A truck driver picked up an old woman on the road who had escaped from a nursing home in search of her son.

ДЕТИ

— Borislav!

Borya flinched. He didn’t like being called by his full name. All his colleagues knew him as Borya and never addressed him by his full name. The person who just called him was clearly looking at his passport.

Borya turned around. At the door stood Vera Igorevna, the accountant. She had been working at the company for only a few months and from the first day, she literally pursued Boris, but even she never called him by that name. The man tried to hide his displeasure, but apparently, it didn’t go very well because the woman was literally growling with rage.

— Vera Igorevna, is something wrong?

— What — no? Are you saying that everything is fine?

«He probably saw the passport and realized that her interest would lead nowhere,» he thought and said: — Vera Igorevna, perhaps you could explain? Is there something missing from the documents?

— What documents? You’ve been confusing me for so long!

Boris noticed how the drivers in the next office quieted down and slowly started to approach the office where Vera was screaming louder and louder.

— So, I really don’t understand what’s happening.

— You understand everything. I, like a fool, stood here pleading before you, and it turns out you have a woman waiting at home.

— Well, I’m sorry, of course, but we’ve never discussed each other’s personal lives, so why would I tell you about who I have at home?

— You have no decency. It’s not listed in your passport. You’re deceiving her, you deceived me.

— You know what… I haven’t deceived anyone and I never promised you anything. And why are you even accusing me of anything?

— I wasted my time on you, and you… And you have…

Boris left the office and headed for his car. There wasn’t much time left until New Year’s, and he didn’t want to spend the holiday behind the wheel. He slowly drove onto the road.

Boris always loved his job. A big truck, the highway, the flickering towns and villages. Only on the road did he feel in his element. He just didn’t like the winter: the road wasn’t the same, and the car was hard to control.

A few hours later, it got dark, and he stopped at a large parking lot, where, besides him, there were about a dozen trucks like his. He figured he was on schedule and had time to rest and gather strength. He moved to the sleeper, lay down, and drifted into his thoughts.

«Really, why haven’t we registered our marriage with Galya?»

Boris and Galina had been together for over 10 years. When they met, he was sure that a stamp in the passport didn’t change anything. He was then disillusioned with women and serious relationships. But Galya was not like the ones he had met before. She changed his views, but he never decided on marriage. Galya wanted it but didn’t demand it. He was sure that with a stamp, he would lose something important, valuable, something that their union depended on.

«I wonder, if we had registered our marriage, would we have lived together so long? And if it’s so important to her, why doesn’t she talk about the wedding? Damn. Seems like I’m getting old, thinking all this philosophical nonsense.»

Boris realized he couldn’t sleep and reached for his phone. He quickly dialed a number and heard Galina’s anxious voice on the line.

— Borya, how are you? Is something wrong?

— Hello, no, sorry. — He glanced at the clock and realized it was almost two in the morning. — I just haven’t heard your voice for a long time.

— I’m waiting for you, — she replied softly and calmly. — Come back soon.

— Alright, good night.

Boris hung up and fell asleep instantly.

The trip went smoothly. He was free and happily realized he would make it home for the holiday. There were only a few hours left to drive, and he wanted to get to the warmth and comfort of home, so he decided not to delay. There were still a few hours until dawn, but he couldn’t sit still, so he hit the road.

As always, villages flickered past the window, and the wheels rolled mile after mile. In the pre-dawn hours, there were no cars on the road, so he drove without delay. He passed another village and about ten minutes later noticed something on the side of the road. He slowed down, and as he got closer, he realized it was a woman, or more precisely, an old grandmother. She didn’t notice the big truck passing just a meter away from her, she didn’t even flinch.

Boris had heard that truckers often encounter random pedestrians or those who want to escape life under their wheels. But he saw neither fear nor despair in this grandmother. It was as if she was walking down the street on her own business. He, not understanding why, slowed down and stopped. A couple of minutes later, the grandmother caught up with the truck, and he got out.

— Hello. What are you doing here at this time? It’s dangerous to walk on the roads at night. And it’s cold.

— Yes, my dear, it’s not May. But I need to. It’s urgent, so I’m walking.

— What’s so urgent that you’re walking on the highway? And where are you going? Maybe we’re headed the same way? Although, there’s only one road, so hop in, I’ll take you as far as I can.

