Rise of London Gambler. Second edition. Serik Jumanov
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Название: Rise of London Gambler. Second edition
Автор: Serik Jumanov
Издательство: Издательские решения
Жанр: Современная русская литература
isbn: 9785448509353
isbn:
“Cool, let’s go!” said Mike. “There’s nothing left in here. Let me talk to Santiago, let’s find him. He should be around.”
They went out the shop and walked down the street. Sounds of sirens were in the air but they seemed to be far away. All small shops were closed with their steel shutters locked, but one shop remained open. Young guys were looting the shop while a lame old woman with a walking stick in her hand was shouting at them:
“That’s disgusting! Shame on you! Is this what Martin Luther King was fighting for?! Shame on you! You don’t deserve to have proper human rights; you’re just plain old scum! You hear me?! Animals! Vandals!”
Some youngsters who were approaching the shop started to hesitate. The old woman stood near the door and looked straight into the eyes if anyone who was trying to enter the shop. Some guys were recording her on a video with their smart phones and having fun.
“Well, you know, she might be right,” said John. He continued, “Why rob somebody’s shop if you have a problem with the police? Shop owners aren’t responsible for shooting that poor lad dead. I hope the shop owner has insurance.”
“Insurance?!” exclaimed Mike. “Fuck sake, what insurance you talking about, man? I am sure the guy can’t afford insurance because they can’t even pay minimal wage to the men that slave in their shops! This guy is really fucked up now, and there’s nothing he can do about it! Fuck, they have to get some supermarkets like Tesco, not the poor Indian man’s shop! Now rich people will get richer again, and poor people will get poorer. This country is really fucked up, that’s what I think!”
There lingered a short silence.
“Look, it’s Santiago!” Mike pointed out to the other side of the street and they ran towards each other.
“What’s up, bro! What a fucking day, eh!” Mike smiled to Santiago and his mates. “We just saw that bookie, it’s totally empty. Nothing left except chairs and tables!”
“Do you see this?” Santiago wasn’t listening. He looked high and overexcited. There was a gun in his hand.
“Where’d you get that?!” asked Mike, but at that very moment, the siren of an approaching police car could be heard. Santiago turned his head like a hunting cat.
“C’mon, let’s fuck it! I’ll shoot those fucking bastards! Eye for an eye! Let’s have some fun!” Santiago was shaking his gun in the air. John pounced on him and caught his hand with the gun, trying to put it down and cover it from the sight of the oncoming police car.
“For God sake, hide it!!! What are you doing?! Santiago, hide it!!! Are you in a fucking movie?! You’ll be safer if you don’t show them your gun, believe me! You’re not John Wayne. This is South London, not a bloody Western movie! Hide your gun and let’s fuck off from here!”
Santiago calmed down a little. The police car stopped at the guys, and a policeman asked:
“Everything’s alright, guys?”
“Yes, sir, we’re just watching why there’s so much noise around here”, said Mike, pretending to look like a good schoolboy.
The policeman looked over the guys thoroughly. “Come on, they have nothing in their hands, let’s go, Tom!” said a voice inside the car.
“You better go home, guys,” said the policemen and drove to the Indian’s small shop.
“I’m going home, Mikey. I’ve had enough for today,” said John angrily. “Shit, this is only a Monday. See you, guys!”
“Okay, see you, bro!”
John left the “scene” and headed towards the flat. He did not want to stay with the armed guys as you never know what is going to happen next, and he thought the best decision in this situation is to come back home.
“Fuck, if somebody had told me about it a week ago, I’d have never believed…”
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The referee pointed for a corner kick.
“Shit, it’s going to be a goal” murmured John, taking a position near the post.
His height did not allow him to be successful with headers when playing football so he always took position near the posts when an opponent team had a corner kick. He looked around to see where Mike is and found him marking a tall guy, a central defender of the opponent team. The corner kick was taken, the ball was crossed to the area of penalty kick where the opponent striker was the first to head it – just into the net – goal!!! Goalkeeper looked helpless. The opponent team roared and began to greet each other, crawling around the striker.
It was only a couple of minutes to the end of the match. Score now was 1—1, and it was really unlikely to score again in such a tight game. The wind became stronger and colder, blowing the leaves towards John’s opponent team goal. Darren, the manager of Fulham Compton Football Club – the team John and Mike were playing for – looked satisfied, though.
The game restarted, and John, who was in a position of a central midfielder, got the pass from a teammate. He dribbled into the opponent half but nobody seemed to be supporting him. He took a quick look around – no; there were no options in the attack. Another moment of intuition struck him as he was dribbling alone. The defender was approaching to block and tackle him. John shot intuitively from long distance. The wind blew the ball and it lobbed the opponent team goalkeeper – right under the crossbar!
“Goaaaaaaal!!!” He cried, being intoxicated with joy, and ran with raised hands to his teammates who were jumping and running to greet him.
“Great, man! We fucking did it!!! High five! Yeah!!!” Congratulations and cheering were coming like a waterfall.
“I can’t believe it!” John was laughing happily. “It’s just my lucky day!”
“Heads up!” shouted opponent’s manager to his players. “Let’s play!!!”
The match soon finished, and the players went to the dressing rooms and showers. Darren, the team manager, John and Mike decided to meet at the clubhouse near the pitch to watch a football match on TV.
“It’s a good idea to talk to a manager. Darren seems to be an adequate guy, and if he invites you to have a beer with him, there are strong reasons for that, believe me,” said John talking to Mike. “Also, the waitresses are Fulham Compton’s women team players!” smiled John.
“OK, let’s go. Do you know, how much is the beer at the clubhouse?” asked Mike but John didn’t hear him since it was very noisy in the dressing room.
Darren was sitting at the table in the bar and taking probably the best seats to watch TV. He waved his hand СКАЧАТЬ