Red Moscow

As the middle-aged female painter said, after passing a Mumu restaurant, we saw the used bookstall.

The used bookstall occupied a space that was not very spacious but large enough to accommodate many book lovers. In the middle were several old wooden tables put together, piled with yellowed books. The ground around was covered with plastic sheets, and thousands of old books were neatly placed.

A bald middle-aged man sat on a low stool, staring at the customers around him who were picking old books. Maybe the customers who picked books read more but bought less, so his eyes looked particularly melancholy.

Sokov came to the bookstall, but did not squat down to pick books immediately, but wanted to know the prices first.

He glanced at the stall and saw a paper sign next to it, which read: Books on the ground, 100 rubles for three books; books on the table, 100 rubles for one book.

"Boss," Sokov saw that there were at least four or five thousand books on the used bookstall. If he looked for them one by one, he would never find them. So he walked up to the middle-aged man and asked politely, "Excuse me, do you have any military novels here? It would be best if they reflect the Great Patriotic War."

"Yes." The middle-aged man nodded, pointed to the table and said weakly, "Grigory Yakovlevich Baklanov's "One Inch of Land" and "Forever Nineteen Years Old", especially the latter one, which won the Soviet State Prize in 1979."

Sokov had never heard of the writers and works mentioned by the middle-aged man, so he asked tentatively, "Are there any other works?" Home? For example, works by Simonov, Chakovsky, Vasilyev and other writers? "

"Yes." The middle-aged man pointed to a corner this time: "There is Vasilyev's "The Dawns Here Are Quiet". I have a lot of military novels at home, but I didn't bring them out because there is limited space here. If you really want them, I will bring those books tomorrow. "

Hearing the middle-aged man talking about "The Dawns Here Are Quiet", Sokov's heart was moved. He secretly said that he had published this novel in that dream-like time and space. I wonder if the author of this book is himself or the original author Vasilyev?

He walked quickly to the corner, and after some searching, he found "The Dawns Here Are Quiet". Seeing the words "Boris Vasilyev" written on the cover, he couldn't help but smile bitterly, thinking that it seems that everything he experienced in the underground fortifications was just a dream.

At this moment, he suddenly heard someone calling him from behind: "Misha, Misha!"

Hearing this hurried and familiar voice, Sokov turned around abruptly and looked in the direction of the voice.

Next to the used bookstall was a second-hand goods stall, on which many old items were placed, such as old-fashioned dial-up telephones, waist-high radios, piles of old cameras, and wooden tables that looked old.

On the table was an old-fashioned TV, and someone on the screen was anxiously calling his name.

After Sokov saw the person on the screen clearly, he was stunned: the person calling him was actually Yakov. He was calling his name non-stop at this moment, his face full of anxiety.

But when Sokov hurried to the table and wanted to communicate with Yakov on the TV, the screen suddenly went black, and Yakov, who was calling him, disappeared without a trace.

The owner of the second-hand goods stall was an elderly man. He saw Sokov rush to the table and repeatedly looked at the TV series placed on it. So he came over and asked politely: "Young man, do you want to buy a TV?"

"I just saw someone talking in this TV."

The old man was stunned at first, then he said with a smile: "Young man, you are really joking. This TV doesn't even have a power cord, how could someone appear in the TV."

After hearing what the old man said, Sokov also checked carefully and found that the TV really had no power plug. He couldn't help but ask curiously: "Since this TV has no plug, what is it doing here?"

"Some people like old things," the old man replied: "I like things that have a sense of age in the past, and put them at home as decorations."

Sokof muttered to himself, is it possible that he has hallucinations?

With such doubts, he walked back to the owner of the second-hand bookstall and said politely: "Please help me find "One Inch of Land" and "Forever Nineteen Years Old"."

The owner stood up, searched in the pile of books for a while, then took out two books with yellowed covers and handed them to Sokov.

Sokov took it and saw that it was indeed the two books he was looking for. He quickly took out his wallet and asked the boss: "Is it 200 rubles?"

Unexpectedly, the boss shook his head and said: "500 rubles per book, two books for a total of 1,000 rubles."

