Sunlit oak tree

The night before going to the boarding house was painful and long. Augustine did not sleep. Wilhelm, when he found out what awaited Augustine, of course, helped him as best he could, but he never managed to persuade Yulona to admit that this was a stupid step. Augustine was at a loss — why exactly him and why would he still spend almost two years there? What will happen and how will Agnes and the youngest change? He tried to lie quietly so as not to wake Yuma. He again began to remember Austria, their recent trip there six months before his father’s graduation. The young man, taking out a stack of photographs, quietly pushed the drawer aside. In one of the photographs he stood with Agnes. They stood together against the backdrop of some monument, smiling with all their teeth. It was a good time, but all good things come to an end. The foggy dawn did not allow Augustine to forget and gave his mood a bad character. It was the end of July, and this weather was not normal for this time of year. He has already packed his things. In the city they found Edith, and now she came to help her mother. Edith helped him pack his things; he wanted to take at least a violin with him, but it was impossible. Now to Augustine this place seemed completely dead. Augustine lay in bed for a long time and could not say goodbye to his new home. This corner had been his haven for the last six months, when they had moved out of Anna and Wilhelm’s apartment. Now Augustine has matured and matured, he has turned into a beautiful sixteen-year-old youth; a lot has changed: he would say that his whole life has been turned upside down. The mother changed, who, after returning from prison, became completely fixated on money and on her father, who every day came to the window and stood quietly near it for several hours. The mother did not want to have contact with her son, who simply did not want to accept the values ​​that she imposed on him, for which she sent Augustine to a boarding school and did not accept objections. His mother finally kicked him out of the house. Yes, for some reason, for him now it was no longer surprising; rather, it was a quiet acceptance of the inevitable. — Edith, tell me, where will you go after your dismissal? The woman stopped and shrugged. — I don’t know, maybe I’ll go to France again. Or maybe I’ll stay here, although that’s unlikely. In any case, don’t worry, I won’t disappear. I think you will too. Augustine rolled his eyes and muttered something through his mouth. — Do not say that! I’ve already regretted it a hundred times. I lay all night and thought why this was so. Why did everything turn out this way? — Augustine walked from corner to corner and muttered. Edith quietly left, deciding that she should not disturb him. Augustine felt that they would now call him and decided to go down himself. He will go to the most fragile place of all in the world — to a school for future soldiers. What awaited him there and how his life would turn out after, he didn’t want to know. He won’t be able to do anything anyway. The inevitability weighed heavily on his shoulders, just as when his mother left them with Wilhelm and Anna on the very night that completely turned his life upside down. Near the door, footsteps were heard into the room — his younger brother Yum ran in, looking very much like his mother with his gray-green eyes and neat facial features. — Brother, I heard you are leaving today? — the little one said sadly. — Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll come for Christmas and weekends if it works out. “He stroked the boy’s head and patted his soft cheeks. “I will miss your bedtime stories and our walks.” — Me too. Yum warmly hugged his older brother’s leg and got ready to go. He took his suitcase, threw on his jacket and walked downstairs at a slow pace, memorizing everything that caught his eye in their small house. He was accompanied by Agnes, his younger sister, who until recently did not believe that he would go there, and Yuna, who also did not want to let her older brother go. He came out of the entrance and saw a black Mercedes drive up to the house. The man in uniform who came out was pale and gray in the face. He was approaching, and Augustine’s heart was bleeding. Walking towards the man in uniform, he shook his hand. — Hello, Augustine. My name is Herbert Ice and I am the assistant director of admissions at the school. “Hello,” he barely managed to squeeze out. Augustine looked at him. Herbert’s cold, appraising gaze pressed on Augustine, the young man faded away under him. Herbert walked into the car and sat in the driver’s seat. Augustine sat behind him, looking at his house for the last time from the car windows. The road to school passed in silence and calm, Augustine tried not to make unnecessary sounds and looked at the landscape outside the window, which changed from city streets with modern buildings to small streets with one-story houses. Later they left the city limits. All that he loved so much was left behind: walks, poppy seed buns, long evenings by the fireplace and drawing magnificent landscapes, fast cycling downhill with the wind blowing in your face — everything was left behind, his whole life. What remains is that distant and shabby apartment of Wilhelm and Anna, the