Victor Dragoon - the magical power of art. Dragoon Victor the magical power of art The magical power of art

Dragunsky Victor

Victor Dragunsky

The magical power of art

Hello, Elena Sergeevna!..

The old teacher shuddered and looked up. A short young man stood in front of her. He looked at her cheerfully and anxiously, and she, seeing this funny boyish expression in his eyes, immediately recognized him.

Dementiev,” she said joyfully. - Is that you?

It’s me,” the man said, “can I sit down?”

She nodded and he sat down next to her.

How are you doing, Dementyev, dear?

“I work,” he said, “in the theater.” I'm an actor. An actor for everyday roles, what is called a “character”. And I work a lot! Well, what about you? How are you doing?

“I’m still,” she said cheerfully, “great!” I teach fourth grade and there are some amazing kids. Interesting, talented... So everything is great!

I need a room given a new one...In a two-room apartment... Just paradise...

“How strange you said it, Elena Sergeevna,” he said, somehow sadly... Is the room small, or what? Or is it a long drive? Or no elevator? After all, there is something, I feel it. Or is someone being rude? Who? Head teacher? House manager? Neighbours?

Neighbors, yes,” admitted Elena Sergeevna, “you understand, I live as if under the weight of an old cast-iron iron. My neighbors somehow immediately put themselves in charge new apartment. No, they don’t make trouble, they don’t shout. They act. They threw my table out of the kitchen. All the hangers and hooks in the bathroom were taken up; I had nowhere to hang a towel. The gas burners are always busy with their borscht, it happens that I wait for an hour to boil tea... Oh, dear, you are a man, you won’t understand, these are all little things. It’s all about the atmosphere, the nuances, why don’t you go to the police? Not to court. I don't know how to deal with them...

“Everything is clear,” Dementyev said, and his eyes became unkind, “you’re right.” Rudeness in its purest form... Where do you live, what is your address? Yeah. Thank you, I remember. I'll come see you this evening. Just a request, Elena Sergeevna. Don't be surprised at anything. And completely help me in every initiative I undertake! In the theater it's called "playing along"! Is it coming? Well, see you tonight! Let's try the magical power of art on your troglodytes!

And he left.

And in the evening the phone rang. They called once.

Madame Mordatenkova, slowly moving her sides, walked along the corridor and opened it. In front of her, with his hands tucked into his trousers, stood a short man wearing a cap. A cigarette butt sat on his lower, wet, drooping lip.

Are you, perhaps, Sergeeva? - the man in the cap asked hoarsely.

No,” said Mordatenkova, shocked by his whole appearance. - Sergeeva received two calls.

Don't care. Let's see you off! - answered the cap.

Mordatenkova’s offended dignity moved deeper into the apartment.

Madame's sides began to move more quickly.

“Here,” she said and pointed to Elena Sergeevna’s door. - Here!

The stranger, without knocking, opened the door and entered. During his conversation with the teacher, the door remained unlocked. Mordatenkova, who for some reason had not gone home, heard every word of the cheeky newcomer.

So it was you who posted the paper about the exchange?

Have you seen my kennel?

Have you had a conversation with Nyurka, my wife?

Well, well... After all, I’ll say so. I’ll be honest: I wouldn’t change it myself. Judge for yourself: mine has two roots. Whenever you put your mind to it, you can always figure it out for three. After all, this is convenience? Convenience... But, you see, I need meters, damn them. Meters!

Yes, of course, I understand,” Elena Sergeevna’s voice said chokedly.

Why do I need meters, why do I need them, do you understand? No? The family, brother, Sergeev, is growing. By leaps and bounds! After all, my eldest, Albertik, did he get wet? Don't know? Yeah! He got married, that's what! True, I took a good one, a beautiful one. Why complain? Beautiful - small eyes, big muzzle! Like a watermelon!!! And vocal... Straight Shulzhenko. “Lilies of the valley, lilies of the valley” all day long! Because she has a voice - she will outshine any Red Army ensemble! Well, just Shulzhenko! This means that he and Albertik can very easily forge their grandson soon, right? It's a young thing, huh? Is it a young business or not, I ask?

Of course, of course,” came the sound from the room very quietly.

That's it! - the voice in the cap wheezed. - Now reason number two: Vitka. My youngest. The seventh suited him. Oh boy, I'll report to you. Good girl! Igrun. Does he need a place? Cossack robbers? Last week he started launching a satellite to Mars, and he almost burned down the whole apartment because it was cramped! He needs space. He has nowhere to turn around. And here? Go into the corridor and burn whatever you want! Am I right? Why would he set fire to his room? Your corridors are spacious, this is a plus for me! A?

