Ordinary the currant – all pretty yellow florets blossoms. Leaves – cuffs fringed are good only. And as will become covered by summer by black glossy berries – eyes not to tear off! Hang on branches hard balls, the sun from them as if from the polished drums jumps aside, and they, know to itself, ripen, by elastic sweet are poured. Where Smorodinka blossoms?

The smorodinka is unpretentious, is reconciled both with a shadow, and with the drought, and nevertheless loves the damp earth and the sun. Berries at such currant – splendidly: juicy, cool, elastic …

One such Smorodinka was known by me about thirty years ago. In maidens it was lean, round-shouldered, and knees sharp triangles stood out forward, as if a rostrum. Long hands hung inconsistently, the underdeveloped breast hid in a subsoil of an immense hoodie. A wrist and a foot were perhaps good. Narrow and accurate, they caused in me, spreading, envy. On the small ryabenky face eyes shone. Small, round, they were bluish-black. Not dark-brown, namely black. The views sent by them, were attracting. Now would tell, damp and intimate. However, judge …

Boys round it courted flights. Certainly, time was rather chaste, of any such liberties anybody and did not think. More truly to think thought, but without real actions. Simply it was necessary to Smorodinka to wave eyelashes, extremely long and dense, to flash eyes as boyish hands reached for her portfolio. And took home: ahead of Smorodink with a half-smile in the lowered eyelashes (and after all it turned out to smile one eyelashes!), slightly behind the lucky person with a portfolio, and behind it three four fellows, sad as portfolio to them did not get, but hopes next day not losing.

She studied worse than ever. Teachers despaired already to din into it something and simply molded three, transferring from a class to a class. When time reached examinations, someone by all means prompted to it, helped, and Smorodinka received the three, presented the savior not clear with a caressing look and victoriously was removed home. Little girls treated it watchfully-contemptuously. It fed for them equal and indulgent feelings, without meeting especially with one. Me, I think, she perceived as a certain neutral catalyst: it seems is, and it seems not.

Probably, I was a fertile background on which its mankost was shown in the most favorable light. On the infantilism of that time I did not realize it. But here that is surprising. Resistant hatred was fed by Smorodinka for any sciences – both exact, and humanitarian, and sometimes will read any unusual poem, Elyuara or Lorca, and the teacher only hands plant. Mother it in school called, so she only sighed, asked, that «you somehow show favor, the little girl without the father grows, so silent, but балбеска, does not want to study, let though school will finish». I remember, it somehow struck me with that greedily read Kipling. (Also found out somewhere! We only also knew "Maugli".)

– Here only listen, what charm! – she spoke with aspiration.

Gray eyes – a dawn,
Steamship siren,
Rain, separation, gray trace
Behind the screw of running foam.

Evil eyes – a heat,
In the sea of sleepy stars sliding
And at a board till the morning
Kisses reflection.

Dark blue eyes – the moon,
Waltz white silence,
Daily wall
Inevitable farewell.

Brown eyes – sand,
Autumn, wolf steppe, hunting,
Gallop, all on a hair
From falling and flight.

No, I am not a judge for them,
Simply without judgments foolish
I four times debtor
Dark blue, gray, brown, black.

As four parties
One same light,
I love – in that there is no fault –
These all four colors.

«Evil eyes – a heat. kisses reflection, – she with gusto repeated. – It about me, you understand? You understand?!» – it fingered me. I was silent, delighted both verses, and the participation in something with pleasure-sinfully when it is terrible to be soiled and … uncontrollably pulls it to make.

The destiny separated us for a long time. But about ten years ago I with a family was in a trip in Yugoslavia which then has been already divided into a parts. Tired very much jumps from mountain Kopaonik to seaside Dubrovnik, acquisition of souvenirs, a razglyadyvaniye of local beauty, we, at last, decided to give ourselves rest. My soulmate long ago похрапывала in number, and me it was not fallen down. I left to the sea.

Night Adriatic Sea lay before me as a huge sighing animal. This animal was not so terrible, and on his vzdyblenny wet skin the greenish strip of the moon lay. And here on the bank of this greenish, long, crude, sad, odorous dawn I saw it.

She sat at a little table in small open cafe half-turned to me. From former angularity did not remain also a trace. Tyazhelobedry, curly, pyshnogrudy woman. Having noticed that at it look, it squinted eyes on me. Smorodinka!

Certainly, she recognized me. Certainly, we threw the arms round each other a neck. And even during this instant I felt a spicy exciting smell. Began to smell her skin.

– You as here? From where? – I strewed questions. – Married? You work?

– I? – she grinned. – Perhaps, I work. Hey, two more coffee and nutlets, – she shouted to the waiter. – I treat! A cigaret I do not offer, you hardly smoke. – I negatively shook the head. – Well, here you see, means, guessed.

– In first marriage I am a widow, – it began, having tightened by a cigaret. – Him killed. Any dismantlings business. Left nothing, except debts and the son. Somehow got out, sold the apartment, the car, its gifts. Then the girlfriend arranged in beauty salon with the manicurist. Worked a little, well, it was heavy, certainly. Mother already died, the help any.

– And relatives of the husband? – I asked.

– Yes, well! – she waved a hand. – They from the very beginning of me disliked. And child too. Kopeks did not give. Then there was at me a client Croatian. Married it was for our, local. Generally, we made friends. And then to it somehow arrived to stay for a while her brother, Jovan. Well, saw me, fell in love, took away with the son here. Here and it appeared here. We lived with it six years, gave rise two sons.

– And then?

