Narine Abgaryan. Manyunya, Ba's anniversary and other worries. Manyunya, ba’s anniversary and other worries Manyunya - Master of Science, or How a banal shot can save you from punishment

Genre: Children's literature

Year: year 2012

Narine Abgaryan. Manyunya, Ba’s anniversary and other worries

Manyunya - 3

Characters

Schatz family:

BA. In other words - Rosa Iosifovna Shats. Here I put an end to it and tremble.

Uncle Misha. Son Ba and at the same time Manyunin’s dad. Lonely and unyielding. A womanizer with a fine mental organization. Again, monogamous. Knows how to combine incompatible things. True friend.

Manyunya. Granddaughter of Ba and Uncle's daughter. A natural disaster with a combat forelock on its head. Resourceful, funny, kind. If he falls in love, then to death. Until he comes to terms with the light, he will not calm down.

Vasya. Sometimes Vasidis. In essence, it is an all-terrain GAZ-69. The exterior looks like a chicken coop on wheels. Stubborn, willful. House builder. He frankly considers women to be a rudimentary phenomenon of anthropogenesis. Disdainfully ignores the fact of their existence.

Abgaryan family:

Papa Yura. The underground nickname is “My son-in-law is gold.” Mom's husband, father of four different-sized daughters. Sole of company. The character is explosive. Devoted family man. True friend.

Mom Nadya. Trembling and loving. Runs well. He knows how to extinguish an emerging conflict in the bud with a well-aimed slap on the head. Constantly improving.

Narine. It's me. Thin, tall, big-nosed. But the foot size is large. A poet's dream (modestly).

Karinka. Responds to the names Genghis Khan, Armageddon, Apocalypse Now. Father Yura and mother Nadya still have not figured out for what monstrous sins they got such a child.

Gayane. Lover of anything that can be shoved up your nostrils, as well as crossbody bags. A naive, very kind and sympathetic child. Prefers to distort words. Even at the age of six he says “alapolt”, “lasiped” and “shamashy”.

Sonechka. Everyone's favorite. An incredibly stubborn child. Don’t feed me bread, let me become stubborn. For food, he prefers boiled sausage and green onions; he can’t stand red inflatable mattresses.

Henrietta. Actually, “a penny.” But in terms of spiritual qualities - a golden royal chervonets at a minimum. She's all about herself and won't say a word against her. Through the efforts of both dads, he constantly gets into trouble. Either he drives into a herd of cows, or he does a somersault in a ditch. And all this - without a single reproach. Not a car, but a forgiving angel on wheels.

Chapter 1

Manyunya - Master of Science, or How a banal shot can save you from punishment

- Bah? How did Darwin die?

Ba grabbed her heart. She sat up abruptly and fumbled for her glasses. Drowsily, she put them on upside down and mumbled something unintelligible in response.

- Chivoy? - Manka put her palm to her ear and leaned forward.

- What time is it now?

“Six o’clock in the morning,” Manka reported loudly, pulled out a book from under her arm, opened it to a page and stared demandingly at her grandmother.

Ba opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at her watch.

- Maria, are you crazy? It's the day off, why did you wake up so early?

Manya sniffled resentfully:

“I would say that you don’t know how Darwin died.” Why are you talking about a day off right away?

Ba sighed, put on her glasses correctly, took the book from Manka and stared at the illustration. A fat, warty toad looked at her from the page.

- What is it?

- This is a poisonous toad. But I didn’t want to talk about her. There’s just no picture here about this story. It says that a wasp stung a spider. And the spider parari... - Manka gurgled on the “r”, winced in annoyance, cleared her throat and began to attack the complex word again: “Palalized!”

— Paralyzed?

- This is it! And he lay there, you know, completely dead.

Under a bush. But he was breathing!

- Ha-ha-ha!

- Why are you laughing? There's nothing funny here! On the contrary, everything is terribly terrible! And when this wasp wanted to drag the spider into its nest to feed the babies, Darwin caught it.

- Lie down next to me. “Ba moved to the side, pulled back the edge of the blanket, and patted the sheet with her hand.

- I won’t lie next to you! You will start squeezing me again, but I want to talk!

“I promise I won’t squeeze you.”

- Swear!

- I swear! - Ba spread her fingers. “You see, I don’t even cross my fingers.”

Manyunya stared at her grandmother with a searching gaze for a minute, then nodded, climbed under the blanket and continued in a loud whisper:

- And what am I thinking now? Maybe when Darwin brought this wasp to his... well, where he lived there, to his home...

- Well, yes, to the house.

- I brought it home, not to my home!!!

- Bah, what are you doing! Brought this wasp home! So, she lived in a cage for some time, and then Darwin accidentally stuck his finger in there, well, he wanted to dig deeper, and she stung him? And he died?

— Is the Pallied One dead? “Ba, unable to bear Mana’s tragic gaze, buried her face in the pillow and burst into her trademark laughter, periodically sobbing and wailing: “Oh, I can’t do it anymore!” Manka irritably pulled the book out of her grandmother’s hands, crawled out of bed, and put on her slippers.

Narine Abgaryan

Manyunya, Ba’s anniversary and other worries

Characters

Schatz family:

BA. In other words - Rosa Iosifovna Shats. Here I put an end to it and tremble.

