IVAN SHAMYAKIN

HEART IN THE PALM

NOVEL

Doctor Yarosh stood on the roof of the veranda and whistled with his fingers in his mouth. He whistled so that it seemed that the foliage was about to fall from the oaks. A flock of pigeons circled in the sky above the dacha. Wings of the "Nikolaev Reds" were on fire. Suddenly the flock was blown away by the wind; a moment - and she is already far above the forest. And the doctor almost flew after her. He stepped to the very edge of the roof. Under the weight of it big body the pillars of the verandah creaked strainedly. The sun, rising over the forest, hit right in the face, blinded. Yarosh shielded himself from him not with his palm, but somehow childishly, with his elbow. At the other end of the roof stood his son Viktor, almost as tall as his father, but thin, thin, and long-legged. He watched the pigeons through field glasses.

Women were sitting on a bench by the well. They were occupied not by pigeons, but by pigeon houses.

Funny. Like a child. She can chase pigeons all day long, - said Galina Adamovna reproachfully, but at the same time admiring her husband.

And I like people who can get so carried away, - Valentina Andreevna responded, not taking her eyes off Yarosh.

Oh, I'm jealous, Valya!

She said jokingly and immediately felt her heart clench in alarm. Blushed.

Valentina Andreevna noticed the blush on her cheeks and turned away: she knew her friend well, her suspiciousness.

It would be to someone, Galya. I'm already an old lady. See how it melted? I should be jealous of this. My Kirill every day puts you as an example to me. Look, he says, how Galina knows how to take care of herself: slender, as if at twenty,

The full always envy the thin, - Galina Adamovna laughed, pleased with the praise.

From the veranda on the other half of the house came the Shikovichi's daughter Ira, dressed in a festive way - a bright wide skirt, a white blouse, white sandals. This light outfit suited both her slim figure and a cheerful summer morning.

Ira adjusted her glasses and also began to peer into the sky. She did not see a flock of pigeons, and wrinkling her nose contemptuously, she said:

They have been in the city for a long time, your pigeons.

Don't croak! - Victor threw from the roof.

It was the first rut of pigeons brought from the city to the dacha, and the father and son were worried - would they return?

But no matter how busy Anton Kuzmich was with pigeons, he did not let his son's words go past his ears.

Hey brother! How are you talking? She's a girl, and older than you. And you - "do not croak!".

Valentina Andreevna stood up for the boy:

Not a big lady. Like her, so with her. We are all on "you". One family.

The girl looked at her mother with an ironic smile and turned along the path to a stream that flowed not far from the dacha. Called from afar:

Natasha! Let's go to the meadow! Yarosha's twelve-year-old daughter was sitting on the windowsill, her legs hanging outward, and reading, indifferent to the pigeons, which only yesterday aroused her keenest interest. But today she was not up to pigeons. She immersed herself in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and kept laughing, her heels pounding on the wall with delight. She did not hear Irina's invitation.

Galina Adamovna said:

Natasha, your name is.

The girl did not respond

Natasha

Go with Ira to the meadow, pick sorrel.

Oh my God! Natasha sighed. - What a life in this accursed dacha! Pages will not be read by a person.

The women laughed.

Natalka! Yarosh shouted. - Do not grumble, mother-in-law. Roll like a bun into the meadow. Pigeons are afraid of you.

There is no life from your pigeons. - Natasha threw her legs over the windowsill and disappeared into the room.

Victor, meanwhile, announced: - They're flying!

Where? Where? - Yarosh stomped on the roof - “even the whole house trembled, snatched binoculars from his son, shouted joyfully: - Aha, they are flying! They are returning. What did I tell you? Little faith! - he reproached no one knows whom, because no one expressed doubts, except for Irina's remark.

A flock of pigeons swept over the pines, flew low around the house, rushed to the attic, where the dovecote was, and, frightened by the whistle of Yarosh, again soared up.

Galina Adamovna stretched, throwing her hands behind her head.

And it's good here. I haven't rested like this for a long time.

It's good when there are no guests. Guests every day. Tired. Cyril endlessly invites someone. He is bored without guests. And for me - cook and my plates. Anton! - Valentina Andreevna Yarosha called out, - Shall we go fishing?