– Soup with a cat! – Smorodinka hoarsely burst out laughing. – Has an accident on the road between Kopaonik and Dubrovnik. Yes, on that on what you went. I for sure know these your tourist routes.

I remembered terribly tiresome 11-hour moving from the mountain resort to sea and gasped.

– He one took the helm?

– Yes, it was necessary to deliver products in cafe in time. It earned additionally there. A family it was necessary to feed somehow. I there was a waitress, and it brought products. Fell asleep at a wheel. Ran into a tree. Both the car, and products, and itself in a flat cake. Well, I cried at first, a wolf howled, and then, howl do not howl, and it is necessary to live, children to raise. Well, as the waitress continued to work, the cleaner too, any work undertook. Already the son the senior grew up, helps. When tourist season, easier. It works as the rescuer at a beach. In the winter it is more difficult, but anything. Survived. Well, differently happened …

– What? – I did not drive.

Smorodinka shot on me eyes.

– Oh, Lilka who was, such and remained. You have who – the son, the daughter?

– Daughter.

– How it on light appeared, remember? Or this process at all dropped out of your memory? I not about childbirth, and about earlier.

– What do you want to tell?

– Oh and do not take offense for God’s sake. I joked. Simply at you the person as at the grammar-school girl, only the bow in a plait does not suffice. I after all the woman, I cannot without it. Thank God, of attention it is not deprived.

I remembered the boyish bands which are seeing off Smorodinka to the house, her shabby brown portfolio serving as a precious trophy, her damp look. She sat now opposite to me, potyazhelevshy, krutobedry, curly, and the look exhaled it desire. It impregnated space of small cafe so the shchuplenky Croatian waiter did not take eyes from it burning. It seemed, waves of Adriatic Sea and those fight to the coast somehow invitingly. Smorodinka sighed, suppressing a pleasant yawn.

– Here so, Lilka. And the husband at you as, anything? Well, you understand?!

I did not manage to be indignant yet how she good-natured burst out laughing, covering the spoiled teeth:

– Be not afraid, I will not withdraw. I do not steal from the. Well, all right, go, and that your blessed now on all hotel will lift alarm. Wives near by are not present! Give, give, well and I will go.

It rose, stroking a skirt. Almost at the same time with it any gloomy bycheloby type in a far corner of cafe rose. Shchuplenky the waiter extinguished eyes and began to sweep away crumbs from the next little table.

– Smorodinka, well as so? – I uttered indistinctly. – And if, God forbid, you will fall ill or you will become pregnant from whom? Ah and, it is possible to be protected, – I remembered.

– Not – and! – she fervently stretched. – There will be nothing. On an even track the grass does not grow. And I do not love these elastic bands.

– Smorodinka! – I struck stretched, but that already left because of a table and went to an exit. Then suddenly sharply returned and asked:

– And you remember:

And her hips rushed about,
As caught trout,
That lunar cold ran cold,
That with white fire burned.

– I remember, certainly. Lorca.

– You remember! – she with satisfaction stretched. – Here for what I loved you, Lilka, you knew unlike, not that is necessary, and to what the soul lies much. And for me do not feel sorry. My life is pleasant to me. I manumission. While I live – I rejoice. Well, while. Tomorrow we will meet. She gave smacking kiss to me in a cheek, having doused a difficult smell of coffee, vanilla cigarets and still something spicy and fresh.

I fell asleep almost at once. It was come to the husband under a warm flank, thought that this happiness, and failed in a dream. He murmured something unintelligible and again fell asleep. Somewhere Adriatic Sea nearby lapped, and greenish light from the moon lay on our sheets.

For the next day us as if herd of guffawing geese, collected in the bus for excursion on the old city. It was our last day in Dubrovnik. Next day we moved to other resort. In 12 days of a tour it was necessary to learn and examine everything. Having tarried with things, I suddenly saw it. It stood on a cafe terrace. The sun shone it in a nape so over her head the curly light rose copper red. Near it there were children, three boys: sixteen, thirteen and ten years by sight.

– Well, happen! – she smiled. – Perhaps more also we will not meet already. The daughter kiss for me.

– Thanks! And you all the kindest, – I spoke sincerely and sincerely перецеловала all her children. They were unlike at each other. The senior was swarty, dark-haired and кареглаз, the average had ashy hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes. The most younger possessed copper red a head of hear and dark gray opaque eyes. They sedately let’s itself kiss and departed aside.

– Aha, noticed?! – she burst out laughing. – «As four parties of one same light, I love – in that there is no fault – these All four colors».

– And the fourth where? – I did not keep.

– How where? I! «Evil eyes – a heat». Same about me, – And it threw on me the unforgettable look. – Give, run. In the Old Hail do not forget to come into a monastery. Very beautiful, 12th centuries. If you will want, you can put a candle. Well, while.

We kissed each other, and I rushed off to the bus.

– It who? – the husband asked.

– So, one old acquaintance. Married here, her children. Casually yesterday met.

Here the bus moved, and we began to listen to the guide. That insistently advised to us to look at that to the right, on the left at the most ancient historical monuments.

The temple in the Old Hail was not so much beautiful, how many majestic. Stone dark layings, severe faces sacred, cool twilight inside. The young vicar wearing spectacles read something drawlingly. I asked it where it is possible to put candles. It long rubbed a forehead, spoke: «I do not understand I (do not understand)». Then, at last, comprehended, smiled and showed, where candles are on sale. I put three candles: for our family, for the daughter and for Smorodinka. It would be desirable for it happiness!

P.S. More we did not meet. The destiny of her children is unknown. Her called Sofia Albertovn Karidi, in a marriage Panich. We called her Smorodink …