Chapter 20

Part one

Blizzard

Chapter first

The sky was still cloudless, the snow glittering and shimmering under the piercingly cold sun. The ringing silence was broken only by the creak of snowmobile runners on dry, crisp snow. But Matvey Vlasovich slowed down more and more often, made a short stop, raised the ear of his hat, listened, squinting attentively peered into the distance. It was like something was bothering him. The youngest grandson, who was sent to accompany his grandfather on a hunt, smiled, watching him, recalling the words of his father:

So he listens to the wind...

“What a wind, it’s quiet,” the son asked.

The father shook his head.

The wind is always there, you have to be able to hear it.

***

Matvey Vlasovich lived in the world for eighty years. In Siberia. With a break for five student years. Studied in Leningrad. Then he returned to himself. So he spoke. Sometimes he wrote this in his autobiography, but he was corrected. He reluctantly agreed, correcting it to "returned to Siberia." Again they did not agree with him, they asked him to indicate a specific place of residence. How could he define it? Rarely in which city did he live more than one winter season. As soon as the snow melted, he was already on his way. The geologist Matvey Butakov took a sip of the nomadic hard life to the fullest. He remembered her especially often on hunting trips like this. I breathed air with a taste of pine needles,almost physically felt everything that happened in the depths of the taiga. Here, from the top of a huge old cedar, snow falls in a soft avalanche to its foot. But the fox sneaks cautiously in the hunting lodge. She smelled mice. There they have fun. A woodpecker softly taps on a tree, sometimes capercaillie flutter out from under the snow. Somewhere far away, behind a treeless mound, an elk trumpeted... Matvey Vlasovich knew everything about the taiga, rivers and lakes. I could talk for hours about the nature of Siberia. Children and grandchildren grew up with these stories. However, they themselves knew a lot about her. After all, the family, wife and four children, always followed him. Such was the agreement between the seventeen-year-old Evdokia and Matvey. There, on the high bank of the Irtysh, in the predawn morning, quietly from classmates meeting the dawn after the graduation ball, Matvey, worried, therefore almost sternly asked the one who had been sitting at the same desk with him for eleven years:

- I have a summons to the army. Are you coming to follow?

- Of course I will!

-And ... but wait ... will you wait ?

The girl answered simply:

- And how, of course. I will write often so that you do not forget me.

And Matthew took a risk:

"Are you going to marry me then?" - but, recollecting himself, he added. “Just keep in mind, I’ll become a geologist. And you will always have to be where I am. Do you understand what that means?

The girl laughed.

- Found something to scare me! Forgot who my parents are? Tell me how many garrisons they changed until I, the last of their children, went to first grade?

“But you will have to wait for your house only after my pension.

— Wow, have you thought about retirement yet?

- And what about, - Matvey confirmed quite seriously, - and about pensions too.

***

"That was a long time ago. A long time ago. But it’s like yesterday,” Matvey Vlasovich thought during a stop, admiring his grandson, the youngest. He was not at all like the others in the large Butakov family. From early childhood. He did not like noisy games, he was dreamy and quiet. Often he went into himself like that, thinking about something. Teachers at school did not complain about him, he studied smoothly, but often said that he was "strange".

- Strange. For whom it is “strange”, and for whom it is understandable.

The grandfather himself was sure that the character of his grandson, named after him, was inherited by him from the mother-in-law of Matvey Vlasovich - Anna Stanislavovna. He took a lot from her naturally soft character, and not from the one that she herself was forced to harden by marrying a military doctor. One garrison replaced the second, the third. From the Far East, fate brought to the Caucasus, then Central Asia. And everywhere the husband disappeared for days in the service. There are three sons and a daughter at home. Not for poetry. Yes, and I left painting for a long time. I had to, even as I had to remake myself, learn to be both mom and dad. Only when she retired did she rediscover her cherished diaries, which she managed to keep during numerous moves. Will the character of the grandson change when he leaves his father's house and plunges into the real world? Or will he remain a "dreamer", as his friends at school call him?

Sitting at some distance on an old birch trunk blown down by the wind, Matvey Vlasovich did not take his eyes off the young "hunter". Leaving the gun next to the snowmobile, he did not let go of the camera. And then he finally caught a hare in the frame - a hare that jumped right at him from a low willow tree on the banks of the Irtysh. Grandfather glanced once more at the sky, at the slightly intensifying snow, raised the ear of his earflap cap, listened:

- Matvey, it's time, a storm is coming!

