Rhythm of rebellion

- Well, finally - it was a very discontented sigh, emitting deep contempt and accumulating for two days the bile that the speaker needed to pour out. The officer, holding a key ring on his finger, came slowly and deliberately to the grate, as if teasing the people behind it. There are a lot of them: six, not counting the sleeping cripple who drooled in his sleep. The most impatient man, clutching behind the bars, brought his face closer to the officer, apparently about to say something nasty. But the police, to the misfortune of the violators, have developed an immunity to bad language or even dirty deeds, so that the duty officer remained indifferent. Until the time... - Move it, geezer, - a burp that I can rightly call a nice guy was hissing through my teeth. The short, white-haired curly hair resembling a freshly cut lawn perfectly matched his face. The cowardly, defying gaze from under the wheat-brows shined like a topaz in the sun - the color of his eyes will be crystal blue. They seemed piercing, transparent and cold. However, when looking at this figure in musty clothes and crooked lips, mechanically created a repulsive impression. Meanwhile, a police officer, looking the blond man in the face, with a weak controlling indifference, opened the lock. - Why don’t you stay here? I don’t mind washing your sharp tongue with soap,' said the officer, moaning with a bunch of keys that he had used in his careless movements against the iron grate. He was supposed to be wearing dark pants, a blue shirt with a tie, a leather jacket over his shoulders with a shiny badge. A bald head without a cap - she rested on the table, littered with papers and an uneaten sandwich. - Right after you shove yours deep in your ass, the blond man gasped under his feet, openly enjoying the rage flared on someone’s wrinkled cheeks. - Benny, shut up. They looked over, and the one named Benny reluctantly bit his tongue, deciding to listen to the friend’s advice. The duty man was really trying his best not to grab the boy by the beak and throw him on the floor, and then beat him with a stick. - Be thankful you’re getting out of here real nice. Not everybody’s so lucky. And now get the hell out - open the door wide, the cop shook his head. Benny raised his hands in a sign of «surrender», continuing to play clown, the first released the prison cell. - Don’t worry, I’ll be back. And they all knew it would be so. The prisoners followed one after another out. Having taken the confiscated things, four friends, begging for their withered limbs on the way, hurried to leave the ill-fated site. Arriving in the hall, where the employees were sitting at the tables, taking statements and making minutes, the guys looked around with curiosity, appreciating the atmosphere. Smelled of sweat and onion rings. The building was entered by patrolmen, trailing handcuffed vagrants, offenders or troublemakers of another breed. A group of black people, using brute force, were pushed into cages. Someone was arguing at the table and demanding justice. Three phone calls screamed voices that echoed from the high walls. Looking at all this, you might think that the reality is really crazy; it’s like everyone went mad in an instant. Benny leaned close to the ear of one of his friends and simultaneously pulled back cigarettes from his cotton shirt pocket. - Look at all these. - Did you think you were the only idiot? - a vivid irritation in the foreign tones made Blondie understand that the comrade believed him to be guilty of what happened. Two days earlier, due in part to Benny’s frivolity, the four of us had been waiting for problems that nearly all of American society was facing. And all because of the drugs. They were received unabashedly, not frightened by the law, which, to be honest, looked on the impending disaster in the shade. Few opposed the distribution of cocaine, and some law enforcement officers were not shy about dabbling in powders. The situation got out of control when people started offering to legalize drugs; and there was a legitimate campaign to promote the use of cocaine or marijuana. One of the ads said: «Cocaine is safe for you, your child and your lady». The companies calmly advertised the accessories for the use of substances, especially were popular bottles, which were said to remove moisture from cocaine. Drugs is the third horseman of the apocalypse of American society. Moreover, this is a rotten fuel, convinced the good citizens, created to destroy the country, to sow destruction in it. They were used by hippies, politicians, school children, students, even housewives. And so, four - Jack, Bubby, Rocky and Benny - were trapped when the police raided the bar. After examining the visitors, they detained twelve people, including Benny, who did not manage to overcome his addiction with powders in time. - I didn’t know this place was blacklisted. - If someone hadn’t been carrying the coke, we wouldn’t have been here for two days! Rocky rightly resented. The long-haired Irishman was behind the others. - We have a gig tomorrow, and we haven’t really rehearsed. - Now, let’s get started. Hey, can you stop sulking at me? In arguing with each other, they were not concerned at all that they could be overheard, not embarrassed to express themselves, thus showing disrespect for the temple of justice. Jack, the most impartial of the four musicians, called his friends to calm down and, looking under his feet, by chance, accidentally hit a tall figure with his shoulder. On the black leather shoes he figured out who he was running into, but instead of asking for forgiveness, he did not stop and continued to fight with the guys. Meanwhile, the giant’s laced shoes remained still, and their socks looked away from the lost youngsters. His insolence insulted him to the depths of his soul, and his eyes were vindictively narrowed. The officer, whose face the reader already knows, straightened his humped shoulders, caught up with a noisy crowd and stopped right