— Thank you very much.

The grandmother quickly climbed into the truck, and Boris returned to the driver’s seat and pulled away.

— So, where are you coming from and where are you going? — he asked, watching the elderly woman rub her frozen fingers.

— Well, I escaped and am going to my son. It’s his birthday today. I thought I’d make it. Even if I don’t, at least I’ll see him.

— Oh, it’s my birthday today too. I thought I was the only one unlucky enough to be born on December 31. And what do you mean you escaped? From where?

— You just passed a town, there’s a nursing home there. I escaped from there. They fell asleep, and I quickly packed up and left.

— So what were you doing there, if you have a son? How did he put you there?

The grandmother lowered her padded scarf, and Boris saw that her head was almost completely gray. Now he understood that she was at least 70, no younger, although by voice and movements she seemed younger.

— I’ve been living there for years. It’s like a prison there. They take your money, don’t let you go anywhere. And if you dare to complain, you’ll be left without food.

— That’s terrible… Isn’t there any way to hold them accountable? The prosecutor’s office should be set on them.

— Oh, my dear, we tried, but no one believed us old folks. They put on such a show there that you’d want to live there yourself. No one bothered to investigate, and we got punished afterward. So, we sit there and keep quiet, not to make trouble.

— But how did it happen that with a living son, you ended up there?

— My son is alive, only he thinks I’ve been gone a long time. His father told him that, and me. So I’ve been suffering. I got married young, had a child. He was just starting out, but quickly made something of himself, became a big man. Everyone was afraid of him. And so was I. He became very cruel. I stayed at home, went nowhere. And one day he came and said he didn’t need me anymore. He kicked me out and took our son. He said if I tried to find him, I would only make things worse for myself and for the child. What else could I do?

— So, did your tyrant die?

— Yes, that’s what Irochka said. There’s a nurse there in the nursing home. A good girl, kind. She helped me. When I decided to find my son, I turned to her. She dug around on the internet and told me that my husband had died a long time ago. So I decided to find my son and tell him everything. Irochka found the town where my husband and son lived. Though so many years have passed, I hope to find him there. Or at least find out where to go next.
When the grandmother named the city where her son lives, Boris thought about how many events in this woman’s life were similar to what had happened in his own life. The grandmother continued her story:

— My husband and I initially lived well. When we were expecting our little boy, we couldn’t come up with a name. We kept arguing: he liked one, and I liked another. When he was born, we decided to give him both names. He wanted to name him Boris after his grandfather, and I really liked the name Slava. So, we ended up with a son with the unusual name Borislav.

Boris nearly let go of the steering wheel upon hearing this. He hit the brakes abruptly. The frightened grandmother looked at him and shook his hand.

— My dear, what’s wrong with you? Are you feeling ill?

— No, everything’s fine. Just tired. Let’s stop and take a break.

Boris gathered his strength and drove to the nearest rest stop.

— You sleep here, there’s a sleeper, it’s warm and comfortable. I’ll stay here.

The grandmother moved back, lay down, and quickly fell asleep, while Boris watched her and remembered his childhood.

— Where’s Mom? — asked the boy, ready to cry.

— Son, you’re old enough now and should understand that things are complicated for adults. Your mom… she fell in love with another man and won’t live with us anymore.

— Does she not love me anymore? — the boy asked, unable to hold back his tears.

Boris remembered the pain and disappointment that filled his soul back then. He couldn’t believe that his loving and caring mother suddenly left him and disappeared. He tried to understand, but his child’s heart refused to believe in the betrayal of a loved one.

His father convinced him that they would be happy together, and Boris eventually got used to the idea that he no longer had a mother. When he grew up a bit more, he brought up the subject again.

— Dad, I want to see Mom.

— We’ve discussed this already. She’s not coming back to us.

— I wasn’t thinking about that. I just want to look her in the eyes. I want to understand why she did this to me.

— I’m sorry, son, but it’s not possible. She died not long ago. She lived on the other side of the country and that’s where she’s buried.

At that moment, his world collapsed again. He had been holding on because he believed that one day he would see his mother and get an answer to his question. But now he had lost hope. Boris grew bitter towards his father, towards everyone around him. He got involved with a bad crowd and spent most of his time on the streets, and when he came home, he faced his father.

