Pathetic! Hey, pathetic!”
Sasha doesn’t turn around; he knows it’s Volodya from the fifth floor. It’s better not to respond. Maybe he’ll leave him alone.
“Alexander!” Volodya persists. “Look at him, so hardworking. New Year’s Eve, and he’s working. That’s right! Fools love work.”
“Leave Sashenka alone! Why are you picking on him?” That’s Lenochka, Volodya’s girlfriend.
She’s much kinder than Volodya himself. She doesn’t insult Sasha. She doesn’t call him a fool or pathetic; she always greets him.
There, they seem to have left. Sasha leans his shovel against the bench and turns around—indeed, they’ve gone. He can take a break, dream a little.
Sasha is already thirty-five, but he still believes that miracles sometimes happen. Especially around New Year’s. Even small ones. For instance, yesterday…
His mom was so upset that they didn’t have a Christmas tree:
“It’s sad, Sashka. It used to be different, remember? Kinder, sort of. And we almost decorated a tree every year. You remember, don’t you?”
Sasha remembers. He would have bought a tree for his mom this year too. But he can’t. She would scold, get nervous. She clearly said: “Don’t even think about it! It’s unjustifiably expensive! We’ll manage!”
And just imagine: this morning, they asked him to clear the snow at the Christmas tree market. Sasha cleared the dirty slush trampled by hundreds of feet, threw out the pine debris, and sprinkled sand on the path leading to the fenced area with trees.
“Good job, thank you!” said the plump, ruddy-faced tree seller. “How should I pay you? Want a tree? Take one from the rejects over there.”
Of course, Sasha agreed. He picked out a suitable tree from the pile. It’s a bit bare on one side, but that’s not scary: Sasha will place it in the corner, the unsightly side hidden, and all the beauty visible. Oh, how his mom will rejoice, what a festive smell will fill the room… Now the tree stands in the hallway, in a corner, so as not to bother the residents. Sasha anticipates carrying it home. Just after he finishes cleaning the paths to the entrances.
“Sash, be a friend!” that’s the neighbor from the second floor, Alexei.
He’s good, even though he’s a “bourgeois,” as his mom calls him. Alexei never offends Sasha. But often asks him for something. Sasha usually doesn’t refuse. He loves to help. And he loves his job.
“Sashka, the snowplow buried me, help out!” Alexei asks.
Sasha grabs the shovel and follows Alexei to his car. Big, beautiful, expensive… Today, only the roof sticks out of the snowbank.
“Is this how they clean?” Alexei complains. “Ah, if I don’t swear, there’s nothing to say! Will you help?”
Sasha nods and gets to work. There’s a lot of snow, and with each swing, the shovel feels heavier, but he quickly manages. Alexei is pleased. Dives into the cabin.
“Thank you, Sashka! Here, take this! Happy holiday to you!” He hands Sasha a beautiful, shiny bag decorated with snowflakes.
Sasha looks inside and freezes: a whole treasure inside. A jar of red caviar, champagne, a chocolate bar, a cute pink bauble for the tree… He looks up at Alexei, thanks him.
“Ah, it’s nothing!” Alexei smiles and reaches into his pocket, pulls out bills, stuffs them into Sasha’s work jacket pocket. “And this is for the work!”
Sasha feels awkward: both the gift and this… He wants to say something, but Alexei isn’t listening anymore, starts the car, and leaves.
Sasha hurries home. He needs to bring the tree and Alexei’s gift, then finish clearing the paths. The snow keeps falling…
“Where from?” asks his mom, as a proud Sasha sets up his tree in the corner and hands his mother the shiny bag.
She’s so surprised. Sasha quickly explains that they gave him the tree for his work and the bag, and also money. His mom smiles, and he’s happy: he fulfilled at least one of her wishes, made her happy. She even sits on the bed, reaching for her flannel, warm robe. She’s not feeling well today. She’s been unwell often lately.
The doorbell rings. Sasha opens it: it’s their neighbor, Olya. She visits mom. Sometimes gives her injections. Sasha likes Olya: kind, beautiful, works at the hospital. His mom likes her too:
“Ah, Sashka, if only you had such a wife!”
Sasha usually just shrugs. He has resigned himself to the fact that he probably won’t have a wife. He knows women love handsome, rich, and smart men. And he is neither.
“But you’re hardworking and kind,” his mom counters, then admits Sasha’s point. “Yes, that’s not valued nowadays. A pity.”
Olya wouldn’t likely be his wife either. Even if she were free… But she’s married. Her Pasha— a decent man, but they argue often. Sasha hears their quarrels through the thin walls.
“I’m tired, I’m spinning like cursed. Just want some peace at home! But no! You’ve filled your eyes again,” Olya shouts.
“I didn’t,” Pasha is heard faintly, he doesn’t shout, just raises his voice a bit. “Had a little drink, now I’ll warm up dinner for you. Don’t scold, Olenka.”
But she can’t stop. She shouts, then cries, and only after that does she quiet down. From their arguments, Sasha knows why Olya is so unhappy. Her dad was a drunkard. Ruined her mom’s life. Olya fears the same fate will befall her. Usually, they reconcile quickly. But sometimes Pasha leaves the house and sits for a long time on a bench…
“How’s mom?” Olya asks, Sasha shrugs and escorts her to the room.