at the door. - Listen! he began angrily. The foursome turned in sync, which is quite usual for musicians. The eagle’s eyes were caught in its target - it was Jack, his lips squeaky as if he saw rotten tomatoes. It was his mistake; for such an attitude to himself so struck a man who had not been neglected in all his years of service, that his shaved face reflected a deep resentment. - What’s up? - The guy was lazy. Our wretched officer, who turned out to be Benjamin, was outraged to the extreme. The look from under his eyebrows fell on the cigarette between Benny’s fingers. With one snap he took the straw from him, saying more sharply than he would have liked: -No smoking in here. - And the cigarette was unlit - as if nothing had happened, Benny got a new straw out of Marlboro’s pack and put it in his mouth. An unspeakable insolence. Benjamin with a heavy eye guided the blond one, who, pushing the door with his shoulder, went out into the street. Behind him Bubby and Rocky. - We went,' said Jack. Wishing to strike at least one of the insolent boys, Benjamin shook his head. -Where are you going so fast? Learn to take responsibility for your actions. - What did I do? - You pushed me. - I hit you. - Oh, you do admit that,' said Mr Moss, looking down at Jack and putting his hands on his belt. - Well, you’re not blind and you’ve seen it all with your own eyes - the glow of growing annoyance. He was already angry at Benny and the unfortunate circumstances that slowed down his work, so now a cop is stuck to him like a fly on a wedge of syrup. Jack has disliked them since he was a young man. For many reasons. - You should think twice before you say it, boy, Benjamin murmured him suspiciously. I remember you. - As you wish. It was all going on in one of Manhattan’s precincts, where Mr Moss ran into an emergency. This fact tied his hands, because he belonged to the police of Brooklyn and deal with the arrogant schoolboy was left to the local authorities. They were obviously, in Benjamin’s opinion, able to accomplish this task on a solid one, for they worked with the sleeves down and according to a scheme familiar to him. The violators were caught, tortured at will and, having received offsets, released them again. And so on in a circle until the next arrest. Criminals were not punished with the necessary severity. Modern police thought about full pockets, and justice became a convenient excuse to fill those pockets, not more. The bandits themselves understood this well, so they did not fear the law, did not respect it, as shown by the boy standing opposite Benjamin. He was relaxed, even bored; his gaze from the past was indifferent to everything. Mr Moss looked at him again and again, wanting to know who was before him; it was hard to tell whether he was a student, but not a schoolboy, because of the thin shirt on his buttons and denim pants. Age gave barely noticeable bristles on the cheekbones. Forehead high, hidden under broken fat bangs. Pale, thin, but with strong shoulders and a healthy burnt face. - Are you from here? - Yes, from America,' said Jack the fool, blurting out. - So I’ll see you again - the officer nodded and let him go. He smirked and, giving honor, opened the door and disappeared behind it. But the story is far from over. Walking into his old friend’s office, with whom he had been trained at the police academy, Benjamin shook hands with him and sat down in a chair. There he asked about the recently arrested four. Information turned out to be negligible, to the same personal file was stored in the office, however, in order to calm down and help his comrade, Benjamin was given a word to get the data and send a copy by mail. So, without even realizing it, Jack has made himself a real enemy, with whom, by the will of heaven, he is destined to face more than once. *** The first dance for a girl is as important as marriage or entry into a prestigious university. The stages of growing up consist of small, at first glance, things, and this list is quite extensive. Take for example our Simran - she collected in memory all the events that, in her opinion, contributed to the development of her personal growth. The first launched kite. Children’s counterfeit. Victory in the literary competition of elementary classes in the nomination «Best reader». Participation in charitable projects: in the third grade she planted a dozen seedlings in the park, which suffered from a strong typhoon. In the fifth - rescue of homeless animals. These good deeds, and most importantly their fruits, inspired Kiwi and continue to benefit our world. To this day, she has remained an activist and participated in many extracurricular activities. One of them was held next week. - Did you really sign up? You know, the participation will not affect your semester grades - Nancy with some squeamishness watched like a ballpoint pen, leaving traces of ink, signed by Simran. She put a dot and, turning the sheet, threw it into a container with the inscription on the lid «Protest». -I don’t do it for grades. - Why else would you waste your day off? - To express my position. Maybe it will have an impact on what’s going on in Vietnam. - Jesus - Nancy rolled her eyes theatrically, putting her hand on her forehead - I hear the same thing every day. On TV, radio, now from you. Simran only laughed at the dramatic laments of her friend. She understood that Nancy was not important, but what was not important to the rest of us played a significant role for her. Simran has a strong sense of justice, and that’s the quality in the girl who pushed away some people and attracted others with a magnet. Such people tend to get respect even from the enemies. Fortunately, Kiwi did not get them, but managed to charm Mason Carter - a fin who promises a brilliant sporting future. He was a tall, handsome man with a nice back bangs, trying to catch up with his girlfriends. «Simran, Simran», appeared behind, only the girls were so taken up with conversations that they did not hear the poor