- You, grandfather, said that until three or four hours we can "walk"!

The grandfather calmly replied:

- He said, he said, yes, apparently, he made a mistake a little. The wind is changing. Snowfall will start soon. Zavyuzhit. Time to go home. Yes, and enough for you to crawl through the snowdrifts. Save your pants. Yes, and the new jacket is already asking for a wash. Oh, you get it from your grandmother.

“Grandma never scolds me. I am her beloved grandson. She told me this herself. And what kind of snowfall is coming for us? What storm? I listened to the report in the morning. Yes, the sky is clear.

Matvey Vlasovich gave in to his grandson:

“Alright, another half an hour, then we’re off.” Do not climb into the snowdrifts - then. Don't you see the streaks?

Having said this, he immediately regretted:

- I couldn't resist again!

Such guardianship of children was not in the habit of the elders of the Butakov family. And this rule was once established by Matvey Vlasovich himself. I wanted to raise independence in my sons and grandchildren. It worked with the seniors. But at the youngest, he, as they say, broke down. Even the daughter-in-law sometimes blamed:

- You, dad, cannot always “lay straws” for him. Let him learn life.

Here and now. Everyone who grew up in Siberia, and even in the countryside, knows from an early age that fluffy snowdrifts hide "pitfalls". It didn't need to be mentioned again. True, the grandson no longer listened to him. He noticed a dark shadow among the willow tree and a barely noticeable park of someone's breath over the bushes. Or maybe he just imagined it all? There were no tracks in the snow, but the animal could have come down the slope from the other side. Matvey had an old dream - to get a "portrait" of a musk deer. Only her, the "owner" of the taiga - a bear, and even a couple of rare animals was not enough in his "collection". He was especially proud of a photograph of a pack of wolves he took from a high cliff. But there was not enough musk deer. Moose once managed to photograph. And this little wonderful beast met him only in the pictures. The elders kindly teased him:

- You were born forty years late that way. Now you can't find it in the afternoon with fire in the taiga.

But Matvey continued to hope and search. And the places here are the most suitable for this almost mythical beast. Mountain slopes nearby. There she is still met by experienced hunters. Shoot do not shoot. Hunting is prohibited.

While one of the Butakovs was trying to crawl closer to the "spot", the second one was packing the prey - two birds with one stone, caught by Matvey Vlasovich himself in the morning.

Hearing the loud laughter of his grandson behind him, Matvey Vlasovich looked around. Matvey, no longer hiding, stood at full height and whistled the forest animal fleeing from him in the direction of the ice-covered Irtysh.

- Well? Did the fox not want to be photographed?

The boy waved his hand nonchalantly .

- Well, I have a lot of such pictures. But it wasn't a fox, more like a weasel.

- Good. Ready to go?

“Always ready,” the grandson replied, still cheerfully. - I'll just drive, okay. That's how we agreed. In the morning in the dark you drive, and back I drive.

- Well, if we agreed ...

Matvey pushed back his cap, put on goggles, buttoned the flaps of his mittens tighter, and shouted mischievously:

- Go!

The snowmobile moved off, began to turn around on the way back, confidently drove on the turn onto the hillock, turned in the right direction and accelerated to the morning ski track. Only a few tens of meters remained before it, covered with high snowdrifts ... Passing alone, the driver noticed a high stump sticking out from under the snow too late, turned the steering wheel sharply ... Everything happened rapidly. Matvey Vlasovich passed out for a second from a strong blow on the zastruga.

“Well, you’ll get it from me today,” Matvey Vlasovich began, as he pulled himself out from under the snowmobile. — Where did you drive? And I'm an old fool, I gave you the steering wheel.

Only a faint groan was heard in response.

— Matthew, son, how are you? - the grandfather gasped, rushed to his grandson. He lay on his side, crushed by an overturned car. His face could not be seen because of the stray cap and glasses, the boy was unconscious. But after a few minutes he came to his senses:

“Leg, what’s wrong with my leg?”

Matvey Vlasovich has already recovered from the first shock. Behind the back of an experienced geologist there were dozens of situations when skills replaced emotions. Expeditions did not always have their own doctor. Not always. Therefore, he himself, and all his subordinates knew how to provide first aid. It has saved lives more than once.