"Doesn't your sign say that the books on the table are 100 rubles per book?"

"The starting price is 100 rubles, and there is no upper limit."

Seeing that the bookstall owner went back on his word and wanted to take the opportunity to raise the price, Sokov naturally didn't get used to his bad habits, so he put down the book and turned around and left.

Halfway, Sokov took out his mobile phone, entered Baklanov's name to search, and found that this person had served as a director and standing committee member of the Soviet Writers' Association and editor-in-chief of the "Flag" magazine. He participated in the Great Patriotic War, was awarded the rank of captain, and graduated from the Gorky Literary Institute in 1951.

In the late 1950s, he began to write novellas describing the Great Patriotic War. He wrote "Nine Days", "One Inch of Land", and "One Death Covers a Hundred Ugliness". His works mainly describe the "trench reality" of ordinary soldiers and junior officers in local battles and their psychological states during life-and-death tests, becoming one of the representative writers of the "trench reality school". His "One Inch of Land" is considered to be a representative work of the "trench reality school" along with Bondarev's "The Last Bombardment" and Bekov's "The Third Flare".

After looking up information about Baklanov, I happened to come to the painting stall. At this moment, the middle-aged female painter was also finishing the sketch of Anna.

"Misha," Anna called Sokov's name and asked with concern: "Did you find the used book stall?"

"I found it." Sokov nodded: "But there was no book I wanted, so I came back. How about it, how long will it take you to finish the painting?"

"Sir, please wait a moment, it will be finished in a few minutes."

Sokov did not urge, but stood by and waited patiently.

Soon, the female painter finished the last stroke, and then handed the finished product to Anna, smiling and asking: "Miss, do you like it?"

Anna took the portrait and looked at it carefully. She did not express her opinion immediately, but pointed the painting to Sokov: "Misha, what do you think of this painting?"

People who can set up stalls to paint on Arbat Street usually have several brushes. Drawing a figure sketch like this is not easy. Sokov nodded and said repeatedly: "Not bad, not bad. The painter cleverly uses the contrast of light and shadow to highlight your facial features, and uses soft brushstrokes to depict the lightness and elegance of your clothes. The lines in the picture are smooth and rhythmic. Whether it is the softness and elegance of hair or the wrinkles and textures of clothes, they are all meticulously expressed. The painting is really great."

The female painter couldn't help but smile knowingly when she heard Sokov's praise. As a painter, it is the greatest affirmation for her to receive praise from others for her work.

After Sokov took Anna away from Arbat Street and returned to his car, he asked tentatively: "Anna, where do you want to go next?"

"Didn't you agree to let me go to your house tonight?" Anna looked at Sokov and asked unhappily: "Have you changed your mind?"

"Anna, you misunderstood." Sokov said calmly: "I'm just worried that you will change your mind and don't want to go to my place, so I asked you a question."

On the way, Anna asked curiously: "Misha, most people read books nowadays through computers or mobile phones, and few people buy physical books. How do you think of buying old books?"

"The books on the Internet are quite complete," Sokov said, "but some old books published decades ago can't be found on the Internet at all."

"Oh, so that's the case." Anna said: "If you really want old books, I can think of a way for you." After that, he took out his mobile phone from his bag, "I'll make a call to see if I can find old books."

Sokov said while While driving, I heard Anna talking on the phone: "Hello, is this Liuba? This is Anna. ... Has your house been sold? ... Where are you, your old house? ... OK, I see, I'll be there in about half an hour."

After hanging up the phone, Anna pointed to the front and said to Sokov: "Misha, turn right at the intersection ahead and drive straight ahead."

Sokov asked Anna curiously: "Anna, I just heard you ask someone else's house if it has been sold when you were on the phone. Are you going to buy it?"

"Misha, you misunderstood. I'm a worker, how can I afford to buy a house." Anna shook her head and said: "My friend's father used to be a professor at the university, and there are many books at home. Now he has passed away, and my friend plans to sell this house. And the books left by her father have become a burden, and she plans to throw them all away. When I take you there later, see if there are any books you want. If there are, just take them home."