woman. - Hold on, I noticed Nancy’s fin and, with a sneaky smile, I grabbed the brunette by the hand - I saw your tail. - What’s the tail? - followed the look of Kiwi friend and doomed little lips. - Oh, no... - He’s definitely not right about you. - Do you think? Maybe he’s into you, - looking at the confident gait of Mason dressed in a beige polo under a reddish jacket, Simran mentally recognized the beauty of the athlete. Many here admired the face of Carter, and if not the face, he drove the girls crazy with his battered thighs and cubed press. This one is destined to bathe in female attention and decorate magazines with chic pictures. - Don’t be an idiot. He was shouting your name, - Nancy curled her hair behind her ear and smiled nicely when Mason, the chestnut-haired Appalachian, came along - hello. - Hello, - After exchanging glances with Nancy, Carter focused all his attention on Simran, and the intonation of him acquired a completely different shade: more gentle, tender, - Hello, Simran. - Hey, Mason. - A beautiful skirt, he nodded at the soft trapeze-shaped mini that Kiwi tearfully asked her parents to let her wear. She liked it because of the beautiful autumn color - crimson leaves. - Thank you. - Did you run after her to compliment her skirt... or her legs? -winked, Nancy chuckled, not caring that her comment embarrassed both of them. - Oh, what are you talking about! Simran’s elbow hit her. - Stop! Mason had a bad cough. He wouldn’t argue with the comment of the swindler - Simran’s legs are really pretty. They are of perfect length, even and with burnt sharp knees. The thin ankles are hidden under the mustard warm socks. - Actually, I was gonna say that we could go to the movies if you’re free tomorrow? - Oh, no, forget it - boldly stepped forward, thus standing between the couple, Nancy. Her long hair gathered in a lush tail was moving amusing, like a clockwork pendulum - left-right, left-right - we will have fun tomorrow in «Tau-Hau». That’s the news! It made the fin frown for the first time. - Are you really going to this place? It’s all jerks and whores! -Hey, pick your language! We are, by the way, ladies. - Ladies don’t go to places like this,' said Mason Carter, annoyingly. - How do you know? I’m sure it’s cool! - Stop both, - Simran didn’t like to swear. Listening to her request, the swimmer took a breath. - What the hell! Why are you going there? - We’re going to the concert. We’re gonna dance. You can’t come with us. - I wouldn’t willingly go, Carter sniffed arrogantly and looked down on the slanderous Simran, and I don’t recommend it. - Who are you, the Lord God, to dictate her rules? -Nancy pulled out of her backpack a pair of sunglasses with heart-shaped lenses and stretched them over her bent nose. - You don’t have to worry. We’re just going to dance,' said Kiwi with strength, and, taking her friend’s hand, pulling her, 'I’ll see you on Monday, Mason. The boy, rejected in such a demeaning and angry manner, escorted the girls to the school bus, where Jody was waiting for them. Mason is not used to rejection and rudeness. He wasn’t angry at Simran - his midwife was Nancy, who obviously had a bad influence on Miss Moss. This belief was not to be questioned, because, if you think about it, Simran did not wear a skirt above the knee before. She rarely painted and was satisfied with one bracelet on the wrist, but now the jewelry has become more: it and bright massive earrings, rings; mascara on the eyelashes and cherry shine on the lips. Accustomed to the innocent image of Simran, Mason did not admit the obvious thought that the girl was just revealing herself. No, I did not give in to bad influences, I just accepted myself, I was liberated, I went through the transformation from a girl to a young lady. Men are used to thinking about women badly if they refuse to listen to their word, and the girls also have something to say. *** The glamorous part of New York, filled with boutiques and hairdressers from which beauties came out with updated hairstyles, did not suffer from a lack of attention. The higher the discount, the more often the cash machine rang. Fashion, like the times of the year, alternated with each other at an elusive speed, and young people, for the sake of self-expression, did not deny themselves the pleasure of shopping. Life between Fifth and Ninth Avenues was littered with a variety of glamorous novelties, which advertised stylishly dressed mannequins that were behind the windows. It is interesting that closer to the afternoon on them, as usual, left only accessories, such as scarves or headgear, the rest - sold out. The billboards with the image of Twiggy, like a Christmas tree among a huge garbage dump, turned all eyes to itself. Brick walls and even, imagine, telephone booths were glued to newspaper clippings with pictures of Bridget Bardot, Mary Quantum and other personalities whose names history remembers. Meanwhile, shurish paper bags, satisfied customers left the shops and certainly sent directly to the chairs of the hairdressers. It was a ritual that every lady who visited the fashion district had to perform. Leaving without an update, a haircut and a new manicure was considered a bad tone. Wandering the broad streets of Manhattan, Simran gazed with delight at every stone and crack of the lively quarter, adorned with lanterns and bright billboards. The people here were no different from the fashion ladies of Paris or the Hollywood stars - they dressed in good taste, and none of them resembled each other. Each shade has its own special touch. Fashionable cloaks with interesting colors and complex prints. On the tops are leather berets or knitted hats, decorated with bright large or small bead. The legs are dressed in shoes with low heels or rough boots. The adult half of the block preferred brown-milky shades of clothing. Many, instead of the usual accessories, like bracelets, have four-legged pets, from spiky to spotted dalmatians. Looking away from them, at the traffic