Dragunsky Victor

The magical power of art

Victor Dragunsky

The magical power of art

Hello, Elena Sergeevna!..

Dementiev,” she said joyfully. - Is that you?

It’s me,” the man said, “can I sit down?”

She nodded and he sat down next to her.

How are you doing, Dementyev, dear?

“I work,” he said, “in the theater.” I'm an actor. An actor for everyday roles, what is called a “character”. And I work a lot! Well, what about you? How are you doing?

“I’m still,” she said cheerfully, “great!” I teach fourth grade and there are some amazing kids. Interesting, talented... So everything is great!

They gave me a new room... In a two-room apartment... Just paradise...

Neighbors, yes,” admitted Elena Sergeevna, “you understand, I live as if under the weight of an old cast-iron iron. My neighbors somehow immediately set themselves up as the owners of the new apartment. No, they don’t make trouble, they don’t shout. They act. They threw my table out of the kitchen. All the hangers and hooks in the bathroom were taken up; I had nowhere to hang a towel. The gas burners are always busy with their borscht, it happens that I wait for an hour to boil tea... Oh, dear, you are a man, you won’t understand, these are all little things. It’s all about the atmosphere, the nuances, why don’t you go to the police? Not to court. I don't know how to deal with them...

And he left.

And in the evening the phone rang. They called once.

Are you, perhaps, Sergeeva? - the man in the cap asked hoarsely.

No,” said Mordatenkova, shocked by his whole appearance. - Sergeeva received two calls.

Don't care. Let's see you off! - answered the cap.

Mordatenkova’s offended dignity moved deeper into the apartment.

Madame's sides began to move more quickly.

“Here,” she said and pointed to Elena Sergeevna’s door. - Here!

So it was you who posted the paper about the exchange?

Have you seen my kennel?

Have you had a conversation with Nyurka, my wife?

Yes, of course, I understand,” Elena Sergeevna’s voice said chokedly.

Of course, of course,” came the sound from the room very quietly.

Plus, of course.

So I agree. Where ours didn’t disappear! Aida utilities look!

And Mordatenkova heard him move into the corridor. Faster than a doe, she rushed to her room, where her husband was sitting at the table in front of a two-pack portion of dumplings.

Khariton,” madam whistled, “some bandit has come, about an exchange with a neighbor!” Go, maybe you can somehow prevent it!..

Mordatenkov jumped out into the corridor like a bullet. There, as if just waiting for him, was already standing a man in a cap, with a cigarette butt stuck to his lip.

“I’ll put the chest here,” he said, lovingly stroking the near corner, “my mother has a chest, about one and a half tons.” We'll put him here and let him sleep. I’ll write my mother from the Smolensk region. Why don’t I pour a bowl of borscht for my own mother? I'll pour it! And she will look after the children. Here her chest will fit just fine. And she is calm, and I feel good. Well, then show me.

Here we still have a small corridor, right in front of the bathroom, Elena Sergeevna babbled with her eyes down.

Where? - the man in the cap perked up. - Where? Yeah, I see, I see.

He stopped, thought for a minute, and suddenly his eyes took on a naive, sentimental expression.

You know what? - he said confidentially. - I’ll tell them as if they were my own. I have a brother, you golden old woman. He's an alcoholic, you know. Every time he gets sick, he knocks on my door at night. Straight out, you know, it’s bursting. Because he doesn’t want to end up in a sobering station. Well, that means he’s pounding, and that means I don’t open the door for him. The room is small, where should he go? You can’t take it with you! And here I’ll throw some rag on the floor and let him sleep! He’ll catch his breath and be quiet again, because he’s the one who makes a row when he’s drunk. In a minute, they say, I’ll cut you all off. And so nothing, quiet. Let him sleep here. Brother after all... Native blood, not cattle...

Dragunsky Victor

The magical power of art

Victor Dragunsky

The magical power of art

Hello, Elena Sergeevna!..

Dementiev,” she said joyfully. - Is that you?

It’s me,” the man said, “can I sit down?”

She nodded and he sat down next to her.

How are you doing, Dementyev, dear?

“I work,” he said, “in the theater.” I'm an actor. An actor for everyday roles, what is called a “character”. And I work a lot! Well, what about you? How are you doing?

“I’m still,” she said cheerfully, “great!” I teach fourth grade and there are some amazing kids. Interesting, talented... So everything is great!

