Borkin the turn

- Son, go-ka to the street! - Just popped in Boots from the street into the upper room, where the table to do homework fifth grader Anton angrily called his father.
 - A Th you want? - I muttered Anton, not looking up from his notebook - the task of mathematics was now very hard, and help him in the house there was no one, and his mother, and his father Antohi finished just three or four classes ("This time it was, my son - sighed the mother. - And you learn, learn. Maybe you will become an agronomist or livestock expert »).
 - Over shoulder! - I shouted angry with Dad hangover. - Come on, I say! Borka his will call us out of the barn! Do not go, the infection!
Dad swore and ran out of the house, slamming the door.
 - Go on, son, come, help folder something - ceased to rattle the dishes from the kitchen with my mother looked anxious face.
 - And why should they Borka? - Anton asked suspiciously.
 - Well, why, why - evasive mother sighed, pushing a strand behind her ear precipitated gray hair. - What do you as a child, by God? Himself know everything. It Borkino time.
In Antohi ache in his stomach. Of course, he was not a little, and he knew and saw that Dad sometimes does with the living creatures that bleats, moos, grunts, kvohtaet and cackles in assorted klunkah, barns, stalls, naleplennyh to one another in different parts of their large rural farmstead.
Family Pankin, to whom he had the honor to belong, and Anton was considered in Moiseevke a business. Dad Antohi though drank, but he knew his business. In the barn they always shifted from one foot to the other and sighed sadly cow and one calf or two; grunting in the pigsty with five pieces of rising to the slaughter of pigs; We wandered around the yard a few melancholic sheep and a couple of goats demonic yellow eyes; [next] meeting in close Kompashki busily pecking pours down on the ground feed chickens; side, drawing on the ground spreading its wings, walked angry turkey, chatting hanging from the nose red leather "snot" and looking for someone to bite; cackled scandalously large white and gray geese.
Dad, when my mother asked him about this, deftly plucked every feather creature's neck and went to the deck and a special second ottyapyval her bird's head with an ax, and cast it still flapped in the side. And as if nothing had happened, I went to do other things, because I was already on my mother's care - scald stained with blood of the bird and pluck it.
With sheep father also cut into time. Catch the hind leg kicking yarku timidly, he puffing sticking out from the corner of the hard dry mouth a cigarette, dragged her under a specially built shed at the woodshed. By bringing in a bunch of sheep, all four legs, he tied them with twine, then, then he took his right hand a sharp knife, and ... And five minutes later osvezhevyval hanging by its hind legs carcass.
More fuss was with pigs. One boar or a beefy already served and lost their reproductive capacity of a pig weighing fifty kilograms, or even two hundred and father were not cope. With Antoshka, although older of the two brothers, the good was not there, and Dad invited to help make the killing swinish Uncle Kolya, who was married to his sister Sonia.
Uncle Nick, thin, with ever falling down with skinny ass pants, always came with a hangover, complained that his hands were shaking, and they are before you hit the ground running, drank with her father a bottle, and then the other, for which his father had sent in Shop mom.
My mother grumbled, but did not dare to contradict her father - the one strong, short-tempered, and his entire adult life dispassionately village gubivshy pets, and some people were quick to violence.
Then they flushed after drinking, went out into the yard with a constant cigarette in his mouth, together piled on vymanennuyu of pigsty some zapashistym pig feed - especially those conducted on cooked in their skins small potatoes - laid her heart-rending scream on his back, and father shortly and strongly beat long-bladed knife in a pale-skinned deepening under the left front leg and a short allotted his ruthless hand side. If the hit was precise and cold steel immediately punched swinish heart, it was a little squeal.
But if the wrong hand and the blade stopped a centimeter-other from the heart, it screams unsuccessfully slaughtered pigs could be heard far neighborhood. Anton at such moments plugged his ears and ran to the house or the yard far away, not to see and hear it all.
Such stiffness yard Pankin occur regularly as. However, in all other yards Moiseevki and considered the case, though unpleasant, but usually. Not to hurt the animals and killing them, it was impossible to take away from them the fat, meat to feed families and to sell the surplus. This zhivoderstve in the ground and built the welfare of villagers. And all the children from infancy to know where are the delicious chicken legs in a soup or thick juicy burgers on a large frying pan and skvorchaschey belonged to backyards bloodshed if not indifference, then with understanding.
But it happened in rural families and tragedy - this is when parents inadvertently permitted to their young children grown to love the slaughter of pigs, calves. Of course, these children an hour X tried not to let out into the yard, but there are still after some time found the disappearance of his favorites, about which then hysterics and pushes on her plate, knowing that they swim just their flesh favorites. However, these wounds were not very deep and healed quickly. We can say in a few hours, especially when tired, there is one bread with milk. And the image of the beloved funny creature quickly erased the memory of the child.
