"Thank you, Ivanitch, for your warm welcome. Everything was fair. And the kitchen is good, and the bed is cozy.
– And we will remember your bathhouse for a long time, – the guest's wife Antonina supported, – it is different with you. I can't explain what exactly is different. They themselves have a bathhouse, and they have visited many different ones, but they have not met such a one before.
"That's for sure," Emelyan continued, " somehow it's all with your Soul, Ivanich, to such an extent with your Soul that you can feel it on the physical level. We will be passing through when we are still in these parts-we will definitely stop by. Thank you again.
After shaking hands firmly and passing something elusive, but very clear and valuable through the narrowing of his eyes, the guest put a few bills on the table and went with his wife to his car.
Ivanich watched the guests go until their car disappeared behind a hill. Then he nodded to himself, and walked slowly into the house.
"Thank you all very much," he said to the staff of the guest house, of which there were three people, " there, on the veranda, the guests left the payment, and a solid tip. Distribute it among yourself. We'll assume that this is your severance package. You don't have to come here for three days. Devote yourself to families, household chores, and pamper your kids. It's not the season, so I can handle it myself. I'll see you by Friday." Let's continue as usual.
The workers exchanged glances and went to the veranda after Ivanich left the room.
…
The workers ' cars left the territory of the guest house. The owner of the estate – Ivanich put the kettle on, and sat down in the kitchen and stared out the window. Monday was rarely a busy day, so today you didn't have to expect anything hectic.
Most of my life is behind me. About a third of Ivanich's head was already decorated with gray hair. But it did not shame his appearance at all, and even on the contrary – it gave charm. Nikolai Ivanovich has traveled a lot over the years. Even in his teenage years, he had a penchant for a philosophical worldview. Once, in those distant Soviet years, he sat like this in the kitchen, why at home, and looked out the window. He looked at the grass, at the dandelions, at the rare Pansies that adorned the front garden, and thought: "Interesting… for whom do herbs and flowers bloom from century to century? For what or for whom, after a long, exhausting Siberian winter, nature gathers its forces again and again and launches its creative mechanisms? To live for the sake of living? I doubt… This system is not so simple to have such simple aspirations»
A few more years passed, and Nikolai Ivanovich, being already a student of the Geological University, answered his long-standing question as follows:"All this is done for the sake of tourists, which at the moment we are."
That is why he came to the conclusion that the role of a tourist should be fully fulfilled. And even if his answer is wrong, then traveling around the world is at least an interesting activity. It's one thing to watch travel programs on TV, it's quite another thing to know for yourself how things are on this or that side of the world. In addition, scientific expeditions made it possible to learn the state of foreign affairs literally from the inside.
Nikolai Ivanovich managed to visit a lot of places, he managed to see and experience a lot of things. There were many funny cases over the years of fruitful favorite work, where without it, there were also tragic episodes. Loyal and not-so-loyal friends, two not-so-simple marriages, an adult child in the capital. Life as a whole turned out well. But the years were taking their toll. My health was no longer the same, although my wealth still allowed me to ride around the world, and my interest began to gradually fade. White, black, and yellow sands have not surprised the wise life experience of Nikolai Ivanovich for a long time. Europe, America, Africa and Australia have become almost native. He even visited the North Pole once, but before he could really understand what was going on, the expedition was urgently returned back to St. Petersburg, which was not the hometown of Nikolai Ivanovich. Something went wrong, and the details of the expedition were never revealed. In addition, as Nikolai Ivanovich learned much later, all the documents on that trip to the icy mainland went to the archive under the heading "top secret". That was all he knew.
There were many blank spots in its history, but the thought of the past was interrupted by the whistle of the boiling kettle. Ivanitch tore his eyes away from the Pansies that were swaying in the wind outside the window and hurried to turn off the stove. The whistling of the kettle gradually died away. But it was replaced by the clatter of the front doorbell.
The landlord looked at his watch; it was a quarter to two. It was daylight outside, but it was rather gloomy. Outside, the rain was beginning to fall. The doorbell rang again. The guests clearly did not want to stand the pause of etiquette. By the time Ivanitch reached the door and clicked the shutter, the bell had already rung a couple of times in the house.
