“These route tracks are so scary, dirty, worn out that it’s disgusting to even touch them,” a truck driver who parked a truck near one of the cafes on the outskirts of Pavlograd told the author of these lines. — Personally, I don’t resort to their services. It happens that one of these stands near the car, moves away, and then for several hours a terrible smell lingers in the cabin. But some other drivers use prostitutes. He got really hot - he ran, took off the first one he came across, paid her, did his job. And then he walks around and regrets: he worries that he might have caught some kind of infection.” ...Having learned that the police are conducting a preventive operation in the Dnepropetrovsk region " Night city", the correspondent turned to the head of the Pavlograd GO with a request to help prepare material about prostitution in the Western Donbass region. He willingly agreed to help.
Highways have chosen the entrance and exit from the city
Together with GOM-1 district police officers Denis Zaika and Alexander Zubov, we go to Dneprovskaya Street. The police explain that the highways are mainly located along state roads along which truckers drive.
Such women are immediately visible - they are degenerate alcoholics or drug addicts. They engage in prostitution to earn money for the next dose of alcohol or drugs. They usually stand along the highway, most often in the cafe area at the entrance and exit from Pavlograd. Sometimes - in the area of the bus station. When offering their services to drivers, highway operators often take the initiative and approach the cabins of parked trucks themselves.
But that evening we did not see a single “night butterfly” along Dneprovskaya Street. The district police officers explained that the day before, Operation Night City was carried out, during which several prostitutes were detained. Information spread quickly in their circles, so they are still afraid to go out on the track.
Meet the driver
To find out more, I go up to the cabin of one of the “trucks”. The driver, without noticing me, is packing some things. I knock softly on the window. The man looks out and gives an appraising glance for a few seconds. Then he opens the door with a look of surprise on his face.
— Good evening“I tell him with a smile. — Can I borrow a few minutes of your time?
“Mo-o-o-o-o...” the driver answers with even greater surprise and a smile, continuing to examine me from head to toe.
I explain that I am a journalist and am preparing material about prostitution in our region. Therefore, I would like to talk to him about this. There is obvious disappointment on the man's face. The smile instantly disappears, and he immediately answers seriously: “I have nothing to tell, I don’t use their services.” However, when I explained that I was not interested in him personally, but simply in the drivers’ point of view on this problem, the man relaxed a little and agreed to talk.
Trucker's revelations
“There are few such prostitutes in your region,” he said. — There are a dime a dozen of them on the ring road in Kyiv. There are also many in the Donetsk region. By the way, there are often young children there - 12-13 years old. Their services are used not only by truckers. Often, “cool” foreign cars also drive up there.
If we look at the regions of Ukraine, then most of the “shoulders” (that’s what drivers call routers - author’s note) are in western Ukraine. Apparently, this is due to the fact that it is much more difficult for people to find work there. Many girls are driven to do this by poverty.
In the 90s, and even in the early 2000s, there were much more prostitutes on the highway than there are now. These days, many of them sit in cafes along the road and wait for one of the men to approach them. They are visible immediately. What normal girl would sit alone in a cafe in the evening and drink one glass of cola or a cup of coffee for a long time? — the truck driver explains knowledgeably.
— How much do router services cost? - I ask again.
— Sexual intercourse costs 40-50 hryvnia on average, and oral sex costs 20-30 hryvnia. It all depends on how the prostitute evaluates herself.
On the Internet - repair of intimate items
Trying to find out as much as possible about the intimate services provided in our region, I launch a search on the Internet. Quite quickly I find a candid photograph of a girl in beautiful underwear. It is signed that this is Galya from Pavlograd. Below the photo are the girl’s parameters: age, weight, height, breast size, as well as the price: $70 per hour and $150 per night. However, the ad was posted on the Internet back in 2003, so the price may have changed since then.
Then I look for a whole Dnepropetrovsk sex portal. There are a lot of similar ads here: for men, women and even married couples. Many of them have photographs. True, I never found any offers from Pavlograd, Ternovka or Pershotravensk. The only service offered by a certain Pavel from Pavlograd is “comprehensive repair and lubrication of dildos.” At the same time, the author of the ad adds: “I guarantee decency and anonymity.”
150-300 hryvnia per hour
I tried to call back or send SMS messages to some of the telephone numbers indicated in the advertisements, but the subscribers were unreachable. No one responded to emails either. However, judging by the comments under the advertisements, people interested in this topic know which establishments to contact. And they even advise each other where the services are cheaper and the girls are better.
The most intimate services are offered on this sex portal in Dnepropetrovsk and Krivoy Rog. As for the prices, they range from 150 to 300 hryvnia per hour. These are the so-called girls (or boys) made to order, as well as sauna prostitutes.
Prostitutes of Western Donbass
And about. Alexei Zabolotny, head of the criminal investigation department of the Ternovsky District District, willingly agreed to talk about what types of prostitution exist in Ukraine and which of them are most relevant for Western Donbass.
According to Alexey Zabolotny, there are five main types of prostitution in Ukraine.
Foreign exchange
The most expensive, elite, so-called currency prostitutes. As a rule, these are young girls from about 18 to 30 years old. Beautiful, well-groomed. To improve their appearance, they often resort to the help of plastic surgeons. These prostitutes work in expensive hotels. They serve mainly foreigners or wealthy businessmen. Their services cost $300-500 per night. However, 60-70% of this money is taken by pimps.
An organized criminal group (OCG) that provides clients with hard-currency prostitutes usually includes: the organizer himself (pimp), a dispatcher who takes orders by phone, a driver who delivers girls to the place of call and one or more bouncer guards. However, this type of prostitution is not typical for small towns. It exists in large regional centers. This type of prostitution has been well known in the CIS since Soviet times.
Girls to order
In newspapers you can often see advertisements like: “Girls are bored...”, “Do you want to have a good time...” and the like. Anyone will understand exactly what services are offered in this way. The way girls work to order is quite simple. The client calls the specified phone number and orders a girl. IN major cities The work of these prostitutes is again supervised by an organized crime group, which includes a pimp, a dispatcher and a driver. In the provinces, girls often work for themselves on order. Or, it happens that the functions of a pimp and a dispatcher are performed by the same person. And delivers to Right place prostitutes are regular taxis.
Girls made to order are usually young (18-30 years old) and attractive. Of course, the appearance requirements here are lower than those of currency prostitutes. But, nevertheless, these are pretty girls who take care of themselves. The cost of their services is up to 300 hryvnia per hour. The larger the city and the higher the income of the population, the more expensive such girls cost clients.
Sauna prostitutes
These are girls (18-30 years old) who serve clients in saunas. In large cities, men who come to steam and relax are often offered to choose a girl. For ease of selection, the client is provided with an album with photographs. Having chosen the prostitute he likes, he pays for the services and gets what he wants.
Sometimes several girls are brought out to especially respected clients at once so that they can be examined from all sides and even touched. Thus, wealthy men choose prostitutes for recreation.
In small towns the system is slightly different. Here girls usually sit in a cafe next to the saunas and wait for their finest hour. As a rule, the administration of the establishment is aware of what is happening and has a percentage of their income. Clients simply enter the cafe and negotiate directly with the girl. Also, saunas often have telephone numbers where you can order prostitutes. The cost of services of sauna prostitutes is approximately the same as that of girls on order.
Routers or shoulder straps
These girls usually offer their services standing along national highways. As a rule, these are already lost alcoholics or drug addicts. Quite often, degraded prostitutes from the previous three elite types become routers.
IN in this case It is difficult to name age criteria. Both girls 15-16 years old and women 35-40 years old can take to the track. It all depends on the circumstances that led them to this.