Uncle Misha. Son Ba and at the same time Manyunin’s dad. Lonely and unyielding. A womanizer with a fine mental organization. Again, monogamous. Knows how to combine incompatible things. True friend.

Manyunya. Granddaughter of Ba and Uncle's daughter. A natural disaster with a combat forelock on its head. Resourceful, funny, kind. If he falls in love, then to death. Until he comes to terms with the light, he will not calm down.

Vasya. Sometimes Vasidis. In essence, it is an all-terrain GAZ-69. The exterior looks like a chicken coop on wheels. Stubborn, willful. House builder. He frankly considers women to be a rudimentary phenomenon of anthropogenesis. Disdainfully ignores the fact of their existence.

Abgaryan family:

Papa Yura. The underground nickname is “My son-in-law is gold.” Mom's husband, father of four different-sized daughters. Sole of company. The character is explosive. Devoted family man. True friend.

Mom Nadya. Trembling and loving. Runs well. He knows how to extinguish an emerging conflict in the bud with a well-aimed slap on the head. Constantly improving.

Narine. It's me. Thin, tall, big-nosed. But the foot size is large. A poet's dream (modestly).

Karinka. Responds to the names Genghis Khan, Armageddon, Apocalypse Now. Father Yura and mother Nadya still have not figured out for what monstrous sins they got such a child.

Gayane. Lover of anything that can be shoved up your nostrils, as well as crossbody bags. A naive, very kind and sympathetic child. Prefers to distort words. Even at the age of six he says “alapolt”, “lasiped” and “shamashy”.

Sonechka. Everyone's favorite. An incredibly stubborn child. Don’t feed me bread, let me become stubborn. For food, he prefers boiled sausage and green onions; he can’t stand red inflatable mattresses.

Henrietta. Actually, “a penny.” But in terms of spiritual qualities - a golden royal chervonets at least. She's all about herself and won't say a word against her. Through the efforts of both dads, he constantly gets into trouble. Either he drives into a herd of cows, or he does a somersault in a ditch. And all this - without a single reproach. Not a car, but a forgiving angel on wheels.

Manyunya - Master of Science, or How a banal shot can save you from punishment

- Bah? How did Darwin die?

Ba grabbed her heart. She sat up abruptly and fumbled for her glasses. Drowsily, she put them on upside down and mumbled something unintelligible in response.

- Chivoy? – Manka put her palm to her ear and leaned forward.

- What time is it now?

“It’s six o’clock in the morning,” Manka reported loudly, pulled out a book from under her arm, opened it to a page and stared demandingly at her grandmother.

Ba opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at her watch.

– Maria, are you crazy? It's the day off, why did you wake up so early?

Manya sniffled resentfully:

– I would say that you don’t know how Darwin died. Why are you talking about a day off right away?

Ba sighed, put on her glasses correctly, took the book from Manka and stared at the illustration. A fat, warty toad looked at her from the page.

- What is it?

- This is a poisonous toad. But I didn’t want to talk about her. There’s just no picture here about this story. It says that a wasp stung a spider. And the spider parari... - Manka gurgled on the “r”, winced in annoyance, cleared her throat and again began to attack the complex word: “Palalized!”

- Paralyzed?

- This is it! And he lay there, you know, completely dead. Under a bush. But he was breathing!

- Ha-ha-ha!

- Why are you laughing? There's nothing funny here! On the contrary, everything is terribly terrible! And when this wasp wanted to drag the spider into its nest to feed the babies, Darwin caught it.

- Lie down next to me. “Ba moved to the side, pulled back the edge of the blanket, and patted the sheet with her hand.

- I won’t lie down next to you! You will start squeezing me again, but I want to talk!

“I promise I won’t squeeze you.”

- Swear!

- I swear! – Ba spread her fingers. “You see, I don’t even cross my fingers.”

Manyunya stared at her grandmother with a searching gaze for a minute, then nodded, climbed under the blanket and continued in a loud whisper:

- And what am I thinking now? Maybe when Darwin brought this wasp to his... well, where he lived there, to his home...

- Well, yes, to the house.

– I brought it home, not to my home!!!

- Bah, what are you doing! Brought this wasp home! So, she lived in a cage for some time, and then Darwin accidentally stuck his finger in there, well, he wanted to dig deeper, and she stung him? And he died?

– Is the Pallied One dead? – Ba, unable to bear Mana’s tragic gaze, buried her face in the pillow and burst into her trademark laughter, periodically sobbing and wailing: “Oh, I can’t do it anymore!” Manka irritably pulled the book out of her grandmother’s hands, crawled out of bed, and put on her slippers.

- You're just like dad! You also tell him something scientific, and he immediately starts laughing. And saying, “Oh, I can’t,” she mimicked. - I won’t tell you anything more! I’d rather tell Narka. She may not even know why Darwin died, but at least she doesn’t laugh back!

- What does she do if she doesn’t laugh? - Ba squealed between two bouts of laughter.

– He sits next to him and looks silently. It's clear? So, I went to my place! And you continue to laugh alone! - Manka sniffled, pulled her pajama pants high over her chest, turned over her shoulder and, frantically taking a step, moved out of the room.

- Oh oh! A sailor's chest, a turkey's butt! - Ba shouted after her.

- Neither oh nor oh! Not the chest, not the sailor, not the butt, not the turkey! – Manka did not remain in debt.

