It was as if we were playing an old story. my father with a fan, carrying a bag on his shoulder, and the dog and I followed, entered the pedagogical school. My father was a shepherd, his coat was shaggy, his coat was patterned, Bob the dog was a gelding, a shaggy mutt, I was fourteen years old with red spikes. We were badly received. First, the manager's dog. began to bark with a little bark at my father's boots, then, subtly considering himself a match for our Bob, began to moan under his furrowed jaw. Bob looked at the dog, then at me, and I thought Bob smiled. Yes, he definitely smiled. And the dog bit Bob's leg and ran away in sorrow, as if he had not been bitten, but had been bitten. Bob took off after him, but Dad said,
"Well!" Bob looked at my father. "You can't," said my father.
Bob lay down and licked his leg. The dog came sneaking up and bit again. Bob gasped, but Dad said again.
"You can't, Bob."
OL angry Bob did not lick, let the blood go.
"Well, it would be hard for you here, brother," said Bobby, the old algebra teacher.
And the driver took hold of my father.
"Okay, you came on time."
My father was happy.
- Yes, he told me not to delay the child, leave the work, bring him.
- Well, you brought it on time.
- So what? Let the child become a man, the father of the work is cursed, the work is and is.
The driver measured me. He measured: that's a lot, I was not enough to be measured. looked for a second. I really wasn't a person, I was about to become a person.
- What can I say, you are late, classes have started, you are just coming.
"What?" my father didn't seem to hear.
"You're late, you're late," said the manager loudly.
"How are we late?"
- Like this. What time is it today?
- One on my account.
- There is one more in my account, live. Admissions ended on the twenty-eighth of the month. That's why you're late," explained the driver calmly taking my father's hand.
- If the child is excellent, how will it be?
Here already the leader adopted the face of a philosopher tired of explaining the world. They explain, explain, explain, but those who do not understand do not understand, and one has to refuse to explain and be content with irony.
- Did he get those excellent ones himself or did your manager appoint them?
"I got it, the manager appointed it," I said.
"Uh, he got it, Gerasim appointed it," said my father.
"Gerasim, meaning the driver?" asked the driver.
"The driver," said my father.
"That's your cousin, isn't it?" whispered the driver of the armchair.
- No, it's a little far, we are relatives.
- So, you say, Gerasim has appointed.
- He appointed.
"I received it, he appointed it," I said.
"Shh," my father pinched my back, a little below my back.
- For example, how about Armenian?
"That's what talking is, you see. Handwriting is also good."
"You say that the handwriting is good," the manager enlivened.
My father doubted.
"The important thing is the handwriting," the manager rolled his eyes.
"Not the handwriting, but the handwriting," I calmly corrected.
My father realized that the driver was making fun of us, he was sad.
"So we are late..." said my father, not having hope.
- No, why? Will you come next year?
"Next year, let others come, I came now," I said.
"You can't, Bab," said my father.
My father is there to scold Bob when some dog bites his leg, to scold Bab when some dog owner grabs his father.
"Well, now you tell me what to do," said my father, but the driver didn't listen, he covered his hat, he was going home.
My father looked around helplessly, there was Bob crying, next to me was quietly blinking my eyes, next to Bob was the teacher with smoke sticking to his mustache. The teacher winked at my father and said.
- Comrade Chaloyan, - called the teacher, - Varag... Comrade Chaloyan, - the teacher approached, - accept the chick.
The driver looked at us hesitantly. - They are late, Comrade Hakhumyan.
- It's a good chuto. They also have a dog. Do you remember the red dog guarding Varagavank? That we had gone together. That I took you with me...
He reminded that they gave their first kiss and made their first confession of love in the same dialect. He was simply reminding her of his birthplace and that they are compatriots, and he is asking.
- And can he learn...
Here we all said "it is possible" together, as if we were second graders.
- Good. The manuscript is good.
My father smiled humbly, perhaps he wanted to promise like a student that he would write a manuscript after that.
Then we went to buy shoes for me and came back to the school. My father entered the auditorium, looked at my seat, compared my shoes with other people's shoes, left the gate, gave the dog his hand and left. And I entered the classroom, algebra. Five minutes into the lesson, Bob slammed into the classroom door, then nervously licked the conductor's shunt. I raised my hand, explained, asked for permission and went out, while Bob was barking at the dog.
"Bob, go," I said.
He wagged his tail. I explained that he cannot stay there all year, until summer, without a sheep. He doubted. I wanted to explain again, from the beginning, clearly why he should not stay, the teacher came out of the classroom.
"Hovivyan, what happened?"
- Now, Comrade Hakhumyan, let me make this clear, I am coming.
- Understand, let's see.
I explained again. But he was wagging his tail. I had to remind him of his duty.
"Where is the witch, go?"
He went.
— well, algebra will be difficult for you.
- I was five in school.
"Really?"