They gave me a new room... In a two-room apartment... Just paradise...

And he left.

And in the evening the phone rang. They called once.

Are you, perhaps, Sergeeva? - the man in the cap asked hoarsely.

No,” said Mordatenkova, shocked by his whole appearance. - Sergeeva received two calls.

Don't care. Let's see you off! - answered the cap.

Mordatenkova’s offended dignity moved deeper into the apartment.

Madame's sides began to move more quickly.

“Here,” she said and pointed to Elena Sergeevna’s door. - Here!

So it was you who posted the paper about the exchange?

Have you seen my kennel?

Have you had a conversation with Nyurka, my wife?

Yes, of course, I understand,” Elena Sergeevna’s voice said chokedly.

Of course, of course,” came the sound from the room very quietly.

Plus, of course.

So I agree. Where ours didn’t disappear! Aida utilities look!

And Mordatenkova heard him move into the corridor. Faster than a doe, she rushed to her room, where her husband was sitting at the table in front of a two-pack portion of dumplings.

Khariton,” madam whistled, “some bandit has come, about an exchange with a neighbor!” Go, maybe you can somehow prevent it!..

Mordatenkov jumped out into the corridor like a bullet. There, as if just waiting for him, was already standing a man in a cap, with a cigarette butt stuck to his lip.

Here we still have a small corridor, right in front of the bathroom, Elena Sergeevna babbled with her eyes down.

Where? - the man in the cap perked up. - Where? Yeah, I see, I see.

He stopped, thought for a minute, and suddenly his eyes took on a naive, sentimental expression.

The Mordatenkovs looked at each other in horror.

“And here is our bathroom,” said Elena Sergeevna and opened the white door.

The man in the cap took only one quick glance into the bathroom and nodded approvingly:

Well, the bath is good and capacious. We'll pickle cucumbers in it for the winter. Nothing, not nobles. You can wash your face in the kitchen, but on the first of May you can go to the bathhouse. Come on, show me the kitchen. Where is your table?

“I don’t have my own table,” Elena Sergeevna said clearly, “the neighbors put it out.” They say two tables are cramped.

What? - the man in the cap said menacingly. - What kind of neighbors are they? These, or what?! - He casually pointed towards the Mordatenkovs. - Are two tables too small for them? Ah, the bourgeoisie are undercut! Well, wait, you damn doll, let Nyurka come here, she’ll quickly scratch your eyes out if you say anything against her!

Shut up, old cockroach,” the man in the cap interrupted him, “he wanted it in the forehead, didn’t he?” So I'll spray! I can! Let me serve fifteen days for the fourth time, and I’ll spray you! But I still doubted whether to change or not. Yes, for your impudence I will change from a prince! Bauschk! - He turned to Elena Sergeevna. - Write an application for exchange quickly! My soul is burning for these scoundrels! I'll show them life! Come see me tomorrow morning. I'm waiting for you.

And he moved towards the exit. In the large corridor, without stopping, he threw over his shoulder, pointing somewhere at the ceiling:

I'll hang the trough here. And then there's the motorcycle. Be healthy. Make sure you don't cough.

The door slammed. And there was dead silence in the apartment. And an hour later...

Fat Mordatenkov invited Elena Sergeevna into the kitchen. There was a brand new blue and yellow kitchen table there.

This is for you,” said Mordatenkov, embarrassed, “why do you need to crowd on the windowsill.” This is for you. And beautiful, and convenient, and free! And come and watch TV with us. Today is Raikin. Let's laugh together...

Zina, honey,” he shouted into the corridor, “look, tomorrow you’ll go to the dairy, so don’t forget to bring kefir for Elena Sergeevna.” You drink kefir in the morning, right?

Yes, kefir,” said Elena Sergeevna.

What kind of bread do you prefer? Round, Riga, custard?

Well, what are you talking about, - said Elena Sergeevna, - I myself!..

