A little girl was sitting on the huge porch of the manor, under a pediment with four columns. Squinting at the bright sunset, she occasionally ruffled the fur of a large shaggy dog that was sleeping under the porch. On the girl's lap was a tin box filled with transparent multi-colored lollipops. It was a gift from her older brother, who just yesterday, after saying goodbye to his family, went abroad. The little girl took the most beautiful lollipops, looked through them at the sun and put them back in the jar. No matter how tempting these transparent sweets were, she didn't eat them.…
"Vera," she was called from the house. The child ruffled the dog one last time and ran into the house. The year was 1939.…
.. Another time, another house, another even the sun in the sky. The same Vera is sitting next to him. Only now her name is Vera Demyanovna.
- Tell me, please, why didn't you want to try the treats from the box? - I'm asking.
Vera Demyanovna's voice was trembling a little, and she was wiping her wet eyes with the edge of her apron. Her story was sometimes interrupted by a short silence: either to remember a particular moment, or not to cry at all.…
– As soon as the rumor spread that the Red Army was entering our lands, many then went abroad, and, as it turned out later, saved their lives by doing so. Most of the young people left, including my brother. We were very friendly. Whenever I met him, he would take me on his lap and give me something, telling me funny stories and fairy tales that he might have invented right there. He was funny and playful. Everyone was drawn to him, to such a leader and Talker. He knew a lot about wedding ceremonies, any matchmaker could envy him.
As I remember now, Konstantin then put a box in front of me and said: “Here, you won't have time to eat these lollipops, sister, as I'll be back.” I blurted out that I wouldn't eat them, I'd wait for him, and then we'd try them together. Kastus laughed merrily, hugged me tightly, kissed me, and, saying goodbye to everyone at home, left. As it turned out later, forever.
Then my narrator couldn 't stand it ... She held her apron to her face for a long time. That's how our dear grandmothers are: both life and memories - all through tears. Through heartache, excessive mental suffering.
- My brother left very early, at dawn. And in the evening commissars entered the farm on carts and cars. Late in the evening, my father was called to the house, which had been vacated especially for the newcomers. The owner was put out on the street, and for a long time afterwards his family lived in a fenced-off part of the old threshing floor.
When my father returned, I overheard him talking to my mother. He said that he was required to tell his son to return home. They promised a sweet life. I remember how my mother, through tears, barely audibly whispered that, on the contrary, it was necessary to inform her son and others so that they would not speak their noses here. Her fears later came true: those who returned were immediately taken outside the village to the riverbank. People from villages downstream fished out the bodies of those who had been shot and secretly handed them over to our distraught relatives in our village.
My father was called, perhaps, every evening. One day he returned frowning, sat down at the table under the icons and began to cry. I had never seen my father cry before. We were ordered to dismantle the house and move it to a neighboring village, where it would be used to build a village council. Through tears, the father added that the threshing floor and two large outbuildings also had to be dismantled. There was only one small shed left, which we later rebuilt as a house.
They began to take people with their whole families to Siberia. My parents were also preparing for this. They were afraid that if my brother did not return, we would all be sent to the polar bears, as people called the deportation of people to Siberia back then. But we stayed.
As it became known later, because of my father. He was an educated man who knew three languages: Hebrew, German and Polish. We had a large library in our house, a good collection of newspapers and magazines, and we often bought new books. My father was offered to cooperate with the new government as an interpreter. But I was a little ahead of myself," Vera Demyanovna apologized and stopped her narration.
- Then, with my childish mind, I tried to buy, if I may say so, my brother's life from the Bolsheviks for this box of lollipops.
And it was like that. My father had another meeting with the commissioner at headquarters. Before they asked us to dismantle the house, there was a rumor that several people had returned from abroad. And it seems that someone saw my brother among them. My mother spent the whole night crying. In the morning, my father hurriedly got ready for the new government, and I immediately got involved with him. Neither admonitions, nor even threatening shouts stopped me. The father waved his hand and left the house. I followed him.
Secretly planned something and definitely decided to do it.…
The fact is that the whole neighborhood already knew that in addition to noisy night drinking and shooting at pots hung on a fence, the chief boss liked sweet treats. He seemed to be gnawing on them continuously. He always had a piece of candy in his mouth.
.. Three people were sitting at a large table, and another was standing by the window, chewing on something. My father immediately, speaking very quickly, began to plead for Konstantin: he talked about his incomprehensibility and youth, his fervor. He took out a small canvas bag from his bosom and put it on the table. I came out from behind him and also put my box of chocolates next to the bag and quickly hid behind my father's back again.
The one standing by the window came over and unwrapped the package-there was money in it. Then he opened the box and poured some lollipops on the table. Everyone was silent. Suddenly he laughed out loud, and the others began to giggle after him. Even my father smiled. After pouring out all the other candies on the table, the commissioner threw an empty box next to it. Said: "maybe they're poisoned?”. There was a deathly silence in the room. The father turned pale and staggered. And I came out from behind him, took three lollipops from the table and put them in my mouth. The commissar is talking at the top of his lungs now. His henchmen, who were sitting at the table, were also laughing. He waved his hand at the policeman, and we were turned out onto the street. For many years afterwards, I believed that only my box of lollipops saved Kastus' life.…
My brother didn't show up at home then. Maybe he wasn't among those who returned. Or maybe…
Here Vera hid her face in her apron again. Her hands were shaking, and the birch branches were shaking in the wind, losing their last leaves.
It was a year ago... However, it was just autumn.…