scolded - we smell: a deal has gone; joy)
- Ask Natha. Let him take a couple of females.
After hearing we hear:
- Only with boys caviar - five-by-five (5); croaker - for three (3), if what?
What a bazaar. Choose. Do not miss.
- Aunt Nata-Sha! .. - seven meters from the porch we shout: further Jack (a shepherd with hanging ears, but with a powerful muzzle) controls the yard.
- Jack! Phew!
We repeated the same verse.
The chain died down.
Dog in the booth.
But the muzzle is out.
- Put it in the basin.
- Aunt Natasha, - croaker, for two fifty (2.50), if anything, give it back!
- Leave a couple: I’ll fry the milk for myself.
The fish is sprinkled with coarse salt.
They take us out of the house to the gate:
- Take the money.
- Thank you, Aunt Natasha.
We are a bit ashamed: they sold our own, and not the city ones (coal mining, mining).
- Sanya?! Go fish.
- "Right now" a seagull (from a ladle) hapnu...
Natasha (between us barefoot) in slippers and in a flower dressing gown - I digged home.
- Thanks guys...
- Uncle Sasha? Did you get a big fine?
- Exactly for the salary, - sadness in the eyes. - To the smoke ... enough?
- Enough... - on the exhale; eyes to the ground, beyond the gate - we are moving.
“Don't tell your parents anything.”
- Noticed.
They looked into a couple of houses along the same Oktyabrskaya street.
Where on the pyaterochka, where for four rubles (no discounts) and croaker flew away.
Out of the bag. The shigovat became easier.
On cats dried up and dusted.
Not presentation has become. And they didn’t take for three!
And below we did not concede. We’ll eat it ourselves. At home.
Baba Maria will fry a whole pan now. In the flour.
Tails and heads in the ear. But this is for them - for adults.
Therefore, from the bag mainly - on the five.
The buyers were too important.
No pity.
Retired party bosses: local caliber.
We are not afraid. The fishermen.
What are the discounts? Out of the bag, with caviar?!
Say thank you for not driving the chervonets!
II
Lafa.
Bargained.
Before lunch.
The rest of the houses were dumped and in Taihata - to the store.
Almost fifty dollars at the box office. General fee.
“T ...- 134”, “Rod ...”, “Int ...” (who liked what) - Bulgarian; gingerbread cookies, sweets, loaf; green peas of brain grades. Chocolate Black. One for all. The uncle, the first one we met at the store, is fifty grams around the corner, and “Slynch ... Bryag” is also with us.
In the hut. To the edge of the meadow. To the river Lesogorka.
Picnic. Kid. For five people.
We are gods: we are fifteen to eleven years old.
Girls are not interested.
Not even such a thought.
"Hemorrhage, to be honest. Bespontovy.
Neither play cards, nor pin up, nor meditate on matters.
Air cakes they are. Fans of dandelions, scheduled dinners and pioneer themes. In underpants. It is better not to admit a cannon shot.
One today showed Kavuna in his shepherd’s hut. Quickly. For the ruble.
Yes, she said to her father at home at dinner. Well de dae? A?!
Then he rushed after Kavun with drin, in a clearing - his eyes were rolling out!
All gray-brown-raspberry. Like a ruberoid.
But the kid (a year older than ours), just looked ?!
We did not envy him.
Fortunately, in the first hours he did not catch the eye of Marinka's father.
Orlov is also de-de. My collective farm neighbor.
Household - cows, bulls, pigs; barn, hay, work; his boy - five years old, and two daughters of his wife: eleven, and thirteen years old - from his first marriage. Full twist!
But he knew us: the Eagles were great, the Riga mopeds, the fish were red, the Bulgarian, and the little vinyl. In a nutshell: poker on the ears, but on the belly.
Bought home.
Sanity.
In childhood, Orlov himself was the same.
But with drin it, another! Irresponsible.
We told him (when once again he ran past us through the bushes):
- Uncle Sing! What happened?
- Where is this Kavun? Shepherd unfinished.
- Yes it was. Yes, gone. In his hut he’s empty (there’s nothing to take).
He said that he gave money to your Marinka.
For what we do not know.
- I’ll kill you ... And pass it on. I’ll put a moped on my ears!
- Punish! Themselves. Uncle Sing. Calm down!
Five drops. It seems to calm down. Dryn to the side.
- I trust. - I took a sip. And to myself. There is something and what to do.
Of course, let’s give it for money from Kavun!
Let’s say: they barely smeared you. Drive a quarter!
Good earnings and box office total not strained transaction.
Kavun with money: cows graze every summer.
Five hundred (500) rubles receives per month (June, July, August):
- ten - a cow, five - a bull, three - a heifer.
Industrious. Does not rest in the summer.
And the eldest in vain touched (looked).
We understand Orlov, Uncle Petya.
Older and so ugly: problems. To whom?
And then there is Kavun - the collective farm tempter.
There will be more conversations in the District. A shame.
And do not marry. Sin for the soul - such a son-in-law!
And Olga is beautiful. Youngest. Clever.
That would show?! I would have looked. Buzz.
III
Five minutes later, they forgot about this.
Cigovat lost poker. Fat-bellied.
We will now beat him with his naked skin. By cards.
Slave. To relish. Fat Boar!
Another approach to the table, but let's go swimming!
Without adults and women, relaxation is a paradise.
And yesterday - oh, in the morning there was still money left.
Writer Sergey Subbotenko,
Vladimir, Golden Ring of Russia.
...
In the photo from the archive of Galina Gerasimovich there is a view of the collective farm from Taihata: right at the top, in the center of the picture there was a bridge where we "fished", at the bottom right, just behind the picture, there was a store, on the left behind the hill was the Lesogorka river, where we went swimming and relaxing after a small business done on fish!
#SergeySubbotenko