Hello! I would like to take part in this competition. All names appearing in the story are fictitious, any resemblance to real people is coincidental.
The city was damp, still dark and somehow especially fabulous. I rush along the wet asphalt to the appointed place. I look at my watch and I’m on time. Even if you still have about five minutes left, you can stand, breathe in the fresh, ozone-rich air, dream about buried treasures and mentally prepare yourself for the grueling search for ancient coins. Sergey, as always, is precise and punctual. At exactly 05:00 he is already lazily approaching the running car. We silently greet each other with a strong man’s handshake. I begin to pack his travel gear into the cramped, small-sized trunk of my hajback: a voluminous backpacker’s backpack, a lovingly packaged measuring device, and a sheathed, sharpened lucky shovel.
— You’re kind of sleepy today. So, again, my daughter didn’t let me sleep? – knowing that his little daughter gives me fever at night, I’m the first to break the long verbal pause.
— Yes, there was a bit of a noise show, — He answers reluctantly and immediately lets out a deliciously long yawn. His eyes are still cloudy, sleepy and indifferent to the surrounding reality.
— The road is long today, you still have time to sleep. You haven’t called Tolik yet?
— No, I didn’t call. “He will be like a bayonet at the appointed time,” Sergei answers, closing his eyes.
— Well, well, — I smile skeptically, without the slightest doubt that Tolik is still sleeping like a baby under a warm blanket.
Wet wheels rustle on the asphalt and throw dirty splashes in all directions. On FM waves, the flexible and slender Nyusha sings her hit of yesteryear, “I am now your memory.” I want to close my eyes and fall asleep for five minutes under her gentle voice. I shake my head and drive away the remnants of sleep. I suggest Sergei unfold the passenger seat and surrender to the power of the ancient Greek god Morpheus, but at the same time I ask him not to snore loudly.
There are very few cars in the city. Lonely taxi drivers traditionally group themselves near the Russian Appetite food pavilions: drinking hot coffee, chewing Slavic sandwiches, periodically looking around in the hope of finding a lonely and sleepy traveler who could potentially turn into their client and give them the opportunity to earn a piece of bread. We cross a long, almost empty bridge. Out of habit, I look around, automatically slowing down (video cameras work around the clock) and I see the perfectly smooth mirror surface of the morning river.
— Seryoga, come on, rate it, — I disturb my dozing partner, having noticed, while climbing the humpbacked railway bridge, a young, pretty freshman girl walking straight towards us.
— Yeees! Nice one… Honk at her!
I obediently press the horn several times. A sharp sound breaks the morning silence of the pre-dawn avenue. The girl raises her big blue eyes and somehow looks at us very good-naturedly, and at the same time questioningly and interestedly. The light summer dress sways slightly when walking, and the girl’s slender knees attract Sergei’s gaze. The measured click of thin heels can be heard even through closed car windows. The girl’s face is tired, sleepy and pretty. Light brown long hair falls on open frozen shoulders.
— Have you seen her cute hemp on her face? – Sergei asks admiringly, immediately waking up from sleep. – Maybe, fuck this cop? Let’s give her a ride home, otherwise she’ll freeze on the way…
— And this is what a married man tells me. Eh, Seryoga-Seryoga, you’re not ashamed yourself… But the girl is really pretty… I should punch that asshole in the face who didn’t take her home…
— How do you know, maybe she’s coming from a nightclub, — my partner objects, and we argue for some time about whether this girl is free or not.
Anatoly was not there. This was a complete surprise only for Sergei. He dialed him, and in response he heard that he would come in exactly three minutes. We ended up having to wait a good quarter of an hour. Again wet asphalt, lonely taxi drivers, and the morning May city, from which a huge number of residents left for their dachas, villages, or just to go to nature for the whole weekend. At the other end of the city, Kolya and Lyokha were already waiting for us, collected, focused and determined. Having transferred all the things and equipment from my car to Lyokhin’s huge green jeep, we started. All that remained was to cross paths with another member of the expedition, Zverkom, and in two cars move to the border of three regions.
