On a visit to father

    I have not visited my father for a long time, since summer holidays. Semester turned out to be stressful, I came home only once. Just spent the night, took a bag of potatoes and again in a hostel. There was no time to go to the father. Yes, and not really wanted to be honest.

    The phrase “on a visit to the father” may seem strange, but I got used to it for a long time - since the parents divorced. I was then ten years old. But the village is a village — it was about ten minutes from the mother’s house to the father’s house.

    He did not knock - who in the village knocks at the gate to enter? Once open - it means you can fall. In the yard, Uncle Vasya worked with a shovel, his father's brother cleared the snow. Of course, no it was not a shovel, but a real pehlo. Or, as they say in the village, pyahlo.

    - Mother honest! - Uncle Vasya exclaimed in amazement. - Zhen! Zhen! Roly arrived! Run to the substation, let the transformer quench!

    - What? - I smiled.

    - So the engineer in the village, run save yourself! - laughed uncle. - Right now, how do you start us to whip up sockets, all phases will fly out!

    Apparently, it was a joke, and I also laughed. Uncle Vasya was a joker at all. He approached him, took off his mittens, greeted him by the hand. At this time, the father came out from around the corner of the house — also in his felt boots (more precisely, in his boots, as the boots were with galoshes), a jersey and a hat with earflaps.

    - Oh, what kind of people! - Father said happily and slowly walked towards me - shake hands and hug.

    - Well, who will run for the bubble? - Uncle Vasya asked cheerfully. - As expected, the youngest?

    - I can run away. - I shrugged my shoulders. - And sell?

    - So you are eighteen already?

    - Yes, it's been a week already. - I answered proudly. - Only there are no passports with you, they suddenly ask.

    - What? - Uncle Vasya laughed. - Who in the village will ask for a passport? If you say, Bata is sober, Galya will sell.

    - Do not run anywhere, I have. - Father said hesitantly.

    - And he was silent, the partisans! - smiled uncle. - wanted to zanykat, or what?

    - No, I saved it for the evening when the bathhouse is heated. Wan, what are you, are you already stepping on the pile?

    - Of course. - I replied and straightened. - I’m living in a hostel.

    - And how about tobacco?

    - No, I do not smoke.

    - That's great. And vodka is in vain, of course ... Well, well, what now.

    - What is it for nothing? - said uncle Vasya. - A man! Yes, and an engineer!

    - In vain you went to the engineers, Wan. - smiled father. - You get drunk.

    - Why? - I was genuinely surprised.

    - Well, how. The village is the same. A neighbor will call you to repair the TV, you will come - and there the fuse has burned out. Delov for a minute, and the neighbor has already prepared a bottle - do not refuse?

    - Dad, I live in the city. There, no one pays vodka.

    - Okay, okay, just kidding me ... Let's go to the house.

    The house was, as always, not very tidy - the usual village bachelor dwelling. Father built the house for a long time, but still could not bring to mind - there was not enough time, he built one, and he even managed to walk to work.

    There was a strange smell in the kitchen, some kind of gruel. Probably something like our common food - do not cook borscht? My father ran to the stoker (this is the kind of room where the stove is heated), brought a bottle of vodka, took out a snack - lard, as usual. Well and so, on trifles - bread, a jar of cucumbers (where does he take them, I wonder?), Sauerkraut.

    They sat down, drank. Vodka, of course, was disgusting - cheap, smelly, as it should be in the village.

    - Come on, tell me. - Uncle Vasya started the conversation. - How is the session?

    - Perfectly passed, for the first time. - I said proudly. - I will receive an increased scholarship.

    - Sausages, come buy it? - smiled uncle. - Or what are you eating there?

    - The sausage is not enough. - I sighed. - But, at least, there are not only homeless packages.

    - What?

    - Well, beach packages. Instant noodles. Do not know what?

    - Yes, to us. - laughed uncle. “We only have paycheck here.” And then, if you're lucky, and the money will be given, and not through the store.

    - Still through the store give, or what? - I was surprised. In general, this practice was common in our village in the 90s, when the collective farm had cash problems.

    - It happens. - nodded uncle. - Although, what's the difference. There are such copers that even with pieces of paper, even with products - one hell is not enough. Well, nothing, we will borrow. Or we will reach retirement.