Ba wiped away the tears that had come out with the sleeve of her nightie and lay there for a while, coming to her senses. She stood up and pulled her curly hair into a short ponytail. She went to the window and opened the window. The room was instantly filled with a cold February morning - the pungent smell of melted snow and wet, swollen earth, the frozen dawn timidly gilded the shoulder of the distant hill, the late morning roosters were crowing grumpily.

“It will be a good day,” Ba decided.

She changed her clothes, tidied up the bed, and covered the bed with a heavy quilted blanket. She stacked the books on the nightstand and adjusted the lacy napkin on the dressing table. She looked around the room with satisfaction - it was clean! She quietly closed the door behind her and went to negotiate with her granddaughter.

Manka's room was located between the rooms of Ba and Uncle Misha. Uncle's bedroom is located at the very end of the corridor. It closed with a large glass loggia, where Uncle Misha kept all his engineering gadgets. Several wires, metal parts and plugs lay in a cardboard box under the table. Every time she cleaned, she swore strongly and took the box out onto the loggia, but after a day or two it magically ended up in the room again. It’s just that Uncle Misha periodically made some discoveries, enthusiastically drew diagrams and assembled strange structures that looked like the spare parts of the Druzhba chainsaw crumpled after a small explosion, so the rescue box had to be constantly at hand. You never know, maybe inspiration strikes you at three o’clock in the morning, don’t go to the frosty balcony to get the wires! After all, easy access to spare parts is the key to the greatest scientific discoveries!

Therefore, in order to save the nerves of herself and those around her, Ba gave her son a back room. This way you can be less irritated by the endless industrial rubbish, without which your son cannot imagine his life, and not distract him from all sorts of important discoveries. Uncle Misha valued Ba’s dedication very much; at home he tried to restrain himself from crazy design impulses, and tested the operation of newly-made devices in the backyard of his native relay factory. I was very upset that there was no armored room for experiments at the enterprise.

But sometimes he was overcome by uncontrollable creative ecstasy, at such moments Uncle Misha forgot about everything in the world and tested the effect of his devices at home. Twice it turned out to be pure nonsense - knocked out plugs, once there was a small fire, which our restless inventor put out with his own new woolen trousers, and once the structure, plugged into the socket, emitted such a soul-chilling otherworldly howl that all the living creatures for many hundreds of meters around twisted in horror.

Manina's room was the largest and brightest. To the right was a wide dark wood bed, with a desk at the head of the bed. There was a large beige carpet with a chocolate and dark green pattern hanging on the wall, and an old chair was located in the corner of the room. To the left of the front door there was a closet where not only clothes were stored, but periodically, when we wanted to cast a mysterious fog over our already eventful life, we were stored. We kept it in the closet in order to figure out whether it was possible to recognize a friend’s grimace in the dark or to show on the fly, without humiliating palpating, where someone’s leg was, and where, on the contrary, an ear was.

Narine Abgaryan

Manyunya, Ba’s anniversary and other worries

Characters

Schatz family:

BA. In other words - Rosa Iosifovna Shats. Here I put an end to it and tremble.

Uncle Misha. Son Ba and at the same time Manyunin’s dad. Lonely and unyielding. A womanizer with a fine mental organization. Again, monogamous. Knows how to combine incompatible things. True friend.

Manyunya. Granddaughter of Ba and Uncle's daughter. A natural disaster with a combat forelock on its head. Resourceful, funny, kind. If he falls in love, then to death. Until he comes to terms with the light, he will not calm down.

Vasya. Sometimes Vasidis. In essence, it is an all-terrain GAZ-69. The exterior looks like a chicken coop on wheels. Stubborn, willful. House builder. He frankly considers women to be a rudimentary phenomenon of anthropogenesis. Disdainfully ignores the fact of their existence.

Abgaryan family:

Papa Yura. The underground nickname is “My son-in-law is gold.” Mom's husband, father of four different-sized daughters. Sole of company. The character is explosive. Devoted family man. True friend.

Mom Nadya. Trembling and loving. Runs well. He knows how to extinguish an emerging conflict in the bud with a well-aimed slap on the head. Constantly improving.

Narine. It's me. Thin, tall, big-nosed. But the foot size is large. A poet's dream (modestly).

Karinka. Responds to the names Genghis Khan, Armageddon, Apocalypse Now. Father Yura and mother Nadya still have not figured out for what monstrous sins they got such a child.

Gayane. Lover of anything that can be shoved up your nostrils, as well as crossbody bags. A naive, very kind and sympathetic child. Prefers to distort words. Even at the age of six he says “alapolt”, “lasiped” and “shamashy”.

Sonechka. Everyone's favorite. An incredibly stubborn child. Don’t feed me bread, let me become stubborn. For food, he prefers boiled sausage and green onions; he can’t stand red inflatable mattresses.

Henrietta. Actually, “a penny.” But in terms of spiritual qualities - a golden royal chervonets at a minimum. She's all about herself and won't say a word against her. Through the efforts of both dads, he constantly gets into trouble. Either he drives into a herd of cows, or he does a somersault in a ditch. And all this - without a single reproach. Not a car, but a forgiving angel on wheels.

Manyunya - Master of Science, or How a banal shot can save you from punishment

Bah? How did Darwin die?