Then he gets ready and goes to finish the job.
He shovels snow and thinks to himself: “Need to stop by the store, buy something for the holiday table. Alexei’s money came in very handy.” They and his mom had expenses this month. Medications are expensive, and mom got sick. She has some benefits, as a pensioner, and Sasha works, but still, there’s hardly any money left before the holiday.
Finally, Sasha assesses his work with a critical eye: he’s satisfied. Time for the store. He shops smartly. Maybe he’s no professor, but he knows how to count money. Buys everything he wanted, and even a package of cheap sausages on sale.
The sausages are for the dog that followed him as soon as he left the yard. It walked with Sasha to the store doors, and he promised it a treat. Let it have a holiday too.
Exiting through the glass doors, Sasha squats down, tears open the package with his teeth, pulls a sausage out of the pink plastic, and offers it to the dog. It stretches its gray nose towards Sasha’s hand, grabs the sausage, chews, purrs with pleasure. Sasha feels sorry for the dog. It seems old… No collar, could it be no one’s?
He stands up, slaps his thigh: let’s go. The dog wags its tail and follows Sasha. They approach the entrance together.
Olya’s husband, Pavel, sits dejectedly on a bench. Sasha greets him. Pavel lifts his head, nods, slaps the bench:
“Sit with me, Sanek. I feel sick. The holiday is just around the corner, and we’ve fought again. So fiercely! I don’t blame her. She’s at her wit’s end. She asked me not to drink until the chimes, but I had a shot. So she got mad. ‘Go,’ she says, ‘celebrate somewhere else if you can’t hear my requests!’ So I left… Wanted her to calm down. Now I don’t know how to return. And whether I should? She was really angry today.”
Sasha listens, the dog circles his legs. He feels sorry for Pavel, sorry for Olya, but what to say, he doesn’t know. He’s not strong in relationships between men and women. And anyway, it’s time to go home, the dog is completely frozen: trembling all over its small body. And he should really decorate the tree… So he suggests to Pavel to come to their place.
“Why would you need me?” Pavel waves it off, but hope glimmers in his eyes.
Sasha says he’s needed, that he’ll be a guest, that it’s not right for a person to be alone on a holiday evening in the cold. Pavel nods. They climb the stairs.
Sasha doesn’t manage to open the door. From the neighboring apartment, their neighbor, old lady Masha, peeks out.
“Oh, it’s you…” she says, disappointed. “I was hoping.”
Sasha wishes the neighbor a happy upcoming New Year and asks why her eyes are red, did she cry? Old lady Masha sobs. Sasha is surprised. Just the day before, as she rushed to the store, she radiated happiness: “My daughter is supposed to come, bring my grandson! Need to make some salads, bake a pie! I’ll run, lots to do!” And here you have it—tears.
“They didn’t come,” old lady Masha sighs. “Some business… Everyone’s busy nowadays, no time for their mother!”
Pavel awkwardly comforts her. Sasha has a wonderful idea. He invites old lady Masha to join them. Why should she sit alone… She hesitates, tentatively refuses, but eventually nods:
“I’ll come by soon, just need to grab my cooking from home, else who will eat it?”
Pavel offers to help her. Sasha and the dog enter their apartment.
“Who’s this?” his mom wonders.
She looks better. Sasha tells her how he met the dog, then Pavel, and then old lady Masha. How he invited them all over. He hopes his mom doesn’t mind. She doesn’t need to do anything. He’ll set the table, decorate the tree, and clean up afterwards.
“Can I help with anything?” his mom smiles. “Like, name the dog.”
Sasha nods contentedly.
“Mushka? Nochka? Sooty? Secret!”
Sasha likes the name. The dog seems pleased, wags its tail, looks endearingly into his mom’s eyes.
The front door bangs: probably Pavel with old lady Masha. Time to prepare for New Year’s Eve.
They sit at the table. Pavel fidgets, gets nervous, finally can’t stand it:
“I’ll go home after all, apologize to Olya. I can’t like this.”
Sasha nods: probably that’s right. Pavel stands up, apologizes, congratulates. His apology is interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Incredible,” his mom says. “We haven’t had so many guests all year.”
Sasha hurries to the doors, lets Olya into the hallway.
“Have you seen my husband? He left and disappeared… I yelled at him today. I’m ashamed.”
Sasha smiles, invites Olya in. Pavel hugs his wife, kisses her on the cheek, begs her forgiveness.
“Just make up already and stay. It’s time to send off the Old Year!”
Olya agrees, settles next to her husband. In the corner, the tree twinkles with lights. On mom’s favorite chair, the well-fed Secret dozes. Olya stands up, raises her glass:
“Thank you all for everything! Especially you, Sasha! You’re a good man! I wish you find a worthy woman.”
Sasha blushes, thanks her. He really wants to believe that Olya’s wish will come true. Maybe there really is someone out there who will love Sasha just as he is. He understands all about himself… Yes, he’s not too smart. But he knows how to love and care.
Maybe… But even if nothing happens this year, like in all previous years, Sasha won’t be downhearted. After all, he has a job, his mom, good people around. And now a dog too. And he is quite happy.