As a rule, these prostitutes practically do not take care of their appearance. They go to the track to earn money for the next dose of alcohol or drugs. Many of the trassovics have previous convictions. They are often registered with a venereologist. The cost of the services of these prostitutes is low: from 10 to 50 hryvnia.
Station
These prostitutes are actually at the very bottom of life. Usually these are dirty, sunken creatures with bluish faces. It’s hard to call them women at all. These are homeless women who are ready to give themselves to anyone, anywhere (even in a public toilet) for a bottle of cologne or a hundred grams of vodka.
Often the services of these prostitutes are used by men who have recently been released from prison after a long period of imprisonment.
In addition to the five types of prostitution listed above, there is also child prostitution - when people become prostitutes completely young girls(14-18 years old). Appeared not long ago the new kind prostitutes who go “on tour” abroad.
P.S. In the Western Donbass region, in small provincial towns, prostitution is much less common than in megacities. After all, many residents here know each other by sight, and the girls feel an elementary sense of shame...
Did Ivan Kuprin know that the plot of his story “The Pit” would be relevant in the 21st century? Although the girls who provided sex services in a private brothel in the Malinovsky district of Odessa were unlikely to be familiar with the work of the great Russian writer. Moreover, most of the young priestesses of love have not even reached adulthood.
For more than ten years, Vladimir, born in 1972, made money by running brothels. According to information available to police officers, he set up brothels alternately in different areas of the city, in Lately having settled in his own three-story house of eleven rooms. In the basement of the house there was a bar with a large number of drinks. Clients first relaxed, then admired the girls and chose a girlfriend for the night. This service cost $100.
Girls were recruited to the brothel, of course, not in Odessa. Former prostitute Natalya, a resident of the city of Alexandria, Kirovograd region, was engaged in the supply of live goods from the province. She once worked for Vladimir herself, but then she gave birth to a child, and the pimp was forced to let her go home. But with a condition - she must work for him in another way - recruit girls. Which is what Natalya did. Of course, she did not tell the young residents of Alexandria the truth about what they would have to do. Therefore, there were enough people who wanted to go to Odessa to work as cleaners, barmaids or waitresses. Alexandria is a small city, there are few opportunities to get an education or find a job there.
For each recruited girl, Natalya received $100. I didn’t shell out money for their tickets to Odessa. She negotiated with the conductor, gave him the girls’ passports, Vladimir met them in Odessa and paid for the journey. Once in his house, the girls gradually realized that what they had to do was not exactly what they had expected. However, no one particularly raised the alarm. Vladimir took them to the “7th km” industrial market, where the girls dressed up to have a marketable appearance. We received $25 per night with a client. Where can you earn that kind of money in Alexandria?
The girls' clients were foreign sailors. Vladimir, who knows a little English language, came to the port in his minibus (by the way, how he entered the territory where a special pass is required, the police are finding out), or waited near the exit from the port for sailors who went ashore and intended to take a walk around the city. He invited them to have fun with young girls; he invited the clients who agreed to get on the bus and brought them to his home. There the sailors drank, the girls danced in front of them, undressed - in general, everything went according to the program, as in the brothel described by the classics. And then the guests were led to their rooms, that is, to rooms. Early in the morning, Vladimir woke up the sailors and took them to the port. But along the way, he increasingly began to listen to complaints that clients discovered money missing in the morning. Vladimir, understandably, was worried about this. Or rather, what was disturbing was not the fact that money was missing from the guests, but the fact that the girls took the stolen goods for themselves and did not give them to him. Therefore, he decided to use repressive measures. He forbade the girls to leave the house, searched them regularly and set prices for the food they ate in the kitchen. He charged $2 for a bottle of cola and a dollar for a serving of potatoes.
“Police officers found this brothel as a result of an operational development,” said Alexander Petrik, head of the department for combating crimes related to human trafficking of the Main Directorate of the Ministry of Internal Affairs in the Odessa region.
At the time of the arrest, there were 9 girls and 4 clients in the house, as well as the owner of the brothel. The police officers have complaints only against one of the prostitutes, who was the eldest over the girls, she testifies. Six priestesses of love turned out to be minors, so the detainee is prosecuted under two articles - organizing, running a brothel or pimping, as well as pimping or involving minors in prostitution. So Vladimir faces about 10 years behind bars.
“It is quite difficult to be convicted of committing such crimes,” says Alexander Petrik. — Since, in addition to the testimony of the girls, it is necessary to detain the suspect at the time of transfer of money. Moreover, the bills must be marked. In addition, the investigator asks to present even used condoms as evidence.
As for Natalya, who supplied girls to the brothel, she is accused of human trafficking; the punishment will be determined by the court.
Six underage girls, who have not experienced the joys of their first youthful love, are now under guardianship public organization"Faith. Hope. Love” - this is what both the girls themselves and their parents decided. They live in apartments of this organization, the addresses of which are unknown even to police officers. The girls undergo a course of psychological and medical rehabilitation, then go to Kherson, where free courses are organized for women of this category. They will be able to choose a profession as a hairdresser or secretary, or learn to work on a computer. That is, they will find a profession that will help them earn money not only with their own body.
Police officers have information that this underground brothel was far from the only one in Odessa, so work to eliminate such establishments continues.
AT THE NEIGHBORS
What must happen in a woman’s life for her to decide to sell herself on the road? The reporters asked this question to the girls of easy virtue who stand on the Barnaul highways - in Russian outback. Below is a report on prostitution in the provincial Ukrainian cities of Pavlograd and Odessa.
Roadside prostitutes appeared in Barnaul several years ago. At first they could be counted on one hand, but then it exploded! Girls came to work, as a rule, from regions of the region or other cities. At first they were “on duty” wherever they had to, but then, after studying supply and demand, they grouped themselves in the most profitable areas.
Today, at any time of the day and in any weather, you can meet them on Anton Petrov Street (by the way, not far from the A. Nevsky Church), Popov Street (Dokuchaevo), on Leninsky Prospekt and in the area of the 8th city clinic. We drove through these hot spots.
Lucy with a black eye
Roadside “moths” are one of the lowest castes in the hierarchy of prostitutes. Perhaps only the station “priestesses of love” are listed below. And their prices are appropriate - they charge from fifty rubles and above, depending on the services provided, external data and age.
Some Barnaul prostitutes are fifty or sixty years old, and yet they pose serious competition to twenty-year-olds. The first one who catches our eye is Lyudmila Vasilievna, or simply Lyusya. That's how she introduced herself. She is forty-seven years old, although she looks older.
Lucy hides her eyes behind black glasses.
“Yes, the client beat me, my eye is swollen and won’t open,” she explains.
Lyusya says that she has only been involved in sex work for a year. I lived with my husband for twenty years, divorced, recently bought an apartment for my daughter in installments, I need to pay it off.
“My daughter is 25 years old, she doesn’t do anything for me,” Lyusya justifies herself. “I recently got her off the needle, but she’s just gotten involved with bad company again and is injecting herself again.”
At first you can’t tell where Lucy is telling the truth and where she’s lying. She claims that from morning to evening she sells fruit at the Old Bazaar, and only then goes out onto the road. But she doesn’t look like a merchant at all: a swollen face covered with cheap cosmetics, a persistent smell of alcohol... I wonder what kind of clients Aunt Lucy has?
“I currently have about 50 thousand debt for the apartment,” continues Lyusya. - It’s a lot of money, as soon as I pay it off, I’ll get out of the way.
When asked about earnings, he answers evasively:
- It depends. This month I earned seven thousand, but that’s in addition to the market. And on the road... On the road yesterday, for example, I took thirty rubles, and the day before yesterday - five hundred. I'm an older lady.