The place where our whole friendly company gathered today was very interesting and theoretically promising. A large village stretching along the river is present on the PGM; it is also depicted on the black and white map. But the modern topography clearly shows that all the houses seem to have moved to another, more elevated bank of the river. One can only assume that the village burned down entirely, and the residents, remembering the spring floods, decided to rebuild higher. It would be unreasonable to expect that no one had been in this place before us. On the other hand — digging out all the colored signals from the ground at the site of a large settlement is also not realistic: something must definitely remain for us. In advance, even before leaving, a decision was made: if there are good finds, then we will stay overnight and work the whole next day. Therefore, the huge jeep was loaded with equipment: tents, sleeping bags, extra water…
Before this PGM village, desperate guys had already tried to leave a couple of times. And both times they dug their wheels deep into the late autumn and early spring black soil. Then the same local tractor driver pulled them out of the quagmire each time. This man, apparently, has acted as a rescue tow truck more than a dozen times, rescuing would-be diggers from the captivity of iron horses in the earth, and then dragging them on a thick sinewy cable to a hard, dry road. But real adventurers and adventure seekers cannot be stopped by such “little things.” As they say: God loves a trinity!
It took a very long time to get to the desired point, using the navigator to plot alternative detour routes. The original shortest and fastest route was covered with a copper basin – the muddy creeping road ran into a narrow shallow stream, across which a bridge, or rather a pitiful semblance of it, was thrown. If our search group had gone for antiquities in an army armored personnel carrier, we would have overcome this water obstacle without any problems. But Alexey’s dark green jeep is very similar to a large, clumsy crocodile, even if it could drive along the rotten, flimsy bridge, it would definitely not be able to climb the steep hill. It was literally a stone’s throw from the bridge to the field we needed, well, about five kilometers… Another good two hours were spent wandering dusty between plantings, fields, ravines and swampy lowlands. In one place, we crossed a destroyed dam at our own risk: heavy rains washed away a huge area of soil, which was now fenced off with posts and red and white tape rustling disgustingly in the wind.
Having experienced all the ordeals of treasure hunters wandering and winding through unfamiliar terrain, we finally found ourselves in the right field. All our previous efforts were fully rewarded. The search field turned out to be simply ideal: absolutely flat and dry, despite the recent heavy rains, without agricultural crops, only here and there patches of last year’s grain crops stuck out like gray coins. Sergei and I decided to walk across the field for the purpose, in military terminology, of reconnaissance. The field made us happy again: everywhere we walked, we came across fragments of ancient ceramics. But “colleagues’ pits were found everywhere” we did not find. Meanwhile, the guys had already uncovered and armed themselves with shovels, and set up their instruments from the ground. Everyone was more enthusiastic than ever; no one even wanted to have a brunch. Well, go ahead! Coins that have lain ownerless in the ground for hundreds of years are already missing the warmth of human hands…
Tolik was the first to come across the old coin. Pavlovsk two kopecks. And then it started – off we went. We all ran around the field like crazy. They waved the coils of instruments. They desperately stabbed the sharp bayonets of their shovels into the ground. Nikolay found the icon. Someone then raised a cross. Lyokha dug up Alexander’s two kopecks. Sergei knocked out of the ground Catherine’s coin, worn out and eaten by herbicides. A button, a ring, forged nails, buckles, whole and broken. All the finds were found in approximately the same linear direction; perhaps this was where there was a long row of houses. But soon we had to move to the side from our original place. The long-term influence of MTF began to appear more and more clearly and strongly: nuts, light bulbs, pieces of broken chains, aluminum vodka caps, caps of small bottles of veterinary medicines, and all sorts of other characteristic rubbish. My patience ran out when I picked up the copper round. I was already glad that I had found a large copper coin (the round piece was the size of a ring nickel, or like a Masonic 10 kopecks), but it turned out to be an ordinary copper round and absolutely smooth spacer or spacer. What finally finished me off was a black plastic oil can, which my eyes discovered literally three steps from the false coin. I threw the oil can over my right shoulder into a huge bottomless pocket of army unloading, where other metal and not only metal trash was conveniently located. He touched his wet and sweaty back, like a racehorse’s, with a dirty palm. Streams of salty sweat dripped from my face. He took out a flask of water, took a couple of small sips of nasty warm water, poured it on his hair, wet his cap generously and wandered across the field again.