Galina's cheeks lit up again. She was afraid of these trips with fishing rods to the river, into the dense thickets of bushes, although her husband and Valentina never had to stay there alone, Vitya, or Natasha, or Ira, or more often all three, went with them. She herself purposely did not go, so that they would not think that she did not trust or was watching. No, she really wanted to be like her husband - he believes her in everything, or like Shikovich, indifferent to where and with whom his wife goes, like Valentina ... I want to ... But she can’t. She is tormented. And, perhaps, not so much from jealousy itself, but from shame for her, for herself, for the fact that she does not know how, like others ... Yes, if he were not so good, her Anton. For the thousandth time, she admired his heroic figure, gazing into the sky after a flock of pigeons, his strong bare arms, courageous face, brown hair ... She does not know hair more beautiful. Fools are those who say that Dr. Yarosh is reddish ... If they looked closely, if they could stroke these soft hair, to hear how they smell, to press this smart head to her chest ... Like this ... She mentally hugged her husband. And then she felt a burning pain, thinking that another, strange woman could hug him. Head is spinning. As if through a dream, the words of a friend flew to her:

In the morning I ask: “Confess, Kirill, whom did you invite for today?” “No one,” he says. And I can see in my eyes that it's deceiving. I'll run away to the meadows for the day. Let him take it himself... What's the matter with you, Galya? Are you unwell?

No. Nothing. - Galina Adamovna cheerfully jumped up and laughed. But her laugh sounded unnatural. Yarosh broke away from the pigeons, looked down at his wife.

Jackdaw! What happened?

Nothing. Look who's getting close to your pigeons. She pointed to the sky above the meadow.

There, in the sky, a kite circled slowly.

Vitya! Punish the aggressor. Knock down like Powers

Father and son jumped down with equal speed. Victor ran into the room and jumped out with a gun. The boy had only recently been allowed to use it, and he was glad to show off his hunting talents on every occasion ... Bending over, almost touching the ground with his nose, he rushed to the stream with funny jumps.

Galina Adamovna shouted;

Vitya, be careful! Ira is somewhere...

Yarosh followed his son with his eyes and silently laughed.

The doves fell down. Either they sensed danger, or they saw that the owners had finally left and nothing was preventing them from returning to the dovecote. But they didn’t immediately fly into the attic, but the whole flock, noisily flapping their wings, sat on the railing of the balcony on the other side of the house.

Heart in the palm of your hand. snowy winters Ivan Petrovich Shamyakin

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Title: Heart in the palm of your hand. snowy winters

About the book "Heart in the palm of your hand. Snowy winters" Ivan Petrovich Shamyakin

Ivan Shamyakin is a Belarusian writer, public figure. The author of novels that touch upon various problems of society. Many of his works have been filmed. I. Shamyakin is the owner of various awards for his work, he has orders, a number of titles and prizes. He began to write while studying at a technical school, later his poems were published in prestigious publications. During the Second World War, the writer did not sit back, he, along with the rest of his comrades, went to the front. The work "Heart in the palm of your hand. Snowy winters” is a reflection of what happened in difficult years. Subsequently, a film of the same name was shot based on this work, which the audience liked. They warmly accepted him, because everyone could find himself in the heroes of the film.

Ivan Shamyakin in the book “Heart in the palm of your hand. Snowy winters” tells about the simple Belarusian people. The author tells how he fought the Germans for freedom. The Belarusians spared nothing and looked for new ways to defeat the enemy in the shortest possible time. Many will say that he did not do it in the best way, but the Belarusian people were devoted to their ideals and defended them to the end.

In the work "Heart in the palm of your hand. Snowy winters” the author describes not only war time. The book contains descriptions of events that took place after the war. From the work you can learn how the Belarusian people lived, what attempts were made in order to revive the former happiness and get back on their feet. In the novel you can learn about the fate real people. The author gives information without embellishment, so the book is read quite hard, but allows you to find out the truth. The heroes of the work turned out to be real, everyone has their own dreams, weaknesses. Thanks to such details, many recognize themselves in them, so it is impossible to tear oneself away from the work of the Belarusian author. With each page, new details are revealed that make you read the book to the end. At the same time, the work makes you think, because it contains a lot of historical facts. It will not leave anyone indifferent and will forever enter the heart.