— Can’t you find another job? - we ask.
- A janitor, or what? Oh come on! I don't want it for pennies.
The girls from Koshcheev Street told her to go out onto the road. They regularly confuse themselves in order to earn money for drugs. According to Aunt Lucy, young prostitutes do not offend her; she herself will offend anyone she wants. But sometimes it comes from clients: once they put her in a cellar, another time they beat her with sticks. But, despite everything, she goes out onto the road again every evening.
“Mom finds out and kills”
Aunt Lucy's competitor is a young girl in a miniskirt and with a cigarette in her mouth, Valentina. She recently turned 22 years old. Valya is a typical representative of road prostitutes.
“I started working on the track five years ago, I was seventeen then,” she says, not without pride. — My schedule is from 12 noon to 24 pm. I work, then I go to my friend’s place, with whom I live.
The girl is not local, she came from the Topchikhinsky district. I used to work (although now it seems that it was in someone else’s life) in a regional hospital.
When asked why she didn’t go to the village to work, she answers:
- Am I a fool to work as a milkmaid for one and a half thousand a month, when here I earn almost three per day!
Valya's parents work on a collective farm and don't even know what she does.
“My mom is just gold, if she finds out, she won’t survive.”
Valya told her mom and dad that she met her in the city wealthy man which provides it. The parents believed their smart daughter and didn’t ask her anything else - as long as everything was fine with her.
- Judge for yourself, what should we take from village alcoholics and womanizers? - she reasons.
Valentina says that she tried to leave the track and did not work for a whole year. It turns out that a guy met her, fell in love with her, and took the unfortunate woman off the road. Great love came to the girl, just like in the famous American film “Pretty Woman”. Only the ending is not like that.
“I loved him very much, I gave birth to a child from him.” But then he was hit by a car, and I was left alone with my daughter, of course, I went on the road again. The child died, I couldn’t get a job because when I was pregnant, my purse with documents was stolen at the station. It was necessary to restore, wait for a birth certificate from Irkutsk region. There is nowhere to live. There are no documents. If I had a passport, I would quit this activity and find a job...
A pitiful story! You may shed a tear. And later in the conversation she contradicts herself:
- You see, it all drags on, like slot machines. Now I definitely need to go out on the track, I can’t do it otherwise.
In her case, “I can’t” means “it doesn’t work out.” There is no romance at the bottom. They go to the panel to earn money. And this money is so dirty that you won’t be able to wash it off in your entire life. It’s clear that girls come up with ideas to justify themselves various stories, and many then begin to believe in them themselves.
Valentina lives with a married friend, who regularly goes out to the track with her every day. True, she tells her husband that she is only Valya’s pimp.
We ask:
— They say that most of the girls who work on the highway take drugs?
— Many of them are drug addicts, almost all are visitors. I know girls from Biysk. One of them has a drunkard’s mother, and the girl ran away from home. Another stepfather is pestering her - she left for Barnaul. Vika’s stepfather raped her, she ran away with her 14-year-old sister and is now “working” on the highway. Ksyukha and Olesya ran away because of their mother: she was selling them to the men for a bottle of vodka.
But money helps you quickly forget about everything. Especially when it's a lot of money.
— After work, I live for my own pleasure. Let’s do the math: I “go” 150-200 rubles at a time. During the day it’s more expensive - 200-250. So it turns out - 2-3 thousand a day,” Valentina proudly reports. - Is it worth it or not?
What will stop it?
Preventive conversations with roadside prostitutes are a useless exercise. Other measures are needed. The law does not stipulate liability for this type"work" activity. For example, the district commissioner on whose territory moths “work” has the right only to conduct a preventive explanatory conversation with the girls about the dangers of their lifestyle. They nod their heads understandingly and continue doing the same thing. They develop, as doctors say, a drug-like addiction. IN normal life units are returned. Most of them pass away. They get hooked on needles and die from an overdose, die at the hands of clients, from sexually transmitted diseases, or take their own lives.
Used materials from the newspapers “Popular Vedomosti” (Dnepropetrovsk),
The car skidded at a turn so that it screeched terribly with its brakes and flew into a ditch with a squeal and roar, almost turning over.
- Well, bitch, I almost caused an accident because of her! - the driver of the foreign car shouted in fear and surprise, clutching the steering wheel with his white fingers.
- Don’t worry, calm down. Everything is fine, alive, and the car is intact, why are you fussing? - I said from the back seat, hitting my shoulder hard on the ledge.
- No f... you give! Nothing!.. What if there were craps? Because of which? Because of some slut! – Shurka, the driver of the car, was fuming.
“What’s the matter, explain it clearly,” I didn’t understand. - What kind of slut are you talking about? You didn’t fit into the turn, Shurik, and you’re looking for the culprit?
- Which turn? She, the bitch, threw herself right under the wheels...
- Where is she?
- I know. Maybe it's lying in the bushes.
Shurka and I jumped out of the car. God forbid they really shot down...
- But here she is! – Shurik screamed and hit some girl in the face who was barely standing, a little behind the car.
The girl collapsed to the ground.
- What are you doing, Sashka, stop it! Why are you fighting? – I shouted, quickly running up to Shurik. - God forbid, you start kicking out of anger. I can’t stand it when women are beaten, whether they are right or wrong, I don’t care. “You can’t hit them,” was my rule. Shurik really intended to continue the execution, jumping up to the woman who had fallen face down. I barely had time to grab his hand.
- Stop it, I say, or else! - and I showed my fist. - I’ll shine so much light between the eyes that it will hurt a lot!
Shurik retreated.
- Well, the bastard, she almost sent her to the next world, but she’s moved as if nothing had happened!
- Come on, we’ll figure it out now.
I approached the woman and touched her shoulder.
- Get up, no one will touch you, I promise.
The woman continued to lie there. Only a rare twitch of her shoulders indicated that she was crying or laughing. Maybe she’s some kind of psychotic, or a drug addict, now there are a lot of different ones...
“Get up, get up,” I already grabbed the edge of the long cloak and began to lift the woman. Don't be afraid, Shurik won't touch you again. Really, Shurik? - I asked the driver, who gradually walked away.
“Fuck it...” Shurik swore dirty again.
- Did you hear that? That's it, I'm sorry, let's get up.
The woman finally began to calm down and raised her head. And then I was stunned. In front of me was a girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, just a teenager, with still plump lips and a red trickle of blood on the edge of her mouth. But the children’s gray eyes looked so sad and angry that I felt uneasy.
- Shurik, it’s a girl!
- Girl! I know such girls. A roadside ****, not a girl. Shoulder, I guess.
- I don’t understand, who? – I asked again.
- Shoulder. Wow! Prostitutes are called that way because they work for truck drivers. After fucking, they fall asleep on the shoulder, and they drive like that the whole way - the driver is driving and the girl is on the shoulder. Hilarious!
Shurik came closer, looked at the girl and blinked his eyes in a daze.
“You, you, you...” Shurka choked at the words spoken. “Yes, this is Katyukha,” Shurik babbled, still not believing his own eyes.
- Do you know her? - even more than Shurik, I was surprised.
Shurik fell silent, not knowing what to answer. He was silent for a minute, then shouted angrily:
- Katyukha, my cousin, Uncle Yura, daughter.
- Which guy Yura? – I didn’t understand.
- Yes, the son of grandfather Stepan. Uncle Yura is in prison now, and this is his daughter.
I silently began to examine the girl. “But she’s beautiful, and in some ways she looks like grandfather Stepan,” I noted to myself.
“How did you get here?” Shurik yelled again, having come to his senses. - What are you doing here on the highway? I almost hit you! Why did you throw yourself under the wheels, you fool?