light, Simran, turning her head, watched the pigeons fly over the chain of cars. The walk was long, and the setting sun threw its farewell rays on the main road, reflected in the windows of tall buildings. It was sharply chilly. - Back to Brooklyn by taxi - Nancy made an effort to hear the noise of passing cars. They were rushing through the crowd, holding each other in order not to get lost in the thick field. At this time of the day, New York was becoming a net of caught sardines. The people on the sidewalk are blind; they all rush somewhere, like programmed robots, walking in one direction. - We’ve spent all the money! - Jodi grabbed her stomach and took a sad sigh. - I still haven’t eaten. -Hold the bags tight, and leave the rest to me - winked at the desperate girlfriends who had actually spent their pocket money on clothes, jewelry and milkshakes, Nancy raced to the bus station. It was as if she knew what she was doing. Her smirk, full of confidence, comforted the schoolgirls, so that they followed her obediently, like the Israelites after Moses. So, having passed three blocks, the girlfriends got to a small office, whose door was opened and wired with a piece of red brick. There was a yellow light inside. The woman with the eye-popping makeup and a black pencil-colored mole over her thick lip painted her fingernails with a green varnish that reminded Jody of the mold they were looking at under a microscope in biology class. - Hi, Helga. - Hello, my dear - the lady sweetly reached out by blowing on her fingernails three times and shaking her palm so that the varnish would wither faster. Nancy told me to wait for her outside; she would disappear in the commodore for a good couple of minutes, and when she came back, she had her head on a stick. - My father will take us,' she announced solemnly, and in the same instant a man appeared behind her with a blight, but with a large build. With the help of a taxi that Nancy’s father used to feed his family, they left Manhattan. The sun set a long time ago, when Simran, having wished goodnight to her friends, entered the house. Inside the light was burning, there were scattered twins' toys that at this time usually lay on a warm carpet and drooled - preparing for sleep. - I’m home! - Putting the brown shoes in the closet, Simran yelled at her parents and headed straight for herself. - Hi, Kiwi. It’s nice to come home after a hectic day and hear the voices of my parents. House makes cozy people, not things, because things without history and memory of people are worth nothing. Alive they make man. Mr and Mrs Moss, having a tea, were deeply immersed in the conversation. Usually, they urged Kiwi to join them, but today their attention was taken by someone else. The one who is not seen is untouched, but he is alive, healthy and has captured the mind of Mr Moss. - Today I ran into a cocky kid at the precinct. You should’ve heard him talk back to me! - When he bit his strudel, Benjamin complained. - What was he doing there? - I found out,' nodded Mr Moss, staring at his spouse; 'his friend is on drugs, obviously, and he hasn’t gone far from him, otherwise they wouldn’t have taken him. Simran listened to their conversation, but quickly lost interest in it. And before her bedroom door was closed, she caught the mother’s murmur: - My God! Where do they come from! The night was restless because of the upcoming dances. Kiwi failed to appease the beating heart and, wriggling on a mint sheet, she finally approached the window and stared for a long time into the starry sky. The outside was foggy, and we could hear the moaning of stray cats that had found shelter in the basements of their neighbor’s townhouse. Simran’s bad habit is to dream before sleeping and build air castles. It could have been anything - a trip to Europe, a film shoot or an encounter with the idol. Most often these scenarios were intertwined with the imaginary love line: a chance encounter with one’s fate, courtship and dating. Lush bouquets of red roses, cloves, a kiss under the full moon and a lavish wedding. Then move to a quieter town in the state, a big house with a veranda and a wide yard where you can build your garden. Simran saw herself well as a housewife. As a child, she often went to the farm to her grandmother and handled household chores. She would like to get married, but necessarily to the person you love. Leaping back to the bed, Kiwi stared sleepily at the ceiling and slowly fell into a state of calm. Thoughts were mixed up with dreams, and at some point instead of blurring the fetishes of an imaginary lover, Mason Carter’s pretty face appeared. Frightened by this vision, Simran jumped up and squealed. «You can see it!» - she said in her mind. In the morning, thoughts of an unpleasant dream were dispelled, as was the mist that Kiwi contemplated at night. This is the order - with dawn to forget what the sunset taught us. The first half of the day Simran spends on taking care of the twins: while her mother was preparing breakfast and ironing, Simran washed the brothers. Then she changed and began to play with them in cubes, making simple words. «Mom», «Apple», «Moon», «Family». Again and again she clearly talked about the cubed words, and in return received a barely noticeable slap. The charming twins looked at their sister with curiosity and playfulness. They would grab her by the pants and climb on her knees, and when they couldn’t do it, they would start to cry bitterly. In such moments, Charlie’s cheeks would turn red, becoming spotted, and Marley would only bleed a birthmark on his forehead. This was how they could be distinguished from each other. - Kiwi, dear! What a beautiful dress! - Mrs Moss ran out into the living room, carefully holding her embroidered outfit behind her shoulders. Simran turned in a hurry to the mother’s exclamation and pressed her lips awkwardly. - Thank you for bringing him up. - When did you buy it? Is it for the sake of tonight’s movie night? - Admiring the barn, Annette asked. - Yes, it