Chapter 24

By nightfall the wind had picked up. The snow had stopped, but a blowing blizzard was gradually rising. All paths from the house to the buildings in the yard were cleared in the morning. Now only barely visible traces reminded of them. The tension of the day did not pass without a trace for everyone, but especially for Matvey Vlasovich. Fatigue pressed to the ground. But it was precisely because of her that he so resolutely rejected all offers to stay at home, drink tea, lie down. He knew exactly what would help him regain both strength and vigor. And he went to his beloved Batyr. A very young, not yet fully developed stallion sensed his master from afar. A special relationship was established between the elderly man and the young horse from the first days.

An old friend, with whom Matvey Butakov was brought together by fate while still at the institute, having retired, left for his native Kazakhstan. All the long years of joint difficult everyday life in geological parties, they dreamed of the future. It certainly included horses among other things. Beside. To communicate with these amazing animals every day. They were part of their childhood. And now Matvey Butakov attributed to his earliest and happiest memories the summer bathing twice a day of an old, overworked horse in the Irtysh. In the morning in wonderfully invigorating water. And in the evening - in the sun heated to the state of warm milk. The horse's name was Boy. He was born in a small village near the city. As long as he had the strength, he regularly worked on the collective farm. Then came the hard times of the war. The village is deserted. The men went to the front. A few good horses are with them. By that time, the boy was no longer fit for military exploits. And on the field, too, there was already little use for him. So we decided to give it to the city school. They carried water from the Irtysh on it when the water supply was “dying”, and food for the dining room.

The boy became a real joy for children in difficult years. Joys then - without a doubt. Only the anxious, painful expectation of fathers from the front. The children raced in the mornings to the annex to the school workshop, which became the "home" for the Boy. It was their worries that the age of the horse was extended. With him, the children shared meager delicacies. For him, under the supervision of a very elderly supply manager, they made hay, cleaned the stall and, of course, bathed him.

Batyr little resembled that old hard worker. Raised in the wild in the steppes of Kazakhstan, he possessed an almost supernatural instinct. I knew about the arrival of Matvey Vlasovich at least half an hour before his appearance at the estate. Batyr's ancestors were not only hardy and unpretentious steppe horses. A friend of Matvey Vlasovich, Adil Akhmetov, having retired, started breeding a new breed. As he dreamed all his life. Therefore, an experienced eye could discern in the horse a steppe, an argamak, and a trotter. Having built a manor on the banks of the Irtysh, Matvey Vlasovich dreamed of devoting the rest of his life to the development of equestrian tourism. Before the implementation of the plans was still quite a long way off. A lot of resources were required for this. Therefore, for the time being, Batyr became for him the one who could be trusted with everything. And the wife was not far from the truth when she joked:

- You tell Batyr more than me.

Matvey Vlasovich smiled and kept quiet. Indeed, he could not really say that he did not have to say anything to the horse at all. He himself does not understand everything, but he feels it. Next to him, not only physical fatigue disappears, but also worries and doubts. And this is what Matvey Vlasovich used to hide from those closest to him, believing that this is what the eldest in the family should do.

And now, left alone with Batyr, Matvey Vlasovich sat down on the fence next to him. The horse rested its head on his shoulder, snoring lightly, squinting his hazel eye, trying to look into his face. The warmth of his large body, like a soft blanket, wrapped the person from head to toe. Everything became calmer, thoughts cleared up. Soon Matvey Vlasovich knew what he would say to his sons.

Returning to the house, the head of the family realized that Artyom had already explained to his brother the incident with his son in the hospital. As was often the case, after supper the women took care of the children, while the men remained in the kitchen. But today Evdokia Alexandrovna was next to them. This was always done when it came to family problems not related to the household. A bottle of red wine appeared on the table. There was no atmosphere of a carefree family evening, but there was no nervousness either. Rather, it is a business concern. Matvey Vlasovich finally settled down in his favorite chair with a high headrest. Only in this way did rheumatic pains, a consequence of repeated cold nights in tents, calm down, the spine stopped whining.

