What can happen? Is he going to try and slap my dad? Yes please! I do not care.

“Maybe he won’t have to do it. Soon everything will resolve itself.

I turn my head towards him. The arrogance flew off in seconds. Bluffing?

I think you should know. Your father was being tested. And everything is very bad.

- What does he have?

"He's spitting up blood, just like you wished him a while ago."

Numb fingers grope for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

Yes, I'm a witch, - I take a puff.

You're just being defensive. Shock.

“So you wanted to talk about it seriously?”

Can you suggest a more serious topic?

How long does he have left?

- Few, very few, Kostya. It won't last until spring.

- And you, like an angel of mercy, decided to reconcile us before his death, - I open the door and shake off the ashes into the gray snow. “Maybe you can also find my mother so that she can say goodbye, as it should be, to her beloved husband?”

- Do you want to see her?

- Over the past twenty years, I saw her only once, and you remember how it ended. I'll live another twenty, and there, you see, she will die. You just have to figure out how. I wonder if my witch magic works only when I issue a wish personally to the face of the object?

"Let's go." He gets out of the car. - Come on, Bones. Get out of my car.

Legs don't work well. Do I really feel sorry for him? I have wished him dead for a very long time. Painful and slow. And that seems to be the case. Where is it - a sense of triumph? But no. Only desolation. Because I always wanted to crush him with my own hands.

Yelisei looks at the ground, prying on the dirty snowdrift with the toe of his boot.

“You seem to be more worried about him than I am,” I state the fact.

“I have told you more than once that you are to blame.

- In what?

- That I communicate with him more than his own son.

- I'm not jealous if you're into this, - I hit my cigarette with my finger, and smoldering tobacco falls out of it in a lump. “It would be better if he adopted you instead of producing me.

Elisha says nothing. He is motionless. Only the always light gray look is filled with lead. Here I was wrong.

“Sorry, I got excited,” I pat him on the shoulder. - Lets change theme.

- How much can you pull? You are degrading. Get a hold of yourself. I don't want you to go back into depression after he dies, or go on a drinking binge, or worse. You just recovered from... this time it can be fixed. Because you already know what will happen. I want you to return to the profession. He continued his work. And I, as now, will help you in any way I can.

- I'll think about your proposal - formally, coldly. - Shall we go inside?

- Late. He arrived.

I follow Elisha's gaze. My father's car pulls up to the cafe and parks not far from us.

Gets out. Himself.

- The meeting is set up by you.

- You need to talk, - now Elisha pats me on the shoulder and leaves.

On the way to the car, he crosses paths with my father, they shake hands, and go their separate ways.

Not far from the entrance to the cafe, the father stops. Looks at me. Waiting. Smiling artificially. Apparently friendly. It seems that he wanted to spread his arms to invite him into a hug. But the attack erases both the mask and the ostentatious intentions. He coughs up. I swallow. I smoke a new cigarette.

- Do you want to lead? - the father puts the handkerchief in the pocket of the open sheepskin coat and pulls out the keys to the car, holding the key chain with two fingers, on his outstretched hand.

"You said you wouldn't let me near your property again."

- Are you angry? I just blew up then. Today you will lead, Kostya, - my father takes a few steps towards me, puts the keys in my palm, squeezes my fingers. He takes out an iron flask from his pocket. The lid clicks, falling off the body, and the frosty air now smells of whiskey. “You wouldn’t let your father drive drunk. It ended very badly last time.

Bitch, presses on the patient. His self-satisfied face begs for a fist. Leave a dent in his flabby red cheek. Kick once in the stomach when he falls into the snow. It would bring me so much pleasure.

- You already know? Elisha told you?

Did you expect me to sympathize?

You are as cruel as your mother.

- How do you both put together. Flesh from flesh, - I crush the cigarette with my heel. Flattened, wet in the snow. - What are you waiting for? What will I learn from your mistakes? Am I supposed to enjoy asserting myself by being more humane than my parents?

- You should like to live, - with the look of a philosopher, he looks away, takes a sip from the flask. - And you're ruining everything. Despite the conditions.

I chuckle. I'm squeezing the keys. I go to the car. Fingers after his touch as if in mud. I want to wash up. Fall out in the snow.

I move the chair back. The buttons turn the mirrors so that I can see everything.

- Did you miss luxury? - he smiles satisfactorily, considering me behind the wheel.

- I never liked this car.

- She's not yours. Yours is waiting for you in the garage. And you still don't come. A car is like an animal. Faithful dog. Horse, - takes another sip.

- Take it away. The cabin will stink.

- They only recognize their master... Do you know that Mashin's father is looking for you?

We drive away from the cafe. If only the roads were clearer. Deal with this quickly.

- He despises you. Although he doesn’t even know how right he is in his contempt, he again drinks his words with a sip of whiskey. - Just guessing. So let these guesses remain with him.

- I'll stop at the North. I'll park at the store, not far from my apartment. And you will take a taxi.

- Not. You take me home and you stay at home.

- It's not my house anymore.

- Where is yours? At the apartment of one of your girls?

- Not. I don't have a home at all. Haven't earned yet.

And you will never make money. You screwed everything up. Education, profession. What for? I did everything for you.

- Stop, a.

He stops. And even removes the flask. Breathing heavily. He leaned his elbow against the car door. His lips betray emotion clearly: he is disappointed.

Elisha is right. We need to sort it out now while my father is alive.

I press the gas pedal, and we drive to the outskirts of the city.

- I'll bring you home and we'll talk. We need to resolve the issue with the clinic. You have to accept that I won't go back there. Do with her as you wish. I don't care.

"I let you choose your own business." I didn't fuck your brain with the fact that you have to continue the family dynasty. Not interested in politics - accepted. Wanted to save lives - come on, please. The best university, courses, connections. The most annoying thing is that you did well, Kostya. From start to finish. Estimates. Recommendations. Internship. The operations performed are still there. You really could be one of the best. The very best. None of your operations ended in failure. Have you ever thought about this? You saved people's lives. And suddenly decided to score. Let them die, right? Do you think it's bad for me? Yeah, you didn't tell me. You fucked yourself.

- I know that you gave bribes. You bought everyone. Everything they said was a lie. I was promoted for your money.

- Nonsense!

- Drop it. I have learned you by heart in these twenty-nine years. You can't leave something out of control. You must control everything. Even who I'm fucking with.

- Well, somehow you chose yourself. And where is she? Where is your little Mashenka?

- Enough.

- I'll tell you. There, - he pokes a short finger at the ceiling of the cabin, - high in Paradise. Happy as hell that she died. After he fucked her in all holes.

I hit the brakes.

Blood gushing from his nose. This picture before my eyes is like an obsessive insect.

I hit my own father. I hit a person who is sick. Hit a man who is about to die.

The fingers release the head. Along the car back and forth. We need to get back to the salon. See how he is.

Sorry.

After what he said? Well, I do not. He deserved it. He didn't dare to say that.

Just turn around and walk away, that's what. I'll go on foot. In forty minutes I will reach the apartment, if at a quick pace. What if I run...

To my left is a car on the road. It costs thirty meters. As soon as I turn my head, the headlights go out. But the car isn't going anywhere.

Elisha was right? Is someone following my father?

I take a step towards an unknown car. Little. Red or raspberry. It is unlikely that this Kovalevsky would have sent a killer on such a wheelbarrow.