Ivan Shamyakin created a real bestseller. The book "Heart in the palm of your hand. Snowy Winters” introduces readers to the stories of the Belarusian people. It is difficult, but every Soviet citizen tried to contribute to the construction of communism, so he went to the end, sparing no effort and health.

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IVAN SHAMYAKIN

HEART IN THE PALM

NOVEL

Doctor Yarosh stood on the roof of the veranda and whistled with his fingers in his mouth. He whistled so that it seemed that the foliage was about to fall from the oaks. A flock of pigeons circled in the sky above the dacha. Wings of the "Nikolaev Reds" were on fire. Suddenly the flock was blown away by the wind; a moment - and she is already far above the forest. And the doctor almost flew after her. He stepped to the very edge of the roof. The pillars of the porch creaked under the weight of his large body. The sun, rising over the forest, hit right in the face, blinded. Yarosh shielded himself from him not with his palm, but somehow childishly, with his elbow. At the other end of the roof stood his son Viktor, almost as tall as his father, but thin, thin, and long-legged. He watched the pigeons through field glasses.

Women were sitting on a bench by the well. They were occupied not by pigeons, but by pigeon houses.

Funny. Like a child. She can chase pigeons all day long, - said Galina Adamovna reproachfully, but at the same time admiring her husband.

And I like people who can get so carried away, - Valentina Andreevna responded, not taking her eyes off Yarosh.

Oh, I'm jealous, Valya!

She said jokingly and immediately felt her heart clench in alarm. Blushed.

Valentina Andreevna noticed the blush on her cheeks and turned away: she knew her friend well, her suspiciousness.

It would be to someone, Galya. I'm already an old lady. See how it melted? I should be jealous of this. My Kirill every day puts you as an example to me. Look, he says, how Galina knows how to take care of herself: slender, as if at twenty,

The full always envy the thin, - Galina Adamovna laughed, pleased with the praise.

From the veranda on the other half of the house came the Shikovichi's daughter Ira, dressed in a festive way - a bright wide skirt, a white blouse, white sandals. This light outfit suited both her slim figure and a cheerful summer morning.

Ira adjusted her glasses and also began to peer into the sky. She did not see a flock of pigeons, and wrinkling her nose contemptuously, she said:

They have been in the city for a long time, your pigeons.

Don't croak! - Victor threw from the roof.

It was the first rut of pigeons brought from the city to the dacha, and the father and son were worried - would they return?

But no matter how busy Anton Kuzmich was with pigeons, he did not let his son's words go past his ears.

Hey brother! How are you talking? She's a girl, and older than you. And you - "do not croak!".

Valentina Andreevna stood up for the boy:

Not a big lady. Like her, so with her. We are all on "you". One family.

The girl looked at her mother with an ironic smile and turned along the path to a stream that flowed not far from the dacha. Called from afar:

Natasha! Let's go to the meadow! Yarosha's twelve-year-old daughter was sitting on the windowsill, her legs hanging outward, and reading, indifferent to the pigeons, which only yesterday aroused her keenest interest. But today she was not up to pigeons. She immersed herself in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and kept laughing, her heels pounding on the wall with delight. She did not hear Irina's invitation.

Galina Adamovna said:

Natasha, your name is.

The girl did not respond

Natasha

Go with Ira to the meadow, pick sorrel.

Oh my God! Natasha sighed. - What a life in this accursed dacha! Pages will not be read by a person.

The women laughed.

Natalka! Yarosh shouted. - Do not grumble, mother-in-law. Roll like a bun into the meadow. Pigeons are afraid of you.

There is no life from your pigeons. - Natasha threw her legs over the windowsill and disappeared into the room.

Victor, meanwhile, announced: - They're flying!

Where? Where? - Yarosh stomped on the roof - “even the whole house trembled, snatched binoculars from his son, shouted joyfully: - Aha, they are flying! They are returning. What did I tell you? Little faith! - he reproached no one knows whom, because no one expressed doubts, except for Irina's remark.

A flock of pigeons swept over the pines, flew low around the house, rushed to the attic, where the dovecote was, and, frightened by the whistle of Yarosh, again soared up.

Galina Adamovna stretched, throwing her hands behind her head.

And it's good here. I haven't rested like this for a long time.

It's good when there are no guests. Guests every day. Tired. Cyril endlessly invites someone. He is bored without guests. And for me - cook and my plates. Anton! - Valentina Andreevna Yarosha called out, - Shall we go fishing?