Katyukha was silent. She wiped her face with a handkerchief, stood up, shook off her long and dirty cloak, found a mirror, and began to preen herself as if nothing had happened.
- Will you answer me, or do you want to hit me in the face again? – Shurik shouted again, running up to the girl from behind.
I managed to intercept Shurik’s raised hand.
- That's it, Shurik, that's it. Don't you dare, understand? Go, start the car, we'll be leaving now.
Shurka went to the car, walked around and got behind the wheel and started starting it.
Katyusha cleaned herself up and even lined her plump lips with bright red lipstick.
I chuckled to myself as I watched this teenage woman. The profession leaves its mark - the face must be attractive. This is the first commandment of any prostitute, the rest is secondary. “Well, but the mind is on last place“- the priestesses of love themselves like to joke.
It seemed to me completely unnatural that this very young girl became a professional in selling love. “Apparently, the second Sonechka Marmeladova,” - for some reason this comparison came to mind. “Lord, Russia, you, Russia! Why don’t you take care of your daughters, sending them on the high road to sell themselves?” But my thoughts were interrupted by Shurik:
- Come on, help me, I can’t get out on the highway alone.
I approached and, with some effort, helped the car get onto the asphalt.
- Here, order. Well, are you with us or will you stay to work? - Shurik shouted to Katyukha, who was standing aside and watching our fuss.
“No, I want to go home,” she said quietly, barely audible.
“She wants to go home...” muttered Shurik. - Come on, sit down, I’ll take you to Aunt Natasha. Let her brush your ass with a broom so she doesn’t hang around with anyone. Go, sit down,” Shurik commanded.
Katyusha obediently approached the car:
-Where does it sit?
“In the front seat, where your friends always sit,” Shurik said sarcastically.
Katyusha, without saying a word, sat down in the front seat. I, with my heavy and bulky figure, climbed back into the back seat.
“Well, go for it, Shurik, just keep your eyes open, otherwise you’ll run into someone else again,” I joked.
“Ugh, ugh, to hell,” Shurik spat over his left shoulder and crossed himself. - Save and protect, Saint Nicholas the Pleasant. “He saved me today,” Shurik said, pointing to the icon attached to the dashboard next to the steering wheel.
“Trust in God, but don’t make a mistake yourself,” I answered more out of inertia than with meaning, while solving a difficult problem in my mind: how to help the granddaughter of Stepan’s deceased grandfather?
- Listen, Katerina, tell me how you came to such a life? - I decided to take the bull by the horns.
It is known that girls of easy virtue easily break down when under the influence of drinking or smoking dope. Katerina didn’t smell of alcohol, so it was the latter. Inappropriate behavior on the highway does not just happen. And I was not mistaken.
- What should I tell you? Everything is like everyone else. My father was imprisoned when I was six years old, I never saw him again. Mom started drinking and started beating me and my two brothers. Those younger ones, so there are fewer of them, took out all their anger on me and beat me with whatever they got. Look, there’s a mark on my head that will last a lifetime,” and Katyusha lifted her hair and showed a deep scar on her left temple. “Mommy hit me so hard with the chair that they pumped me out at the hospital.” She was imprisoned for three years, and we were in Orphanage determined. It would have been better if Klava’s grandparents took it, but they didn’t give it to them - they were old. The brothers were taken to one orphanage, and I was taken to another, there were no places in that one. And the rules there are such that you either steal or become a bandit... The guys are in all directions, many are on the run, but I have nowhere to go. I endured it as long as I could. And then, our supply manager, Sidorich, assigned all the older girls to engage in prostitution. There was a boarding house on the outskirts of the city, men, especially the elderly and chocks, were pouring in in droves. They fucked the girls and gave the money to Sidorich. When I turned ten, Sidorich called me into his office, lifted my skirt and fell off right on the sofa. He says that’s it, the girl is ripe, go to work... She cried and asked Sidorich not to send me to the men. But he – no, they say, how are you going to work? “Why should I give you something to drink or feed you?” I went and complained to the headmistress Nelly Rakhmanovna, she said: “This can’t be. Sidor Terentyevich is a modest person, you slander him.” And she kicked me out the door. What was left for me? She began to spread her legs like everyone else. All night, sometimes without a break. Especially after payday, they will swarm like flies on honey... Ugh! - Katerina spat relishfully at her feet. - Listen, let me smoke!
Shurik, stunned by his sister’s story, remained silent, not knowing what to say, or whether to believe Katerina. I was sitting too. Nodules were running all over my face with anger. I wanted to go immediately and punch that son of a bitch, Sidorich, in the face so that he could wash himself with his blood. I took out a cigarette and handed it to Katerina. She flicked on the lighter, lit a cigarette, took a few deep drags, and began to blow smoke rings. After enjoying the cigarette, she continued:
“I ran away, wandered around train stations, stole... Sometimes, if I was lucky, the stall traders would give me some work—sorting tomatoes or something else.” If you earn a hundred rubles, you feel happy! I’ll buy a bun with jam, tea with sugar, and have some left over for ice cream... It’s a blast! The men pestered me, but not like in the boarding school, there was chaos there. And here it is: I want to give, I want not. Rarely did anyone rape. But the cops got fed up. One Armenian man who kept me in the stall hid me from them a couple of times. Then he says: “That’s it, go away, what do you care? You're a teenager. And they might attract me.” I left. And where to? I stood on the highway to go to my grandparents. The national people pulled up in a foreign car. “Let’s go for a ride, beauty?” We went, took her to the south, raped her with a whole gang, and almost died. She escaped, ended up in Rostov, spent the winter there, and went home. I found out that grandfather Stepan died, and grandmother Klava went crazy because of this. I went to see my mother Natasha. She has already left prison, she has taken up her life again, drinking and going for walks. She has grown old, like a witch, she has no teeth, but give me some booze and food. But I feel sorry for her, my mother still...,” the girl, finishing her cigarette, nervously crushed the cigarette butt in her fingers. - So I went back to the track. I earn money, this is what my mother and I live on.
- What happened today? – I asked as calmly as possible.
- What about today? The same as yesterday and the day before yesterday. I came to St. Petersburg, worked successfully, took in more than three thousand. On the way back, one black guy pulled up in a jeep and offered five grand. Well, I think I'll take the risk. Five thousand is a lot of money, I’ll rest at home for a week or two. I agreed. And he, the freak, gave me dope cigarettes. I worked and became so good that I didn’t understand where and what. He threw me out here, at the fork, without paying... And here you are. I wanted to stop the car, so I stepped onto the asphalt. I felt that there was no need to stop, my legs were carrying me. My head is plagued, there’s a jolt, I’m flying into the bushes, the car is in a hole, Shurka comes out and smacks me in the face... That’s all.
“Y-yes...” I mumbled, not knowing what to say.
Finally Shurik came to his senses:
- Tomorrow I’m going to your boarding school, I’ll file a lawsuit against all this bastard. Let them judge. Just don’t drift when they call you. We need witnesses, understand?
Katyusha grinned:
- You're not the first. They bought everything there, the cops, the courts, and the authorities...
“We’ll see about that,” Shurik continued. - Really, Sergeich?
- That’s for sure, Shurik, we will still fight for the guys...
- You, Katyukha, don’t go to Aunt Natasha just yet. Live with us,” Shurik continued. “There’s enough space in the hut; you’ll help your mother around the house.”
Katerina silently smiled again and nodded her head: she didn’t mind as usual, but she knew that she wouldn’t go to Shurka’s mother, Aunt Nastya. She guessed what her relative was doing and shamed her more than once. Yes, and I feel sorry for the mother. Who will need her, dear blood? Will be lost without her. No, she won't go, that's for sure.