Ba grabbed her heart. She sat up abruptly and fumbled for her glasses. Drowsily, she put them on upside down and mumbled something unintelligible in response.

Chivoy? - Manka put her palm to her ear and leaned forward.

What time is it now?

“Six o’clock in the morning,” Manka reported loudly, pulled out a book from under her arm, opened it to a page and stared demandingly at her grandmother.

Ba opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at her watch.

Maria, are you crazy? It's the day off, why did you wake up so early?

Manya sniffled resentfully:

I would say that you don’t know how Darwin died. Why are you talking about a day off right away?

Ba sighed, put on her glasses correctly, took the book from Manka and stared at the illustration. A fat, warty toad looked at her from the page.

What is it?

This is a poisonous toad. But I didn’t want to talk about her. There’s just no picture here about this story. It says that a wasp stung a spider. And the spider parari... - Manka gurgled on the “r”, winced in annoyance, cleared her throat and began to attack the complex word again: - Palalized!

Paralyzed?

This is it! And he lay there, you know, completely dead. Under a bush. But he was breathing!

Ha ha ha!

Why are you laughing? There's nothing funny here! On the contrary, everything is terribly terrible! And when this wasp wanted to drag the spider into its nest to feed the babies, Darwin caught it.

Lie down next to me. - Ba moved to the side, pulled back the edge of the blanket, and patted the sheet with her hand.

I won't lie next to you! You will start squeezing me again, but I want to talk!

I promise I won't squeeze you.

Swear it!

I swear! - Ba spread her fingers. - You see, I don't even cross my fingers.

Manyunya stared at her grandmother with a searching gaze for a minute, then nodded, climbed under the blanket and continued in a loud whisper:

And what am I thinking now? Maybe when Darwin brought this wasp to his... well, where he lived there, to his home...

Well, yes, to home.

Brought home, not to home!!!

Bah, what are you doing! Brought this wasp home! So, she lived in a cage for some time, and then Darwin accidentally stuck his finger in there, well, he wanted to dig deeper, and she stung him? And he died?

Palalised died? - Ba, unable to bear Mana’s gaze filled with tragedy, buried her face in the pillow and burst into her signature laughter, periodically sobbing and wailing: “Oh, I can’t do it anymore!” Manka irritably pulled the book out of her grandmother’s hands, crawled out of bed, and put on her slippers.

You're just like dad! You also tell him something scientific, and he immediately starts laughing. And saying “oh, I can’t,” she mimicked. - I won’t tell you anything more! I’d rather tell Narka. She may not even know why Darwin died, but at least she doesn’t laugh back!

What does she do if she doesn't laugh? - Ba squealed between two bouts of laughter.

He sits nearby and silently watches. It's clear? So, I went to my place! And you continue to laugh alone! - Manka sniffled, pulled her pajama pants high over her chest, turned over her shoulder and, frantically taking a step, moved out of the room.

Oh oh! A sailor's chest, a turkey's butt! - Ba shouted after her.

Neither oh nor oh! Not the chest, not the sailor, not the butt, not the turkey! - Manka did not remain in debt.

Ba wiped away the tears that had come out with the sleeve of her nightie and lay there for a while, coming to her senses. She stood up and pulled her curly hair into a short ponytail. She went to the window and opened the window. The room was instantly filled with a cold February morning - the pungent smell of melted snow and wet, swollen earth, the frozen dawn timidly gilded the shoulder of a distant hill, and the late morning roosters were crowing grumpily.

It will be a good day, Ba decided.

She changed her clothes, tidied up the bed, and covered the bed with a heavy quilted blanket. She stacked the books on the nightstand and adjusted the lacy napkin on the dressing table. I looked around the room with satisfaction - it was clean! She quietly closed the door behind her and went to negotiate with her granddaughter.

Manka's room was located between the rooms of Ba and Uncle Misha. Uncle's bedroom is located at the very end of the corridor. It closed with a large glass loggia, where Uncle Misha kept all his engineering gadgets. Several wires, metal parts and plugs lay in a cardboard box under the table. Every time she cleaned, she swore strongly and took the box out onto the loggia, but after a day or two it magically ended up in the room again. It’s just that Uncle Misha periodically made some discoveries, enthusiastically drew diagrams and assembled strange structures that looked like the spare parts of the Druzhba chainsaw crumpled after a small explosion, so the rescue box had to be constantly at hand. You never know, maybe inspiration strikes you at three o’clock in the morning, don’t go to the frosty balcony to get the wires! After all, easy access to spare parts is the key to the greatest scientific discoveries!

Therefore, in order to save the nerves of herself and those around her, Ba gave her son a back room. This way you can be less irritated by the endless industrial rubbish, without which your son cannot imagine his life, and not distract him from all sorts of important discoveries. Uncle Misha valued Ba’s dedication very much; at home he tried to restrain himself from crazy design impulses, and tested the operation of newly-made devices in the backyard of his native relay factory. I was very upset that there was no armored room for experiments at the enterprise.

But sometimes he was overcome by uncontrollable creative ecstasy, at such moments Uncle Misha forgot about everything in the world and tested the effect of his devices at home. Twice it turned out to be pure nonsense - knocked out plugs, once there was a small fire, which our restless inventor put out with his own new woolen trousers, and once the structure, plugged into the socket, emitted such a soul-chilling otherworldly howl that all living creatures for many hundreds of meters around twisted in horror.

