ADJATA

                       ADJATA

 21st century – a new millennium, new technological achievements, changed concepts of many things like gender, sexuality, traditions, national identity, and other transformations. Young people accept everything as some kind of natural given, while older ones – with reservations, negativity, and even clear resistance. But almost everyone embraced computers, the internet, and the ability to communicate, express themselves on so-called "social networks," where you can even falsify everything that comes to mind, including your appearance and inner self. Humanity doesn't realize that such addictive websites tarnish everything possible, create conditions for intentional and unintentional lies, delusions, and deceits, not to mention total control and misuse of personal data. Networks like Facebook become fields for venting complexes, promoting fake news, political provocations, advertising all sorts of junk, and blatant propaganda for various parties, religious communities, and all sorts of gatherings. But one of the most dreadful consequences is the belittlement of the word "friend," because this word is as significant as the Mont Blanc peak in the Alps. On social networks, everyone is friends, without hindrance to curse, insult, and swear with all their possible malice. No one senses that moral concepts like "love," "correctness," "loyalty," and "friendship" lose their sacred meaning and turn into ordinary words without any significance. And these are sacred symbols, these are the concrete foundations of a strong and promising society that, relying on them, would withstand any challenge. Now the new generations would mock the examples of absolute and pure friendship between men, unless they're in a standard homo relationship. Yes, the 21st century doesn't regard stories of Orestes and Pylades, Achilles and Patroclus, Arthur and Lancelot, or Spartacus and Crassus as normal, welcoming them with derision, mockery, and even disdain, which they absolutely do not deserve. The same attitude isn't deserved by the saga of the two neighbors who, besides sharing a common fence, also share a common fate, continuing through the years until now.

 It happens that in a Polish village, two neighboring women give birth on the same day to healthy and robust boys, whom they name after their grandfathers – Vasil and Petar. But unfortunately for Petar's mother, she has no milk to feed her newborn son, while Vasil's mother's milk flows abundantly. And so, the two of them roll up their sleeves and feed the boys with milk – one from one breast and the other from the other, for a whole year. Luckily, they live house by house, and as they say, the mothers pass their babies over the fence for each other's nursing. They baptize them in the same church on a Sunday, and their happy parents take advantage of the occasion, having the same priest consecrate them to eternal friendship as blood brothers, sucking the same milk, from the same place. Vasil and Petar grew up nearly inseparable, in perfect harmony. They never quarreled, never fought, never did one of them complain that the other had offended or hurt him. They studied in the same class, enrolled in the same technical school, and even together obtained their professional driver's licenses. They didn't resemble each other externally, but people were so used to them that they almost regarded them as brothers. Their characters were so alike that they found understanding and compromises in their relationship. However, they were fundamentally different, not only in the color of their hair and mustaches but also in manners, attitudes toward life, and especially towards the "opposite gender," as Vasil liked to put it. He was more open, more audacious, more arrogant, and cheekier, while his blood brother presented himself as a modest silent type who blushed at every girl's glance and lost his composure and speech when he had to speak, even to his fellow female students. This didn't prevent him from accompanying his neighbor to various parties, gatherings, military enlistments, and birthdays. However, Vasil was not at all reserved with the ladies and became known as the number one womanizer in the village, if not in the entire vicinity, and this couldn't help but affect his relationships with the other lads. During those times, competition was fierce, even though there were girls for everyone, and very often, Petar ended up in a brawl alongside the instigator of the dispute, who was quite logically named Vasil. But before they were drafted into the army, the open-hearted Don Juan fell into the trap of "cross-eyed Sunday" and was married through the shortened procedure and the Zlobin method, which was just entering the system of socialist competitions. At the wedding, Petar got drunk for the first time and officially accused the bride of taking away his only friend, yet no one was angered because they knew him well enough. The groom docilely took him home, led him to his room on the upper floor, even tucked him into bed before going to consummate his marriage and create his one and only, loving daughter, whom they would name Nadezhda.

 Immediately after the joyful event, the trumpet summoned the two young men to their local barracks for a full two years. It made sense for them to be placed in the same division, company, and platoon, given one ZIL 157 truck each for driving, and put them together on duty whenever necessary. Then, Nadezhda was born, and Vasil not only received a three-day leave, but even managed to arrange the same for his mate, as if they had both contributed to creating the baby. They went to see him, then drank to oblivion at the village tavern, rejoicing so genuinely that it truly seemed as if they were both the father. Then back to their unit, back together for the presumed leave during the second year of service, until finally, they both shouted together, "Dischargggge!"

 They returned to the village, unwound for a whole week, and without much thinking, submitted job applications to the newly established Agricultural Production Cooperative (APC), as drivers, of course. They worked for a year or two with small trucks, then took the exams for the next category, and just in time for the harvest, they climbed onto brand-new Skoda Madaras, which also had trailers. The two of them rode the convoys of trucks and started making money, only one spent it recklessly because he had a family, while the other saved it in a savings account, never smoking, drinking, or pursuing women. Their fellow villagers came up with a nickname for him, and once again Vasil was the instigator. When they saw the four of them walking together, with the wife and daughter of one of them, they kept teasing Petar about when he would settle down and start a family too, so that the two kids could play together like they used to. And Vasil responded on his behalf with his characteristic audacity:

- Petza is still a bachelor. He's not in a rush, and he's apparently waiting for some princess on a white donkey to saddle him.