I guessed why Katerina was smiling, and silently listened to Shurik’s heated speeches, thinking about how to really help the girl.
We arrived in Fedulovo late in the evening. We stopped near Shurik’s house:
- Shall I take you there, Sergeich?
- No, I’ll get there myself. Thank you, Sasha,” I extended my hand to him. - Helped me out while my horse was repaired.
- And where are you going? - Shurik shouted, seeing that Katyusha quickly walked away from us.
She waved her hand, saying that everything would be fine, and her thin childish figure in an absurd long cloak disappeared into the evening air.
- Here, you fool! – Shurka swore. “Okay, I’ll go to Aunt Natasha and figure it out,” he promised me goodbye.
I tried to arrange Katyusha’s fate. I found her a job in the city, rented a small apartment, and began to seek the restoration of her rights, going to the authorities every day. One fine day Katyusha called me on my mobile phone.
- Uncle Kolya, thank you for everything, but I don’t want to be a burden, and I don’t believe in justice. Goodbye... - and turned off the phone.
A year and a half later, at the entrance to Moscow, in Khimki, a pretty, well-dressed girl in short skirt, in black glasses, with brightly painted full lips.
- Would you like to take a girl for a ride, uncle?
The voice seemed very familiar to me.
- Katerina, is that you?
The girl jumped away from the door:
- Uncle Kolya!..
- Listen, Katerina, I was looking for you. Why did you leave? – I started. - Sit down, everything will be fine now, I promise you...
But the girl shook her head:
- Sorry, you made a mistake. I'm not Katerina, I'm Dina. Sorry,” she slammed the car door and walked away...
I didn’t know what to do, I jumped out and caught up with her.
- Listen, at least take the money. Well, I have ten thousand in cash here, no more. ..Let's go home, Katerina, your wife and son remember you and are waiting for you. I'm telling you right!
I began to shove money into the girl’s hand, but she waved it away and, crying, ran away.
And for a long time a dark red jeep stood on the side of the road with its flashing lights on, and a stately man walked and smoked next to him, waving his arms, as if talking to himself. An avalanche of cars with indifferent people rushed past, occasionally honking when a man ran out onto the asphalt, not knowing why...
In the side mirror I can clearly see the UAZ coming behind me.
tries to get ahead. “Come on, come on,” I slow down,
out of the corner of my vision, watching the car jump out from behind the body.
The guy behind the wheel is young, it’s clear he just got his driver’s license
courses and, carried away by overtaking, does not see the one flying towards him at all
"Muscovite" Finally saw it! God bless! I throw on the gas so that
The zealous driver quickly got into line. Not sure, as they say
don't overtake! The speedometer shows 70! However, he is not going to lag behind,
and, stubbornly pushing me to the side of the road, he hopes to slip ahead.
It honks. I found time to play catch-up, motherfucker... I'm resetting
speed, I brake sharply and almost hit the UAZ with the bumper
in the back, I stop the car. Left to full speed ahead oncoming traffic rushes by
"Muscovite". In a moment the pale driver looked sideways at my
KamAZ loaded with reinforced concrete. Pray guys that the day before
I had the travel brakes adjusted by a mechanic! When you return home, put
a candle in the church. In general, it’s scary to imagine how it could end
this is recklessness... Although why am I worried about this Schumacher:
he has his own head on his shoulders. Bye.
I lightly put the car into first gear and start moving the heavy car. Hurry
nowhere. I will arrive in Verkhnerechensk in the morning. I'll sleep like a groundhog
I'll unload and go back straight away.
This time I need to get home on time, more than ever. For a wedding.
Not my own, of course, to a friend’s. Me myself, like an older sister
He says you won’t get married until retirement. Until retirement, not until retirement, make a wish
we won’t, but he lived to be twenty-five years old, despite the fact that everything
my friends, with whom I went to dances before the army, got married a long time ago,
and some even managed to get divorced and went to the second circle.
This weekend I’ll marry Seryoga and I’ll be left alone. By the mug
There will be no one to drink beer with after the bath - everyone is family... But so
I just won’t give up my bosom friend! I'll have a blast on Seregina
wedding in full. Second month in dining events
I don’t participate - it’s all because of work: business trip after business trip,
and you can't really relax behind the wheel.
To be honest, Seryoga didn’t pick a bride for himself so well, I
I wouldn't go for something like that. And maybe he himself didn’t marry her
would be, if his relationship with Tamara had not gone too far.
She is in her sixth month.
But her friend is exactly my height. Name is Victoria. Vikoy,
Means. When we went to the registry office to submit an application, I was cultural all the way
pretended to be. I just scraped around and fawned over
bride: ah, Tamara, ah, my only friend, you only
don't be nervous, please don't worry! Like in a antenatal clinic
works, not in a technical fabrics factory. Dressed, of course
you can’t find fault with everything: denim trousers, a bright blouse “am
nature”, right on the naked body, that is. Hair is like straw, dyed,
Certainly. There's a kilogram of mascara on my eyelashes. From afar it seems like nothing
looks, but if you look closely, you feel a bit uneasy:
not a face, but a mask. But these are still flowers. I wish someone could see how she is
“Stolichnye” devours: cigarette after cigarette, like a man. Sunet
into his painted mouth: he chases and chews like toffee,
He even talks with a cigarette, only blowing smoke out of his nose from time to time.
Young, but early.
“Tomochka! Serezhenka! Ay-yay..." - he cooed near the young people,
the nightingale bursts into tears, saying, how kind I am, how
pretty. And he keeps laughing, smiling, showing off his sharp teeth.
And with his little eyes he sniffles in my direction: don’t you see, or what?
- I’m trying for you.
After the registry office, I remember, the whole group went to the restaurant. We drank
as expected. Seryoga and I, of course, vodka for the girls
We ordered a bottle of champagne. Here she is just like a fox in front of me
she came in and gave me a snack and lit a cigarette,
It became annoying that I paid zero attention to her. What about me? All for me
anyway, I can also “give from the screw.” I'm so exemplary
prudes” I immediately feel it. I found a boy! So full of compliments
and I will melt, I will break my forehead in words of love, wait more... Also pride
I have. Yes, and since the night I. I spent two days on the road, no fun.
However, we had to accompany her anyway. Once I became a gentleman,
there's no escape. In short, we ended up near her house. We stood there for a while.
We smoked and ran off to sleep.
Okay, I think to myself, go to sleep if you're such a prude
you are building. You can't get anywhere at a wedding anyway. I didn’t break off such people.
Prettier. I don’t have time to get into sentimentality.
One fun thing every day: spin the wheel. And I smell like gasoline
- Doesn't take any cologne. And eight years behind the wheel is also about something
They say…
After all, I sat on the lawn after driving school, and right up to the army
didn't get down. The “old lady” could barely breathe, but for three years she ran like a little darling.
During the service I had to change to a passenger car, the deputy
I drove the unit commander, Lieutenant Colonel Tarasov. He was a simple man
sociable. He loved to drink. He persuaded him to stay as a long-term conscript.
He promised to help with the apartment. Yes, apparently, I didn’t persuade him.
After demobilization, I went on a regular bus, to LIAZ.
I was young and wanted to assert myself. How did you figure out what to
why, he moved to the cargo park. Tired of walking around the city as usual,
spin. So I ended up at KamAZ. Nice car, strong.
Familiar guys from the taxi company are inviting me to change to the Volzhanka. Tempting
of course, but not for me: drive through the streets from morning till night, so that
I need more rubles, but I need space to think
get ready.