Manina's room was the largest and brightest. To the right stood a wide dark wood bed, with a desk at the head of the bed. There was a large beige carpet with a chocolate and dark green pattern hanging on the wall, and an old chair was located in the corner of the room. To the left of the front door there was a closet where not only clothes were stored, but periodically, when we wanted to cast a mysterious fog over our already eventful life, we were stored. We kept it in the closet in order to figure out whether it was possible to recognize a friend’s grimace in the dark or to show on the fly, without humiliating palpating, where someone’s leg was, and where, on the contrary, an ear was.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, we did not live in the closet for long, about fifteen to twenty minutes, and all because we absolutely did not know how to exist peacefully in cramped conditions, and without being offended. Therefore, more often than not, gatherings in the dark ended with us falling noisily onto the floor and causing a crushing fight, helping ourselves with hangers and other improvised means. In response to our cries, Ba flew in, and for the next half hour, sniffling gloomily and our itchy, upturned ears shining into space, we put Manya’s wardrobe in order. Labor not only ennobles, but also brings us closer together, so as the cleaning progressed, we made peace again, and by the end we were ready for new, no less exciting adventures.

During the day, Manka was rarely at her place and even tried to do her homework at the kitchen table - she felt more comfortable there, and Ba was constantly hanging around and could help in solving a difficult problem. In the room, my friend preferred to sleep and sulk. And if for some reason she wanted to express her “fi” to the world, she would attach a small poster with magnets to the metal frame on the door with the inscription “No Entry” and lock herself in the room. This morning clearly deserved another Manina protest escapade, so when Ba went to talk to her granddaughter, she came across a locked door and a poster with a stern warning.

And what? - Ba asked at the door. - Am I completely prohibited from entering here?

At all! - Manka instantly responded through the keyhole.

What if I apologize?

It's too late to apologize! It was necessary right away!

What if I make pancakes?

Doesn't matter! - Manka did not flinch.

Not simple pancakes, but yeast pancakes! Fluffy and rosy!

There was an angry fuss behind the door. Ba chuckled victoriously and put her hands on her hips.

Okay, I'll go knead the dough, while you think about it.

Mom, why don’t you let me sleep? - Uncle Misha shouted from his room.

Yes, your daughter is acting weird.

And I am not a stranger to anything! - Manka instantly snapped.

Okay, I'm off. When you get tired of sulking, go downstairs. I'll tell you what Darwin died from.

Do you know exactly what he died from?

I know for sure!

Tell? - Mankin’s curious eye scanned the space through the keyhole.

Ba leaned over and caught her granddaughter’s furtive glance a second before she recoiled from the door.

I won't tell you. When you get out, I’ll tell you then.

I really need it! - Manka got angry.

“Well, as you wish,” Ba laughed and went down the stairs.

In the kitchen, the first thing she did was turn on the radio. While the announcer, with a ray of happiness in his voice, was telling how the winter crops had sprung up magnificently in all the fields of our vast homeland, Ba walked angrily on her face and caustically commented on his every word. Further, to the accompaniment of the tragic news about the plight of miners in the Bolivian department of Oruro, she dissolved yeast in warm milk, added a little salt, and placed a bowl of dough on a warm radiator so that it would dissipate faster. While the yeast was thinking, Ba ran to the backyard, poured grains into the chickens, and added water to the drinking bowl. She took four eggs, did not touch the fifth - she left it in the box. Because if you take away all the eggs, the chickens will scatter around the chicken coop and scatter around the corners.

I ran home, frosty, and broke three yolks into a dough, added a tablespoon of sugar and melted butter, as well as half a cup of sour cream, and kneaded a thin dough. Separately, beat the egg whites into a fluffy foam and carefully fold them into the dough. She stirred it with a wooden spatula, covered it with a lid, wrapped it in a warm blanket, and left it to finish. I melted half a stick of butter and beat it with a glass of linden honey. This made a delicious sauce for pancakes. I brewed tea leaves in a pot-bellied ceramic teapot and opened a jar of strawberry jam - Uncle Misha didn’t eat honey, he only preferred jam for sweets. Satisfied with herself, she sat down to drink tea. I listened - it was quiet upstairs.

“We should go see what she’s doing there,” Ba decided, finished her tea, rinsed the cup and, trying not to creak the wooden steps, went up to the second floor. The first thing that caught her eye was a poster covered in thick, uneven scrawls. Ba adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and came closer to better see the new inscriptions. Manyunya, of course, did not lose face and colored the poster with yet another heart-rending appeal:

“ENTRY IS PROHIBITED TO ANYONE WHO IS DARED!

CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL FLEET MARIA SCHATZ! MIKHAILOVNA!

MASTER OF SCIENCES. MEMBER OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY 1845!

YEAR OF DEATH: NOT DIED, ALIVE"

Ba burst into tears.

Are you laughing? - the keyhole instantly became quarrelsome.

What are you doing! - Ba coughed. - I'm not laughing at all.

Like? - the well thawed.

Really like. What is one thousand eight hundred and forty-five?

And here it is on the poster. You wrote "fellow of the royal society 1845".

I don’t know, I copied it from a book, I just added my name. Now I am the captain of the royal ship. And you are still prohibited from entering here.