    - What were the new items? What are engineers taught? - interrupted the conversation about the boring father.

    - Electronics was. - I replied. - It is difficult pancake, and the teacher is a monster. Clever as hell. He has his own company, some kind of electronics is produced, something like microcontrollers for machines that ... How are they there ... Extruders, in short, which plastic bottles blow out.

    - How did you pass? Fine? Understood?

    - I do not know, lucky, I guess. - I answered uncertainly. - I got the most difficult ticket, integral four-quadrant multiplier. There is such a scheme that the four are placed only for the fact that you can draw it.

    - Did you draw?

    - Yes, the memory is good, apparently. And when he did something about how he works, the teacher was delighted and put on the top five. Well, I didn’t want to spoil the record book - the exam was the last, the rest were already fives.

    - And what is the scheme? Will draw?

    - What for? - I was surprised.

    - Yes, so interesting. - shrugged father.

    - Come on, draw. - Uncle Vasya supported. - Check what kind of engineer you are. And then wrote off go.

    Father got up, rummaged on the tables and in the closets, trying to find a piece of paper. I found some notebook, I looked through it, stopped at a clean spread and gave it to me, along with a pencil.

    - So, let's take a second. - Uncle Vasya took a bottle and poured stinky slurry into piles. - Or will you fall under the table and you won't draw a damn thing?

    - Yes, right now! - I declared proudly. - My dose is half a bottle.

    - Oh, you. - mimicked my pride uncle. - He has a dose. Come on, tip over and over the pencil. And we smoke while in the stoker.

    I began to draw. Honestly, the drunk vodka was a bit in the way - I had already started to smile stupidly, but the memory worked fine in those years, and soon the circuit of the integral four-quadrant multiplier was adorned in the notebook.

    - Well, what is it? - Asked the uncle, coming from the stoker to the kitchen.

    - Here. - I pushed the notebook to him.

    Uncle Vasya and his father began to look at the scheme.

    - Does it work on some transistors? - asked the father.

    - What? - I asked again and thought. I took a notebook, looked at the scheme - everything seems to be fine. - What other np transistors?

    - Well, here it is. - father pointed to the image of one of the transistors. - This is a pnp?

    - This is npn. - I answered, and then it dawned on me. - Oh, I get it! Are you English letters like Russian read?

    - What? - surprised father.

    - Well, you probably saw somewhere the designation of the transistor - npn, and read these letters, like the Russians - pr-p.

    - Of course, he has four classes of education. - Uncle Vasya laughed. - Even the German does not know.

    - Not four, but nine. - offended father said. - I finished my studies in the evening.

    - Oh sorry. - Uncle Vasya smiled. - Your amendment, of course, changes everything.

    - Yes, I studied in magazines. - confused father. - There was no translation, as it was written, so I remembered.

    I felt a little embarrassed for my words.

    - Come on, what's the difference. - I waved my hand. - Uncle Vasya, come on, pour.

    When another pile was knocked over, silence hung. I began to worry even more, and decided to smooth out an unpleasant situation.

    - Dad, what are you, studied electronics?

    - Well, yes, a little. - father gladly supported the change of topic. - Then no one really understood this, and it became interesting to me. He began to write out magazines, read, bought a soldering iron, began to collect old stuff - broken tape recorders, television sets, and other stuff.

    - What for? - I asked.

    - Well, how. Then - not the fact that now, you will not buy any elements, especially in our village. Three broken tape recorder disassemble, collect one worker.

    - Did you collect tape recorders?

    - Well, yes, it was business. - nodded father. - Do you remember the barn, near the cherry we stood? That is, you.

    - I remember. And what's in there? Mom there rags old stores.

    - The cesspool was there before. - said uncle Vasya. - Everything was littered with trash. From the whole village, as Plyushkin, collected, that is bad.

    “Now where is all this?” - I asked.

    - There, in the barn. - uncle waved his hand to the side.

    - You yourself sarayka. - answered father. - I have a workshop there.

    - Oh, well, sorry. - Uncle Vasya smiled. - Master Lomaster.

    - So you this, radio amateur? - I asked.

    - Well, sort of. - smiled father.

    - This is you - an amateur. - laughed uncle. - And he is an engineer.