is... The dress really pleased the eye: it was a trapeze, coral nice color and with pockets on the skirt. Round neckline, decorated with thin edging. It was not too short, which certainly made Mrs. Moss happy, but Annet had doubts about tonight’s performance. Would a girl, especially her Simran, dress up for one movie? But the thoughts turned in the wrong direction: Annette could not think about dancing in «Tau-Hau». Like any mother who is raising a daughter, she has only one thing in mind - a date with the boy. - Who’s wearing such a nice dress, eh, Kiwi? - Winked, Mrs Moss chuckled. Simran, frightened by the revelation of her deception, quickly looked away, thereby entrenching the suspicion of a careful mother. - For a guy? - What? Of course not! - said Kiwi. - Don’t be shy with your mom. - You’re far from correct. - So what? - Mrs Moss yelled back into her daughter’s bedroom and spoke from there. Her voice was muffled by the extra noise of a creaky wardrobe. - I don’t even doubt that you have suitors. You’re such a peach! Simran rolled her eyes and moved the cubes aimlessly, scribbling words: instead of «mom» - «mbloko», and «moon» turned into «gloom». The twins, turning their attention to other toys, no longer bothered the sister. - Are you going to the movies with one of them? - Anette reappeared in the living room, but without a sarafan in her hands. -I’m going with Nancy and Joe. - Joe? - mother’s eyes are on fire. - Joe is Jodi. We call her that. - Well, I’m pretty sure someone’s in love with you. - What good is it that you are loved? said Simran, annoyingly beating her palm with the cubes of words. - The attention of others, especially if it is unsolicited, is depressing. To think, Simran, indignant, remembered her schoolmate Mason Carter, at the sight of whom she had a spasm in her stomach. - It is not necessary to reciprocate each, Simran, - sat down on the edge of the sofa Annette and motherly stroked the girl on the head - must be able to say «no». Firmly and decisively. No! -she gestured, scowled, and added smugly: - My advice to you, dear daughter, love not with your heart, but with your brain. - What’s it like? - Easy! Think of the future. If you want a good life, do not know the burden of poverty, love a man with ample pocket and clever mind. These people, my dear, make a fortune in cunning. - Are we talking about the material now? - Simran angrily took a deep breath and turned her head to check with time. The cuckoo clock showed ten. - Forget the stupid saying «with nice and paradise in the shalocha». Paradise is a big house, full children, decent husband and stable job. I’m lucky with your father, so I wish you the same luck as me. When she was quiet, Simran looked at her brothers and wondered. Her thoughts swirled in the whirlwind. She shared her mother’s beliefs because she couldn’t see Kiwi’s life any other way. She wasn’t taught. In the boarding house we talked about morality, faith and obedience. The duty of every woman to create a family, keep this hearth, be a good wife. However, here in the current school, looking at the girls, on whose minds clothes and fun or career, Simran asked «who invented this duty?». Who first talked about it? Do the women agree with this? If so, why are these protests taking place in the streets? - And love? said the brunette. Anet took Marley in her hands and slapped him on the forehead. - Love has to be built. - What about feelings? - They are like tides. - Well, what about youth? Suddenly Charlie, inadvertently, bangs his head on the sofa’s leg. Frightened, he threw the expected hysterics and filled himself with crocodile tears. Simran immediately took the baby in her hands and comforted her back. - Youth, dear, a short period of time. Before you know it, you’re in your thirties, the children are sleeping in the crib, and there’s a kettle whistling on the stove. Youth is given to us to lay the foundation of a successful life, and spend it on some nonsense - cretinism. Do not listen to your peers; rather, listen to those who have outlived theirs. With the words of mother, however, the girl could not agree. Love is the main component in the formula of relationships and a happy marriage. Money, let it be a full bag, will not be able to make the spouses happy, if they are indifferent to each other. Simran wanted to experience great love. She wanted to find someone who was the subject of a book. And she believed that one day her dream would come true. Looking sadly at the same point, Kiwi was silent and kept her reasoning to herself, so as not to irritate her mother, because she did not like it when her opinion is disagreed. *** «Tau-Haw» was located in the northern part of Manhattan. There are few greens, but invisibly many browns. Electricity was unstable, because it was attacked by drunkards, who did not hesitate to boast their accuracy, threw bricks into the lampposts. However, after the discovery of «Tau-Hau», which brought to a modest quarter some nothingness, but notoriety, the attacks of vandalism significantly decreased. At first it was a normal, not unlike hundreds of other establishments, bar, but after the appearance of the stage, guests became more. The interior was changed, boring wallpapers were removed from the walls and posters were hung on the spray-painted walls. You could sit only on the balconies located on the second floor. A neon sign with lemonade painted the scene in yellow-purple. Behind the bar were two adult guys who preferred a loose lifestyle. On special evenings it is noisy and wild, as in Valpurgiev night. Music and alcohol are poured by the river, young people without embarrassment release their innermost thoughts. This was and is «Tau-Hau». For some - a haven of vagrancy and debauchery, for others - a place where it is not scary to expose your soul and body, but... The owner of the bar had to try very hard not to interfere with the local officers. For their kindness he paid them fifty dollars a week. It’s a heavy tax for someone whose