ТАТЬЯНА УСТИНОВА «У МЕНЯ ЗАЗВОНИЛ ТЕЛЕФОН». Аудиокнига. Читает Сергей Чонишвили

Tatyana Ustinova. I got a phone call. He was taking a shower when the door slowly slammed and pulled the curtain through the window. The kids have come, he thought, with his soapy hair. It's a little early. Usually you can't get them out of the mountain. It was supposed that they would roll down a couple more times, and then everyone would go to dinner together. They arrived yesterday in a big company and haven't got used to freedom and idleness yet. A tiny gingerbread German town sprinkled with pure snow, lined with Christmas trees, hung with colorful lights and Christmas wreaths, was almost empty. Christmas has passed, and the New Year hasn't come yet. At this time it is customary to sit at home, drink Glühwein, here they say Glühwein, admire the Christmas tree, and with your right hand press your spouse to you, and with your left hand stroke the heads of the babies. All this should be done at home, not on a ski slope. Until this year, he did all this. Well, not quite so sweetly and openly, but he did something in this spirit. The Christmas tree was chosen and decorated by the whole family. They wandered around the shops, choosing beautiful and stupid gifts. They bought food. New Year's food should be enough for about 50 people before Christmas. And he never agreed to go anywhere or fly. Although every year he was called to the mountains, to the beaches. No, well, where to fly for the New Year? And the baked cake in foil? And the gifts under the Christmas tree? And the irony of fate five times a day on different channels? And the ridiculous Norwegian mittens, which are put on a slide once a year on January 1? And the skinny children's asses sticking out over the monopoly laid on the floor? And the kisses that smell like champagne, strawberries and coffee in the early gray New Year's morning under a warm and light blanket? And there is noise in the head, and there are days off ahead, and everything is so good, that it's even strange that everything is so good. This year everything is different. The hotel instead of the house. The suitcases instead of the gifts under the Christmas tree. The work left on the way. It seems he didn't even finish the line in the diary. He left it as it was. He didn't want to finish it. He didn't want anything. Neither to rest, nor to work. And he had to take the dog to his mother. And he sympathized with both, both his mother and the dog. In addition, he was waiting for a call from Moscow. And this call was so important that the thought of him always surfaced in his mind. Even yesterday evening, when he was drinking wine in a restaurant and was taking care of the children, who just at that moment came to his mind to find out who is smarter. They found out this question by knocking each other on the head with a thick book and evaluating the sound that was given out. Mishka, the eldest, announced to the rest that the louder the sound, the more stupid the person became. The younger ones believed and tried to knock each other quietly, half-heartedly, but still, by the end of the procedure, they had to be taken apart. He diligently washed his head. His wife always said that if the hair was okay, she didn't care about anything else. And when he wrapped himself in a towel, he came out of the shower. It's a strange thing. There were no children in the room, neither his own, nor those who came. His social children liked to bring some new acquaintances to visit, from the slope or from the bar, where they drank hot chocolate or cappuccino. The older ones drank with adult dignity, and the little one always snorted and grunted with pleasure like an elephant. He pulled out his lips with a tube, licked the foam, rubbed his sleeve, and he had shiny, round, mousy eyes. His wife laughed and wiped his face with a napkin, in a circle, like Basilio's cat wiping poor Buratino. There were no poor children in the room, but it was discovered that his mobile phone was missing. And this was already serious. Not only was the last model's phone expensive, not only did all the contacts and expensive SMS hearts fit there, and his schedule for a few weeks ahead, and his birthday, but he was still waiting for a call, so he couldn't think of anything else. He searched on the bedside tables in his room and in the nursery too. The chargers were in place, the nursery pipes were also in place, and his phone was like in the water. He searched in suitcases, you never know, maybe they were put in by mistake, nowhere and nothing. How many times can you repeat, Timon, when you fall, you have to shake the snow out of your gloves, understood? Not a child, but some kind of punishment. Something rattled, lightning struck, and Mishka, the eldest, continued the showdown. You now have full gloves of water, are you stupid? He's not stupid, he's just the last in the food chain, that's what Sasha said. Timon kept quiet, all he could hear was a concentrated sobbing. He went out and looked at them. They were in a spacious hall, clumsy from suits and ski pants, red-cheeked, long-haired, and smelling of frost, and his own children. He felt so sorry for them. Lying at night without sleep, with a terrible fear, he kept thinking the same thing. What will happen to you, my dears? What will I do to make you, at least you, feel better? He never suspected that he was capable of such fear. Dad, hi! You shouldn't have left. We all left, we had such a great time, even Tim from the washing board left. He didn't want to, dad, but Mishka made him. Tim is our hero, isn't he, Tim? But he got snow all over his gloves. I fell, Tim thought. I didn't mean to, dad. I got snow all over my gloves. Dad sighed and asked seriously, if they knew where his mobile phone was. What is it, dad? Sasha opened her eyes, blue, huge, mysterious, long, wheat-like eyelashes. But what to do if a daughter has such eyes? We never take it, we don't play with it. You don't let us. And I don't let Tim. Tim focused on attaching his wet gloves to the battery, which were not attached in any way. Having put one, he took the second one, and the first one at that time was slipping on the carpet with a wet frog sound, and everything was repeated from the beginning. Mishka came up, took his gloves and put them on the battery. Tim was having fun, and Mishka, over his confused, light, wet hair, looked carefully at his father. He had a tense, angry face. For some time, everyone was looking for the phone together, but they didn't find it. Dad, didn't you carry it to the slope? Mish, how can I carry it to the slope? Should I carry it on a rope or something? It's big, it doesn't fit into any pocket. And the truth is... Dad, don't worry, Sasha said, just like an adult, your phone will be found. You don't