Why couldn’t you, captain of the royal ship and master of sciences, rewrite it without errors?

And here and here,” Ba pointed her finger at the poster. - And here too. I personally counted three mistakes. Come out, I'll show you.

I won't go out! You'll start swearing!

I won't swear.

And I say that you will!

And I say...

Ba didn’t have time to finish her sentence, because the door of the next room swung open noisily, and disheveled Uncle Misha poked his head out.

I understand that on my legal day off I won’t be allowed to sleep?

Until you learn how to button your pajamas correctly, they definitely won’t let you! - Ba retorted. - You should have missed by two buttons!

This is because I was about to button up, already in the dark. What's going on here?

Ba nodded towards the poster:

Well, my granddaughter has been on her feet since six o’clock this morning. Pay attention to her regalia - any Nobel laureate will be jealous.

Uncle Misha squinted to make out Manina's scribbles.

Master of Science! Well, you have to! Why is entry into the room prohibited?

Because Ba is laughing at me! - Manka panted.

I'm not laughing at anything! I'm even completely delighted with your scientific version of Darwin's death.

An incredulous silence reigned behind the door.

What is the scientific version? - Uncle Misha whispered.

Let her tell you herself,” Ba giggled.

“Daughter,” Uncle Misha knocked on the door, “you have a poster here that says entry is prohibited to anyone who laughs.” But I'm not laughing at you? Can you open it for me?

“I can’t,” Manka boomed. - You will swear!

I won't swear!

And I say that you will!

And I say...

Ba listened to the squabble between her relatives for some time with a complacent smile, but suddenly became alarmed and tense:

One minute! Maria, baby, come on, admit what you did? It's not about the poster, is it? Why did you lock the door?

An oppressive silence reigned in the room, but Mana’s eye darted around the keyhole with double speed.

“I’m telling you that you will swear,” she whined.

Uncle Misha and Ba looked at each other in fear.

We will not! “Honestly,” they assured in unison.

Swear it! - Manka demanded. - My health!

We swear by your health!

I’ll open it now, but don’t come in right away, okay?

First, a key began to fumble in the door, then the clatter of Manya’s bare heels was heard. When Uncle Misha and Ba looked into the room, Manka was already flying to her bed. She ran her head into the pillow and became quiet, exposing her plump butt covered in warm pajama pants for everyone to see.

Pure ostrich! - Ba chuckled and stormed Manka. She didn’t even scan the interior for damage - over the years of living with Manya, she learned to unmistakably recognize at what point in the space-time continuum her restless granddaughter managed to do some mischief. Now her intuition told her that this point was in the place where Manya was hiding her face.

Show me what you have there,” Ba demanded.

I won't! - Manka boomed and buried her face deeper into the pillow.

Don’t bury yourself in the pillow, you can’t breathe, you’ll suffocate!

Well, let!

She asked for it! - Uncle Misha grabbed his daughter’s heels and began to tickle them mercilessly. Manka squealed, arched and released the pillow. Ba pulled out the pillow and blanket with lightning speed. There was absolutely nothing to bury my face in now! Manka sniffled, sighed, lay there with her butt upright for a while, then suddenly sat up and removed her hands from her face.

Ghmpthu,” Uncle Misha and Ba swallowed loudly.

“I just drew this, don’t be alarmed,” Manya waved her hands reassuringly.

How can you not be scared? - Ba leaned towards her granddaughter to take a closer look at her face. - What have you done to yourself, you onion mountain?

The onion mountain guiltily puffed up its thickly painted tar cheeks in response.

I drew myself a beard. Like Darwin. A felt-tip pen.

A felt-tip pen. Black. To look like a captain in the Royal Navy. Why are you looking at me like that?

It was not in vain that Manka was worried. Dad and grandma looked like two stone statues. And if dad at least sometimes sighed and blinked helplessly, then Ba did not move at all. She stood there, bent in half, clutching a pillow and blanket to her chest. Then, a hundred years later, she blinked, turned to her son and, looking somewhere at his navel, groaned in a muffled voice:

My back cramped.

What? - Uncle Misha was scared.

My back, I say, is cramped! - Ba rumbled. - Do something!

Manya, bring some tiger ointment from the first aid kit,” Uncle Misha perked up.

While Manyunya flew to the kitchen for ointment, he helped Ba get into bed.

What is this? - Ba groaned, trying in vain to stretch her body, twisted like the letter G, to at least an obtuse angle. - What kind of misfortune is this?

Maria,” Uncle Misha leaned over the railing of the stairs, “found it?”

No,” shouted Manka, “there is only butadione ointment in the first aid kit!”

I tormented the tiger in my last attack,” Ba moaned.

“I can run to Aunt Valya,” Manya suggested.

One leg is there, the other is here,” Uncle Misha shouted.

Manya threw a coat over her pajamas, put on her boots and ran out of the house. While she was running to the neighbors, Uncle Misha brought a special goat fur shawl from the top shelf of the mezzanine. This shawl was Ba’s constant companion in all her sciatica cases. Ba sewed a button to one end of the shawl, and a loop to the other, and on difficult days, when an attack twisted her back, she wrapped it around her and solemnly buttoned it on her stomach.

Characters

Schatz family:

BA. In other words - Rosa Iosifovna Shats. Here I put an end to it and tremble.

