When he passed this steep stretch of road, he always paid attention to a rather large boulder that lay by the side of the road. He liked him. The stone delighted him with its powerful silhouette, stability, and reliability. And there was always some kind of protection from him. After a while, this boulder turned into his talisman, an amulet. Driving past the stone once again, he waved at it, smiled and asked for help and protection for today. And as a deeply religious person, he was always embarrassed by this, promised himself not to allow such weaknesses anymore. But the friendship between a man and a boulder has become some kind of sweet and harmless adventure, a small secret known only to the two of them.
And then one day he had a dream: a boulder is smashed into rubble with huge anvils. It falls at his feet and, like an ice floe, melts and flows into the sand. And the sand under his feet turns into a quagmire, dragging in his legs. It's hard for him to get out, it's hard for him to breathe, he screams, calls for help-and wakes up.
Driving past the stone that morning, he stopped for the first time. I went up to him, felt him with my hands and sat down next to him, leaning my back against the unbending back of this giant. The impressions from the dream were so strong that even now he saw his friend crumble under terrible blows, turning into dust...
Grandma appeared as if out of the ground. "Just a man passing by," he thought then. It all happened suddenly. But there was no anxiety or worry in my soul. He stood up and greeted her politely. And in response, I heard: "you, dear man, do not touch the stone, it should be here, the earth gives it good strength here." And, after a pause, she added: "And that's what the dream says."
The head swung and hit a rock lightly. He was still leaning back. There was only his car nearby. Something else was moving in the memory. In a daze, there's an old grandmother, he's talking to her, and she's asking him for something. "Tired, very tired," he thought. - Yes, and the previous night was sleepless, hard.""He wanted to make sure to do what he had planned before morning. "And you, my friend," he said softly, getting up, "I'll move you. I'll be working and I'll definitely be back home. No one will touch you there."
And after a while, a huge crane loaded a boulder onto a powerful tractor. The cables broke several times. And several times the stone fell back to its original place with a thud. The earth shook in response, as if it was moaning, either saying goodbye or asking for something. And here is this miracle of nature next to the plot of the house, by the fence. But there was something wrong with this stone, in this place where it lay, even the road seemed wrong and not the same as before. He was uneasy that his reliable and loyal friend had become completely different. Like what? Every day it became more and more difficult to answer this question.
This morning was like all the previous ones. Only he got up later than usual. Therefore, the fees were hurried. My head was pounding. Towards morning, he finished his work. Everything turned out as planned. He was sure that people would definitely like the result of his sleepless night. Just for a moment, he was stuck by the stone. But that moment seemed long to him. In that second, a lot of things that had happened to him lately came back to him clearly. I remembered that morning, and the meeting with a strange grandmother.
But her request... "What did she ask me for?"- already on the way, he tried unsuccessfully to remember it. Soon, the turn of the road where he always slowed down to greet his unusual friend, to ask him... But what is it? He sees the boulder in the same place! Only it's dark for some reason. Even black. And the glare from the stone. Bright glare directly into the eyes. And the trees are running terrifyingly nearby, and this dangerous bend in the road, and this speed. For the first time in his life, this speed scared him...
It's been a long time since I've been to these places. Luxurious houses rose up like a dense wall, and fences turned this place into many small fortresses or prisons. It's cramped from these houses and fences. An old garden, fenced with an ordinary picket fence... Everything is terribly neglected. When the owner was there, everything was in good condition, well maintained. And there's a boulder in the thick grass. It doesn't seem so big here. No one knows that I call him Volodya the boulder. I come closer. I bend down and touch it.
"You're here, alone. Why don't I move you?
- Do you want to buy? - I get scared and turn around. I see a tough kid with brown eyes.
- We will arrange the export for free. There is a technique. And as if justifying himself: "the fences are coming up from the road itself, and here's a turn. Interferes.
And I feel like I can't say no. I'm about to agree...