A car-planter. Эйваз Махмуд оглы Зейналов
I made a little dog-hole for Bozlar in the yard and the dog lived there. But it was very clever dog. It was sensitive dog and always devoured my every word.
Bozlar began to run barking and I followed the dog. I found the baby on the hill, which was in front of our house. He was safe and sound. He was in deep sleep. I thought that someone wanted to steal the child but could not, because Bozlar noticed and prevented.
It was very strange. When I was going to take the baby home, Bozlar again began barking and whining. The dog prevented me to move getting under my feet. I thought that Bozlar was showing its joy.
My wife met us in the path with tears of happiness on her eyes. She embraced the baby kissing and caressing.
Bozlar did the same with my wife getting under her feet. The dog did not let her move.
I was so foolish thinking that someone stole my baby. Who could do it? I did not remember that I had any enemy. I did never do harm to anybody. Doubt began to creep in, as I had no idea.
Not long after the baby disappeared again. I went out just to make sure. Darkness was creeping up when I noticed the silhouette crawling to the hill. That was Bozlar. The dog was carrying my son Nuryaghdi in its mouth. I was surprised. What was the matter? Why did the dog carry the baby to the hill? For what purpose the dog that had never entered the house, that day carried the baby from home?..
When I took the baby away from Bozlar, the dog again prevented me getting under my feet and barking. It did not openly let me take the baby home. The dog was fussing about something, smelling the air and howling loudly. But I didn't know what all the fuss was about!
I thought that the poor dog run amuck. If so, I would be able to kill it. I kicked the poor thing a little bit and tied with cord to the pillar. The dog could not get calm. It was digging the ground. I was horrified because of Bozlar’s terrible howling. We could not sleep turning to the left and right. At last, my wife said:
– Man, go and set the dog free from cord. It will let neither us nor neighbors sleep till the morning.
I got up grumbling:
– Bad dog! I’ll show you!…
The dog did not let me approach. I was going to beat it with a spade but felt sorry for poor animal. At last, I took it to the dog-hole with kind words and closed the door, which I had made of reed. I put a big pillar behind the door in order the dog could not open it.
Bozlar was angry with me but I did not pay attention to it. To tell the truth, I was in a bad mood. I went to bed but the dog did not stop howling.
Suddenly I opened my eyes by the stab of pain. The big log had fallen on my head. My hand became bloody when I touched my head. My head was badly wounded. At that moment, I felt that someone was pulling my shirt. That was Bozlar. The dog tried to help me to stand up. My wife was moaning under the logs near to us. There was shouting for help everywhere. At first, I did not understand anything. I came to myself, threw the logs aside and stood up.
Our house was thrown down. We were remained alive thankful to the iron heads of the beds. I helped my wife to draw herself up. She was still moaning. She forgot about her pain as soon as she remembered her baby. She began to shout and cry. I turned the house upside down but could not find the child. Bozlar, was still observing me, suddenly understood that we were looking for something. It whined and ran away towards the hill. It was calmed down.
My son was in deep sleep on the hill unaware of the world.
His swaddling bands were in blood. That was the place of dog’s mouth and teeth. I ran towards Bozlar. The dog’s mouth was full of blood.
When I turned back, I was horrified seeing our housing estate ruined. All houses destroyed. The well-known Ashgabad earthquake ruined our housing estate. There was a slum on its place.
It turned out Bozlar knew about that terrible disaster in advance.
When the dog wanted to open the door it gnawed the reed which cut its mouth, entered the house through the opened window. Then Bozlar took the baby from the cradle and carried him to the hill.
SALTY WATER
Zaur’s father used to go to the nearest lake in for fishing at weekends. Once he took Zaur with himself.
They made tent on the bank of the lake. Father was fishing and Zaur was walking around. There was a little river near the lake. It was flowing into the lake. Everything was new and interesting for Zaur there.
In the afternoon, they made a bonfire to cook fish soup. Father gave him a bucket to bring water.
Zaur walked down along the river. He thought that there was much water in the lake.
Father wanted to drink a glass of water before making soup. When he wanted to drink, he coughed.
– Where have you brought water from, sonny?
– From the lake. – Zaur answered.
Father shook his head and said:
– It is my fault. I had to tell you know beforehand about it. You had to bring water from the river.
Zaur was surprised:
– What is the difference? Water is water everywhere …
– There is a great difference, sonny. The water of the lake is salty. It is impossible to drink it.
Zaur did not believe his father. He tasted the water. It was really, salty. He was interested and asked his father:
– Why is the water of the lake salty, dad?
– Because, the lake water evaporates for centuries but the salt in the composition of water remains. It makes the water of the lake salty.
– Are all the lakes salty, dad?
– No, my son. There are many lakes with drinkable water. But they have flowing water. It means that the rivers, which flow into the lake, bring salt with them. But the rivers, springing from lake, carry the salt with them. This lake does not have flow.
– And what about seas and oceans?
– There is much salt in the water of seas and oceans.
Father poured the water out of the bucket. When he wanted to walk down for bringing water, Zaur prevented:
– Let me bring water, dad.
He took the buckets and ran to the river.
CONFESSION
I had just returned from work. I was lying on the sofa and having rest after dinner. My little daughter carefully approached and began walking around me. I grasped that she wanted to say me something.
– Can I massage your knees, dad? –She started to massage my knee without waiting my answer. I sometimes massaged my knees because of pain in them.
I knew that she used trickery. She was going to ask me something.
– Dad, why do they make such bad pens?..
Now everything was clear to me.
– Which pens, my girl?.. – I asked.
– The pens which you write with.
– I wonder how do they make them?
– So-so… – She drew her voice.
– But how?..
As she saw that my patience gave out, she said:
– They break down while touching them.
I understood that she did something bad. That was why she was going to give advance notice me.
– Which pen is it? Which part of the pen have you broken?
– The back of it.
– Bring it me.
I was not mistaken. That was my pen. She had taken it from my writing-table.
– Do you see, dad? How badly it was made!
The little girl was trying to deny her guilt.
– Why