At first glance, Matthew got off pretty lightly. Only his leg was injured, hit by a snowmobile and the sharp edge of an old snow bank that had iced over during the recent thaw. Zastrugi. But, having unbuttoned the leg of his ski suit, Matvey Vlasovich realized that it hadn't been done! The leg was broken. White bone. The open wound slowly filled with blood.

“It just wasn’t enough,” the man gritted through his teeth, while maintaining his composure.

The first thing is a first aid kit. She was always at hand on any trip. Everything you need is there. Having applied a tourniquet, Matvey Vlasovich broke an ampoule with an analgesic. The wounded in the first minutes does not feel pain. But soon the shock will pass, and she will make itself felt. There are thirty kilometers ahead. So you need to be pain-free. Then - immobilize.

Grabbing a knife, Matvey Vlasovich got through a high snowdrift to the nearest tree, cut off several branches, made tires out of them ...

At such moments, the consciousness of a person seems to be bifurcated. The hands act according to a given program, and the head evaluates the situation. First, where to take the wounded? Home, homestead? But from there to the nearest doctor is much further than to the Nenets village on the other side. There is a small hospital there. I need to warn my wife. There is no one else at home except for her.

But there was no connection. This is not uncommon during snowstorms. And she was already there. The wind increased, snow began to fall, visibility dropped sharply.

Having laid his grandson in a sleigh, covering him with a fur canopy, Matvey Vlasovich got behind the wheel. He made a decision and confidently drove the snowmobile to the reindeer herders' village.

- No drama! Don't panic, don't lose your head. Do not look for reasons and do not reproach yourself - for this you will always have time. Focus on correcting the situation - Matvey Vlasovich followed this from his youth all his life and taught all his children this. But now ... now he is to himself, and even out loud he still blames himself:

- Where did you go and drag the little one behind you? You can’t go hunting alone anymore, so stay at home ...

Until recently, an experienced Siberian did not need an escort. All domestic conversations about the time to save yourself and the nerves of others, you are not young already, you never know what can happen in the taiga, he immediately stopped:

“It’s too early to write me off. And with my health, everything is in perfect order, except, of course, for the fact that the once broken bones ache a lot due to bad weather. So it's not fatal. And I don't need a babysitter. You mind your own business, and I do mine.

But recently, suddenly unexpectedly agreed:

- Well, let my grandchildren ride with me. It's good for them too. Painfully often sit on the Internet.

There was a reason. A couple of times he had a strange pain in his chest. Secretly from relatives, Matvey Vlasovich was already visiting his old friend, the doctor. He, too, had been retired for a long time, but numerous friends, neighbors, and acquaintances still turned to him.

After listening to the former geologist, the doctor without ceremony advised him to "moderate his ardor." Prescribed several medications and recommended specialists. Matvey Vlasovich, of course, did not go to them, but he regularly “swallowed” the medicines and somewhat reduced the load, transferring the care of a considerable household to his son and older grandchildren. But he could not refuse trips to the taiga. Reluctantly, he agreed to use a snowmobile instead of skis, but grumbled for a long time:

— What kind of hunting on this machine? She wakes up the dead. It is good for firewood, for hay. And there are skis for hunting.

The snowmobile easily overcame kilometer after kilometer. But the blizzard intensified every minute. The wind picked up yesterday's snow from the ground, mixed it with what the wind had just brought, circled it more and more furiously. It was getting harder and harder to breathe every minute. It was dark all around, almost like night. But the snowmobile did not slow down, went smoothly and confidently. Matvey Vlasovich led him almost at random, focusing only on his instinct, which he had developed over the years of wandering through the taiga. Living in nature revived ancient instincts in him. Several times he stopped, checked the wounded teenager. There was less and less time left. The applied tourniquet stopped the bleeding, but it was time to remove it so as not to lose his leg. According to his calculation, there was very little left to the village, when the engine of the snowmobile's engine lost its rhythm, an extraneous whistling sound appeared.

“Not now, not now!” Don't let me down, dear!

But this time prayer did not help. The motor sneezed a couple more and froze. Matvey Vlasovich left the steering wheel. Looked around. In the twilight of an already thick snowstorm, we managed to make out the forest in the distance, on the left, and the slope of the river on the right. Apparently, the village was already very close. Now the main thing was not to pass by the outermost houses of the village.