Their relationship deteriorated completely. The boy finally saw his father’s true nature. He beat him, cruelly and with pleasure. Boris saw the smile when his father looked at his son’s pain-distorted face. After another beating, Boris couldn’t take it anymore and left. The staff at the orphanage were surprised when the son of a wealthy and influential father asked to be taken away.

The next day, his father was in the director’s office of the orphanage, spitting with rage. He yelled, threw papers around, banged on the table, but the boy remained under protection. A little over a year later, Boris was called into the director’s office, and the man with a sad look informed him that his father had died. He was driving and got angry when someone overtook him. Deciding to prove his superiority, he sped up too much and lost control.

Boris graduated from the orphanage, got an apartment, and stayed living in that city. Years passed, memories faded, and he completely forgot that he ever had a mother. But, seeing this old woman, seeing her eyes, he felt something stir inside him.

— Could it really be her? Could such things happen? Lost in memories and anxiety, Boris didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. He woke up when the sun shone on his face. He opened his eyes and saw that the woman was sitting on the sleeper, watching him attentively.

— Oh, you’re awake?

— Oh, your car keeps blinking and hissing.

— It’s supposed to. Everything’s fine. Did you sleep well? Then let’s have some tea and hit the road.

Now, as he looked at this woman, he truly saw his mother. These were the same eyes he remembered from childhood, the ones he had longed to see to get an answer to the most important question of his life.

As they approached the city, the woman began to get ready. Pulling on her scarf, she said:

— Just drop me off somewhere here. I only know the city, I don’t have an address. I’ll go to the administration, maybe they can help?

— Who’s going to help you today? It’s New Year’s Eve, everyone’s celebrating. And where would you go, with two weeks of holidays ahead? Hold on a second.

He pulled out his phone and called Galya. He said he wouldn’t be coming alone, and without any questions, she agreed. She even laughed that there would be someone to eat all that she had prepared.

— I also wanted to say that you’re the best. To say that I love you. And also, that right after the holidays we can get married if you want.

She was silent, and Boris heard her sobbing.

— Galya, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to? I’m not forcing you.

— I want to, Borya. I love you very much too.

Boris hung up the phone and returned to the car. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the house.

— Oh, where have we arrived? — the old woman asked.

— Home. We’re home. It’s a holiday after all. Where would you go?

— Oh, what are you talking about, — the woman shook her head. — And your wife will be against it, — she resisted, nodding towards Galya, who had come out onto the porch.

— She won’t be. She’s the best. You’ll like her.

The woman looked at him in surprise, and Boris turned away. He realized he needed to tell her everything. Even then, as soon as he understood that it was him she was looking for. But he couldn’t. He was afraid. He felt like the same little, scared boy who for so many years had forbidden himself to say the most important word a child could speak.

«I’ll say it at home. It’s calmer there, with Galya by my side. There I can say it,» he thought as he led the woman into the house.

Galya, seeing the guest, stepped back. She smiled strangely and looked at Boris in surprise. The woman entered the house.

— It’s nice here. So cozy. You can tell there’s kindness and love in this house.

— Borya, aren’t you going to introduce us? — Galya asked.

— Yes, of course. This is Galya, my wife. Galya, this is my mom.

The woman gasped, looked at him, and began to slowly collapse. He caught her just in time. A couple of minutes later, she came to her senses. Galya and Boris stood by her side.

— My dear son. I believed I would see you. I couldn’t understand why your eyes seemed so familiar to me. My heart wasn’t mistaken.

— Yes, when I saw you, I immediately understood everything, — said Galya. — You have the same eyes, and he looks a lot like you.

— Well, that’s good, son. I’ve seen you now. Now I can die in peace.

— What are you talking about? On the contrary, we’re going to live now, just as I’ve always dreamed.

— No, son, take me back. I’ll stay there; I’m used to it already. I just wanted to see you. I won’t get in the way of your family. You have your own family, and I…

— You’re also my family. You’re not going anywhere; you’ll stay with us, — said Boris, looking at Galya.

— Of course. You still need to enjoy the wedding, — Galya smiled. — And you can look forward to grandchildren.

Boris flinched and looked at Galya. She stood smiling at him.

— Yes, Galya, give me a daughter! — he said and lifted her in his arms.

Making wishes at the New Year’s table, each of them thought long because everything they had each wanted had already come true.