You fly along the highway, and around the field, like in the picture, there are birch trees,
pine trees and the sky right up to the horizon. Beauty! Write poetry
I want to. And I know how to get along with cars, just like with women - and because
and others require attention, affection, care. Are you on good terms with them?
and they respond in kind. So as not to lose face, I wear jeans
I bought branded ones for myself, an imported jacket, and high-heeled shoes. Though
and I don’t respect foreign rags, but I can’t live without them. They won't understand!
The same Vika from the technical fabrics factory turns up her nose. We found a witness!
Although, on the other hand, it probably couldn’t be better. All of them
on one face, like dolls.
I remember my sister had the same one at her wedding. Marinochka. Bread with a fork
she picked it up and held it with two fingers, her little finger sticking out. This
while they were sitting down at the table, and when they started leaving, they gave them milk
and they called an ambulance...
The road sign says: “Poddybe”. Just like ours
area. Our Poddybye, however, is much smaller. And the Osinovites too
there are Pereleski and Porechye. All names are repeated. a thousand
you rewind kilometers and suddenly something familiar and dear flashes by
a heart like this Poddybye.
And the village is indeed ancient Russian. Huts - like from a fairy tale, with carved
platbands. On a hillock, blackened by the crowns of dilapidated domes,
An old church peeks out. It's probably worth a hundred years. It's a pity,
inoperative, otherwise I would have gone in and lit a candle. Opposite is a club
Selmag, canteen... Maybe I should come in for a bite to eat?.. I'll have a bite to eat though
somewhere else until the evening.
Poddybye is over. The road went down. We need to slow down, it’s uneven
hour, some spree agronomist will jump out... And indeed,
someone is standing near the side of the road. Votes. Yes, I see, I see, don’t worry...
Raising clouds of dust, I drive to the side of the road and stop at two
steps away from the girl who scaredly darted away from the car.
– Can you give me a ride to Verkhnerechensk? - she screams, trying to open the door.
- Where? - I ask again, wondering how much it will cost
pleasure: after all, four hundred kilometers.
- Then to Kamnev...
It's two hundred and fifty to Kamnev.
- Sit down.
“Only I have no money,” she says without looking at me. And hair
she is tossed mercilessly by the wind. - Will you deliver?
- Sit down, I’ll take you there! – I agree, not understanding why I was so happy.
Throwing a small purse in front of her, the girl quickly climbs up
into the cabin and, slamming the door loudly, although it could have been quieter, carefully
is looking at me.
Come on, come on, study! Maybe you'll find out something interesting, right?
you'll tell me. Although what can you tell from my cotton shirt?
not the first freshness, army trousers, dusty kirzachs? Ordinary
drove. Hard worker. There is no one to show off... I look older than my age
years - so again, there are reasons: he was caught up in constant travel,
but there’s no time to shave or comb your hair. And, my dear, I would be glad to rinse myself
some key water, but where can you find this key if you’re all around?
just dust and fog? Still have questions? No. Then look at yourself
gentle, on the road, but don’t look askance at me. And say thank you
to the good uncle who planted...
- Don’t you have a penny at all?
“I have a little,” the girl tries to take her wallet out of her purse.
– But it’s still not enough to get to Verkhnerechensk, and not enough to get to Kamnev either.
will not be enough…
Well, tell me, please, who goes on the road without money?
And even so far away? Okay, I planted it out of the generosity of my soul. Who
another one will meet - he will drive him into the bushes, turn off the engine and say:
“Come on, pay, my dear! Or go as a pedestrian!”
And then it dawned on me: this is what she needs! Is it decent?
will a girl ride along to vote without money?.. There are men in the garage
talked about such fellow travelers. He sits in the cab and drives instead
wives. I don’t have a family, I don’t want to work, but here it’s all busy. Look,
summer rolls by without knowing need or care, and by autumn somewhere
will settle in the boiler room. The drivers are kind people, they will feed you, give you something to drink, and give you a treat.
In short, not life, but romance. Our brother calls them shoulder ones, because
how they sit next to your shoulder all the way.
Out of the corner of my eye I glance at my fellow traveler: she’s sitting, modest, with her purse on
holding her on her knees, all so thoughtful... Come on, come on,
pretend while my hands are busy with the steering wheel, I’ll get there in the parking lot
up to you - just hold on!
“Let’s get to know each other,” I smile cheekily. - Semyon.
“Masha,” she turns her face to me, and I am satisfied
I notice that the shoulder one I found was nice. Nineteen years old
not more. Taking out the cigarettes, I offer:
- Do you smoke?
“Tell me,” I strike a match, and for a moment I
I can’t believe that she has a shoulder: she’s too clean, and her hair is smooth,
caught by the tail. And the construction brigade jacket is embarrassing! Although,
Maybe she put it on to divert attention? She's making a fool of herself, Masha
from Uralmash! Now there are no such names. Shoulder! By God, shoulder.
Rogozhino, stretched along the road, appeared ahead. Familiar
places. Strong log five-wall buildings, brick store building,
school, again a church. Beyond Rogozhin the road went through the forest. Pulled
coolness and pine needles. Breathe - you won’t inhale. Burning raspberry
the sun got tangled in the branches of huge pine trees, announcing the approach
twilight There were almost no oncoming cars, and I was collecting dust in the middle
roads at top speed.
- So you need to get to Verkhnerechensk? Consider yourself there.
“Thank you,” answered the fellow traveler and, after a pause, added: “But then
I need to go back to Poddybye. By chance, you didn't go back
will you go?
“I’ll go by chance,” I grinned. – I’ll unload and go back. Yes you are
don't worry, Masha, everything will be as in best houses London and Paris.
– Have you been to London and Paris?
– I haven’t been yet. I have a saying like this.
If before these words I still doubted whether it was shoulder or not, then,
Having learned that she needed to return back, I realized: it was definitely a shoulder problem!
“Stop pretending to be two of yourself, girl!” - almost burst out
I have, but I said nothing. Everything has its time.
So we drove on. Pending. Without talking or trying to start
a conversation no one needs. Everyone thought about their own things. What was I thinking?
It's not hard to guess. Masha was probably thinking the same thing. So to me
imagined.
To somehow distract myself from such thoughts, I turned on the receiver.
There was news going on at Mayak. Behind the glass ran a road, on both sides
where a clay field stretches to the very horizon. Above the field
Black militant rooks circled in anticipation of the rain. They're loud
they screamed as if they were about to end the world. And then it sounded on the receiver
a poignant, saddening melody. Sharp gusts escaped
general mood, as if moving away and smoothly returning back.
The melody touched something dear, deep, and, eagerly listening
into it, I frantically clutched the steering wheel braided with colored wire.
The music stopped, and Masha, sitting motionless next to her, said insinuatingly:
– This is Sibelius... “Sad Waltz” by Jean Sibelius.
“Sibelius,” he asked, as if trying to remember an unfamiliar name.
I haven't heard that.
“A very famous Finnish composer,” the girl perked up and began
talk about him.
The headlights caught the highway wet from the rain, and Masha inspiredly
revealed to me the secret charms of his music. She said,
and I listened and believed her, never once doubting the veracity of what was told.
And when she finally fell silent, I didn’t know what to say.
The windshield wipers lazily crawled across the glass, and it was then covered with rainy
drizzle, then it became clear. I peered into the darkness of the night
and drove the car tensely. Masha was dozing. I saw it pecking at the door
her head. But I didn’t want to disturb her. And yet I asked quietly:
- Tell me, please, how do you know everything? Me too for a quarter of a century
I live in the world, but I have never heard anything like this...
– You can live a hundred years of plant life and not learn anything!..
But without music, this life will still be incomplete...
