He was retired, his savings were only enough for a modest funeral.
Lyudmila ran out into the corridor.
“Olja, be as kind as you can.”
“Mom…” he almost shouted into the phone.
“Lyudochka, where did you come from?”
I have a mortgage, you know.
I’ll transfer five thousand, I can’t afford more.
He called everyone.
A pitiful little pile of money had accumulated in the account.
And then Lyudmila, with tears in her eyes, took out her wallet.
The green ATM in the corner kept blinking, as if mocking him.
Lyudmila inserted the silver card.
His fingers wouldn’t obey, he entered his own birthday number twice.
The screen finally loaded.
Lyudmila froze.
He thought he would receive some kind of “compensation” – maybe two or three hundred thousand rubles.
But a number appeared with so many zeros that the world went dark before it.
There was the price of a five-room apartment in the historic downtown.
With a trembling hand, he opened the transaction history.
Viktor transferred a certain amount on the fifteenth of every month.
There was not a single omission.
Two years, twenty-four months of quiet, unnoticed care.
There was no pathos in the notes.
They said: “They promise frost for winter boots”, “Lyuda, happy birthday, buy something delicious”, “For vitamins for mom”.
The last transfer arrived three days ago.
He didn’t just hit him.
All the while, he held an invisible dome over her as she played the role of “strong and independent” in her one-room apartment in Kupchino.
The payment at the checkout was completed in just a second.
They took the mother away.
Lyudmila stood at the window, watching the raindrops hit the glass.
His hand dialed the number on its own.
“Yes,” Viktor answered immediately.
His voice was tired, as if he had just come out of a long meeting.
“I saw the card, Vitya.”
I saw the transfer history.
“Are you paying?” – remember I said that in the registrar’s office?
God, what a fool I was…
The line went silent.
The noise of the city could be heard in the background.
“Mom is at the doctor,” Lyudmila breathed.
“The money in the account was enough.”
Not.
“I’m going now,” he said shortly.
Forty minutes later he was at the hospital.
Without a tie, in an unbuttoned jacket, not at all like
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