— Why the hell did we even come here? I only found one cross and that’s it! Everything here was knocked out before us three years ago. It would be better if I stayed at home and continued to putty and paint the client’s car – I would earn more. I’ll walk around for another hour and then I’ll go home. – The Animal whined and was indignant. And I just nodded my head and agreed with him. Well, what else can you say to an upset person who came 300 miles away in the hope of finding the golden imperial of Catherine the Second and instantly improving his financial situation. And contrary to my expectations, I dug up only a petal cross, which costs only one liter of 95 gasoline.
— Yes, there are holes here from last year. But it’s practically impossible to knock out and clear the entire field; something will remain, — I tried to cheer up the Animal and convince myself that I needed to continue to purposefully search. Eh, I wish I hadn’t done this…
— Yes, you know how such fields are knocked out ?! I’ll tell you now… Several people line up in a ladder, at a certain distance, so that the instruments do not argue with each other, and walk across the field. Then back. And so within a day this entire area is cleared. – His words conveyed the practical experience of the so-called “staircase” passages, when the clearing turned into a lifeless desert. And for some reason I immediately didn’t want to communicate with this person.
The sun rose higher and higher, and soon it was at its zenith. The air, heated to the limit, became even hotter. The stuffiness gradually turned into unbearable heat. So much for the first half of May!? The water in the flask was already practically boiled. Salty, disgusting sweat covered my eyes. The skin on my hands asked and begged to be washed with cool water, removing grains of black soil and salt crystals. All these unfavorable factors contributed to the search and shelter in the saving shadow. It was decided to take a short smoke break: have lunch, drink water from the bottles lying under the car and, after resting a bit, go out into the field again…
After resting, everyone scattered in different directions, reminiscent of a flock of sheep lost in the Caucasus mountains, left without a shepherd. I decided to explore the area, in which the raised hillocks near the river were clearly visible. Yes, my intuition did not let me down, this is where houses were located in the old days. A dozen fresh, unfilled holes testified to the correctness of my assumption. There was clearly nothing left for me to do on these pretty hillocks, so I went towards the river. There’s probably a pot with a huge amount of Elizabeth and Catherine’s nickels buried here somewhere. I spent more than a couple more hours crushing the fresh, juicy green grass with my feet and remembering one story about finding Catherine’s bookmark near the river, but I didn’t catch a single coin or a single pot of nickels. I would probably walk near the river until the evening, motivating myself and imagining how I would get a pot, and then I would divide the green pantry nickels among everyone. But then, at the very top of the hill (and I was walking with the device in a lowland, in the floodplain of the river), a tired, almost boiled in the sun Lyoshka appeared and said that he had come for me.
While he and I were driving across the entire field to the opposite end of the ancient disappeared village, he told us how he met his colleagues literally half an hour ago in a bright green classic. Alexey wanted to talk to the natives of the local search, but as soon as they saw him, they immediately threw tools and shovels into the car, madly jumped inside, and leaving huge clouds of black earth dust disappeared behind the planting. Lyokha could only stand and wonder who they took him for. Perhaps for the farmer who rented this field for sowing and came to administer pills to uninvited guests. During the entire afternoon search, Lyokha found a Nikolaev penny and something from the reign of Alexander II.
When we got to the main group, we learned that everyone recognized Seryoga as the hero of the day today. In fact, it should be noted that Sergei is also one of those lucky ones. Every time he finds something interesting. He is recognized in our company as the most valuable expert on ancient maps. Constantly studying the PGM, reviewing millimeter by millimeter of Strelbitsky, Shubet and Mende, he discovers promising areas for search, where we then all go in a flock of hungry locusts. So, today Sergei found Catherine the Second’s worn ten-kopeck piece in the middle of the field. And for a long time he was indignant at the fact that he could not read the year on a smooth silver coin. Then he infuriated everyone with his public statement: “It would be better if I never found this ten-kopeck coin at all than in such a state of preservation!” Well, he’s a shameless impudent fellow, he’s an impudent boor! I’m completely fed up, and I’m no longer happy with even an imperial ten-kopeck piece. What a bastard he is! After some time he was again in the most upset feelings. Then he began to encourage everyone to call it a day, get ready and go back on course. It turns out that he had been listening to a very clear coin signal for a long time. He stood, waved the coil over a round object made of non-ferrous metal, enjoyed the ringing sounds in his ears, and talked to the signal. “Well, hello, rublik, my beloved! Well, hello, handsome silver man! I lay here and that’s enough, come on, go to daddy!” But instead of the long-awaited, albeit very worn, and often in circulation ruble, a green round piece with a large capital letter “P” fell out of the lump of earth, the tips of the legs were curved like a fancy snail and the Roman numeral “I” in the middle.