times when they were all in Austria, and those evenings when father returned from prison. He joked a lot with his brother and sisters and often amused them. Gone are the days when, gathering everyone, he told them funny stories that he came up with himself. Augustine dozed while sitting in the car; the warm leather interior and ride lulled him to sleep. The car braked sharply, and Augustine immediately opened his eyes. It was already so dark that you could put out your eyes. He shook his head, wanting to finally wake up. Herbert got out of the car, Augustine followed — with a suitcase in his hand. It was quite cold and chilly outside. They stood on the gravel path, surrounded by bright lanterns and spotlights everywhere. “Let’s go,” said Herbert. Augustine walked through the dark gate that opened and led into the courtyard. They walked across a huge area. The trees cast ominous shadows. — This is an area for construction — morning and evening. There’s a roll call going on here. Augustine shook his head to indicate that he understood what he had been told. Next they walked into a large hall with a white marble staircase; dark curtains and dark walls decorated with burgundy paint did not add to Augustine’s mood. Turning right, they found themselves at a reception desk. They were met by a man of about forty. Herbert impolitely and with coldness in his voice said that the boy should be given a uniform and asked Augustine what size he was. Augustine was given several types of clothing, including a tracksuit, a dress uniform, which consisted of a black jacket and pants of the same color, a pair of boots, black shorts and a brown shirt, and also a cap. Having received a set of clothes, Augustine went to Herbert’s office to sign papers and identification. Walking past the administration offices and classrooms, he looked at the walls hung with canvases depicting swastikas and portraits of many people unknown to him. Herbert’s office was also not distinguished by its softness and light colors: black upholstery, red curtains. Except that the brown table standing in the center of the room stood out against this background of everything black and red. — So, have a seat. “He pointed to one of the chairs that stood opposite him. — Now I will give you an application for admission, you will have to fill it out. “He took a small piece of paper out of the desk drawer and handed it to Herbert, while he busied himself with his book. Augustine indicated his first and last name — Augustin Heisenberg — and briefly read the text that followed “I announce my entry into the Hitler Youth. I am a descendant of a German and promise with my signature to promote the movement as a sincere German in accordance with National Socialist principles with all my resources and to follow the progress of its leaders as quickly as possible.” Next, nationality, gender and monetary contributions were indicated. But his parents did not give him any money. He sat thinking for about five minutes. Herbert finished with his book long ago and, feeling eyes on him, he signed and specified about the contributions. It turned out that Wilhelm and Anna had already paid for everything a long time ago; apparently, his parents had been talking to them about this for a long time and were really going to send him to this school. He was given a book — something like a school diary. — Let me walk you to your room. You will share it with three more boys your age. Augustine still responded with a silent nod. He still couldn’t get those words in the statement out of his head. Now it seemed to him not just a school, but rather a prison, releasing someone unknown. Entering the dark room, Augustine found a free bed in the upper right corner of the room and quietly sat down on it. Suddenly the light turned on, and Augustine closed his eyes from the brightness. — Well, well, you’re new. — One of the three guys stood in shorts and a T-shirt. Augustine nodded to him. — Make yourself comfortable. Early rise tomorrow. — Everything the stranger told him. Then he turned off the light. Listening to himself and hearing only his own heartbeat, Augustine put the suitcase and things on top of it and, having undressed, put his clothes on a nearby chair, lay down on the bed and covered himself with a blanket, immediately falling asleep. The morning began very early for Augustine. He was awakened by a bell in the corridor, which turned out to be next to his room. He jumped up and only when he focused did he realize where he was now. His roommates looked at him intently, sitting on their bunks in T-shirts and shorts. The room he was moved into was small and had low ceilings. Gray walls, iron beds, small windows and oak doors did not add to the atmosphere. “Get up quickly, new guy, otherwise you’ll oversleep and be left without a bath.” “The guys from his room were already practically dressed, but Augustine was still sitting in a rumpled coat. — And now. — The young man rose heavily from the bed and stood up, swaying, as if after a severe hangover. — You can’t be late for roll call. “Okay,” Augustine answered like a dummy and, quickly looking at the pile of clothes lying next to him, he chose black shorts and a brown shirt, like his roommates. He carefully made the bed and, after getting dressed, went to the