Uncle Misha. Son Ba and at the same time Manyunin’s dad. Lonely and unyielding. A womanizer with a fine mental organization. Again, monogamous. Knows how to combine incompatible things. True friend.

Manyunya. Granddaughter of Ba and Uncle's daughter. A natural disaster with a combat forelock on its head. Resourceful, funny, kind. If he falls in love, then to death. Until he comes to terms with the light, he will not calm down.

Vasya. Sometimes Vasidis. In essence, it is an all-terrain GAZ-69. The exterior looks like a chicken coop on wheels. Stubborn, willful. House builder. He frankly considers women to be a rudimentary phenomenon of anthropogenesis. Disdainfully ignores the fact of their existence.

Abgaryan family:

Papa Yura. The underground nickname is “My son-in-law is gold.” Mom's husband, father of four different-sized daughters. Sole of company. The character is explosive. Devoted family man. True friend.

Mom Nadya. Trembling and loving. Runs well. He knows how to extinguish an emerging conflict in the bud with a well-aimed slap on the head. Constantly improving.

Narine. It's me. Thin, tall, big-nosed. But the foot size is large. A poet's dream (modestly).

Karinka. Responds to the names Genghis Khan, Armageddon, Apocalypse Now. Father Yura and mother Nadya still have not figured out for what monstrous sins they got such a child.

Gayane. Lover of anything that can be shoved up your nostrils, as well as crossbody bags. A naive, very kind and sympathetic child. Prefers to distort words. Even at the age of six he says “alapolt”, “lasiped” and “shamashy”.

Sonechka. Everyone's favorite. An incredibly stubborn child. Don’t feed me bread, let me become stubborn. For food, he prefers boiled sausage and green onions; he can’t stand red inflatable mattresses.

Henrietta. Actually, “a penny.” But in terms of spiritual qualities - a golden royal chervonets at a minimum. She's all about herself and won't say a word against her. Through the efforts of both dads, he constantly gets into trouble. Either he drives into a herd of cows, or he does a somersault in a ditch. And all this - without a single reproach. Not a car, but a forgiving angel on wheels.

Chapter 1

Manyunya - Master of Science, or How a banal shot can save you from punishment

Bah? How did Darwin die?

Ba grabbed her heart. She sat up abruptly and fumbled for her glasses. Drowsily, she put them on upside down and mumbled something unintelligible in response.

Chivoy? - Manka put her palm to her ear and leaned forward.

What time is it now?

“Six o’clock in the morning,” Manka reported loudly, pulled out a book from under her arm, opened it to a page and stared demandingly at her grandmother.

Ba opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at her watch.

Maria, are you crazy? It's the day off, why did you wake up so early?

Manya sniffled resentfully:

I would say that you don’t know how Darwin died. Why are you talking about a day off right away?

Ba sighed, put on her glasses correctly, took the book from Manka and stared at the illustration. A fat, warty toad looked at her from the page.

What is it?

This is a poisonous toad. But I didn’t want to talk about her. There’s just no picture here about this story. It says that a wasp stung a spider. And the spider parari... - Manka gurgled on the “r”, winced in annoyance, cleared her throat and began to attack the complex word again: - Palalized!

Paralyzed?

This is it! And he lay there, you know, completely dead.

Schatz family:

BA. In other words - Rosa Iosifovna Shats. Here I put an end to it and tremble.

Uncle Misha. Son Ba and at the same time Manyunin’s dad. Lonely and unyielding. A womanizer with a fine mental organization. Again, monogamous. Knows how to combine incompatible things. True friend.

Manyunya. Granddaughter of Ba and Uncle's daughter. A natural disaster with a combat forelock on its head. Resourceful, funny, kind. If he falls in love, then to death. Until he comes to terms with the light, he will not calm down.

Vasya. Sometimes Vasidis. In essence, it is an all-terrain GAZ-69. The exterior looks like a chicken coop on wheels. Stubborn, willful. House builder. He frankly considers women to be a rudimentary phenomenon of anthropogenesis. Disdainfully ignores the fact of their existence.

Abgaryan family:

Papa Yura. The underground nickname is “My son-in-law is gold.” Mom's husband, father of four different-sized daughters. Sole of company. The character is explosive. Devoted family man. True friend.

Mom Nadya. Trembling and loving. Runs well. He knows how to extinguish an emerging conflict in the bud with a well-aimed slap on the head. Constantly improving.

Narine. It's me. Thin, tall, big-nosed. But the foot size is large. A poet's dream (modestly).

Karinka. Responds to the names Genghis Khan, Armageddon, Apocalypse Now. Father Yura and mother Nadya still have not figured out for what monstrous sins they got such a child.

Gayane. Lover of anything that can be shoved up your nostrils, as well as crossbody bags. A naive, very kind and sympathetic child. Prefers to distort words. Even at the age of six he says “alapolt”, “lasiped” and “shamashy”.

Sonechka. Everyone's favorite. An incredibly stubborn child. Don’t feed me bread, let me become stubborn. For food, he prefers boiled sausage and green onions; he can’t stand red inflatable mattresses.