“Look,” I thought. - Defective... So, Vika from the factory
technical fabrics, and I myself have a vegetable, inferior life,
and this snub-nosed girl has a full-fledged one!.. And we, naive,
We are glad that we take everything from life... It turns out that we are rejoicing in vain! Defective
our life!..".
I remembered Victoria smoking cigarettes, and for some reason I felt sorry
her... She shouldn’t smoke, of course, it would be better if she listened to music... And herself
I felt sorry...
“Is this knowledge?” continued Masha. - Here is our department head
Ibrahim Shalvovich really knows a lot about music theory...
He can talk about music all day, but how Rachmaninoff plays!..
- So you’re still learning!
- In the third year music school, And what?
- Nothing!
“Here’s your shoulder, damn it!”
In the gap between the trees the first lights of Kamnev appeared - a small
district town on the way to Verkhnerechensk. Oncoming cars are merciless
my eyes were blinded, and every time I had to huddle to the side of the road.
To be honest, I am already exhausted to such an extent that
alone in the car, I would have long ago pulled over to the side of the road and fallen asleep.
But Masha was chirping nearby. And I held on, quietly rubbing my eyes
palm.
I stopped only near the station canteen, which, if
believe the schedule, worked around the clock. Masha asked anxiously:
- Where are we?
- In Kamnev.
- What time is it now?
- Half past eleven. Shall we go get something to eat? - taking the girl by the
hand, I was surprised how warm her palm was.
“Let’s go,” she moved pliantly.
The spacious, barn-like dining room smelled of something burnt.
Service staff was absent, but from the sounds coming from the kitchen
it was clear to the voices that there were still living people here. Standing near
cash register and having studied the brief, three-course, handwritten menu,
I looked through the end door. It creaked, and those who were bored at the stove
the women shuddered in fear.
- Hello, aunties! - I said, watching how gradually
they come to their senses. -Can I have a snack?
Despite the midnight, we were fed excellently. Apparently, it’s not in vain that we’re here
Diesel locomotive drivers come in between shifts: hot Ukrainian
borscht, cutlets with buckwheat porridge, jelly. Masha was sitting opposite
me, and I saw her tired gray eyes, her bangs falling over her forehead.
The women from the kitchen stood not far away and, it seemed to me, with undisguised
They studied us with curiosity. I even heard out of the corner of my ear what they were talking about:
- Tea, husband and wife...
– Who knows? You'll soon figure it out... There's my niece,
He’s not yet eighteen, and he’s already blond with his gentleman...
- Nadya, or what? Early girl...
- So I say, mother’s milk on my lips has not yet dried...
- And these, apparently, are not from here...
- Not from here.
Leaving the dining room and sitting comfortably in the cabin, I turned the key
ignition, wearily squeezed the clutch, and we rushed into the darkness. On
I didn’t look at my traveling companion. Taking advantage of this, Masha closed her eyes
and dozed off. But she didn't have to sleep. “My lady too,” I thought
I. “I attacked the wrong one.”
- At least she could sing something! – I said rudely.
She raised her eyes in surprise and, taking my request as a joke,
closed again.
- Sing, I say! – I repeated. – Is it a waste of time to study in music school?!
And then something makes me sleepy! Sing! I kindly ask...
- What will happen in a bad way?
- Nothing. I’ll pull over to the side of the road and fall asleep.
She said nothing. And I thought it was time to move from words to action.
I'm not cast from cast iron either. She found the fool and goes. And then it happened
miracle: leaning forward with his whole body and looking into the dank cold
far away, Masha sang, quietly, as if to herself:
It was as if something was shrinking inside me, and a cold, unbearable melancholy
my chest filled with something unattainable and dear...
Masha sang. And I squeezed the steering wheel until my hands hurt, as if I was afraid,
that the car will take off from the ground and soar into the starry sky.
One song gave way to another, but it didn’t make it any easier.
I felt uneasy. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before.
Star attraction continued to act.
So we got to Verkhnerechensk.
The city was sleeping. The night streets were drowned in the smells of July greenery. As if
unsolved crossword puzzle cells, staircase windows were burning
in the same type of block houses. Masha lived in one of them.
- Senya, are you really going back today?
- Is it true.
I realized that we were landing...
- Will you take me with you?
- Necessarily.
“Then please stop near this house.”
I stopped the car. Masha jumped to the ground:
– What time should we expect you?
- At half past two…
The girl disappeared like a dream.
Squeezing the clutch, I rushed like crazy along the deserted street.
The supply base for reinforced concrete products was located on the outskirts
city, and I, turning off the engine to the side of the gate, fell onto
side. The road was pretty tiring, and I slept, as they say, without sleep.
legs, until there was a knock on the cabin:
- Hey, comrade! You will sleep through the entire kingdom of heaven! – heavy as a deck,
a middle-aged woman was banging hard on the door.
- Something happened?
- Is he alive, I think? The car is parked, but there is no driver...
I looked at my watch: half past two! Can't be!
- Auntie, how long is it for your gold coins?
- Half past one, uncle!
That's how I slept! Now we urgently need to unload and fly after Masha!
Thoughts about my fellow traveler did not leave me even in my sleep.
I flew into the base, dragging incredible clouds of dust behind me. It seemed
the earth itself burns under the wheels. Looking for the best way to land
to the gantry crane, I, playing with the steering wheel, rushed between the stacks
jumpers and ceilings, directly under the slings dangling on the hook.
The crane operator, as I expected, of course, was not there. Didn't show up
and after I persistently signaled for three minutes,
Bulgach around the whole district.
“That’s bad luck!” – I cursed the crane operator. And so as not to lose
precious time, he rushed headlong into the office with the invoices.
I was lucky there. Exclusively everyone on whom the signing depended
papers were in place. But the crane operator did not appear. I was running around
searching for her throughout the base, asking everyone he met where she was
May be. No one knew. The workers shrugged their shoulders, and only
one woman suggested that Zina had been getting ready since lunch
stay late - there is no one to leave my granddaughter with. She has chickenpox...
The clock hand dropped to half past three, and I had no choice
nothing else but to drive an unloaded car to a waiting
I'm Masha. However, the watchman strictly standing guard at the gate, like
I neither begged nor agreed to release the car with reinforced concrete.
I had to go to the head of the base for permission. I was rushing up and down the stairs
and the corridors, and it seemed to me that I simply could not withstand such a rhythm.
Needless to say, when I pulled into the designated spot,
Masha was not there. She didn’t appear in ten or fifteen
minutes. And I thought that she just deceived me.
At half past five I was driving home.
The empty car moved easily. And, according to my calculations, it turned out that
I have to stand in the garage in the morning. Ten minutes walk to the house.
And... tomorrow they are expecting me at the wedding!..
I'll put on branded jeans, an imported jacket, shoes and show up,
as they say, from the ship to the ball...
I already clearly imagined all this, when suddenly inside me
some familiar sad melody began to sound... Its smoothly flowing
The sounds and the capricious, broken, unstable rhythm grew. I became
remember it and, cold with surprise, realized that this was
“Sad Waltz” by Sibelius, which Masha talked about... I don’t
I forgot it... I didn't forget it!
Angrily squeezing the gas pedal all the way, I drove the car to the limit.
speed. And the road, sandwiched on both sides by trees that waved all the way
the sky with trees, parted under the headlights...
“Nocturnal butterflies,” just like their prototypes in nature, are divided into several species. The most degraded ones, and therefore the cheapest ones, are more often found on the highway. It was to them that truckers firmly stuck the name “shoulder trucks.”
The origin of this word can no longer be traced by philologists, but, according to one version, the girls performed their simple duties right in the cab of the truck in the place for shift rest - that is, behind the driver’s shoulder. The most “legendary” personalities, thus, still manage to travel from city to city. As you approach the center of populated areas, both the prices and the girl’s appearance change. You can often see them in the evening even in the center of Minsk.
