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Capter 7 of the Povest of Holder Volcano "Falling leaves"

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  Capter 7 of the Povest of Holder Volcano "Falling leaves"
  
  
  
  Funny story of the tractor driver Sultan
  
  
  - Daughter, have you collected information about the guy? -asked Rahela.
  - Yes, mother, I learned that the tractor driver Sultan from the village of "Tuyamuyun", located at the foot of the Charvak mountains. According to him, near the mountain village flows the river, which originates high in the snowy peaks, where even in summer the snow does not melt. Healing water, the air crystal clear, the village is in the verdure he says. At the foot of the snowy peaks stretch for miles, pistachio, apricot and hazelnut trees, mountain ridges covered with tall thickets of wild raspberry, old spruce forests, where woodpeckers knock, run and jump squirrels in the pine trees, the chirping of birds - in short, a Paradise on earth. Here will go there, spend a day or two, and all You have, says he, will disappear forever the desire to return home, it is here in the farm Tillaquduq. If you want You can stay there for life he said.
  And why is he leaving such a wonderful mountainous land here? How did he even get here? You did not ask him?- asked Rahela.
  - The fact that he is out of his mountain village went to Tashkent to enter the University, but he failed, and he was ashamed to go back. He decided to work here next year to try again to enroll at Tashkent State University.Prior to that, he is graduated from prof those College and received a law tractor. And he found a job here. In short, that his fate is - explained Khurshida.
  - Well, that aggravates the situation, and I'm afraid that your father will never agree to let you marry him because you're our only daughter. If you had brothers or sisters, it would be possible for you to give in marriage, at least in Canada, at least in Europe or in Africa .And I don't want you to go away in distant lands. Because without you, I can slowly fade away like a kerosene lamp, which is running out of fuel. Yes, your father is strict but he loves you more than life, and that is why he is demanding to see you. In life anything can happen. In order not to happen something irreparable, we must be very careful. Especially you. Because it all depends on you - said Rahela.
  What if he wants to stay here and live? -Khurshida asked, not looking up from his work.
  - And are you confident in this? He himself said about this?
  - No. I'm just guessing.
  - I don't know, daughter. You should talk to him about everything.A life of marriage is not a toy. Marriage is for life. But many lovers parted with their beloved, who immediately after the wedding, who later when there are differences and different issues between them. It's the fact that they didn't know about each other before the wedding. The world is a market, and life together buy. The person who want to buy something, must carefully inspect the goods. Or they can buy what he will soon have to throw in the trash. Well, let's say, you bought shoes in the store. In a day or two you feel it's too tight. Going back to the store and change them. A man is not shoes to be able to go and change. To not have to change after marriage, girls should be able to choose the right husband, after a careful examination and testing before getting married said Rahela. Khurshida thought then asked:
  - Mom, what if I bring him here? Would talk about everything specifically in your presence.
  - Not a bad option. But will he agree to this? And what will the people who see it with us? said Rahela.
  - I need to talk to him about this and bring him here said Khurshida.
  - Good - agreed Rahela.
  Mother and daughter worked until lunch, During lunch,Khurshida spoke to the tractor driver Sultan, and he agreed to go there, where Khurshida with her mother. After lunch, did not wait long, the tractor driver Sultan arrived at the appointed place. After they shook hands, Rahela the first to start a conversation:
  - I beg do not judge us strictly, son. Frankly, I know about your warm relations, and see that You are a good guy. Although I believe in You, but all the same I need to know the guy my daughter wants to link their fate. Don't get me wrong. In my place any mother would do the same. Khurshida told me about a mountain village where You come from. In my opinion everything is fine .But, you know, to confess, father of Khurshida strict man with a tough character, and I'm afraid he will not agree with me if I say that I intend to give her husband for You, since You live in a remote mountain village "Tuyamuyun". My question is as follows. Once You are accepted into Tashkent State University, You will go back to your village, or want to live in our area?
  - To be honest, Auntie, I used to think that enrolling in Tashkent State University, I live in Tashkent. After graduation, I think to go to the native village, and there to teach lessons to students at a local school. And now I have other plans. You see, that I check young and I am only twenty-five, but I'm still not married. I'd show You my passport, so both of you have seen this,
  but I left my passport at home, that is in the tractor Park, where I live temporarily. I don't want to carry all the time, both in the area where the curfew, right? he said.
  After these words, Rahela, too, began to laugh.
  - Oh, You Joker. And I, naive fool, believed. Don't You worry. I believe You, son ' she said.
  - Thank you for your trust, Auntie. To be honest, though, my name Sultan, means king, but I'm really, pathetic slave of your daughter. Now I'm ready to do anything to be with Khurshida. Not to stay in these parts, I am ready even to go to the edge of the world if Khurshida wants. Day and night I thank God for what he sent me here, and Iet such a beautiful girl like Your daughter. My life acquired meaning only after I met her. I used to be a simple tractor driver. But despite this, I read a lot for example the novel "don Quixote Lamanchas". Loved the library of our village, where always reigned peace, comfort and tranquility. Come, walk between shelves, looking at books, relax the soul. Dizzy from the fragrant smell of books, get drunk. Well, the library was for me something quiet resort, free resort, where people restore their health. Read Jack London, Tolstoy, Turgenev, Gogol, Cervantes, Hemingway, Pushkin, Kafka, Yesenin, Abdullah Kadiri, Chingiz Aitmatov and many wonderful writers and poets of world literature. Once