Henrietta. Actually, “a penny.” But in terms of spiritual qualities - a golden royal chervonets at least. She's all about herself and won't say a word against her. Through the efforts of both dads, he constantly gets into trouble. Either he drives into a herd of cows, or he does a somersault in a ditch. And all this - without a single reproach. Not a car, but a forgiving angel on wheels.

- Bah? How did Darwin die?

Ba grabbed her heart. She sat up abruptly and fumbled for her glasses. Drowsily, she put them on upside down and mumbled something unintelligible in response.

- Chivoy? – Manka put her palm to her ear and leaned forward.

- What time is it now?

“It’s six o’clock in the morning,” Manka reported loudly, pulled out a book from under her arm, opened it to a page and stared demandingly at her grandmother.

Ba opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at her watch.

– Maria, are you crazy? It's the day off, why did you wake up so early?

Manya sniffled resentfully:

– I would say that you don’t know how Darwin died. Why are you talking about a day off right away?

Ba sighed, put on her glasses correctly, took the book from Manka and stared at the illustration. A fat, warty toad looked at her from the page.

- What is it?

- This is a poisonous toad. But I didn’t want to talk about her. There’s just no picture here about this story. It says that a wasp stung a spider. And the spider parari... - Manka gurgled on the “r”, winced in annoyance, cleared her throat and again began to attack the complex word: “Palalized!”

- Paralyzed?

- This is it! And he lay there, you know, completely dead. Under a bush. But he was breathing!

- Ha-ha-ha!

- Why are you laughing? There's nothing funny here! On the contrary, everything is terribly terrible! And when this wasp wanted to drag the spider into its nest to feed the babies, Darwin caught it.

- Lie down next to me. “Ba moved to the side, pulled back the edge of the blanket, and patted the sheet with her hand.

- I won’t lie down next to you! You will start squeezing me again, but I want to talk!

“I promise I won’t squeeze you.”

- Swear!

- I swear! – Ba spread her fingers. “You see, I don’t even cross my fingers.”

Manyunya stared at her grandmother with a searching gaze for a minute, then nodded, climbed under the blanket and continued in a loud whisper:

- And what am I thinking now? Maybe when Darwin brought this wasp to his... well, where he lived there, to his home...

- Well, yes, to the house.

– I brought it home, not to my home!!!

- Bah, what are you doing! Brought this wasp home! So, she lived in a cage for some time, and then Darwin accidentally stuck his finger in there, well, he wanted to dig deeper, and she stung him? And he died?

– Is the Pallied One dead? – Ba, unable to bear Mana’s tragic gaze, buried her face in the pillow and burst into her trademark laughter, periodically sobbing and wailing: “Oh, I can’t do it anymore!” Manka irritably pulled the book out of her grandmother’s hands, crawled out of bed, and put on her slippers.

- You're just like dad! You also tell him something scientific, and he immediately starts laughing. And saying, “Oh, I can’t,” she mimicked. - I won’t tell you anything more! I’d rather tell Narka. She may not even know why Darwin died, but at least she doesn’t laugh back!

- What does she do if she doesn’t laugh? - Ba squealed between two bouts of laughter.

– He sits next to him and looks silently. It's clear? So, I went to my place! And you continue to laugh alone! - Manka sniffled, pulled her pajama pants high over her chest, turned over her shoulder and, frantically taking a step, moved out of the room.

- Oh oh! A sailor's chest, a turkey's butt! - Ba shouted after her.

- Neither oh nor oh! Not the chest, not the sailor, not the butt, not the turkey! – Manka did not remain in debt.

Ba wiped away the tears that had come out with the sleeve of her nightie and lay there for a while, coming to her senses. She stood up and pulled her curly hair into a short ponytail. She went to the window and opened the window. The room was instantly filled with a cold February morning - the pungent smell of melted snow and wet, swollen earth, the frozen dawn timidly gilded the shoulder of the distant hill, the late morning roosters were crowing grumpily.

“It will be a good day,” Ba decided.

She changed her clothes, tidied up the bed, and covered the bed with a heavy quilted blanket. She stacked the books on the nightstand and adjusted the lacy napkin on the dressing table. She looked around the room with satisfaction - it was clean! She quietly closed the door behind her and went to negotiate with her granddaughter.

Manka's room was located between the rooms of Ba and Uncle Misha. Uncle's bedroom is located at the very end of the corridor. It closed with a large glass loggia, where Uncle Misha kept all his engineering gadgets. Several wires, metal parts and plugs lay in a cardboard box under the table. Every time she cleaned, she swore strongly and took the box out onto the loggia, but after a day or two it magically ended up in the room again. It’s just that Uncle Misha periodically made some discoveries, enthusiastically drew diagrams and assembled strange structures that looked like the spare parts of the Druzhba chainsaw crumpled after a small explosion, so the rescue box had to be constantly at hand. You never know, maybe inspiration strikes you at three o’clock in the morning, don’t go to the frosty balcony to get the wires! After all, easy access to spare parts is the key to the greatest scientific discoveries!

Therefore, in order to save the nerves of herself and those around her, Ba gave her son a back room. This way you can be less irritated by the endless industrial rubbish, without which your son cannot imagine his life, and not distract him from all sorts of important discoveries. Uncle Misha valued Ba’s dedication very much; at home he tried to restrain himself from crazy design impulses, and tested the operation of newly-made devices in the backyard of his native relay factory. I was very upset that there was no armored room for experiments at the enterprise.