"No," I said. "But I like literature." Geography too. I have five of them. Algebra was assigned. He was a good dog, wasn't he? There are four brothers, all four are alike. He was traveling through our mountain, I stole from him. They were small things, each one the size of a large potato. Then the owner came, he wanted to take away, we gave him a sheep and he left. The manager of the farm asked about the sheep, we took our own and did it, and my mother made a separate fight for it, we said the wolf ate it.
- Oh, Hovivyan, it will be difficult for you to live.
I don't know how to live, so it was difficult for me to learn algebra. For some time, Comrade Hakhumyan called and explained, starting with the most basic things, I understood them. Then we moved on to the multiplication of those basic things, it was almost like algebra, he would stop talking and smile. from that I understood that neither the combination nor the elementary things came close to my head. He did not scold, nor did I think to be ashamed. Then he refused to call me to the blackboard. Every time he stopped for a moment in front of my name and shook his head and said it was insufficient.
And in my mind were the mountains, the dogs, when the thunder bursts in the dark, and they fall mournfully after the wolf.
At the end of the third quarter, when the third unsatisfactory was assigned from algebra, the manager said with a smile.
- You say you got it, did he appoint it? It has become a principle for you, you get it, they appoint it. Go home. You stay in vain.
And Comrade Hakhumyan took it and, right next to him, made what was insufficient sufficient. And he looked at me for a long time over his glasses like a grandfather, like a father. But I didn't think to thank him like my grandson and son. In my mind were the mountains when the full moon rises to the music of my father's shwi, in semi-sleep their heads on their paws, the dogs listen to the silence, and my nine brothers are sleeping on a couch, all of them with their incisors in their big, half-open mouths.
In the fourth quarter, he was assigned satisfactory, but he was criticized, and he was assigned insufficient under the written transfer exam. Insufficient means when solving a mistake, and I didn't solve a mistake, I just copied the assignments cleanly and went to the mountains. The driver brought it back from there. Solve it, he said. in his opinion, life was tasks and their correct solution.
"My handwriting is good, isn't it?" I said and went to the mountains again. Gevorg, who was sitting next to me, took my paper, thought for a while, said it was easy, and solved it.
"This is not your handwriting," said the manager.
"What does it matter," I said, "the tasks have been answered, are there any unsolved problems?"
Comrade Hakhumyan completely agreed with me, but he did not appoint enough.
"You will dance in the summer," he said and it appeared that he was repeating someone else's words.
"It is impossible to solve a problem in the mountains," I said.
The driver wanted to laugh, but Hakhumyan said.
"It's true, my son, mountains don't like problems," and the leader waited.
- I don't know that, but you can't solve any problem in the mountains.
Varich decided in his mind that the teacher Hakhumyan has questionable sanity, and he said to me.
- You can't solve a problem in the mountains, you'll be left out... If beating hail doesn't matter to them, they don't think about it, I hope they won't reprimand you for staying out. You will become a herdsman.
I said goodbye and went to the mountains. I said at home that I have debts, that if I don't pay, I will be left out. As long as they looked with longing eyes, they did not understand. Then, when I got mixed up, I got lost among nine children, my mother pushed me.
- Idle!
And in the field, the shepherds gave form to the poses of the leader goat. He, in those days, found it convenient to grow his poses in the same way as those of his wild ancestors, giving a wide circle around the ear. The shepherds considered it unseemly, unworthy of the flock and themselves. Hot lavash was taken out of the oven, wrapped in poses, heated and straightened.
"What's your business? Let him grow as he wants," I said.
"It's not by his will," the shepherds corrected their poses.
They straightened them, planted them next to each other on the head.
Then they cut the meat.
"You might have put on a mustache," I said.
"Will he agree that..." the shepherds doubted.
And in the evening, when the flock was brought down, he would stand for a long time at the top of the hill, looking at the darkening and thoughtful distance. He pretended to think. In fact, he stood only for the rising full moon to sit in the poses. And the moon took all of them in the crown at first, only the poses were outside the crown, then the moon rose and rose and did not reach the end of the poses. And Neri took pity on the moon, jumped from the stone, and the moon immediately flew to the end of the pose.
"Come in and practice, how many children are asleep," said my mother.
— The moon rises in Neru poses.
- It will rise even without you, come in and practice.
"He can't go up without me."
Then, when the slow-minded moon was thinking of climbing above the end of the poser and showing that she was without a support, Neri tore the poser from her and took her scratched tail, under her tail.
"Come in and practice," said my mother.
- Wait, the moon turned red.
- You should blush, you have a debt.
- No one has taken care of me.
"Practice, Babik," said my mother, "I will beat you."