bathroom. But before he could leave the room, he came across a line of thirty, maybe thirty-five people. Augustine, standing with a towel and toothbrush, was surprised at how many people there were. His head hurt, he was terrified of such a line. — Oh, it’s a good thing we lined up. — Hearing this phrase behind him, Augustine turned around. — What do you have in mind? “The stranger looked at him a little strangely. Then he smiled. “You’re new—it’s clear what’s going on.” From which room? — Curiosity sparkled in his eyes. — From the twenty-fifth. — Augustine stood slightly turned towards the stranger, turning every time the line moved forward. “From the twenty-fifth…” the young man said with some thoughtfulness. — I’m from the thirteenth. “My name is Ernest,” he extended his hand. Augustine shook it. — It’s a pleasure, Ernest, I’m Augustine. So what did you mean when you said luck? — There may be an even longer queue here. The toilet and sinks, along with showers, are on the same floor, there are many rooms, and if you don’t get in line, you may not be on time for roll call, for which you will be fined. “Augustine could barely keep up with the progress of everything that was happening here. The pace in this place was much faster than at his home, where he leisurely drank coffee, walked around and enjoyed the beauty of the morning. — And what after the roll call? — Breakfast and classes for different groups are different. You will soon find out everything yourself. The stranger said nothing more to him, and Augustine, moving forward in line, noted the motley divisions and how different the social stratum of the people gathered here was. Some were completely stupid in appearance, others, on the contrary, were cunning and deceitful, others were silent and withdrawn. The bathroom was large and was divided into several sections. Augustine went to the first available sink and washed his face and brushed his teeth. Quickly returning, he was the last one to leave the room, lacing up his shoes. Alexander — blond with blue eyes, the oldest of their group, who had just turned seventeen — was the leader in their room and therefore urged Augustine without ceremony — this was something Augustine encountered for the first time; even being in the care of Wilhelm and Anna, he did not know strict rules — the only rule in their house was not to be late for school. Erich, the same one with whom Augustine spoke after awakening, was the most talkative. On the way to the formation, he told everything about their group and shared with Augustine everything that he himself knew, so that he would quickly join their society. Alexander looked at them intently every now and then, shutting Erich up. Another neighbor of Augustine was Gustav, a guy who behaved arrogantly and looked at the new arrival with particular impudence. Augustine felt a chill at being out so early in the morning. Alexander lined them up in the eighth row, and later the rest of the students joined their row. Standing in the cold, albeit summer, wind, Augustine trembled all over his body, lost his teeth, Erich made fun of him, but later he calmed down, realizing that it was useless to do this — Augustine did not react to his nagging. The roll call began from the beginning of the list: names and rooms were called out, and everyone had to shout out that he was there. The roll call lasted a little over an hour, after dissolution they all went to breakfast, Augustine constantly yawned and didn’t really want to eat. They walked in one large column to the dining room, this commonality — doing everything together with others — irritated him a little. The room turned out to be large and spacious, wooden tables and attached benches next to them created integrity, the stone walls gave off a cold feeling. The electric lamps have already been turned off. August sat down at the far table and, taking his portion of porridge, pushed the tasteless tea and began to slowly consume the food, or rather, shove it into himself, realizing that it was unlikely that they would warm it up for him or give him another one. During the time spent in Austria, he became accustomed to eating any food that was not prepared by Freundlich’s mother’s sister; it looked more like someone’s vomit than food. Today’s comrade in line, Ernest, whom they encountered today on the way to the bathroom, sat down next to him from somewhere on the side. — Well, how did you get started? — he asked playfully, teasing Augustine. “Well…” he drawled barely noticeably. — I don’t know, everything is too fast or something. “I’m used to everything not being so fast and not so tasteless,” he said, pointing his finger at the porridge. — Get used to it. How old are you? — Erich finished with the porridge and was already drinking tea. “Sixteen,” Augustine said reluctantly, putting down the porridge and drinking tea. The time was approaching eight. — And you? — Just turned fifteen. You’re lucky, you’re only here for two years, some people are sent away at fourteen. — Wait, why so early? Erich paused, then answered: “I don’t know, everyone ended up here for different reasons, but they all have one thing in common.” We do not exist for our loved ones. Yes, of course, our parents come to visit us, and, of course, they bring us food from home. However, you