Galina's cheeks lit up again. She was afraid of these trips with fishing rods to the river, into the dense thickets of bushes, although her husband and Valentina never had to stay there alone, Vitya, or Natasha, or Ira, or more often all three, went with them. She herself purposely did not go, so that they would not think that she did not trust or was watching. No, she really wanted to be like her husband - he believes her in everything, or like Shikovich, indifferent to where and with whom his wife goes, like Valentina ... I want to ... But she can’t. She is tormented. And, perhaps, not so much from jealousy itself, but from shame for her, for herself, for the fact that she does not know how, like others ... Yes, if he were not so good, her Anton. For the thousandth time, she admired his heroic figure, gazing into the sky after a flock of pigeons, his strong bare arms, courageous face, brown hair ... She does not know hair more beautiful. Fools are those who say that Dr. Yarosh is reddish... If they looked closely, if they could stroke this soft hair, hear how it smells, press this smart head to her chest... Like this... She mentally hugged her husband. And then she felt a burning pain, thinking that another, strange woman could hug him. Head is spinning. As if through a dream, the words of a friend flew to her.

Doctor Yarosh stood on the roof of the veranda and whistled with his fingers in his mouth. He whistled so that it seemed that the foliage was about to fall from the oaks. A flock of pigeons circled in the sky above the dacha. Wings of the "Nikolaev Reds" were on fire. Suddenly the flock was blown away by the wind; a moment - and she is already far above the forest. And the doctor almost flew after her. He stepped to the very edge of the roof. The pillars of the porch creaked under the weight of his large body. The sun, rising over the forest, hit right in the face, blinded. Yarosh shielded himself from him not with his palm, but somehow childishly, with his elbow. At the other end of the roof stood his son Viktor, almost as tall as his father, but thin, thin, and long-legged. He watched the pigeons through field glasses.

Women were sitting on a bench by the well. They were occupied not by pigeons, but by pigeon houses.

Funny. Like a child. She can chase pigeons all day long, - said Galina Adamovna reproachfully, but at the same time admiring her husband.

And I like people who can get so carried away, - Valentina Andreevna responded, not taking her eyes off Yarosh.

Oh, I'm jealous, Valya!

She said jokingly and immediately felt her heart clench in alarm. Blushed.

Valentina Andreevna noticed the blush on her cheeks and turned away: she knew her friend well, her suspiciousness.

It would be to someone, Galya. I'm already an old lady. See how it melted? I should be jealous of this. My Kirill every day puts you as an example to me. Look, he says, how Galina knows how to take care of herself: slender, as if at twenty,

The full always envy the thin, - Galina Adamovna laughed, pleased with the praise.

From the veranda on the other half of the house came the Shikovichi's daughter Ira, dressed in a festive way - a bright wide skirt, a white blouse, white sandals. This light outfit suited both her slim figure and a cheerful summer morning.

Ira adjusted her glasses and also began to peer into the sky. She did not see a flock of pigeons, and wrinkling her nose contemptuously, she said:

They have been in the city for a long time, your pigeons.

Don't croak! - Victor threw from the roof.

It was the first rut of pigeons brought from the city to the dacha, and the father and son were worried - would they return?

But no matter how busy Anton Kuzmich was with pigeons, he did not let his son's words go past his ears.

Hey brother! How are you talking? She's a girl, and older than you. And you - "do not croak!".

Valentina Andreevna stood up for the boy:

Not a big lady. Like her, so with her. We are all on "you". One family.

The girl looked at her mother with an ironic smile and turned along the path to a stream that flowed not far from the dacha. Called from afar:

Natasha! Let's go to the meadow! Yarosha's twelve-year-old daughter was sitting on the windowsill, her legs hanging outward, and reading, indifferent to the pigeons, which only yesterday aroused her keenest interest. But today she was not up to pigeons. She immersed herself in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and kept laughing, her heels pounding on the wall with delight. She did not hear Irina's invitation.

Galina Adamovna said:

Natasha, your name is.

The girl did not respond

Natasha

Go with Ira to the meadow, pick sorrel.

Oh my God! Natasha sighed. - What a life in this accursed dacha! Pages will not be read by a person.

The women laughed.

Natalka! Yarosh shouted. - Do not grumble, mother-in-law. Roll like a bun into the meadow. Pigeons are afraid of you.