livelihood is sustained by the occasional performances of local musicians. Tonight is one of those nights. By eight o'clock the whole crowd was getting ready. Dressed in colourful dresses, mini-skirts and jeans, the girls held fast to their suitors. A smug grin, like today’s crescent, shone in the twilight, and the air was filled with the aroma of love and fun. They handed the money to a bouncer, now referred to as Robbie, and entered the brick building, mixing with darkness. Simran was nervous and had cold sweat, despite today’s low temperatures. To get here she had to lie three times: the first lie is obvious to us. Two and three: when Mr Moss insisted on taking her to the moon park, Kiwi concocted an excuse and assured her that she had arranged to meet her friends at the school. Her father reluctantly let her go, but on condition that she take the girls after the walk. Clearly, Simran panicked and lied again. «Nancy has already arranged with her dad. He works in a taxi and will bring me, do not worry». So, lying behind lies, the brunette managed to get out of «Tau-Haw». The girls enthusiastically shouted, slammed the taxi doors and, straightening their hair, hurried to the stone building where a line had already formed. - I’ll do it, - promised Jody. In the fashion district, she bought a red skirt with black buttons along the pockets. The citrus color of the pack was perfectly combined with the blouse, expanded by small oranges. On the ears dangled large orange earrings in the form of stars. The line, meanwhile, moved forward and two minutes later the girlfriend, unable to suppress a joyful laugh, went down a wide staircase into the lair of rebellion. Simran marveled at the painted walls that smelled of damp, beer and chewing gum. The tile floor in the white-red chessboard is almost unnoticeable from how many people are going to dance and listen to performances. To the bar, - that’s a failure! - not to get in - the crowd, raising money squeezed in their fists, demanding cocktails or something stronger. - Let’s wait for the pack to disperse, said Nancy, swinging in front of the crowd, and take a good seat at the stage. - Yes! I want to look at the boys, Joe nodded and took her by the hand and led in the right direction. While the first musicians were laying out the instruments, and the noise was slowly subsiding, Simran, embracing herself with her hands, looked up to the ceiling and only noticed the balconies with tables. - Is this like a kind of music hall? Nancy and Joe followed her gaze. -Yeah, the second one grinned, taking off her jacket, - Why don’t I take our things to the wardrobe? - Is there one here? - Simran was genuinely surprised. She got rid of the blue short coat and handed it to the blonde, and held the handbag tightly in her hand. - When you know Robby, there’s everything! winked Jody and, giggling, slid through the gathering. Simran lost sight of her. - He wants it, and she uses it,' whispered Nancy, crossing her hands, cluttered with piles of silver bracelets. She was dressed in a different way: if Jody stopped the choice on the playful fresh image, then the brunette preferred to romance rudeness. Under the pin-studded jeans, Nancy picked up the boots on the couch and a burgundy turtleneck. Her curly hair was raised in a sloppy tail. Simran liked Nancy’s outfit so much that she was unwittingly jealous. Against her background, Kiwi thought, I look like a typical farm girl. -By the way, did Mason bother you anymore? - I had a dream about him today,' said Simran, and Nancy laughed. - Must have been a pleasant dream? -Why would I? - Mason is a sweetheart. - Mason Carter? - A classmate was surprised by her appearance of Jodi, which shocked them. - Our Mason? - Yes, «our Mason». - You know, Simran, he called me at home today. He asked for your home address. - And when were you going to tell me about it? - shuddered Kiwi, her thin eyebrows under her curly bangs. - Now I’m getting ready. - You turned him down, I hope? - Of course! - Of course?.. - With skepticism recounted the blonde Simran. Jody nervously bit her lip. From the side of the stage, quiet music was heard - the first group tuned the guitars and microphones. - Well... almost. - What a drama! - holding her chest, Nancy chuckled. - Jodi! - I didn’t give your address, I called your home number - with one breath a cocksucker blew out and hid behind Nancy’s chuckle. - How could you! I don’t like him! -tried to grab her by Simran’s hand, but the blonde successfully slammed her side and raised her palm, admitting guilt. When she gave the stranger a run on her leg, she apologized and ran away to another corner, only she couldn’t get far anyway, because the concert had to start any minute and the guests of the bar pulled closer to the stage. Those lucky ones, who were happy on the balconies, watched the crowd from a height and mocked gloomily. However, no one before them cared. - I can’t say no to a guy who’s built like a hot cowboy! - I found my way back to Joe. - Fi! - both Kiwi and Nancy snorted. - Listen, just ignore him. Mason will forget about you in a week. - Why are you so sure? - Because, my dear, - the brunette has taken the tender hand of Jodie - the boys have one in mind. And you are from «Saint Mary». - How rude you are, - rolled Nancy’s eyes. - What? I’m talking like it is. - Oh, whatever! Let’s just forget about Mason Carter, for God’s sake! We came here to dance - stopped, Simran tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared angrily at the stage. The girls are quiet. There was more behind the desire to put an end to the conversation. Simran looked straight, feigning interest in the bass guitar to hide her true mood and the confusion that was filling her at the moment. The little ears were suddenly red from the words thrown to Jody’s face so unceremoniously. Yes, she was telling the truth and somehow this truth became unpleasant to Simran. Before she was sure that there was no difference between her and the same Nancy or Jodi. She felt