Short Stories : The Greatest Journey of Our Life (Chapter 1)

 Short Stories : The Greatest Journey of Our Life (Chapter 1)

CHAPTER 1

Bad business

Eighteen-year-old Alexander had been on his feet all night, but business was bad. The last night was no exception, on the contrary, it was even worse than the nights before. Nobody showed up from his regular customers today. At around three o'clock someone came but didn't want to pay enough. So it happened that he didn't earn a single ruble that night either. It was too late now and he regretted rejecting the only customer that night. It got colder every day. A sign that winter would soon be arriving. But it was not just this cold that bothered him, but this human cold. For most people, it was the last muck, and for customers it was just a sex object to satisfy their sexual desires.

So he now ran aimlessly through the streets of Moscow. His legs ached and he was freezing. People ran carelessly past him. Most of the adults were on the way to work, the children on the way to school. They all had a goal, only he didn't. They all had a warm home, except for him and a few thousand others who had no luck in life.

When business was going better, he sometimes afforded the luxury of a room. He didn't have to be afraid that someone would chase him away. A small empire on its own for a few hours. A soft bed that he didn't need to share with a customer. It was warm and cozy than in the house entrances and backyards, where he otherwise had to sleep. But sometimes he was chased away from there too, by people who didn't care whether he froze to death or was hungry. But he wasn't the only one, there were more who had no home. Including thousands of street children. They were a common sight on Moscow streets. They usually fell asleep in old cellars and houses and when it was very cold in the sewers where they inhaled glue to forget their bleak lives for a short time. His stomach suddenly growled and reminded him that a meal was due. It had to be two days ago that he found some hamburgers somewhere at Mc Donalds in a trash can. When you were hungry and broke, you couldn't be picky.

Sicher hätte er noch weiter über seine verkorkste Situation nachgedacht, wenn nicht gerade in diesem Moment ein Streifenwagen um die Ecke gebogen wäre. Schnell drehte Alexander sich um und tat so als würde er sich für die Auslagen des Uhren- und Schmuckgeschäfts interessieren. Eins war sicher, wenn ihn die Polizisten erwischten, würden sie ihm noch seine letzten Kopeken abnehmen. Wenn man viel Pech hatte, konnte man durchaus für eine Nacht in einer der kalten Zellen landen. Das war aber längst nicht alles was die Beamten mit einem machen konnten, an den Rest wagte Alexander gar nicht erst zu denken. Nur, dass die Beamten dafür nichts bezahlen würden. Die Hände tief in den Hosentaschen vergraben und zitternd am ganzen Körper stand er nun da. Dabei konnte er die wenigen Münzen fühlen, die er noch besaß. Für ein Essen wurde es nicht mehr reichen, das war sicher! Vorsichtig schaute er nach links, der Wagen war verschwunden. Dann wandte er seinen Blick nochmals auf die Auslagen des Geschäfts. Es war einer dieser Edelläden wo die Reichen einkauften. Sicher würde er niemals eine solche Uhr besitzen, soviel wusste er schon jetzt. Als er wieder hoch sah, spiegelte sich sein Gesicht im Glas der Scheibe. War er das wirklich? Es kamen ihm ernsthafte Zweifel. Die halb geöffneten Augen, dieses Jemand starrten ihn müde und traurig an. Die Haut wirkte trotz der rötlichen Wangen blass, aber das war auch kein Wunder, die ganze Nacht auf Achse gewesen war.

In diesem Moment tippte ihm von hinten jemand auf die Schulter. Alexander zuckte zusammen und drehte sich hastig um, in der Angst, die Polizisten wären zurück gekommen. Doch innerhalb weniger Sekunden wich die Angst dem Ekel. Was da vor ihm stand war kein Polizist, sondern einer jener Menschen, die Tag und Nacht damit beschäftigt waren, sich mit Wodka abzufüllen und in deren Wortschatz die Wörter Körperpflege und waschen nicht vorkamen. Sein fettiges Haar hing in Strähnen die Stirn herunter. Seine dicke Wampe, verborgen unter einem langen, abgetragenen und schmutzigen Mantel.

