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The lunch already came to an end. … For work, for work. There passed several days. There was the next Friday, the end of working week. Revival reigned in the room: on the middle of the room several desks surrounded with chairs were built in a rank. On tables bottles with vodka and wine rose. Around them plates with various snack crowded: house salting by cucumbers, mushrooms and other works of house culinary and country art. Celebrated the birthdays of Vladimir Vikentyevich - one of the oldest staff of laboratory and leading experts. - "I call all to a table!": Valentin Sergeyevich "In places proclaimed! Vladimir Vikentyevich! And you here, here. On a place of honor!" When the noise accompanying the procedure of occupation of places at a table calmed down a little, Valentin Sergeyevich for greater effect knocked on a glass glass with a fork and proclaimed: - "Companions! Today we celebrate round anniversary since birth expensively to Vladimir Vikentyevich standing at the origins of creation of our laboratory …". Further everything went on a knurled traditional path: the order of the CEO, delivery of gifts from collective. Well and certainly, toasts, speeches, declarations of love. As contents of bottles decreased, the subject of advantages and talents of the hero of the occasion was replaced with others: recipes and in the ways of salting cucumbers, fermentations of cabbage. In one end of a table results of research work which shortly should be handed over to the commission were discussed, younger employees shared the feats on the love front. The room was filled now by dissonant noise. Suddenly this dissonant din blocked a loud voice of Vladimir Sergeyevich: - "Victor Petrovich! And than your adventure with Aychurek came to an end? You promised to tell!". Dissonant noise at a table abated at once. And the heads turned back to Victor Petrovich. "Tell, we ask!" - I supported Vladimir Sergeyevich dissonant chorus, participants of a celebration sitting at a table and fairly already become tipsy. Victor Petrovich tried, was to refuse, but all his attempts were stopped, and nothing remained to him as, having drunk up orange juice from a glass to continue the story. "Well, it is fine" – Victor Petrovich agreed, at last: "I that I want to tell: this surprising thing - human memory. Here where put points - I don't remember, for the life of me. And events of the childhood, youth – not one decade passed - are remembered to the smallest details. Listen". Aychurek limped to the house. And Vitka continued to stand and look her following. But when behind her the door slammed, Vitka grievously sighed and too trudged was, to the house, but then changed the mind. Still he knew only space in front of the house: a canopy where slept, cooked food, edge corn and clover water also that ill-fated waste ground where prickles grew. And here that there, from a reverse side of the house? Vitka didn't know it yet. Now he decided to meet this lack. No sooner said than done. Vitka rounded the house, before him the world appeared new unprecedented him hitherto. Before him a number of small lodges lasted. Some had high roofs, peaked. But they were covered with what - that strange, on Vitkin a look, sheaves from long plants unknown to Vitka. At some houses of a roof were almost flat, overgrown with a high grass among which hats of poppies quite often reddened. Between houses along the street clay fences - duvala lasted. In them doors - gates were done. And along the street different trees grew. Some were high, slender with dark green foliage. Something they reminded a grandmother's spindle when yarn is reeled up on it. Others, lower. These were sprawling with small roundish leaves. There were two more, three trees absolutely surprising here: the same prickles with which Vitka got acquainted in the first day of stay in the town when he ran across the field to meet the uncle Volodya hung on them among leaves. Only now they for some reason from the earth got on a tree. Also there were they dark claret, almost black color. Much they lay near a tree on the dusty earth. "It is necessary! How far from the field they got" - Vitka thought, diligently bypassing harmful prickles. But as I tried, after all I came on several "prickles" lying on the earth at once. To the surprise Vitka at the same time didn't feel any pain: "prickles" were very soft, from them juice flowed out and it was smeared on a leg sole. And still there was a ditch in which transparent water cheerfully streamed. This is then Vitka learned that this ditch is called "арык" to Vitka the thought came to mind to start up "ship" in swimming. Quickly enough there was a chip, and Vitka started it in a ditch. Water picked up a chip and incurred downstream. Vitka ran behind her, with admiration watching how his "ship" overcomes all obstacles. The street turned to the left, behind it and turned and арык. Vitkin "ship", submitting to a current, I flew with running start on the coast and I stopped. Vitka fell by knees and "ship" from the coast pushed away. The rapid current picked up him, and he directed again forward. Vitka rose from knees and here only saw that he арык widely spread. Also quite big pond in which with squeal the uneven-age children lapped turned out. Vitka lost any interest in "ship" now, left him to the mercy of fate and went to a pond. The pond was not deep. Boys and little girls with squeal chased one after another in water, lifting the whole cloud of splashes. Some, having been tired of bustle, laid down on the dusty earth and were basked in the hot sun. Vitka approached closer and sat down at the water, is bewitched looking at bathing. Carefully I lowered a leg in water, I dangled her. Very much he wanted to plunge too also into the water, to splash, rush. But he knew nobody here and the water space filled him with misgivings. And he sat. Suddenly water left the girl of years of nine-ten. Her body everything was covered with pimples, she shivered, her turned blue lips small shivered. It stretched on the earth near Vitka and began to row up to itself hot dust as though it wanted to be earthed more deeply. Gradually, having got warm, she ceased to shiver. The water droplets covering her body under the hot sun disappeared in the eyes. Her sponges turned pink. Pimples from a body disappeared. She turned over on a back. Then I sat down, having drawn in legs to a breast.