I was asked if I wanted to earn a little in the field of sports. I grew, interesting You people of the Lord. So, who wants to earn money, especially in my situation? Of course, want. After that we went. We drove for a long time through the wilderness, crossed the desert, went to the trailer of the truck, "lorry" of the Stalin era through the mountain passes, where we were being chased by the mute moon. A torn piece bedspread fluttered in the wind like a tattered flag on Mars. Finally arrived in a city. Walked into a building where there were people - a full house. There I was told to take off my clothes. I stand, then, in his shorts and holey t-shirt. They put my skinny arms like sticks, Boxing gloves, and one of them, says he, I am Your coach, Mr. Trendeldinov, and You will participate in the world championship on Boxing. Then I accompanied with healthy big boys went to the side of the stage, enclosed by ropes resembling a sheep pen. When everyone walked out on the stage, that is, in the ring, I left my opponent, a short, bald referee with a goat's beard. When the referee introduced us, I was surprised to see his rival, with overly large heads and slanting eyes. The opponent reminded me of Bigfoot, and he continually jumped up and down. His muscular body, from head to toe was covered with tattoos. He drew on his body, the devil knows what: naked mermaid, an octopus, a dragon, devil, Rhino, skull, cemetery, graves, crosses - in General, a gallery of creepy paintings. Despite his scary appearance, he seemed a good, honest, helpful friendly honest God-fearing man. Finally it was the long-awaited Gong. You see, slash the opponent hits me. I said that You, dear scythe rival, beat me?! That said, have I done wrong?! And slash the opponent instead of stop and apologize, even stronger began to beat me. Well, I think things... Crazy to some. A patient who just escaped from a psychiatric hospital. He hits and I'm freaking out screaming, through crushing blows. Wanted was to turn to the undersized bald referee with goat beard, but he could not, began to poison us with each other:
  - Fight! Fight, grit, scum fighting dogs, rabid bulldogs and pitbuli in human form! Kill, gnaw, grit, throat each other, tear, grit, meat ripped up!
  I said, shame on You, comrade undersized bald still narrow-eyed referee with a goat's beard?! Then slash the opponent hit me in the face, and I almost fell. Look - my coach, friend of Trendildinov, also looks with interest and does not take the necessary measures of intersection to solve problems peacefully sitting at the negotiating table.
  - Help, people-All! Christians! Jews! Muslims! Bhuddists! Godless atheists -Communists! Well though someone! - I shouted to the whole room.
  But my voice disappeared in the noise of onlookers. And people used to to separate us, on the contrary shouting in unison:
  - Go-RIL-La! Go-RIL-La! Cross eyed gorilla, kill the skinny boxer with hands like sticks!..
  Well, I think, really, not a bit of pity left in this world. Well, to my happiness, came the long-awaited Gong, saving me from the apparent death. I was moving on all fours, barely reached the stool, which was missing one leg. Sitting on a stool, my nose broken, eyes lined on his forehead a lump a size of a lemon, mouth dripping bloody saliva as the count Dracula. Breathe. Suffocating. Give, grew, water. The coach opened the thermos and pours me a cut in a Cup of boiling water. I said, well, You are a greedy miser, where, grew the sugar?Eaten?
  - Oh Yes! - remembered my coach friend of Trendeldinov, and pulling from his pocket bodysuits sugar "Comrating", throws in a glass. Coach Trendeldinov, says he, let's chug it down to the bottom, sugar, helps alert, which had lossed a lot of blood in the ring. Then I started to rush, let's gryat faster, they say, the second round started. And again sounded the Gong. One pot-bellied woman in a quilted jacket with a short, curves and skinny legs in a dirty canvas shoes without soles walked across the stage, raising high the banner with the words "Round 2". I said, comrade coach Trendeldinov, but may not be necessary, they say, stop this bloodshed? Coach, says he, no, not Sultan. People, grit, bought expensive tickets with great hope to see a bloody hand to hand combat modern Gladiator with a fatal outcome. We, says he, now, is doomed. If you pause the fight, the crowd, grit, very angry and could attack us and trample, stoned. Can even apply to us in the Basmanny court, so we returned them the money they spent from the family budget to buy expensive tickets. You, says he, must fight to the end. Then I drank the second glass of water, got up, and again started beating him in the literal sense of the word. When the blows intensified, I began to suspect that slash the opponent whether wearing iron gloves, or inside the glove he put lead knuckles. I'm covered in blood, yelling wildly, beckoning for help, but no one, unfortunately, never responded to my call. In the skull of my head came a solid crack from where a red fountain spurted blood. Bald and diminutive referee with goat beard did not run in the paddock and was driving around in my blood, like ice skating at the arena and shouted, pitting us all against each other. Then, to my luck, the doctor asked to suspend the combat, to cover a crack in my skull something and bandage tape, and that skinny athlete (me) can die, and the carnage will stop earlier than scheduled, greatly disappointing the audience. Only then the referee decided to give me a break. After examining my wound and measure its width and length by using a hand caliper, and the doctors were so scared, pale face as the boy was attacked by a vicious dog. In their conclusion, the crack in my head was so dangerous that through the crack was visible to my brain, like a walnut kernel. Doctors quickly after consulting among themselves, decided to cover the crack of my skull antiquated way, and they put her back a towel. When the towel disappeared in my head, they've sealed the gap with tape. Then let me again return to the ring and fight to the end. But I could no longer fight, as I lost consciousness and fell. In-about-from, so please forgive me if I say silly words that you don't like, -finished his funny story Sultan, wearing his skullcap, which he kept in his hand. After hearing his story, Khurshida and her mother laughed heartily.
  - A joke is a joke, but I do not intend to part with Khurshida, even in that light, if not ask about it me she said the tractor driver Sultan.
  
  
  
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