Their traditional places of work are the famous “hundred-meter street” - from the circus to Victory Square, but following the expansion of the city, prostitution followed the client to residential areas. The Kamennaya Gorka and Zavodskoy districts are especially “different”.
The next price level is “intergirls” who serve foreigners in hotels. An hour of their service can cost $200 or more, the Oktyabrsky district police department of Minsk told Sputnik.
Highway E28: 15 years on the side of the road
Policemen periodically conduct raids on hot spots where people gather women lung behavior. Such measures, they explain, are needed not only to stop this crime, but also to obtain valuable information about criminals who are involved in pimping and pedophilia. Prostitutes move in the same circle with them and often know a lot about them.
The police raid, in which Sputnik correspondents took part, took place during the day. It would seem what kind of “moths” can work at this time. But we were wrong.
“The most dangerous places are large junctions near metro stations in residential areas, exits from the city, especially towards Sosyny,” the operatives said.
As soon as we drove a few kilometers from Kamennaya Gorka, we noticed a girl in short shorts and bright makeup near the highway. It was clear that she was not catching a ride here.
"Shoulder" on the highway near Kamennaya Gorka
Law enforcement officers were not afraid. Professionals have long understood that paying a fine is easier than running from the police. I noticed that this was not the first time she had been caught red-handed, because she had been working on the highway for a long time.
“I started standing in this place even when Kamennaya Gorka didn’t exist,” the night butterfly said with a smile.
Victoria, as it turned out, is 35 years old. I entered the track 15 years ago. The interlocutor was forced to do this, she noted, by difficult life circumstances.
"I was left without a husband, I had to raise children. The salary at the poultry farm where I worked was small. A friend once said that his friends were coming from Russia and offered to join them. I thought about it, and then I decided on my own. The place for meeting with clients was room at the Orbita Hotel,” Victoria said.
Then she went to the track, where she still works.
Purely automatic
The prostitute looks much older than her age. Working in prostitution, she noted, is difficult. Competitors are nipping at their heels.
“They are dividing up the territory, lowering each other’s prices. Some people ride for a bottle of wine,” Victoria told Sputnik.
© Sputnik / Viktor Tolochko
When it came to the price of the service, the interlocutor delicately avoided answering. She only clarified that she works for three days and then rests for two weeks. Regarding her personal attitude towards work, she noticed that she does everything “purely automatically” and she doesn’t care what she does.
By the way, while we were talking with Victoria, an expensive foreign car pulled up next to us. The operatives explained: most likely, these were clients. There is a type of rich people who prefer to enter into intimate relationships with degenerate women.
Prostitute on maternity leave
Before we had time to drive away from the place, the next moth was caught in the net. She was younger and looked more provocative: in a short dress and stockings.
Yulia was not afraid to admit to us that she works part-time while on maternity leave.
“My personal life is in full swing. I’m on maternity leave. I don’t live with my husband, although I’m not divorced from him. I want my children to have what I was deprived of as a child. That’s why I work on the panel,” - she said.
© Sputnik / Viktor Tolochko
Yulia “works part-time” on the road while she is on maternity leave
The child is looked after by the sister while the prostitute is working. Although she doesn’t know who Julia works for. He thinks he works part-time as a waitress.
Initially, the Minsk resident began to engage in prostitution even before marriage and the birth of children. She was also forced to do this by an allegedly difficult fate.
“My mother died when I was 18 years old. I had to take care of my younger sister,” the interlocutor complained.
Will you be third?
When it came to clients, 28-year-old Yulia perked up. She admitted that before our meeting she had already served one.
“I go out for a couple of hours. During this time I leave 3-4 times with different clients,” she noted.
According to her, the most ordinary men turn to prostitutes for services. Often among them there are married people.
“The wife does not fulfill some whim of her husband, he gets ready and goes to prostitutes. He enjoys it and does not consider it treason,” said the moth.
True, sometimes a prostitute comes across quite strange individuals with exotic wishes. So, one day a car with an elderly couple in it slowed down next to her. She was offered to “be the third in their bed.”
“We’ve probably seen enough of 18+ films,” the opera laughs.
“Another time I was standing in the Kamennaya Gorka area. My grandfather came up and said: “I want you to hit me and spit in my face.” I usually send people like that,” Yulia noted.
The cost of a moth service is 30-40 rubles. She's sure she's getting it cheap. Although clients, according to her, do not think so and often bargain.
All diseases are from nerves, but some are from love
All women detained during the raid were taken to the department for further investigation. They face a fine.
“If a person is involved for the first time, administrative liability is provided in the form of a fine from 6 to 20 basic units. If they are attracted again, a fine of 50 basic units or arrest for 15 days,” Sputnik’s interlocutors said.
© Sputnik / Viktor Tolochko
In Minsk, not only Belarusian, but also Russian prostitutes are caught. They have been coming to us more and more often lately, the police noticed.
"Arrive at short term. They stand on the highway and post advertisements on the Internet. Since the beginning of the year, two such women have been deported,” they said.
Investigators noted another unhealthy trend - prostitution is getting younger. It is practiced by both underage girls and boys.
According to experts, this craft is more often practiced by those who suffered psychological trauma in childhood: people from large and single-parent families who were subjected to early age violence from third parties or someone from the family.
But the most dangerous thing about this phenomenon is not even the moral side. Girls, so to speak, “with low social responsibility” automatically fall into a risk group for the spread of sexually transmitted diseases and HIV infection. If it is proven that the “priestess of love” infected the client intentionally, the punishment will be much more severe. Therefore, although the police understand that such raids will not eradicate prostitution, they do not refuse preventive work (to the delight of doctors).
Internet as a source of income
Progress, oddly enough, works to the advantage of these girls as well. So-called “network” prostitution is gaining popularity. IN in social networks groups are being created called “Sex without obligations” and the like, in which minors also offer their love. There are also specialized websites where women and men pay for the opportunity to post their profiles.
© Sputnik / Viktor Tolochko
Internet prostitution is the most universal: from cheap 20-dollar students counting on casual earnings to elite “ladies of the night” who, in principle, have no payment ceiling. Here, every whim of the client is fulfilled, although outright crime is still not offered - they are afraid.
The cost of an hour of services from such prostitutes sometimes reaches a record $1,000 or more. Although, as the detained girls laughed, everyone talks about it, but in life no one has personally met such people. That's why she's apparently an "elite".
"Not only women, but also men post offers to have fun. There are also those who, according to documents, are listed as women, with plastic surgery on the chest, but with male genitals. The most different variants having sex and in a variety of companies,” the investigators said.
Such offenders are also detained: they come to their home under the guise of clients. Increasingly, foreigners are also among the clients - the 5-day “visa-free” effect has an effect. But for them, our law is more favorable; it does not provide for punishment other than moralizing. Although Belarus, thank God, has not yet become a country with developed “sex tourism”. In Europe, such entertainment is still much more accessible.
"Night grannies, who's to blame..."
Unexpected customer demands give rise to unusual stories. There are also quite comical cases. One day we arrived at the apartment of a 50-year-old “moth” (or, probably, more correctly, “grandmother”), who, having learned who she was dealing with, began to imitate a fainting fit. And the arriving ambulance team only confirmed this.
“When they later began to look into it and asked her why she did this, she replied that it was because she wanted to,” the operatives recalled.
Women go to great lengths to avoid responsibility. If they are caught on the highway, they run away. Some people swallow zippers on their jackets so that they are sent to the hospital rather than to the department. However, no one escaped responsibility. But it has not yet been possible to eliminate the oldest of professions.