STORIES

Victor Dragunsky

THE MAGICAL POWER OF ART

Hello, Elena Sergeevna!..
The old teacher shuddered and looked up. A short young man stood in front of her. He looked at her cheerfully and anxiously, and she, seeing this funny boyish expression in his eyes, immediately recognized him.
“Dementyev,” she said joyfully. - Is that you?
“It’s me,” the man said, “can I sit down?”
She nodded and he sat down next to her.
- How are you doing, Dementyev, dear?
“I work,” he said, “in the theater.” I'm an actor. An actor for everyday roles, what is called a “character”. And I work a lot! Well, what about you? How are you doing?
“I’m still,” she said cheerfully, “great!” I teach fourth grade and there are some amazing kids. Interesting, talented... So everything is great!
She paused and suddenly said in a fallen voice:
- They gave me a new room... In a two-room apartment... Just paradise...
Something in her voice alarmed Dementyev.
“How strange you said it, Elena Sergeevna,” he said, somehow sadly... What, is the room small? Or is it a long drive? Or no elevator? After all, there is something, I feel it. Or is someone being rude? Who? Head teacher? House manager? Neighbours?
“Neighbors, yes,” admitted Elena Sergeevna, “you see, I live as if under the weight of an old cast-iron iron.” My neighbors somehow immediately set themselves up as the owners of the new apartment. No, they don’t make trouble, they don’t shout. They act. They threw my table out of the kitchen. All the hangers and hooks in the bathroom were taken up; I had nowhere to hang a towel. The gas burners are always busy with their borscht, it happens that I wait for an hour to boil tea... Oh, dear, you are a man, you won’t understand, these are all little things. It’s all about the atmosphere, the nuances, why don’t you go to the police? Not to court. I don't know how to deal with them...
“Everything is clear,” Dementyev said, and his eyes became unkind, “you’re right.” Rudeness in its purest form... Where do you live, what is your address? Yeah. Thank you, I remember. I'll come see you this evening. Just a request, Elena Sergeevna. Don't be surprised at anything. And completely help me in every initiative I undertake! In the theater it's called "playing along"! Is it coming? Well, see you tonight! Let's try the magical power of art on your troglodytes!
And he left.
And in the evening the phone rang. They called once.
Madame Mordatenkova, slowly moving her sides, walked along the corridor and opened it. In front of her, with his hands tucked into his trousers, stood a short man wearing a cap. A cigarette butt sat on his lower, wet, drooping lip.
- Are you Sergeeva? - the man in the cap asked hoarsely.
“No,” said Mordatenkova, shocked by his whole appearance. - Sergeeva received two calls.
- I don't care. Let's see you off! - answered the cap.
Mordatenkova’s offended dignity moved deeper into the apartment.
“Come on, walk,” said a hoarse voice from behind, “you’re crawling like a turtle.”
Madame's sides began to move more quickly.
“Here,” she said and pointed to Elena Sergeevna’s door. - Here!
The stranger, without knocking, opened the door and entered. During his conversation with the teacher, the door remained unlocked. Mordatenkova, who for some reason had not gone home, heard every word of the cheeky newcomer.
- So it was you who posted the piece of paper about the exchange?
“Yes,” Elena Sergeevna’s restrained voice was heard. - I!..
-Have you seen my kennel?
- I saw it.
-Have you had a conversation with Nyurka, my wife?
- Yes.
- Well, well... After all, I’ll say so. I’ll be honest: I wouldn’t change it myself. Judge for yourself: mine has two roots. Whenever you put your mind to it, you can always figure it out for three. After all, this is convenience? Convenience... But, you see, I need meters, damn them. Meters!
“Yes, of course, I understand,” Elena Sergeevna’s voice said chokedly.
- Why do I need meters, why do I need them, do you understand? No? The family, brother, Sergeev, is growing. By leaps and bounds! After all, my eldest, Albertik, did he get wet? Don't know? Yeah! He got married, that's what! True, I took a good one, a beautiful one. Why complain? Beautiful - small eyes, big muzzle! Like a watermelon! And vocal... Straight Shulzhenko. “Lilies of the valley, lilies of the valley” all day long! Because she has a voice - she will outshine any Red Army ensemble! Well, just Shulzhenko! This means that he and Albertik can very easily forge their grandson soon, right? It's a young thing, huh? Is it a young business or not, I ask?
“Of course, of course,” came very quietly from the room.
- That's it! - the voice in the cap wheezed. - Now reason number two: Vitka. My youngest. The seventh suited him. Oh boy, I'll report to you. Good girl! Igrun. Does he need a place? Cossack robbers? Last week he started launching a satellite to Mars, and he almost burned down the whole apartment because it was cramped! He needs space. He has nowhere to turn around. And here? Go into the corridor and burn whatever you want! Am I right? Why would he set fire to his room? Your corridors are spacious, this is a plus for me! A?