- Well, mother, will you tell us? He put his hand on his wife's shoulder.

- I'll tell you. I will say that tomorrow we have to go for Matvey. If the doctor is sure that the fracture heals quickly, then why should he linger there? We'll heal at home.

Here Evdokia Alexandrovna looked anxiously at Artyom:

By the way, you left it there. Are you sure nothing will happen again?

Artem explained:

- The head of security personally gave me the word to look after him. Everything will be okay.

Evdokia Alexandrovna continued:

"That's good, but it's time for him to get down to business anyway." Go to school. Yes, and at home, do not beat the buckets, but adjust your studies. If necessary, you can always take him to a consultation with doctors.

Artem replied:

The surgeon advises him to stay in the hospital for a couple more days.

— Yes, it could be. But I'm afraid that after yesterday's events, the doctors may decide to play it safe and send him for a consultation to some psychotherapist. And what comes to mind, who knows.

Matvey Vlasovich agreed:

- You're right. If not, then we will find a specialist ourselves. In the meantime, let it be at home under our supervision. Igor, how do you agree with your mother?

Igor did not hesitate:

- If you accurately described yesterday's situation, then it is more likely that it is not my son who needs a consultation with a psychotherapist, but those who could not find a patient in their own department.

Matvei Vlasovich was about to object, but Igor interrupted him:

- Yes, dad, I understand that with the disappearance of Matvey for five hours or more, not everything is clear. But we need to think about this. Himself. So mom is right. We'll pick it up tomorrow. Is there anything else you wanted to say, mom?

“Perhaps my father and I will listen to you for now.

However, she immediately added:

I don't like it when I don't understand something. And even more so if several times in a row. These cases don't look like coincidences.

Artyom supported:

— Yes, it would be possible not to pay attention to each individually.

Matvey Vlasovich clarified:

“I wouldn't say so. Even the way our new relative brought Matvey to his senses amazed me greatly. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed anyone. I won't rest until I figure out how he did it.

— Dad, we still live in the North. In Siberia. Here, in fact, before people were treated only in this way, ”Igor reminded his father.

— That’s right, only the shamans treated, and not everyone in a row. Like the Slavs, for example, healers healed. I asked the locals about it. They all unanimously claim that he is a visitor from the Russian outback. It has nothing to do with shamanism. He is being treated in the hospital.

Igor interrupted the argument:

- Let's decide what should alert us the most? What can't we attribute to chance? Artyom, what do you think?

Artem listed without hesitation:

- The disappearance of Matvey for half a day, which he himself completely denies. Well, think about it, how is this possible? He sits in the hallway, reading. But no one notices him. Namely, at this time someone is watching his ward, trampling in the deep snow under the windows of the hospital. And traces of this type are very similar to those that we found here, near the fence of the estate. Fur boots size 47.

“And the fact that he suddenly changed so much?” - added Evdokia Alexandrovna.

- This, Mom, happens to teenagers. You yourself remember what numbers we chipped off at one time. Forgot?

- Maybe you are right. But let's see what happens next.

Matvey Vlasovich looked at his watch and hurried:

We need to decide what we are going to do.

Artyom walked around the kitchen, looked into the darkness outside the window, then concluded:

“It seems to me that we have already done the main thing. We decided that Artem would be at home tomorrow. As for everything else, I think nothing special needs to be done yet. Let everything take its course. We just need to be more careful, keep an eye on the estate.

Everyone fell silent, considering what Artyom said. In the silence, one could clearly hear the wind raging outside the window, the branches of the bird cherry bush knocking on the glass. The whistle of the kettle boiling on the stove brought everyone back to reality. Matvey Vlasovich got up from his chair.

I agree with Artem. I think our trip to the village to the doctors should also clarify something. Let's talk to them. Let's find a donor. Let's get acquainted.