free. Hers. One of them. However, the random observation of a blonde with orange earrings brought her back to reality. Simran felt betrayed, humiliated. What if everyone else is saying the same thing about her? But what’s wrong with her being a little modest? - It’s on! It’s on! Jody clapped her hands. The crowd picked up her idea, and the bar shuddered with wild clapping, whooping and whistling. The first group, having finished the preparations, made a short but passionate speech, which caused a second wave of exclamations. Shouting «Hello!» , the musicians have taken up the cause, encouraging young people to dance to an energetic song in the genre of country rock. Simran barely has time to react to what is happening, as she suddenly became unable to breathe, because the dance floor was quickly consumed by those who wanted to move. Performing a twist with elements of rock and roll, the crowd threw quirky shadows on painted walls, along which the lovers kissed. And, as they say, everyone dances! Picked up by the general fun of Nancy turned and attracted Jody, and she, in turn, grabbed under her elbow timid Simran. They danced chaotically, fooled around, whirled in the chorus and, remembering to sing a song or another, sang along. The whole thing of parties - in unrestrained dancing, enjoyment that everyone dreams about, but is shy to say. By moving their hands and kicking their feet, people got closer to each other. There was not enough space for freedom of action, and still the costumers did not stop performing fashion pa. Simran laughed, wondered if anyone threw a volunteer in the air, marveled as confetti and shiny springs made of foil were thrown down from the balconies. Misura couched on all heads, causing cheers. Confused in their hairstyles, they fabulously transfused into the fire of LEDs, adding a festive atmosphere. Simran began to understand why her peers had such a love of dancing. She raised her hands up and whirled, trying to catch the colorful confetti falling out like a hail. The general euphoria was confined to the female reason, and Kiwi decided for herself that she would dance more often. The first group finished the performance and, having received the deserved love from the audience, came down from the stage, giving the opportunity to play the others. Ten songs were played, two bands performed. Then another one appeared - a ballad and blues. They are all completely different from each other, each with its charm, voice, desire to convey thoughts and feelings. People were thrown from extreme to extreme - from slow rhythm to rock. Incredible energy, for which «Tau-Haw» was so respected. Someone announced the next band. Simran heard the name by ear. It was the guys from «Independence Day». - Independence Day? - Taking a deep breath, Kiwi left the center of the dance floor and gratefully took from Jody a can of cola. - Ah? - Just announced. - Oh, that. Yeah. That’s the name. - Stop talking! - Nancy took Simran’s favorite soda can and swallowed the rest of her throats. - Let’s dance! Four appeared on the stage. Noticing the musicians, the audience whistled warmly and the girls chanted names. Pushing forward, Simran looked up and hesitated for a moment. She was confused by the appearance of the artists, who as if they had met by chance and, for fun, stood on scaffolds. One is dressed in a worn-out classic black suit, under whose jacket was an ordinary white nightshirt. From underneath her there were bundles of hair.The second, a clear fan of leather, put on his jacket and narrow trousers. His hair is white, cut from a hedgehog. The third, African-American roots, preferred a T-shirt and sports pants, obviously home, since there was a hole on the side of the right pant. They lit a cigarette, said Simran. The fourth one is more original than any other: what’s with the clothes? You can wear shorts. Kiwi stared at him the most until she finally laughed, remembering that it was the second half of September. The guy in a deuce showed up again, again called, only abbreviated - «Indie», and then, grasping with a cigarette, threw a cigarette on the floor and, pressing his shoe sole with a sharp movement, branded with a guitar. Brunette, catching the crowd’s attention with his charismatic measured voice, took the first note. For a short time, Simran closed her eyes to indulge in the rhythm of the dance. Melody threw it up to the sky. Everything essential became immaterial. Reality remained outside the walls of «Tau-Hau». Having arranged a dance sparring, the girlfriends playfully swung their hips, drowning in collective disorder. After the first song, which was diluted by the bass solo, Kiwi told her friends that she wanted to take a breath. Nancy and Jodi stayed where they were, while Simran tried to get through the crazy mass. However, this was not easy, as her requests to move were not heard because of the loud music. With a grip on her forehead, Simran retreated, experiencing strong dizziness. The soloist of the group announced the title of the second song. His bra was thrown onto the stage. The audience laughed, and the brunette picked up his underwear and vehemently turned it around on his finger. Following this spectacle, Simran angrily snorted. Funny - and sad! Suddenly she felt a strange roaring on the side. Looking back, Kiwi found a boy of fourteen or fifteen years in front of her. He looked her in the eye, pulled out a knitted purse from her purse without shame and quickly gave it away. While Simran was trying to regain consciousness by looking into a torn bag, which apparently had been worked with a knife, the boy was already halfway out. The thief put a hood on his head, obviously confused by his exposure, moved heavily with his feet. Through the hem of his thick jacket specifically jumped and was suspiciously skunky, and as soon as the boy dropped three other things from his pocket, such as wristwatches and a wallet, Simran guessed that today she had stolen more than one. - Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! A