>> You are a pretty boy. What are you asking for, boy? << he asked arrogantly. Alexander waving a vodka flag. He already knew this smell from many of his customers. His stomach growled and he was cold, so he had no choice. He would have to overcome himself, like so many times before, in which he had been broke. While Alexander was thinking about what to ask, the man was already making the award. >> I'll pay you nine hundred rubles <<. (about nine euros)

That was little money, damn little! The stranger eyed him, waiting and with a glassy look. Alexander nodded! The man took a vodka bottle from his filthy coat and took a sip, then handed it to Alexander. The latter just shook his head. "No thanks, I don't want anything!" He replied softly.

"It's good vodka, but if the boy doesn't want to drink there's more left for me!" He said with a laugh and let the bottle disappear into his pocket. > Let's go to me now, it's nice and warm. Then we make love. What is your name Bübchen? <<

>> Alexander! <<

>> Well, I'm Igor! << With these words the stranger went ahead and Alexander followed. Every now and then he paused and took a sip, then it went on.

After thirty minutes' walk they had arrived at what he called Igor's home. It was a dilapidated old building on the outskirts of the city. The building had certainly seen better days. A few panes were broken here and there. There was not much left of the originally wise color. Wobbling, Igor pulled out a keychain. The many sips of vodka had left their mark. Now the key search began. "Should I catch up?" Offered Alexander.

The man made a dismissive gesture. >> Let Bübchen, I'll do it! <<, he said briskly.

It annoyed him that he always called him Bübchen. But he was the customer, and if he mocked something now he might lose the hundred rubles. So he preferred to leave it. The right key was finally found and they were standing in the stairwell. A musty smell ran through his nose. It was just as cold here as outside. Which was thanks to the broken windows. Igor slowly climbed the stairs. Unfortunately, he lived on the top floor and it took a good three minutes until they finally reached the door to his apartment. The same procedure started again, the key search! After another two minutes, they entered a small, narrow hallway. It was significantly warmer here, but smelled just as musty as in the stairwell. Igor led him into a small room. Apparently this was the only room. On one side a bed with totally dirty bed sheets. Next to it was a cupboard where a door was missing. A small table with a plate cooker and dirty pots on it. The food had already dried out in one of the pots. There was also a sofa, but no cleaner than the rest. Igor took off his coat and smiled. >> Boy, now we make love! << With these words he opened his pants. Alexander knew what was coming. He leaned down and closed his eyes in disgust!

Half an hour later and nine hundred rubles richer, he was back on the street. The man had offered him something to eat, but he declined with thanks. With the dirt, he wouldn't have brought a bite anyway. But again he was reminded of his growling stomach. There was a supermarket in Prokatnaja Street, so he could get a little something. The market was busy. Housewives and pensioners who made their purchases. Alexander already knew the shop and knew where everything could be found. He purposefully headed for one of the shelves and grabbed a can of sausage and a pack of bread slices. Then he patiently queued at the cash register. In front of him a housewife with a whining toddler who wanted one of the surprise eggs that were set up in front of the cash register. The mother did not want to buy him, however, now the child started to cry. The woman had a hard time with her offspring, and he couldn't help grinning. But from one second to the next, the grin gave way to a more thoughtful expression. He suddenly had to think about his own childhood again. This was far less fun. No, she wasn't funny at all, just sad. There was often nothing to eat because his parents preferred to drown the money. Once he received a thousand rubles from his grandmother, who was still alive at the time. When Grandma was gone, his father just took the money from him and hit him in the face. Sometimes when he drank too much again, he would come with the leather belt and beat him so that he could not sit for a week. Would he come back into the room now? Always this fear, every day, every hour, every minute!

>> Hey Alexander, not seen for a while! <<

He turned around in surprise. It was Andrej, he was the same age and had the same job as him. Every now and then they saw each other. His buddy worked in another district. "How's it going?" Asked Andrej, pulling his blue cap on.

Alexander shrugged. >> Business is going badly! <<

>> It doesn't look any better for me, only had two customers yesterday! <<

He pointed to his pocket and smiled. Alexander knew what that meant. Andrej had let something go again. Unlike him, he was a completely different type. At some point, when he was thirteen, he had left home and struggled through the street offering his body. Stole what was not rivet and nail-proof. Often got caught and sniffed glue. Was cheeky and put up with nothing. Not even from his customers.