There is no life from your pigeons. - Natasha threw her legs over the windowsill and disappeared into the room.

Victor, meanwhile, announced: - They're flying!

Where? Where? - Yarosh stomped on the roof - “even the whole house trembled, snatched binoculars from his son, shouted joyfully: - Aha, they are flying! They are returning. What did I tell you? Little faith! - he reproached no one knows whom, because no one expressed doubts, except for Irina's remark.

A flock of pigeons swept over the pines, flew low around the house, rushed to the attic, where the dovecote was, and, frightened by the whistle of Yarosh, again soared up.

Galina Adamovna stretched, throwing her hands behind her head.

And it's good here. I haven't rested like this for a long time.

It's good when there are no guests. Guests every day. Tired. Cyril endlessly invites someone. He is bored without guests. And for me - cook and my plates. Anton! - Valentina Andreevna Yarosha called out, - Shall we go fishing?

Galina's cheeks lit up again. She was afraid of these trips with fishing rods to the river, into the dense thickets of bushes, although her husband and Valentina never had to stay there alone, Vitya, or Natasha, or Ira, or more often all three, went with them. She herself purposely did not go, so that they would not think that she did not trust or was watching. No, she really wanted to be like her husband - he believes her in everything, or like Shikovich, indifferent to where and with whom his wife goes, like Valentina ... I want to ... But she can’t. She is tormented. And, perhaps, not so much from jealousy itself, but from shame for her, for herself, for the fact that she does not know how, like others ... Yes, if he were not so good, her Anton. For the thousandth time, she admired his heroic figure, gazing into the sky after a flock of pigeons, his strong bare arms, courageous face, brown hair ... She does not know hair more beautiful. Fools are those who say that Dr. Yarosh is reddish... If they looked closely, if they could stroke this soft hair, hear how it smells, press this smart head to her chest... Like this... She mentally hugged her husband. And then she felt a burning pain, thinking that another, strange woman could hug him. Head is spinning. As if through a dream, the words of a friend flew to her:

In the morning I ask: “Confess, Kirill, whom did you invite for today?” “No one,” he says. And I can see in my eyes that it's deceiving. I'll run away to the meadows for the day. Let him take it himself... What's the matter with you, Galya? Are you unwell?

No. Nothing. - Galina Adamovna cheerfully jumped up and laughed. But her laugh sounded unnatural. Yarosh broke away from the pigeons, looked down at his wife.

Jackdaw! What happened?

Nothing. Look who's getting close to your pigeons. She pointed to the sky above the meadow.

There, in the sky, a kite circled slowly.

Vitya! Punish the aggressor. Knock down like Powers

Father and son jumped down with equal speed. Victor ran into the room and jumped out with a gun. The boy had only recently been allowed to use it, and he was glad to show off his hunting talents on every occasion ... Bending over, almost touching the ground with his nose, he rushed to the stream with funny jumps.

Galina Adamovna shouted;

Vitya, be careful! Ira is somewhere...

Yarosh followed his son with his eyes and silently laughed.

The doves fell down. Either they sensed danger, or they saw that the owners had finally left and nothing was preventing them from returning to the dovecote. But they didn’t immediately fly into the attic, but the whole flock, noisily flapping their wings, sat on the railing of the balcony on the other side of the house.

From the window of the attic leaned out a forehead with a receding hairline, which cut deep into the growth of long, slightly curly and very disheveled blond hair.

What is the market here? - grumbled Shikovich gloomily, flashing a golden tooth. - Do not let the person work in peace ..

You, Kirill, are just like Natasha, - Valentina Andreevna laughed. We've been tiptoeing all morning. We can't do this all day.

Today is Sunday, Kirill Vasilyevich. We need to rest, - said Galina Adamovna.

Yarosh squinted slyly.

Something about your eyes are sleepy. Is it from work?

Shikovich's head disappeared. Yarosh and the women laughed. A minute later, Shikovich appeared on the balcony in green and brown striped pajamas. Scared pigeons:

Shit, damn it! Already shat, - and turned to Yarosh. - I'll give you - "sleepy eyes." Aesculapius unfortunate! What did you cut out the caecum, and no worries, drive

pigeons...

Poor humanity! How much it will lose if it does not read your article. Will the world turn upside down?