girl ran after the boy. The thief cleverly picked up his prey and took a step. Pushing everyone in his way, Kiwi almost got him. - Shit! Give me my money back! The boy ran up the stairs and, having grabbed a glass of juice from the girl, threw it directly under the feet of Simran, who did not expect such a trick, jumped away from the ladder. The peach juice splashed down the stairs, and the empty glass rolled into the corner. «Clairvoyant villain», - said Moss, raising her head, but the boy and the trail are gone. With upset feelings, she trampled her foot and, being overwhelmed, returned back to her friends. - Don’t be upset, it happens a lot around here. The girls, after finishing the concert, slowly went out into the street, facing a cold gust of wind that drove the clouds from the ocean side. Simran, tugging into her coat, sniffed annoyingly. She straightened out the naughty strings that were thrown in her face by the approaching cyclone, nodding weakly. She did not want to speak, except to swear, but there was no urine for that. The whole beautiful evening was clouded by one bitter event. Standing under the lamppost, the three of them looked behind their shoulders at the «Tau-Hau», from which the life-burners had left, and looked as if a miracle was to happen. But miracles do not come out of nowhere. - Do you want me to talk to Robbie? - Hoping to comfort my friend, suggested Jodie. - He hangs around a lot. - And he knows everyone - agreed with the thought of blonde Nancy, taking out of the pocket of a warm jacket a pack of cigarettes. Simran, as if holding back a grudge against the whole world, kept silent. The girls looked at each other, and Nancy told Joe to change the subject. - He didn’t just steal from me. I guess the kid’s a master. - We’ll kick his ass next time. - I’ll talk to Robbie. Hey! Cheer up! The money is not a virgin, it will come back - an orange laughed loudly, as one of the bartenders called her, and when she came across Nancy’s serious look, she coughed off. - Sorry. Stupid joke. Soon they began to think about how to get home. Remembering the bus stop, the schoolgirls went up the street. Simran ran behind everyone, but it was only to her advantage, because the next second she heard a loud door clatter and loudness coming from the backyard «Tau-Haw». There were no fences, only roadways along the kerbside covered with weeds. Simran would have gone further, only with a watchful eye could she recognize the wicked miscreant. A furious urge to call the thief sticks right in the throat, and Simran, frozen like a stone cast, stared at the unfolding scene before her. The same thief was talking to some guys. There were four of them, but I couldn’t see their faces. They were whispering something alive, after which the boy released from his solid pocket, which he put in a shirt, stolen goods. Coins, necklaces, lighters with engravings and other valuables rang out. Wallets were poured out, one after the other. «How many people did he rob?!» said Simran in amazement. - We told you only to take the money, stupid! - One of the unknowns flashed into the thief with a beautiful trinket. The boy scratched his back and clapped something in his defense. - Get away from him, - stood up for that second one and gave the deserved reward - a couple of bills, - lighters and other game you can keep. Sell to someone. Female curiosity is an unrestrained feeling. If a woman really wants to get to the truth, she will go for anything. Even madness. Simran, carefully stepping over the rubber, crept closer to the speakers. They split the money, put it in their pockets, and right before the eyes of the wretched Simran, the scoundrel who protected the boy, threw her purse into a ditch, putting the bills in the pocket of his black pants. From this vile gesture, blood poured into her head: it immediately stretched out, like a string, all around and lashed hatefully on the guy in the suit. The thief, having said goodbye to his fellow-conspirators, sprinted away in the opposite direction from Simran. Suddenly, blinking with tension, two lampposts in the courtyard of the building caught fire and the masks fell asleep. Simran learned from the crooks currently performing on stage. Independence Day. And as the reader has already guessed, they were our friends: Jack, Benny, Bubby and Rocky. Simran drooled. She couldn’t get over the truth for a long time, and then she started scolding herself at the thought of falling in love with the lead singer who was so cruel to her purse. Jack, who had a guitar on his back, said goodbye to his friends and, giving them all «five», stuck a cigarette between his teeth. However, before he smoked, he turned his head to the side where Simran was standing. In the middle of the room she looked like a ghost. Her skinny legs protected the black shoes, and her pretty dress above her knees contrasted with the color of her milk skin. He saw dimly the face, but that the girl was moody would have noticed even a blind man. Of course, Jack didn’t know why she was standing there and what made her angry. She looked at him. Purposefully. Suddenly the corner of his mouth slid up, giving a rude grin, when the thought of a mad fan arose in his head. He winked at her, lit a cigarette and turned around and left. That’s right. Simran, puzzled by the gestures of others, opened her eyelids wide and nodded in disbelief. Angry, humiliated, upset. She wanted to run after the musician, demand her money and also a deserved apology. But what can one girl do against a big guy? Right, write a statement to the police. No, wrong, because then her deception will be revealed and parents will never trust her. It seems to be a hype. Justice sometimes does not triumph. Perhaps that’s why it is customary to seek it. Simran, shaking herself numb, went to the stop where her friends were waiting. Together they returned to Brooklyn, and Kiwi lay in bed, as she had promised her father, at half past ten. But she fell asleep much later.