 Petar remained silent and embarrassed, the villagers laughed, and in the end, they nicknamed him "Adzhamiya" (Princess), but it was too long, so it became "Adzha." And from then on, nobody called him by his name, not even the head of the motor pool, let alone the chief engineer. Adzha wasn't bothered by this nickname; he only resisted Vasil's teasing once and said to him:

- I'm waiting for Nadezhda to grow up, so she can marry him, as I've raised her beside you, from a little grub.

 His blood brother smirked beneath his mustache but didn't take what he said seriously, especially since the child was still young and had a long way to grow. Until then, Adzha would either get married or remain a bachelor. And Nadezhda grew up, went to the city to study at the gymnasium, then at the Agricultural University, and one sunny day, she found herself as an agronomist in the same APC (for the younger ones, this abbreviation means Agricultural Industrial Complex). She was given a Russian jeep, one of those that rumbled along like a cart. She took the opportunity to tour the fertile fields of Zlatna Trakiya (Golden Thrace). And once by the will of Fate, the Russian military machine UAZ 469 rattled through the middle of a dirt road, and the agronomist found herself not in an unplowed vineyard but miles away from any settlement, around an hour before dusk. In those socialist times, there were no mobile phones, and it never occurred to anyone to equip the jeep with a radio.     Nadezhda leaned on the fender and philosophically lit a cigarette. She was a tough girl who, due to her studies and urban ways, had acquired the vice of smoking. She smoked and waited for something, maybe Godo. After all, her name was Nadezhda, and this name obliged her not to lose hope. She thought about it and chuckled at the pun, and at that very moment, a Skoda Madara appeared on the road, a road that rarely saw any cars at all. Its brakes screeched, raising a cloud of dust, and as the dust settled, the unfortunate driver of the UAZ 469 saw, much to her delight, her uncle Petar—her father's best friend, who had bounced her on his knee as a child hundreds of times.

- Uncle Petar, you're like a father, like a mother, look at my tractor, it won't move, if it weren't for you, I would have to sleep inside it tonight!

- Don't worry, little one, but I'm used to not doing anything without money.

- I'll pay you whatever you say, just do it, because there's no time, and the sun will set soon!

- Ah, you won't get rid of me with money. You'll pay me in kind - the neighbor said seriously and opened the jeep's hood.

- What do you mean, in kind, Uncle Petar? Don't do that, I'm an honest girl, and you and my father have been friends since childhood!

- Do you know that song about the jester and the queen, where the jester asked to be paid with a kiss? I'll ask you for that kind of payment. You've kissed me thousands of times as a child, and now I want it as an adult - Uncle Petar or Adzha, as we know him, growled from under the hood.

- You fix it then, just since it's for a kiss, we'll figure something out.

 The newly minted agronomist lit a second cigarette impatiently, but it was no longer clear whether it was because she was in a hurry to go home or because of the kiss. Adzha didn't tinker with the engine for long. He slammed the hood shut and spat venomously towards the ditch:

- No luck, my girl. The half-shaft is broken, and the whole thing needs to be replaced, then aligned, and that'll take at least an hour, if not more.

- Don't you have something like that in your truck that you could replace it with? I have a spare battery here, and I'll use it as a light once it gets dark.

 Adzha chuckled at her lack of knowledge, but not mockingly, and gave her a succinct explanation:

- First, my car is a diesel, second, it's nothing like the Russian cars, and third - it looks like you'll have to ride in the Madara, and tomorrow the mechanics will come to fix the jeep on-site.

- Let's go then, because our folks will worry about me!

 Gallantly, he helped the young woman climb into the high cabin, then went to the left to sit behind the steering wheel. But before he turned the starter key, he hesitated as if in thought and muttered indistinctly:

- Were we going to forget the kiss?!

- You, Uncle Petyo, not Petar – let's get that straight. And anyway, if you couldn't fix the jeep, what's the point of talking about a kiss?

- But I'll be driving you, right? Pay up!

- Alright, here – Nadezhda lightly tapped his stubbly cheek, but that seemed to give Fate the key to the door behind which the little devil Love was waiting.

- It won't do like that - Adzha embraced her – you know how long I've been waiting for this moment – and his mustache concealed her delicate lips for a serious length of time.

 The cabin of the Skoda Madara was quite spacious and offered versatile possibilities to its occupants. In the evening, Petar and Nadezhda didn't return to the village, and in the morning, feeling a bit embarrassed, they brought cognac and candy to the motor pool to treat their colleagues, as they were planning to invite them to the wedding. Only her father didn't take a candy, he silently got into his Skoda and drove off somewhere in a hurry.

 That's how sometimes the greatest friendships on this blessed Earth come to an end. No person and no event managed to get Vasil to speak more to his blood brother, even though he was the more talkative of the two.