    - What am I a fan? - I was offended. - I'm still learning, of course, but I'm also an engineer.

    - Yes, what are you an engineer! - Uncle Vasya laughed. - I know you, but nones. Tell you to bring a bucket of tension - you’ll go!

    - Oh well.

    - What is well, well? Did the soldering iron hold it at least once?

    - Not.

    - And you do not give something? - asked the father. - The second course, it's time already.

    - Removed, they say, this course. It used to be, but now they somehow manage without soldering.

    - Engineer without a soldering iron? - Uncle Vasya continued to laugh. - Tractor driver without a tractor? Milkmaid without a cow? Honest mother, where the country is heading ...

    - And what for this soldering iron? - I burned. - Now, none of the transistors and resistors does not collect anything. You still remember the lamp. Now on the chips all. I picked up the necessary, according to the parameters, drew a circuit in the computer, spread the tracks - and that’s all, the device is ready.

    - Who is ready? Wood?

    - Well, the device.

    - Hey you, the device. - Picture surprised surprised my uncle. - Can you fix the outlet? Not too complicated device?

    - I can! - I mimicked Uncle Vasya.

    - And the wiring in the house pave? And a shield to collect?

    - What is the flap?

    - On which the counters and knife switches are.

    - Why collect it? - I was surprised. - You can buy in the store.

    - Come on, come on, run to the store, ask Gali for a shield. - smiled uncle.

    - Yes, not in your store, but in normal.

    - And we have no others, only Galya.

    - You yourself, as if, you can assemble a shield ...

    - I am not, but Zhenya can. How many have you collected them already?

    - Yes, I thought it was ... - answered the father.

    - Are you an electrician or something? - I was surprised. - You are a builder, you build houses, stoves.

    - Yes, I do everything, right there is a village. - shrugged father. - And the walls, and the roof, and decoration, and plumbing, and heating, and wiring, and shields, and shingled nailing.

    - Well, shit and I know how to nail. - I answered proudly.

    - Well, everything translated into architectural and construction. - Uncle Vasya smiled. - Once you know how to nail shingles, it remains to learn how to use foul materials and turn on the circulars - that's all, you're a builder!

    - Yah you. - I waved my hand. - Come on, pour it better.

    Uncle Vasya agreed, took the bottle and began to pour. Vodka, as always unexpectedly, ended - he poured equally, but the full stacks did not work.

    - Oh, still have to run. - sad uncle said. - And then on the most interesting place.

    - Do not. - the father shook his head. - Enough, the whole day is still ahead.

    - What is enough for something? - smiled uncle. - In the morning I drank, all day is free!

    - You still have to clean the snow, you promised.

    - OK OK. Come on, work, will disappear in the evening and drive for a new one, under a bathhouse.
    We got up, got dressed, went out into the street. Uncle Vasya again took up the pehlo, began to remove the snow. After vodka it was hot, and he unbuttoned his sweatshirt, threw off his mittens. My father stood next to me and, like, hemmed, not knowing what to do to him.

    - Dad, and show your workshop? - I asked.

    “Let's go, let's go ...” - my father rejoiced and went in the direction of a small barn, which stood behind the house.

    Going inside, I was stunned. The workshop resembled a laboratory at the institute — along the walls were shelves on which tape recorders, television sets, audio speakers, oscilloscopes, some other kind of crap like transformers, bundles of wires and a small things box were neatly laid out. To the left of the entrance stood a large table, on which stood a huge, almost to the ceiling, stand - a panel of white material, entirely studded with instrument dials.

    Coming closer to the panel, I began to look at the devices. Ammeters and voltmeters were recognized immediately, but some devices were not familiar to me. For example, there was an ohmmeter - I never knew that such exist. Near each device were large multi-colored light bulbs, mostly green and red. Apparently, some indicators.

    - To go nuts. - I said, continuing to examine the panel.

    - Yes, it's old. - waved his father. - Do not remember what?

    - Not.

    - In the stoker there used to be this fool. You loved to play with her - you imagined that you were sitting on a plane, or you were flying into space. I turned it on to the network so that the lights were on, and you poked the toggle switches. Really do not remember?

    - Not. And how old was I?