- Yes, exactly, - Igor picked up, - it is quite possible that our questions will disappear by themselves.

"Well, it's time for bed." I have to get up early tomorrow. But it would be good for all of us to think about a trip to the village. We should not go there empty-handed,” Matvey Vlasovich recalled.

“There will be no business behind this,” Evdokia Alexandrovna assured. “But there is still time. Think. You can go on Saturday or Sunday.

The elder Butakovs went up to the second floor to the bedroom, but the sons lingered. They had more to discuss. Whatever problems people have, animals require care every day. Especially on the eve of spring.

***

Matthew was preparing to leave the department. A sports bag with things stood by the bed. He himself was gloomy. Seeing relatives, he could hardly contain his emotions:

- Where am I being transferred? I want to go home. After all, Yevgeny Pavlovich promised to write it out today.

Igor exchanged glances with Matvey Vlasovich:

“Here you go, as always. Mom looked into the water. You need to talk to the doctor.

Yevgeny Pavlovich was in his office. He obviously expected this conversation. “You must understand me. I have no right after yesterday's events to simply discharge the patient home. He clearly needs psychological counseling. That's the protocol.

Matvey Vlasovich nodded his head in agreement:

Yes, we totally understand. But, if he has no problems with a fracture, then we will take him. Already asked for advice. You are familiar with Professor Davydov. He just deals with youthful problems and is ready to receive us at any time. If he recommends inpatient treatment, then...

Matvey Vlasovich did not have time to finish the sentence, as the surgeon raised his hands:

“Okay, okay, I get it. You have prepared. You just need to get everything right. Write a refusal to transfer.

Half an hour later, all the documents were ready. Saying goodbye to the Butakovs, the doctor asked Matvey Vlasovich to linger. Left alone, he took from the shelf a familiar thick notebook with numbers on the cover. 06/30/1908

- I want to show you this.

Opening the notes, the doctor stopped at the last page. She was clean.

- What does it mean? - Matvey Vlasovich was sincerely amazed - you don’t think that Matvey did it. Destroyed the record.

- No, I do not think so. He couldn't do it. Even if it occurred to him, he would tear out a leaf, or rather, the last three. There was a description of the actions of the donor. Everything you told me. But the sheets are here. The records just disappeared.

Matvey Vlasovich silently studied the pages, then asked:

Why did you choose to post my story here? After all, as far as I understand, everything related to the fall of the Tunguska meteorite is collected here. I'm right? What does the case with us have to do with it?

- You are not quite right. Here I write about all the incidents that happened in my practice with patients. As you can guess, those that look impossible, but nevertheless happened. Over time, with the help of scientific discoveries, it was possible to understand something, but something was not.

- And how many such successes?

The Doctor laughed.

- Not. I'm afraid that in the near future we will not even understand why people who have experienced clinical death describe the same thing.

Matvey Vlasovich returned the notebook.

- I must say that the further I go, the less I understand even the case with my grandson. But I can promise we'll let you know if we find anything.

- What do you have in mind?

“My sons and I will try to contact the donor. Not only to thank, but also to talk.

The surgeon considered.

Are you sure you will find it?

- Let's try. He is now connected with us by blood.

- Good luck then!

***

On the way home, Matvey sat in the back seat, next to his father. He tried once again to prove to his father that he had not left the hospital yesterday, and why he was not found, he does not understand. The father, after listening to him, changed the subject:

- What kind of album do you have?

This was brought to me by my classmates. For drawing. They thought that I would be stuck here, they decided not to be bored, I would draw.

- And How? What happened?

- Yes, I will keep a few drawings as a keepsake. Here, take a look if you want.

Igor opened the album. Portraits of roommates. Nurse on duty. Winter view from the window. And a few drawings of a stranger in a shaggy hat and beard. Very tall. On his feet were fur boots. These are often worn by pilots in the North.

- And who is this?

- I do not know. Just a man. I think I've seen him somewhere.

- Where? In the hospital? Yesterday?

