Romka and I returned home in the morning, it was already dawn. Barely alive, dirty, disheveled, scratched in blood, dragged along. It broke every bone, every joint. Muscles burned with pain and fatigue.

The torn skin on the palms hurt disgustingly - it was with him that we tried to go down into the ravine, to see what had become of the car, and, of course, we broke down and rolled head over heels. Thank God, only to the next ledge, and not to the very bottom of this abyss. But they beat off everything that was possible on stones, bumps and snags. They were still alive, although Romka assured them that it would not be for long.

It was now that he was just sitting in the kitchen and whimpering quietly - he was exhausted already. And there, in the ravine, I was seriously afraid that he had gone mad. He ran in circles there, howled in a bad voice, fell to his knees, jumped up, ran again, clutching first his head, then his heart. And he swore like he never swore in his life!

Roman, help me. I can't get up.

I really twisted my leg and probably called him a hundred times, but he simply did not hear. And he obviously didn't mean anything. Somehow I myself got up on my knees and sat down on a boulder. And Roma was still making chaotic circles and wailing wildly.

“There are so many stones here,” I noticed, looking around, “we could easily break our necks.

- You'd better turn around! - hysterical Romka. - That would be fast. And what will they do with me now ... Me ... Ah!

- Rum, well, maybe we can somehow agree? Raise it from the ravine, you will restore it gradually ...

- You are crazy?! he howled. - Reach an agreement?! Yes, they will roll me up in cement tomorrow! You don't know what kind of people they are! These are very serious people! They are not for that ... Oh, b ...! How is that?

- Don't yell at me! I yelled. “I didn't ask you to come here. I do...

- Yes, I know, I know that it's all my fault! he exclaimed angrily. “I’m a stupid freak, a headless idiot, a nerd, right, Marisha? What other words do you have for me? It's you who are smart with us, you are always right, and I am a sucker and a moron, so you think? Come on, blame me!

He is right. That's exactly what I was thinking about him, even worse. But he’s also wrong, because I didn’t say anything to him out loud. She sat on a cold boulder, biting her tongue. Because no one will benefit from such accusations, only unnecessary cries will rise.

And I'm already so tired of them. All she wanted was to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Let's go home," I said as calmly as possible.

– Home? Roman laughed hysterically. - Are you kidding? What is home now?

No, it turns out he wasn't laughing, he was sobbing convulsively. Almost sobbed.

“Do you want to sit in this ravine until death takes us?” Roma, you need to calm down. Yelling won't help the cause.

Romka sat down on the ground, hunched over, pulled his knees up to his chest, and hid his face in his hands. He was still crying, but much quieter now, more of a howl. But I'm tired of waiting. Yes, and chilled to the bone. The pain in my leg gradually subsided, and I cautiously got up.

"Rom, are you coming?" I called out to him. He didn't respond. He continued to sit, bent over, and whimpered.

Sighing, I hobbled alone. Several times she tried to climb onto the road: she grabbed the sharp branches and pulled herself up, peeling off the skin. Clinging to rocks, breaking nails. But again and again rolled back. The slope of the ravine was too steep.

Then I heard a rustle behind me. I looked around - behind me, staggering from side to side, Romka trudged along.

Somehow, we nevertheless crawled upstairs, helping each other, and in complete silence wandered home.

***

I literally fell off my feet, I just wanted to collapse in what I had on the sofa and fall asleep. But I couldn’t take off my dirty, tattered clothes, so I washed and treated the wounds for myself and Romka. He sat hunched over on a kitchen stool as if in prostration and did not react to anything. I dressed him like a rag doll, washed him, anointed him with brilliant green all the abrasions and scratches, cleaned the thorns, needles and twigs from his hair. He remained silent, looking ahead of him with a dull look. Once he only said in a whisper:

- I'm dead...

More or less he came to life only at seven o'clock in the morning. I drank tea, even ate a little. Then he changed.

- Where are you going? I asked him, noticing his preparations.