understand, he said to Mishka. They should call him, but there is no mobile phone. Besides, it is impossible that a phone suddenly disappears from an expensive hotel from a closed room. And what else can disappear? A wallet, a wallet, a credit card. Misha, are you sure you didn't take it? Dad, are you crazy? I don't touch your phone at all, or the computer, or the car. If I need it, I'll ask you, period. Yes, but there is no phone. Boys, don't quarrel. Sasha said, just like her mother. Let's look for it. They searched for a long time. And in his bedroom, and in the children's room, and in the bathroom, and in the bags, and in the pockets, where this damned phone definitely could not have been. Even Tim took his finger out of his nose, which he was focused on there, interested in, picking, cheerfully climbed under the bed and whistled from there with a terrible voice. Everyone quarreled to death, but the phone was like in the water. Only the orphaned tail of the charger was dangling, and next to it was a card-key, which opened the magnetic lock. He looked at the card, thought, then quickly climbed into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out the second one, exactly the same one. Well, yes, everything is correct. There must be two of them. Only one he gave to Oleg this morning. They were drinking beer on the terrace of the hotel. These are wealthy, adult, but still young, bald men in Norwegian sweaters and white jackets. On their tanned faces certainly dark glasses. They were drinking beer, terribly proud of themselves, looking at the cock, although the cock was not in front of anyone. Oleg relaxed, drank beer, and then suddenly remembered that he had to buy something immediately, something that is impossible to ride without. Either glasses, or gloves, and gathered in the city, to then have time together with everyone to the lift. His card-key, and at the same time the pass to the hotel, he forgot in the room. And without a card, it was impossible to return. The guards were vigilant, they had to make a whole mess, call the reception, show the passport. So he gave Oleg a card so that he would not rush back and forth, but just go and buy what he needs. It turns out, while he was in the shower washing his precious hair, his wife said that they should be in order, Oleg went into his room, left the card, and dragged the phone. Wait, guys, he said, confused and rubbed his forehead. Wait for me here. And he jumped out the door. The children, all three, accompanied him with alarmed looks. He definitely did not remember in which room a friend lives. He rolled down the stairs and in the hall he saw Pavlik, Oleg's son, who, getting up with his feet in the chair, was playing some kind of game He sighed, exhaled, came up and took the phone which was shaking and rattling. Some cars were driving and stones were falling. It is not good he said to Pavlik, angry. Is it possible? I want to play! The boy said and pulled the phone in which everything continued to go and fall, but without Pavlik's participation. Why did you take my phone? Pavlik was surprised. The question, according to him, was stupid. To play? What for? Dad sent you to give me the card, and you pulled the phone. You are an adult boy! The adult boy nodded, agreeing. Dad said that you need to be yourself independent, like this. Go to dad and say hello to him from me, he said, angry. We all quarreled The phone rang, snorted, all the cars flew in different directions. Pavlik pulled his neck to look. Here, as if thinking about playing further, the mobile phone stopped humming and shaking and rang with a normal, usual, civilized call. He looked at the screen, inhaled, exhaled and pressed the button. Yes! Hi! If she asks now, well, how are you there? It means the end to everything, he said stupidly. Nothing more and never will be. In the end, how much can you suffer? And on vacation they decided for the first time in their lives not to go together. And the New Year for the first time in their lives they will meet not at home. And thoughts, cowardly and stupid, that if you just sit quietly, do not stick out, do not panic, maybe everything will be fine, also for the first time in their lives. She said we need to rest from each other. And he agreed. Where to go? You have to agree, even if the whole world, huge and beautiful, will soon collapse and will fall on your head and scatter in different directions, like in the game, for which the independent Pavlik pulled his phone. Mishka guessed about everything, slept anxiously and looked inquisitively, but did not ask any questions. He was afraid. And Sasha, it seems, guessed too. Only Tim was still cheerful and cheerful, the only one of all. If she asks now, well, how are you there? And will laugh with an unfamiliar mermaid laugh, they all laugh like idiots. Or will ask to call Misha or Sasha, it means never again and nothing. This is for sure. When they left the house and stood stupidly at the door, not knowing how and why to say goodbye, she promised to call. I'll call you, she said, and she took her eyes off. You do not turn off the phone. He did not turn it off. He almost lost it. Dima, said his wife on the phone. I bought a ticket. I'll fly to you tomorrow, can I? He did not even immediately realized what she was asking about. Dima, do you hear me? Yes. It's some kind of stupidity that you left without me. You said you needed to rest from us. Well, I already rested. Fast. What? I can not hear you, you have some kind of noise there. Come soon, he shouted. And Pavlik from the chair looked at him with amazement. We are waiting for you. We will order a dinner with wine. Do you want a dinner with wine? I want you, she shouted in response. And vacation. And that everything becomes as always, Dima. We are all right. We are all right, he agreed and wiped his wet forehead. The most important thing is that you called. I guessed, she admitted. If you do not pick up the phone or turn off the phone, then everything is gone and you do not wait for me at all. I'm waiting. I know, see you tomorrow. What a beautiful, wonderful, seductive word. Tomorrow. So simple, so clear and for so long. He pressed the shutdown button and looked at Pavlik, who was pulling everything out of his neck. You almost ruined my whole life, my friend, he said. And kissed Pavlik in the golden crown. It is not good to take someone else's phones. Sometimes it is dangerous for life, do you understand? There is such a cockroach. Do you want, I will give it to you. He threw the phone, caught it and put it in Pavlik's palm with a bucket. I wish you good health. Dear friends, you have listened to the phonogram created by the Publishing House of the Union and the Publishing House Pokidyshev and Sons. 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