>> Hm, then you have ham sausage and bread to eat today? <<

>> I have hardly any coal. But who cares! << said Alexander thoughtfully. Only now did he notice that Andrej was holding a bottle of vodka. Then he would definitely get drunk in a lonely place, as he often did.

>> I'll make a suggestion, give me some of your food and I'll share the vodka with you. <<

Since he didn't know how to get the day off around, he agreed. Finally it was their turn. The cashier gave them a dismissive look. Andrej also noticed this and it was known that he didn't put up with anything. "Is there something wrong, Grandma?" He said cheekily. The cashier quickly focused on her work again and pulled the can over the scanner. Alexander had to grin, the guy had courage, you had to give him that. He wouldn't dare to do that in a hundred years. He quickly paid and waited for his buddy in front of the store. This was not long in coming. "Look what I let go!", He said proudly and took out a small can of caviar.

>> Do you still want to eat them today? << asked Alexander curiously.

Andrej shook his head. "Nah, too bad. It will be sold, that will bring a few rubles. <<

>> Ah, understand, for more vodka. <<

"You got it!" Laughed Andrej and patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. Then he continued. >> I know an old house on the outskirts, we can empty the bottle! <<

So the two made their way to the outskirts. A good hour's walk was announced. At noon they finally reached the old house. Alexander's feet hurt more and more. Today he had run well and liked to walk about ten kilometers, and a rest would now do him good.

>> Already the second, old box where I see today <<, he heard himself say. Andrej looked around surreptitiously to see if nobody was walking down the street. Then he climbed over the small wooden fence. Alexander followed. In order not to be seen, they immediately ran behind the building. One of the windows was open. They quickly got in. The room was almost empty. Stone tiles and an old stove on the walls, which could be fired with wood and coal. Her every step echoed across the room. "It used to be the kitchen," said Alexander.

Andrej tapped him on the shoulder. >> Come on, let's go to the other room, but first close the window, nobody needs to know that we're here. <<

Alexander carefully closed the window and followed Andrej. There was hardly anything in the other room. Only three old armchairs adorned the room. "We can make ourselves comfortable there," said his buddy. Said and done. Both took a seat on one of the armchairs and he opened the sausage can. A small spoon, fork, and pocket knife were stowed in the back pockets of his jeans. Some things were difficult to eat with your hands. Most of those who lived on the street like him had something with them. Now Alexander took out the knife and pulled out the blade, divided the meat in half and handed half to Andrej. The rain pattered on the window from outside.

>> It starts to piss, and we are now sitting in the dry, << said his buddy cheerfully and took a sip from the vodka bottle.

The food thing didn't seem to matter to him anymore. Vodka was now given priority, he carelessly put the sausage on a piece of newspaper. Alexander wanted to eat first, then drink something.

>> When I spoke to you in the supermarket today, you made a thoughtful impression.? <<

Alexander nodded and put the can aside. >> Yes, I had to think about earlier. How my age always beat me up when it was tight. You always had to be afraid. I was still small at the time, but that didn't bother him often to beat me up. <<

>> I see, it wasn't funny for me in the home either, but you know that! << He continued. >> At some point when I was eleven, I just didn't go home. Once the police caught me and took me home. My father then said I didn't need to come anymore. I did him the favor. <<

Andrei handed him the bottle. >> Take something that will make you forget, if only for a short time! <<

The rain outside was getting heavier and more clouds were gathering in the sky. You could have used a light inside. It flashed while Alexander was about to take a sip from the bottle. He winced.

"You don't have to be afraid, we're safe in here," his buddy reassured him.

>> I was just scared briefly, came so unannounced. <<

There was a loud thunder and the rain could be heard slapping the floor. Alexander showed in front at night. >> Look! <<

Water dripped onto the floor above the door. First slowly, then more violently.

"The roof seems to be leaking," joked Andrej. >> I'll have to call the roofers tomorrow. << Both laughed.

Andrey looked at the bottle. "If we go on like this, the bottle will be empty in an hour." He pulled out his harmonica and played a piece. Alexander didn't know it, but it was nice. So the two sat there, drinking the vodka and listening to the music. After an hour the bottle was empty, both drunk and asleep.

Continue Reading to The Greatest Journey of Our Life (Chapter 2)