Knowing that Anna could help him find old books, Sokov was overjoyed. If it was really the books left by the old professor, there must be a lot of books he wanted in it. Thinking this way, the car speed was inevitably a bit fast.

Who knew that just after turning the intersection, I heard the siren of the police car from behind, which stopped after a while, indicating that I was asked to pull over.

Sokov cursed his bad luck and quickly pulled the car over.

As soon as the car stopped, a police car with red and blue lights flashing on the roof passed by the car and stopped steadily not far ahead.

Seeing the color of the roof lights clearly, Sokov felt more at ease. The traffic police's roof lights are one red and one blue, and the police's police car roof lights are two blue. At this moment, it is a red and blue double-color flashing light, indicating that it is the traffic police, not the police, who are coming. I should just violate the traffic rules, not encounter a black policeman who is blocking the road and blackmailing.

The door of the police car opened, and a policeman came out from inside. The band of the wide-brimmed hat he wore was gray, which is a special police hat for traffic police.

He came to Sokov's car, raised his hand to salute, and said politely: "Sir, please show me your driver's license."

Sokov quickly took out his driver's license and handed it over.

After checking the driver's license, the traffic police said: "Sir, you just exceeded the speed limit and you will be fined 200 rubles. If you choose to go to the bank to pay the fine, I will issue you a ticket now. If you pay it now, I will not issue a ticket."

Sokov had come to Russia for a long time, so he naturally knew all kinds of unspoken rules. If he was fined, there would be a stain on his record. When he renewed his visa next year, he might be rejected for traffic violations. So he decisively chose to pay the fine directly to the other party to avoid leaving a bad record.

After the traffic police put the fine paid by Sokov in his pocket, he said, "Good luck!" Then he turned back to his police car and drove away.

After the traffic police drove away, Sokov restarted the car.

Anna, who was sitting in the co-pilot seat, quickly reminded him, "Misha, don't worry, drive slowly. My friend is waiting for us at her home, you don't have to worry."

"Well, I know." Sokov was too excited just now, so he accidentally exceeded the speed limit. At this moment, his mood has calmed down, and naturally there will be no more violations.

Seeing that they were getting closer and closer to the destination, Sokov asked tentatively: "Anna, are we going to someone else's house empty-handed? Should we buy some gifts?"

"If you hadn't reminded me, I would have almost forgotten." Anna pointed to the front and said to Sokov: "Misha, there is a flower shop next to the McDonald's in front. I'll go buy a bouquet of flowers for Liuba."

Sovkov parked the car next to McDonald's and said to Anna: "Anna, I'll wait for you here, go buy flowers."

After Anna got out of the car and left, Sokov took out his mobile phone and searched the history of the Soviet Union on the Internet. You know, although he knew the history of the Great Patriotic War very well, he knew very little about the history from 1946 to 1991.

The first post he saw was titled "Analysis of the Causes of the Soviet Food Crisis in the Early Post-War Period (1945-1953)". Sokov immediately became interested. He remembered that he had returned from 1946 to the present. Whether there was really a great famine that year, he wanted to see if he could find an ideal answer from this post.

As soon as he clicked on the post, before Sokov could take a closer look, he heard a woman's voice next to him: "Sir!"

Sokof turned his head and saw a young girl with dyed red hair, wearing sexy suspenders and low-waist denim hot pants, lying on the window on the passenger side, revealing a large area of ​​snow-white skin, and asked softly: "Sir, are you interested in communicating? The price is very cheap."

Sokof saw this and thought that this should be the legendary fallen women. He didn't expect to meet them here. He waved his hand and said, "Thank you, no need!"

"Sir, the price is really not expensive." The red-haired girl gestured and said, "Only 250 euros."

250, you are 250, your whole family is 250. After Sokov cursed the red-haired girl in his heart, he continued to shake his head and said, "Thank you, no need!"

Seeing that Sokov was unmoved, the red-haired girl stood up, muttered a few slang words that Sokov didn't understand, and turned away.

As soon as the red-haired girl walked away, Anna opened the car door and got in, holding a bunch of lilies in her hands. She looked at the red-haired girl going away and asked curiously: "Misha, who is that, your friend?"

"No." Sokov shook his head: "Just someone asking for directions."