- Probably not. I do not know for sure. Seems like I've seen it before. Not yesterday.

Igor gave the album to Matvey Vlasovich.

"Daddy, do you know this man?"

The drawing was not sure, but there was no doubt: he depicted the one about whom the family was now talking all the time.

So this is our donor. Georgy Mikhailov. But, Matvey, you say that you met him once. Not yesterday. But there, in the village, you could not see him. You were unconscious. And then, when he woke up, he had already left.

- Weird. For some reason, I often think about him. That's all day yesterday.

Artyom suggested:

- Maybe, after all, Matvey was not unconscious all the time when this Mikhailov appeared in the hospital. At first I forgot about it, but then I remembered. They say it happens.

Matvey Vlasovich thought about it.

- It happens. But he entered the office where Matvey was given a blood transfusion without a hat, jacket, and even more so without boots.

Matthew got excited:

Again, you don't believe me. Now I will have to prove all the time that I am not lying and not inventing. What if I don't want to?

The father hugged his son.

- You don't have to prove anything. We believe you. In two days we are going to the village. We want to thank the doctors of the hospital, we need to get acquainted with your donor. Then you will see him. Do you want to go too?

- Oh sure. It is interesting to see the road along which my grandfather drove me in a sleigh.

— Were you in a sleigh? And the fact that he then dragged you in his arms through the snowdrifts, don’t you remember?

- Of course not. He was probably already unconscious. But then my mother told me when she was on duty in the hospital. I couldn't sleep, so she entertained me.

***

The house was quiet and warm. The whole spacious table in the kitchen was occupied by wooden trays with dumplings. Grandmother, Matvey's mother and Artyom's wife were preparing a festive dinner.

- How are you? - asked Matveya Evdokia Alexandrovna, hugging her grandson, - does your leg hurt?

- Not. It doesn't hurt anymore. Nearly. I also learned to walk on crutches.

"That's good, but you won't need them soon."

Lyudmila suggested to her son:

"Do you want to go up to your room?" Rest after the road?

- Well, I do not. I want to go to the yard. Take a walk. Or into the forest.

Lyudmila pointed to the window:

- What forest? Yes, even in the yard the wind will blow you away and sweep with snow. Don't invent.

Matvey Vlasovich stood up:

He has been living without fresh air for a long time. Of course, you need to walk a little. It’s too early for the forest, but let him walk around the yard with me. I was just about to go to the stable. It is necessary to bring Batyr out at least for a while.

- Well, only if so. Let it go for a while.

Matthew, do you want to come with me?

— Yes, how.

- That's what we decided. While you are collecting on the table, we will return.

Turning back to his grandson, Matvey Vlasovich saw how he was already closing the front door behind him.

- Here's a rush. You won’t keep up with you, grumbled the grandfather, you didn’t have enough to slip.

But all fears were in vain. The teenager easily walked on crutches, not paying attention to the rather strong wind and snow in his face. Barely keeping up with him, Matvey Vlasovich again noticed how he had changed. Has grown and was distributed in shoulders. The winter jacket he had recently bought was clearly too small for him.

Batyr met them with a quiet neigh. Joyfully "danced" in the stall. At first, he reached out to Matvey Vlasovich, but then unexpectedly laid his head on Matvey's shoulder.

“This is the number,” commented the grandfather, “he missed you.” This is what I didn't expect. It seems that there was no special love between you.

Matthew sparkled with real joy.

“I don’t know about him, but I really missed him. Oh, it would be spring. You and I will go to the Irtysh. To the taiga

Matvey Vlasovich pointed out to his grandson a ray of sunshine that flashed at that moment from a small window almost under the very ceiling of the building.

- Look. Your words hit God's ears. The snowfall is over.

Taking Batyr out of the stable, they hardly restrained him. The snow blinded my eyes. The spacious yard, the fir trees behind the fence, the roofs of the house - everything around was shining. And the air smelled of spring.