House. Room. Not to say that the order. Oleg is sitting on a stool in the middle of the room. He is somewhat confused and discouraged. He looks drooping. He shuffles a crumpled man's shirt in his hand.
From behind the scenes, another man's shirt, thrown by a woman's hand, flies onto the stage, then another.
Taisiya (shouting nervously from behind the scenes). You're sitting like an idol even now! There is no need to help with things to a woman who devoted her best years to you. The whole closet is full of shirts, try, get to the dresses. Why are you sitting there? Why are you silent? Nothing to say? That's it! I've had to manage you all my life! Oleg-Oleg, Oleg-Oleg, Oleg-Oleg! Do this, bring that, fix it here, fix it there! You've never been able to make your own decisions! Well, admit it already, finally, you've never been a man!
Taisiya throws a few more shirts of Oleg from behind the scenes, enters the room with a suitcase, wipes the sweat from her face, looks accusingly at her husband. Taisiya looks very impressive, she is really gorgeous. And the figure and the appearance and the attire. Everything is on the highest level, which can not be said about her husband. Oleg is simple, he is a hard worker and it can be read literally in everything.
Oleg (trying to speak calmly, affectionately and tenderly, with warmth). Taisiya, dear, maybe you're still…
Taisiya (interrupting nervously). OOOH! Look, the voice has cut through! I'm not your darling anymore! That's it! Forget me, loser.
Taisiya turns to the other side and calls her son.
Taisiya (shouts to her son). Vova! Well, where are you there? Hurry up, the car is already waiting downstairs.
Taisiya turns to her husband.
Taisiya (with hatred). As you understand, I'm taking my son, I'll file for alimony, be ready. I'm going to Misha. It should have been a long time ago! Here he is a man! And you're a rag! Now sit here alone and think about who you are and what you are! Good luck at the factory, loser!
Taisiya casts a haughty glance at her husband, takes the last things and leaves with a sense of dignity.
Vovka's son hurriedly enters the room with a backpack full of things and several bags also filled with things. He doesn't know how to behave. He is sincerely sorry that everything turned out this way, he loves his father, just like his father.
Oleg (cautiously, with trepidation, with warmth, to his son). Son, can you come with me?
Vovka (guiltily, with sadness). Dad, I'm sorry. I don't want this, but…
Oleg (cautiously, with trepidation, with warmth, to my son). Yes, yes, I understand… Taisiya
's cry from behind the scenes (nervously). Vova, son, we are just waiting for you, quickly down!
Vovka throws the bags and rushes to hug his father, the father throws the shirt he was fiddling with on the floor, gets up from the stool, hugs his son. They embrace with warmth and genuine feelings of father and son.
Vovka (guiltily, with sadness, with a tear). I love you, Father, I love you, don't think…
Oleg (carefully, with trepidation, with warmth, to my son). I know, son. I understand everything. And I love you… I really love…
hugging.
Oleg (cautiously, with trepidation, with warmth, to his son). Okay…
Vovka reluctantly lets go of his father, takes his bags and backpack, hurriedly leaves the apartment.
Oleg accompanies his son with a sad, courageous look, he remains alone. It's holding up. Attached. Slowly picks up his shirts from the floor, puts them insensibly somewhere in one place. Comes to the forefront.
Oleg (with warmth, barely restraining dignity and honor, to the viewer). Loser… The wife is right. Luck has never been my middle name. I have not achieved any outstanding heights in my life. I didn't get a good education, I didn't make any discoveries. I have not created something great, for so many years of working at the factory, I have not even climbed the career ladder one step. And it is quite obvious that I will not rise any more. I work and work. I am an ordinary replaceable cog of a huge social system. I am worn out – I will simply be replaced and forgotten. Therefore… Arguing with my wife is difficult. Yes… I'm a loser, that's right. But how do I differ, in essence, from most people? We all somehow work somewhere, we try to provide for our families. And those who strive for this – somehow manage to do it. I have a beautiful wife… was. Son, what kind of guy, huh? Well… You saw. A very good boy. I tried not to spoil him too much, but not to pinch him too much. We go hiking and fishing with him. For mushrooms and berries. He knows a lot of things. At least make a fire, at least dig a dugout. The guy will not be lost, I am calm for him. And here is Taisiya… She somehow stayed at home for the most part, but she was always disappearing with her friends…, and with friends of Lee… But I have never reproached her for this. I provide, she keeps the family hearth. But… something is our family hearth somehow… not very well preserved. Things happen. Life is rarely smooth and predictable. I tried to do everything for the family, but… I didn't try hard enough to know.
Oleg leaves in silent reverie, lifting his legs heavily…
ZTM.