A young nurse in the emergency room of a small hospital was flirting peacefully with two young patients when the door opened. A tall man covered from head to toe with snow, with a heavy burden on his hands, appeared on the threshold, and croaked:

"Hurry, hurry, doctor!" You have to take the harness off. He has a broken leg.

The trio did not move for several seconds.

- Wake up, your mother! Help!

Together they laid the wounded man on the couch. The sister rushed off for the doctor. A short, round woman appeared from somewhere deep in the corridor. Paramedic. Anyone could envy her composure. By the time the doctor arrived, Matvey was transferred to the table. Outerwear removed and thick ski pants cut with scissors. They were soaked in blood.

The doctor turned out to be a rather young man with a sleepy face and a frown. Just a couple of hours ago, he returned from a distant camp, where he took a difficult birth. Therefore, I did not immediately understand the reason for the emergency call to the hospital. But, realizing the situation, he changed completely, as if he had not had two sleepless days behind him. His calm confidence was transferred to Matvey Vlasovich. Throwing off his wet clothes, he sank heavily into the chair in the waiting room, leaned against the back, and passed out. But only for a few minutes. Waking up, he went to the door leading to the hall, where doctors were busy around his grandson. Something about their behavior made him uneasy. He tried to hear the low-pitched phrases they exchanged among themselves. The doctor noticed him. He went out, studied him appraisingly for a minute, then asked:

Did your grandson have heart problems? Serious illnesses?

- Well no. He never had anything serious. Recently, however, I caught a sore throat. A few days of high temperature, but that's all. And what is with the heart?

Without answering the question, the doctor continued:

- Now we have a main problem - there is no blood. We have spent all our stock on childbirth. Will be delivered tomorrow. But you can't wait that long. Looks like we have an emergency. You may need to go for a direct transfusion. There is no other way out. We are looking for a donor in the village. You should know that this is only done in desperate situations. There may be complications.

Matvey Vlasovich responded immediately:

- I know about it. I've been in geology for fifty years, I've been in accidents myself, and so have my colleagues. Do what you think is right. But why look? Take from me.

The nurse intervened:

- They called the Plotnikovs. Both are not at home. On the hunt. Due to the blizzard, most likely, they will not return today. From the air ambulance reported. The helicopter is ready. As soon as the "window" appears, it will fly out.

Matvey Vlasovich again suggested:

Take my blood! What's the matter?

You yourself say that you have encountered similar cases. So you need to know about the rules. You could forget about your age, but you also have a heart problem, like, unfortunately, your grandson. We can get two patients instead of one,” the doctor snapped.

The paramedic tried to calm Matvey Vlasovich:

- Don't worry so much. We will find a donor. A guest lives in a hotel. He recently received treatment from us. He has a universal blood type. They have already followed him. And you need to bandage your hands and rest.

Only the understanding that the doctor was right kept Matvey Vlasovich from a violent reaction. He tried with all his last strength to maintain his composure, gave him his bruised and frostbitten hands to be bandaged, drank some medicine, but the feeling of helplessness became unbearable. Luckily, the hospital door swung open again, and a thick-set, bearded man appeared in a frosty cloud. Nodding his head imperturbably in salute, he took off his clothes and immediately went to the direction the doctor had directed him. Behind him, a wet trail of huge "flying" boots was left on the floor.

Time dragged on endlessly. Finally, a doctor came out to Matvey Vlasovich:

- The condition has stabilized. You made it, and our donor, fortunately, was nearby.

The doctor did not have time to finish the conversation. Around Matvey, who was lying on the table, the fuss began again. The Doctor ran back to him. The donor, who had already got up from the couch, also approached the young man, watched the doctors for several minutes, then resolutely pushed the nurse away:

"Step back, don't interfere!"

Amazingly, the doctors parted as if on cue. As if spellbound, they watched as the man brought one hand to the forehead of the young man, and the other to his chest, closed his eyes. There was a distinct crackling sound in the room, similar to electrical discharges. The man's hands and face became bluish-pale. A minute, another ... the boy began to breathe more evenly. There was a sigh of relief. The doctor, staggering, went out to Matvey Vlasovich, without a word patted him on the shoulder. No one noticed how at that moment a strange man left the hospital and disappeared into the pitch blizzard haze.