Anton on his short memory has been lost so ridiculously white pig with black and snout stigma, which he called Chernyshev, and virtually hand gander Gogol. Boris was the third month-being, to which Anton attached since its birth. It was a beautiful mottled calf with red, almost red spots on the dazzling white skin, who was born in the winter and the first few weeks after his birth lived in their home in a specially fenced off for a corner of the kitchen.
The family Pankin this cow calf delighted all. However, in their own way. Parents - because it was the bull, which you can fatten up for meat and profitably sell. Anton with her younger brother Vanka - because Boris was a very sociable guy, willing to suck their fingers still warm his toothless mouth and dribbling, and he liked to butt with the boys. So Anton, then Vanya, seizing the moment, until they see the parents (the ones blamed them for this fun, considering that the bull can grow very bodlivym), bending and leaning his forehead against the curled brow Borka, pushing him. Boris also began puffing, claws abut driving around in a wooden floor, and often they've been a draw.
Because Borka was transferred to the barn closer to the mamma, and then the spring came. The street was warm, the snow came down, and the rapidly growing bull, which is literally bursting with energy, and he was jumping like crazy in his cubbyhole, began to let the fresh air. And Boris, funny vzmykivaya and twirling naked tail with a fluffy brush on the end circles rushed across the yard, scattering chickens and sheep.
And with the advent of the summer began to cast out them that Borka in the pasture with her mother, ox-eyed and with a very large, just a bucket of milk, cow's udder dawn. Somewhere out there, beyond the village, they have a whole day pinching lush grass under the supervision of public shepherd eternally drunken uncle Elijah Kopeikin, and returned home with a heavily hyped sides. Boris grew very quickly, by the fall, he had almost caught up with his nurse. His head has become very big, like a suitcase, and was crowned with thick and is still short, but very convincing horns. A rear between the legs dangling Borka funny oblong and round, weighty scrotum.
In the bull played a hormone, causing much plainer in nature, he became irritable, trying horns to break his Zacuto, and, being in the yard next to his mother, he immediately tried to climb it, pulling on the efforts of the neck and drooling of moaning mouth, but Dawn angrily nipped These overtures and even a couple of times kicked him in the face with cloven hooves.
 - It is necessary to castrate Borka - once said over lunch the mother's father. - Buy a bottle, I'll call the vet.
I came a fragrant alcohol, manure and some smelly muck veterinarian uncle Gesha Antsiferov. The bottle with the father they usideli in the garden, in the shade of a spreading maple, but Borka scrotum cut did not. Vet folder scientifically proved that the eggs will grow faster than the bull and gets more weight, for which it has rolled out a folder and a second bottle. So Borka stayed with their personal belongings, and once did with his mother what has long sought. Both adults only happy that the manifestation of animal incest: Dawn just came to hunt and did not have anyone to agree to it for payment covered some else's bull - your coped well with this important task, and now on the Zorka could wait for a new litter.
And Boris is rapidly increased in volume four hundred pounds, bull. He feared everything except Antohi. Boris still willing Keep this affectionate blond boy to him, especially when he came with a loaf of bread, lightly sprinkle with salt. And he loved when he scratched his neck. Boris put his heavy head on the edge of the fence and only sighed loudly when Anton crunching him divaricata combed his fingers through his hard saggy neck with a powerful leathery fold.
Closer to spring from the feed was tight, and his father decided that Borka feed no more sense and it's time to put it on the meat. Donating bull "scroungers" from the procurement agency, trying obegorit owners purchased the cattle, he did not ("on you ... I told them I will vain to give a third of the price!" - Shouted Dad the night before, when a bottle agreed at their home with Uncle Kolya when Borka will decide).
And Borkina turn came. Already today.
 - Well, where are you stuck? - Exasperated father said when Anton, throwing his jersey and thrusting his feet into galoshes (the street has to melt), reluctantly followed him out into the yard.
 - Yes, I go to the same walk, - Anton muttered, Scourge of the father to the barn. In the courtyard it has all been prepared for the slaughter of a bull: a slaughterhouse canopy bed of fresh straw, and next glowed neatly washed enameled pots and troughs for offal and meat kurilos ferry filled with warm water from a bucket hanging from the edge of the rags. On deck were two big island Edged Knife (father yesterday afternoon, wincing from the smoke, sticking out of the corner of his mouth a cigarette, long shirkal them in a semicircle emery stone). It was also leaning against the deck and the ax, lay on straw belts long reins.
And Antohi went cold inside when he finally realized that all this terrifying arsenal procured to painfully and mercilessly killing Borka and turn it into a few hundred kilograms of meat and then sell it on the market in the district center. The very silly and fun bull with which they are so nice, forehead to forehead, butting in the kitchen on winter evenings.
 - I'm not going to call Borka - suddenly stopped and said in a hoarse voice Anton.
 - Why so? - Ominously narrowed father.
 - Because you're his slaughter - Boris whispered and sobbed.