Everyone was assembled. Everyone except Kolya. As always, he climbed somewhere and did not want to respond to our screams and the loud horns of two dusty cars. While they were calling for the lost one, Lyokha decided not to waste time and walk around with the device. And soon his find slightly overshadowed the successful and arrogant Seryoga. Literally a hundred steps from the cars, from a depth of ten centimeters, lay a nickel from 1791 AM in a luxurious green patina. But these were not all the surprises in store for today’s hot May day…
A tired, dirty, but very happy Nikolai soon appeared from the ravine. He walked slowly towards us, his face simply beaming with a happy smile. It was immediately clear that he had found something very interesting. He slowly sat down on one knee and carefully placed the shovel and device in the grass. At the same time, he continued to firmly hold the whole clay pot in his hands. Not believing our eyes, we all didn’t utter a word… And didn’t even move from our seats.
— I FOUND!!! I FOUND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Perhaps I was the first to emerge from some kind of magical stupor. And at first, not at a fast pace, but then faster and faster he walked towards Kolya. Probably, my confident, purposeful rapprochement with the happy owner of a heavy pot made on everyone else the same impression that a man running away in fear makes on an angry dog… After me, the Animal came out of his stupor, he rushed after me, but realizing that even if he ran like crazy, he will still only be the second to see the contents of the pot. The animal quickly jumped into its Niva and began to move with some wheelspin. Rushing past madly, he showered me with a solid cloud of black earth dust, which immediately made my teeth crunch, and my nostrils turned into two Dnepropetrovsk mines with a huge amount of coked coal. The thought flew through my head like a stray arrow from the forest robber Robid Hood that now the Animal would knock down happy Nikolai, take the pot of coins and disappear in an unknown direction. If Kolya had not deftly jumped to the side, the Animal would have definitely run into him and crushed him into a liquid cake.
I didn’t immediately look in and examine the contents of the pot. The first thing I did was pick up a prospector’s tool thrown into the grass at the very edge of the ravine. Thus earning a plus in his eyes. From the widened, amazed eyes of the Animal, I realized that the ancient pot was full. I only looked into it for a second. then he went to meet the rest of the exhausted adventurers.
— Well, what’s there? TREASURE??? – Sergei asked in a loud trembling bass from the opposite end of the field. I silently just nodded my head to him in confirmation. But then he couldn’t stand it and somehow detachedly (and I didn’t know what to do in such situations, after all, it’s not every day that you find pantry pots) he said:
— Yes, he is the one!
— I told you… I told you… The place exploded! – Seryoga yelled, tearing his throat. He screamed at the top of his lungs and ran at a mad gallop, while Tolik and Lyokha tried to keep up behind him in the raised dust. Now they all looked like huge wild two-legged mammoths. Sergei especially resembled him. I have never seen such a happy expression on his face before.
— Guys! Guys! I found him! – Kolya shouted and did not let go of the pot, and the Animal did not give up trying to become an assistant porter.
— The place has exploded! Someday we too should have had a story! The place took off! – Sergei, rushing past, moved his hand so hard on my back, which had been burned a few days ago, that I almost fell off my feet, closed my eyes from the hot burning pain and did not answer him. I no longer turned towards the rejoicing people. But for a very long time the echo carried along the riverbed, along the deep overgrown ravine and across the spacious field dug up by the shovels of history buffs, fragments of phrases… “That place-oh-oh-oh… Shot out”
Of course, you, my dear reader, may have a question of healthy curiosity: what was there in that pot? They were lying inside the pot. The pot itself was a little unusual. Firstly: the neck was tightly sealed with some kind of compound that had hardened over time, which prevented moisture from entering from above. Secondly: on its pot-bellied and convex barrel there was a neatly made hole, like a hole after a successful torpedo attack on an enemy tanker. Perhaps, we can only assume that through this side hole a small amount of coins was carefully removed without damaging the solid “rivet” at the top.
Sent by comrade «I’ll be better»