- Plus, of course.
- So I agree. Where ours didn’t disappear! Let's look at utilities!
And Mordatenkova heard him move into the corridor. Faster than a doe, she rushed to her room, where her husband was sitting at the table in front of a two-pack portion of dumplings.
“Khariton,” madam whistled, “some bandit has come, about an exchange with a neighbor!” Go, maybe you can somehow prevent it!..
Mordatenkov jumped out into the corridor like a bullet. There, as if just waiting for him, was already standing a man in a cap, with a cigarette butt stuck to his lip.
“I’ll put a chest here,” he said, lovingly stroking the near corner, “my mother has a chest, about one and a half tons.” We'll put him here and let him sleep. I’ll write my mother from the Smolensk region. Why don’t I pour a bowl of borscht for my own mother? I'll pour it! And she will look after the children. Here her chest will fit just fine. And she is calm, and I feel good. Well, then show me.
“Here we have a small corridor, right in front of the bathroom, Elena Sergeevna stammered, lowering her eyes.
- Where? - the man in the cap perked up. - Where? Yeah, I see, I see.
He stopped, thought for a minute, and suddenly his eyes took on a naive, sentimental expression.
- You know what? - he said confidentially. - I’ll tell them as if they were my own. I have a brother, you golden old woman. He's an alcoholic, you know. Every time he gets sick, he knocks on my door at night. Straight out, you know, it’s bursting. Because he doesn’t want to end up in a sobering station. Well, that means he’s pounding, and that means I don’t open the door for him. The room is small, where should he go? You can’t take it with you! And here I’ll throw some rag on the floor and let him sleep! He’ll catch his breath and be quiet again, because he’s the one who makes a row when he’s drunk. In a minute, they say, I’ll cut you all off. And so nothing, quiet. Let him sleep here. Brother after all... Native blood, not cattle...
The Mordatenkovs looked at each other in horror.
“And here is our bathroom,” said Elena Sergeevna and opened the white door.
The man in the cap took only one quick glance into the bathroom and nodded approvingly:
- Well, well, the bath is good and capacious. We'll pickle cucumbers in it for the winter. Nothing, not nobles. You can wash your face in the kitchen, but on the first of May you can go to the bathhouse. Come on, show me the kitchen. Where is your table?
“I don’t have my own table,” Elena Sergeevna said clearly, “the neighbors put it out.” They say two tables are cramped.
- What? - the man in the cap said menacingly. - What kind of neighbors are they? These, or what?! - He casually pointed towards the Mordatenkovs. - Are two tables too small for them? Ah, the bourgeoisie are undercut! Well, wait, you damn doll, let Nyurka come here, she’ll quickly scratch your eyes out if you say anything against her!
“Well, you’re not very good here,” Mordatenkov said in a trembling voice, “I would ask you to respect...
“Be quiet, old cockroach,” the man in the cap interrupted him, “he wanted it in the forehead, didn’t he?” So I'll spray! I can! Let me serve fifteen days for the fourth time, and I’ll spray you! But I still doubted whether to change or not. Yes, for your impudence I will change from a prince! Bauschk! - He turned to Elena Sergeevna. - Write an application for exchange quickly! My soul is burning for these scoundrels! I'll show them life! Come see me tomorrow morning. I'm waiting for you.
And he moved towards the exit. In the large corridor, without stopping, he threw over his shoulder, pointing somewhere at the ceiling:
- I’ll hang the trough here. And then there's the motorcycle. Be healthy. Make sure you don't cough.
The door slammed. And there was dead silence in the apartment. And an hour later...
Fat Mordatenkov invited Elena Sergeevna into the kitchen. There was a brand new blue and yellow kitchen table there.
“This is for you,” said Mordatenkov, embarrassed, “why do you need to crowd on the windowsill.” This is for you. And beautiful, and convenient, and free! And come and watch TV with us. Today is Raikin. Let's laugh together...
“Zina, honey,” he shouted into the corridor, “look, tomorrow you’ll go to the dairy, so don’t forget to bring kefir for Elena Sergeevna.” You drink kefir in the morning, right?
“Yes, kefir,” said Elena Sergeevna.
-What kind of bread do you prefer? Round, Riga, custard?
“Well, what are you talking about,” said Elena Sergeevna, “I myself!”
“Nothing,” Mordatenkov said sternly and again shouted into the corridor: Zinulik, and bread! Whichever Elena Sergeevna likes, that’s the one you’ll take!.. And when you come, dear, you’ll wash what she needs...
“Oh, what are you talking about!..” Elena Sergeevna waved her hands and, unable to restrain herself any longer, ran to her room. There she pulled a towel from the wall and pressed it to her mouth to muffle her laughter. Her small body shook with laughter.
- The power of art! - Elena Sergeevna whispered, laughing and gasping. - Oh, the magical power of art...