know, Augustine, we were abandoned to some extent. We are all abandoned here by our parents, who did not want to look after us and gave us over to the state. — But what will happen to us when we graduate? — Augustine was already getting up from the table, realizing that the bell would soon ring, signaling the end of the meal period. — No one knows. Maybe we’ll join the party, maybe we’ll join the army. This gives you some privileges and concessions, you can stay to teach at school, as I heard, but this is hardly anything significant. — He stood up, leaving the plates in the kitchen. Augustine hurried — classes were about to begin. Since he was separated from his group, he had to catch up with them in the corridor. “If you’re new, can you at least keep up?” — Gustav ran into him. — Okay, okay, I understand you. — Augustine looked into his cold, hate-filled eyes. “Gustav, today is his first day here,” Alexander addressed. -Can you not put pressure on him? — What do you care? He violated discipline. — Now the conversation was between the two of them. “I’m the leader in the room, I’m in charge of our group, and it’s up to me to decide who to reprimand and who not to.” — Alexander calmed his ardor. “Besides, I hope that you remember that you are unsuccessful in some disciplines.” — The conversation was over, and Gustav threw an angry look towards Augustine. After receiving his matriculation certificate, Augustine never sat at a desk again. He used to dream of going to college, but now he must live with what he has here and now. He looked out the window — the view from it looked out onto fields and rare trees that had been planted recently and had not yet taken root. Augustine was lost in thought and did not notice when Alexander sat down next to him. He greeted him briefly, and he nodded in return. The class was noisy: several young men joked loudly, while others sat and read books. Everyone was assembled completely differently and not seated with roommates — all this, apparently, was done so that the students would communicate better with each other. The teacher came in and everyone stood up to greet him. When they sat down, the lesson began. Alexander did not take his eyes off Augustine throughout the lesson. Watching Augustine clumsily disassemble and reassemble the gun, Alexander chuckled. Augustine was bothered by his gaze; he didn’t like it when someone stared at him. “If you have nothing else to look at, look at the floor,” Augustine said reproachfully, reloading his gun and exhaling heavily. He had never held a weapon in his life, and this was his first time; In theory, everything looked easy, but in practice it was difficult. — Why did you end up here? — Augustine suddenly stopped assembling the gun and looked back at Alexander. “You obviously didn’t want to come here, right?” And judging by the fact that you can’t even assemble this lightweight model, you’re not a warrior, so why? — Augustine was silent. Averting his eyes, he took the model apart and handed it to Alexander. — It’s your turn! — he said, passing it on. — Why are you asking me? — Alexander, with a slight movement of both hands, assembled and disassembled the gun in a matter of seconds, and later began to work on the pistol. — Just wondering. There are few people like you here. — Alexander put both weapons assembled in the middle of the table. Augustine was silent for a minute or two, thinking about what to say. “My parents sent me here.” “That’s all I can tell you,” the young man said embarrassedly. - Me too. At fourteen, my father went broke on his coffins and sold the entire business, and sent me here so that I wouldn’t get in the way. — Alexander looked at him timidly from under his long eyelashes. - When I was sixteen, however, mine went to prison. — The muttering of the teacher, explaining something in the background and reminding him that time would soon be up, seemed unnecessary here. Augustine thought that he was the only one who was exiled here, but it turned out that there was also someone with a similar fate. Alexander was also glad that he had found a companion who understood him. They sat until the end of the lessons, talking about each other — how they live, breathe and thought about how to survive in this place. Before coming here, Alexander was interested in horse riding and architecture, as well as playing the guitar and violin. Augustine talked about the violin, easels and pianos. It turned out that people like them were also sent to this place. Children of formerly rich, but now bankrupt parents. Now their lives and destinies are given to the state. Alexander said that now they are equal to money and that, having graduated from this institution, he can discover many roads for himself. — Tell me, do you think we will get out of here and start living normally? — Augustine said with hope in his voice as he walked through the small garden after school. — No, once we got here, we already became those who would not call themselves normal. Besides… what awaits us? Unknown. And it is impossible to cherish the empty hope that we will one day become the same as we left. This is silly. — Well, yes, you are right about something. — Okay, let’s go, the story will begin soon, don’t be late. — Alexander went ahead, and Augustine stood a little and followed.