    - Well, how many ... Seven years, maybe. You still grandfathers old helmet put on, tank. And my glasses are big.

    - I remember the helmet and glasses too. And this panel is not.

    - Here you go. - a little confused father. - And I remember everything.

    There was an awkward pause again. We did not like to discuss the past - I was too small for that, but now, when, it seems, the time has come, I did not know what to ask, and my father did not know what to say.

    In order to somehow dispel the awkwardness, I went to the shelves and began looking at the instruments. At this moment Uncle Vasya entered the barn.

    - What, froze? - asked the father.

    - No, I just wondered what you were doing here. - answered uncle. - What, you learn the fool to mind?

    - Yes, well, look ...

    - Dad, what's this? - I pointed with my finger to an incomprehensible device with a multitude of toggle switches, regulators and sliders. - Amp, or what?

    - Yes, the amplifier. - nodded father. - Old, but still needs to work.

    - And what lies here? Lamp?

    - Lamp. And where is it? I do not need, and throw a pity.

    - Do not listen, or what?

    - I heard it already. - Father laughed.

    - Is that the one? - Uncle Vasya also went to the device.

    - He, aha. - nodded father.

    - In terms of? - I was surprised. - What else is the same?

    - Yes, there was a story ... - father was embarrassed.

    - What is the story?

    - Do you listen to the Sector? - asked Uncle Vasya.

    - Well, yes and what?

    - So Dad listened to yours when their first concert came out. I went to chop the wood, pulled the amp out into the street, and how I cut it in - “I am as powerful as a boar, I have my own accordion”. The whole village heard. Grandmas were baptized, neighbors shouted, even the chairman was called.

    - So what?

    - Nothing. - Uncle Vasya smiled. - More he Sector did not listen. On Dobrynin switched, and without amplifier.

    - And you do not need him? I asked my father. - Amplifier, in a sense.

    - Not. - the father shook his head.

    - And what do you want to pick up? - asked Uncle Vasya.

    - Well, you can ...

    - Take it, of course. - Uncle Vasya patted me on the shoulder. - As you cut into the hostel, all your women will be.

    - I have a column. - fussed father. - Now, where is she ...

    Looking around the shelves, my father saw what he was looking for - a hefty, meter tall, column, clearly homemade. Huge, made of chipboard box, upholstered in old, scary, brown leatherette.

    “Only how can you argue her ...” said his father thoughtfully.

    - You do not know the students. - Uncle Vasya smiled. - It will be necessary, they will drag away a cow on a hump, if only there was something to devour.

    - Yes, I only drag the bus to the bus, and there the boys at the station will meet me, I agreed with them. Still want to eat potatoes.

    - We'll take you to the station, don't worry. - answered father.

    - Yeah, and we will sponsor the baggage. - said uncle. - While you did not get your scholarship increased. Is there a mafon?

    - There is. - I nodded.

    - Well, that's it, agreed. Okay, you coo here, I went further to clean the snow.

    - And I'll go too. - fussed father. - The bath must be melted. Will you stay?

    - I'll go home, then, probably, I'll be back in the evening. - I answered uncertainly. - Mom, too, was going to heat the bath ...

    - Ah, well, look. - the father answered sadly.

    - Yes, I'll come, dad. - How could, more fun I said. - Swamp bath, and brooms cook.

    - Yes, yes, of course, now. - father with a smile almost ran out of the barn.

    I did not want to go out. He took a chair, sat down at a table with a stand. He looked at him for a long time, but saw nothing — his gaze was directed inward. I tried to evoke memories of managing space flights, but I could not.

    It became sad. First, a little, then - more and more. Even someone to the throat rolled up, which has not happened for a long time. Maybe it's in drunk vodka?

    No, not in it. One day everything started rolling - and the hopeless feeling of a missed childhood without a father, and the feeling of guilt for knowing him so poorly, and at the same time - pride in the way he revealed to me today.

    Now it became clear to me why I chose the instrument-making faculty when everyone around, in the late nineties, thought of themselves as either bankers, or lawyers, or economists, or gangsters. However, taking into account the amendment to the technology - I was more attracted not by hardware, but by programming. In father, then went.

    Interesting, and father will cope with programming? Although, what's the difference. We must come to visit him more often.

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