He looked at me haunted.

“Give up,” Romka hissed dully.

– Will you go to the car service?

He nodded.

- Will you tell everything to your master ... in the sense, Ivanovich?

He nodded again.

– And then what?

Roman shrugged. He rummaged through his pockets, took some small change, cigarettes, keys.

Marish, wait for me at home. I'll talk to Ivanych now and come back...

“Maybe I should go with you?” The two of us are somehow not so scary, huh? Well, your Ivanovich will not kill you in front of a witness.

Romka managed to squeeze out a sour smile, but shook his head.

- Don't worry. Ivanych, what is it? It will only break. I'm thinking maybe something can be done. Get a tow truck there somehow. Well, repairs later ... in short, maybe he will come up with something ... And you go to bed, Marish. Rest. If I don’t come right away, I’ll be in the evening ...

Romka pecked me on the cheek with his rough lips and, stepping heavily, stepped into the entrance. I closed the door and went to the kitchen window. Romka came out of the entrance and, out of habit, looked around, briefly waved his hand. But instead of his usual stupidly happy smile, which he gave me goodbye every morning, I saw a fleeing, frightened look.

I was angry with Romka, of course, terribly, but it was very hard to see him like that. And then he walked through the yard like a man going to execution.

And then stretched painful hours of waiting. I still managed to force myself to get under the shower, but that's it. Despite the wild fatigue and pain in the muscles, it was impossible to fall asleep. I couldn't even relax. It was with Romka that I somehow fastened myself so as not to whine for a couple. But he left and what happened to him is unknown, and I myself began to slowly panic.

The heart was pounding. The worst thoughts were running through my head. Did he get beat up? Suddenly crippled? And what kind of serious people are there?

No, I didn’t believe that they would “roll him in cement”, of course. Still, we are no longer dashing nineties. But my heart was very dreary and restless. I could not occupy myself with anything, I could not find a place. In nervous tension, she scurried from corner to corner and again and again approached the window. But Romka did not return.

By lunchtime, I had already worked myself up. In the end, I couldn’t sit still, so I went to the damn car service. Otherwise, I felt like I would have gone crazy.

In five minutes she ran to the workshop, the gates of which were usually wide open, but were now closed. This alarmed me even more. If there is no one here, then where to run? Where to look for Romka?

But no, coming closer, I heard excited voices from inside. The front door was closed, but not tight. Through the gap, I even heard some abusive words. And she recognized the one who cursed - it really was Ivanych, the owner of the car service, who was yelling.

I felt uneasy. Even a cowardly thought flashed by: maybe leave quietly, why get stuck in this turmoil, the peasants themselves will figure it out.

But then suddenly there was a roar and, it seems, a blow. And a short groan...

Without a moment's hesitation, I yanked the rusty handle on the door. Tightly, with a creak, it swung open, and everyone inside fell silent at once and turned to me.

There were five of them: Ivanych, two Romkin shifters and two more guys. The ones I found here last night. One of them was dabbing his broken nose with a dirty handkerchief, while Ivanitch shook his hand angrily, as if he had knocked out his knuckles.

I quickly looked around the garage, ran my eyes around every corner, even went up to the edge of the inspection hole, but I didn’t see Romka anywhere.

What did they do to him? What if those serious ones have already taken him away? And what are these? Left, it turns out, your comrade in trouble? Didn't help, didn't intercede?

- What…? Ivanovich began, but I interrupted him.

- Where is Roma? she asked harshly, intending to give him and the others a scolding if it turned out that they really allowed my fool to be taken away and did nothing to help.

But Ivanych reacted unexpectedly. He turned to me with all his massive body, crossed his arms over his chest, stepped closer. And looking at me as if seeing for the first time, he raised bushy eyebrows. His forehead was wrinkled into an accordion.

- Roma?! Are you asking us where he is? He spoke unkindly. - And we are standing here and thinking just where Romka is. Where does he go? And along with the Mercedes, which he repaired yesterday.