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I was taught to collectivism since childhood.
“Lack strengthens grip! – Dad explained, tsapaya next seller by the throat. – The fight hardens the character!
His favorite occupation was to hang and hang.
“The sellers are underweight,” he taught, “they must be hung up. And outweigh.
The lines were my father's element. He was born in them, matured, took the oath, conceived me and my brother.
“It’s boring to live in a city,” my father explained to us, “sometimes there is even hot water there.” And where else can you feel the feeling of elbow, if not in the bath?
We went to the bath every week.
– What for? – I nyunil. – I do not have lice!
“We'll take it there,” papa reassured.
He took everything, everywhere and with battle. Gone bloodless despised.
– But I do not want a bath!
– We were sent there by the party! – the father exclaimed, and we went.
I loved the party.
We were going, as in the campaign – soap, washcloths, brooms, towels, bales with clean linen, bags for dirty. In winter it was especially painful.
– All gathered? – Dad shouted.
– Everything!
Mom was standing at the empty closet, hands down in exhaustion.
– Well, then sit down on the track.
Then, I was dragged on a sled, grabbing with ropes.
– Sit down, do not fidget! – shouting over the wind, demanded the father.
And I did not fidget.
– Do not breathe the frosty air!
Not breathing.
Left floating fence. Father's boots creaked ahead. Snow poured from above.
The waiting room was full of naked drunk people.
“They brought the beer,” papa squeezed, playing with cheeks. – We will take!
And the assault began.
Hygiene is not easy for us. Gangs, benches, cranes – for all this had to fight.
Why the party sent us a bath, I did not understand.
Dad dressed me inconsistently, but tightly. Panties over tights, pants over a sweater, shawl over a hat. Do not step, do not move.
– Do not sweat! He shouted, dear.
And I was sweating.
“The party is wrong,” I whimpered to my mother, “it's bad in the bathhouse.” There drunken uncle shouted.
And my mother promised to take me with her.
With a women's bath – the party did not lose.
Beer was not there, but there was lemonade, and naked aunts. Both I fell in love instantly. Even a hateful teacher without clothes looked much friendlier. And the doctor, in whose hands I always imagined a syringe, even wanted to rub him immediately. I approached her with a washcloth, and asked: "Do you want?". And she laughed.
– Let's go to the bath ?! – I asked my mother the next day.
“In a week,” she answered calmly.
– What about the party ?! – I was indignant.
But mom did not retreat.
Approaching the weekend, I cut off the calendar sheets twice a day, but they still did not come before Saturday.
Soon in the women's bath I became a pet, I got comfortable, and already boldly paced the hall with a washcloth. They fought for my attention.
“Hey, lad, can't you rub me ?!” they laughed loudly.
And I only had one slippery look.
– No, I want that one! – I was heading to the most liked. And he did not accept the refusal.
However, women still behaved with me constrained. I felt it.
– Well, how was the bath? – dad winked at me.
– Normally, – I answered, – today three rubbing.
Dad was jealous.
But once, when I opened the scrambled lemonade “Buratino” on the corner of a stone bench, a traffic jam flashed in my eye. The blow was so powerful that, falling on my back, I squealed. They rushed to me, surrounded me. The doctor even squatted on his haunches …
“The party was right,” I thought, “naked aunts are not at all like naked uncles!”
And the only sighted and unusually wide eyes betrayed me. Aunty alert.
In vain, I then threw a cork in my face, in vain played the falls. I was not surrounded. I scared them.
– Everything. I can't take it with me anymore! – Mom and Dad whispered in the kitchen. – If you saw how he looks …
I listened behind the door, and my heart sank.
“He’s only five,” said my father. – He still does not understand.
– I still do not understand! I shouted from behind the door.
And they invited me.
“I want with my mom,” I sniffled.
– Why? – strictly asked the father.
– Aunt good. They love me.
– See, – the daddy was cheerful, – he is still small.
“Yes, little one,” I nodded. – And there is nothing to watch – they have nothing there. Nothing at all!
From the recollected “nothing,” my eyes suddenly glazed.
In the end, I was excommunicated from the women's bath.
– I do not want to go with dad! – I shared my grief with my elder brother.
“So break your leg,” he advised. – A better scald …
Subsequent visits to the bath have become a real test for the father. I slipped on the soap, crawled into the steam, rushed to the red tap. However, Dad was alert.
– Then earn a sore throat! – prompted an experienced brother.
And I began to devour the snow and breathe the frosty air, which is why my buttocks were burning, but the heat did not come.
However, it was worth fighting for the naked aunts.
– Vitya, is there any lice? – In a desperate impulse, I once turned to a band mate.
And Victor affirmatively sniffed. He had.
– Give. Really needed.
Vitya was lousy, but not greedy.
All day we butted, rubbed the tops, shared scallops …
And by the evening it was itching.
– And I have lice! – I boasted.
And mum has settled.
– The child has pediculosis !!! – she roared so that I donkey.
– What is pediclosis ?! – blinked his eyelashes.
– Golden! Full head nits! So you wash it? !!
Under charges, Dad instantly wilted.
“Scissors, soap, kerosene, and vinegar!” Mum boomed loudly.
“I didn’t ask for a pediclosis,” I roared. – Only – lice. This is Vitka messed up!
But behind the screech of scissors I was not heard.
Mom wailed, a soap-kerosene emulsion burned, acetic rinsing pinched. I howled, kneeling in front of the bucket, and swore:
– Never! I will never look at naked aunts again!
Oaths – unreliable thing.

(C) Edward Reznik

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