 - Well rastudyttvoyuprotakproetak! - In the hearts bent something unpronounceable father. - What do you like a little, huh? Well went to the barn!
And he slapped his son is not strong, but quite hefty slap. Anton jumped in fright and dutifully trudged toward the barn.
 - Bread Take - thrust into his father's hand pink. - I've picked up. Even prisolit. as he likes.
Boris was in his pen, not turning his head to the manger with hay, and the exit and grimly nabychivshis. His mother, Dawn, lying on the boardwalk in nearby and loudly sighing melancholy chewed gum. And it seems did not care, that now should happen to her child of growing up.
 - Moo-y! - Bass complained of something Boris, seeing Anton.
 - On, Borenka, eat, - wiping tears, handed him Anton crust. Borka neatly caught loaf long bluish language and sent it into his mouth, slowly jammed by moving the lower jaw from side to side.
 - Well, I call him - said quietly behind him father. - Or do you want us to cut down his ax right here?
 - I am right now, right now - scared hurried Anton. Opening the fence, he affectionately called:
 - Come on, Bob, let's go for a walk.
Boris confidently stepped him from the fence, stepping cautiously huge cloven hooves, went out from the shadows of the barn. And stamped for Anton to the shed, where for him was harvested. Uncle Nick, seizing the moment, deftly threw the bull in the neck even through small horns rope loop and the other end of her strapped to a pole.
Father at this time bustled in Borka feet - he had them, all four, somehow quickly and in particular caught the reins, and they, along with Uncle Kolya pulled together the free end. Rein swept on his feet in an elaborate bull noose pulled them all together, and Borka a puzzled grunt staggered, lost his balance and fell on the straw.
Anton with growing fear of watching how deftly working men: Uncle Kolya pulled tight head Borka horns to the post, and his father for the insurance again crossed legs bandaged bull. He was now helpless, and only breathed noisily and hunted twitched around proteins bluish bulging eyes framed by whitish lashes.
 - Fuf! - Sighed the father, wiping his sleeve scruffy jacket sweaty forehead. - Come on, Nick, a hundred grams of turf but break. I'm tired of something. A bull is let him lie down. Anywhere he is not going anywhere.
And they're not paying attention to standing on the sidelines and downcast Anton went into the house. As for them, gritting, closed the door to the porch, Anton rushed to the bull, got to his knees and muttered, stroking his curly forehead:
 - Borenka, do not be offended at me, okay? Well, what are you looking at me like, huh? I can not help it, he has to understand ...
 - Mmuuu! - Again quietly complained to him and tried to stand up Borka, but only pulled tangled legs and sighed resignedly. Antohi impressionable eyes dripped tears again and he tknuvshis bull lips in the rough wet nose, got up to leave. Do not go home to unfinished lessons, and somewhere away from the yard so as not to see or hear what is happening here. Anton had previously vowed to whatever was to learn and leave the village forever, never to not raise cattle and not to kill him. And now he had only strengthened their resolve.
Boris held his sad eyes, and the eyes of the doomed animal Antohi slashed the heart like a knife. And Anton, still not understanding what he was doing, but at the same time realizing that occurred in his life the very moment when he is required to act, returned to the deck, took her knife and, crouching near Borka, cut the rope, which he was strapped to a stake by the horns. Borka immediately raised his head dangling around his neck with a scrap of rope and tried to get up again.
 - Right now, Bob, right now! - Anton frantically whispered, crawling on his knees at his feet, and cutting the styanuvshie their reins. Steer hard to immediately jumped to his feet and remained standing on the spot, is not yet determined, apparently, where to go.
Anton ran up to the gate, opened it, and returned to Borka, slapped his palm on his muscular ass, as both would be pushing forward:
 - Go on, Boris, on the street - he said pleadingly. - Well, go well, I tell you!
A blunt Boris grabbed a tuft of straw and began to chew. Then Anton took some desperate woodpile stick and gently tapped on the bull fleshy thigh.
 - Fuck, I go!
And Boris, realizing that Anton drives him from the yard, slowly walked to the gate, stomped past staring into the courtyard window of the parlor, and out of the house, fortunately no one noticed, because Vanya hovered somewhere in the village, his father and uncle Coley carousing at this time in the kitchen, and my mother, as usual, was busy at the stove.
Touching its steep sides opening wicket, Boris squeezed out and gradually moved toward the end of the village, which is usually in the pasture in the morning collected all the cattle before chase it out to pasture. Steer well remembered this way and confidently walked through it, no doubt in the fact that it is being driven to where lush green grass growing. It does not bother him, and that was not there his constant companion - a cow-mother Zorka. The main thing was close to holding hanging from his neck, rope, Anton and Boris trusted him as anyone.
Anton is in a hurry to oust bull for the village, and then let him go where he wants, above all, save it now harvested from these terrible knives, and there come what may. He could not imagine what the bashing ask his father for having hijacked the yard almost four quintals of beef failed.
 - You son of Michael Pankin? - Through the bitter thoughts Anton heard someone familiar male voice and stumbled, stopped.

 

 
   
 





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