He would not make a beater. He was rather a weeper. she came crying from the suburbs to the mountains, with soft-looking urban boys in her mind, and she still couldn't come to terms with the existence of my father's fluffy, hairy face, sheep, milk, and dogs. My learning would make his eyes dry. But since I had a debt, he was waiting to see if I would take the apron over my eyes or if I would practice, let him leave the apron. And my mother cried. It was the other day. I was sitting down, trying to solve exercises, when Bob grabbed me on the opposite slope. Urth's forty hounds flared up. Then a small puff of smoke appeared and a shot was heard. The dogs went crazy! In the first half minute, the speedster appeared. His two brothers were walking from the sides, a little behind him. All three are black and long. The rest of the dogs, all white, followed the first. At the end there was a bunch of small puppies and our ten children, all red. I jumped on the farm manager's horse and got ahead of the puppies. We wanted to sit all ten, but we didn't make room, there wasn't that much room. Bob was after the wolf when we arrived, he gave up the chase and went back to the sheep. We measured the mountains until almost evening. Then we lost the wolf. We were confused, we didn't know what to do, said Bob again at the herd. Let's fly... This time we were led by his majesty Bob himself. He caught it, we drowned him. My father slaughtered the wounded sheep and gave it to the dogs. When we arrived, my mother was crying.
"Why are you crying?" I asked.
"Why don't you practice?"
"We drowned," I said.
- You are not a wolf, you also drown people, you and herd.
There was a peculiar white in her hair, but her face said that my mother would now turn completely white. And he was only thirty-seven years old. I understood that it is necessary to practice. But I lost the book. I didn't remember where I threw it during the fight.
"A boy was drowned by a wolf," my father said in the evening.
"I'm not a wolf, I drown people too."
"If you didn't go with the dogs, they weren't the catch," said my father. "They don't dare to catch." It's a pity that you spoiled the fur a lot, but why drown it so that the fur doesn't spoil too?
"I lost my book," I said. "There is no practice here." I am going tomorrow.
I told Hakhumyan that you can't practice in the mountains, but you definitely need to learn algebra, that my mother is thirty-seven years old, but she's turning white, if I study well, she won't turn white.
"How are the dogs?" he asked.
"Damn the dogs," I said, "you need to learn algebra." My mother is turning white.
"Yes, those mothers..." he sighed.
- Did you have a mother?
- Yes. I studied for him.
"And where is he now?"
- It is banished, in the cemetery.
— Is Van in Turkey?
- No, Hovivyan, no, Turkey is in Van.
- You studied for him, then...
— I studied for him, then he was killed, then I stayed for myself.
"Is it good for you?" I asked.
- You soon get tired of living.
"Are you getting tired?"
- Oh, Hovivyan, very soon, in a year.
"And the rest of the years?"
- If the remaining years were taken away, you wouldn't make a noise.
"That's bad," I said. "Would you practice with me?"
- It's bad, it's good, who knows. In both cases, you get tired. In one case, you run with the dogs after the wolves, that's how you get tired, very quickly, and in the other case, they drag you to peel potatoes in the kitchen, as if you have something to do, you have to do it, but what a job, was it worth being born for?
At first I seemed to understand our conversation, then it happened, as happens when learning arithmetic, I did not understand the cooperation of thoughts.
"Anyway," I returned to the beginning, "if my mother wants, I have to study." Then, how long will the manager laugh at me? It is necessary to learn and settle accounts with him...
- He is not a bad person, Hovivyan... Life needs him. If it wasn't for him, we would have died of starvation. After all, we are very lazy...
Then we practiced. he explained, I understood. We talked during the breaks, he from Van, I from the mountains. Like that for a month. I told you about them a hundred times. At the end of the month, when I was completely immersed in algebra, and he wanted to talk about giving again, I doubted his sanity.
I paid my debt with excellent credit. The driver was delighted. After that, always, in the meetings, I was an example of the reformed.
- Hovivyan Babikr is an example to you. the owner of terrible abilities and terrible laziness. We contrasted laziness with rigor, and that same Hovivian Babikr became excellent.
I adopted a meek expression. It seemed to me that in me, apart from that meek person, there is someone else, very aggressive, very hot, and has not yet forgotten the "manuscript". Then I felt that he won't wake up, maybe it didn't happen at all, and gentleness is the best thing in the world.
Soon, Hakhumyan was sent to retire. At first, I would go once in a while, he would tell about Van, I would tell about the mountains. He knew our mountains by word of mouth. He was already bored with forgiveness and wolves.
- Another, Hovivyan, another.
I had nothing else to tell. Algebra was another.
"Ah," he waved his hand. Then he said: "When your mother gets old and is alone for her, will you be a teacher or a shepherd? Get up and go to the mountains, let the dogs go after the wolf and run... run... run... so run...
He died, and I was kept as an algebra teacher at the school. I often thought of Bob. I asked those who came down from the mountain.
"How was Bob?"
"Bob?" they laughed. "Bob was good, he said send shoes for your brothers number thirty-three to forty-one, they want shoes!"
And Bob was getting smaller, he was getting into the shoes.