Conductor

– "Stop playing along, who the hell are you?»

Passed by student at a local College, who greedily ate more fresh hot pie. Dima, of course, drew attention to what a dreary, thirsty and helpless look the man held this student as he swallowed dry saliva, tilting his head to the ground.

– "All clear… come on, these cakes are sold in the neighborhood, my treat".

***

"You wanted to know who I am" – have quietly turned to Dima man, amausi four pie with cabbage, three potatoes and two sweet with raspberries.

– "It would be interesting to know, look at you – you know".

"Yes I know, I know" – still in a low voice the man answered.

– "Why are you whispering, because there is no one nearby, we are alone, Yes, the seller of pies over there behind the glass, a fear?»

– "Nine … five.... nine… five… nine… two" – he uttered with a stop insinuating strange man then said – "All".

– "Ohh…, this is interesting, but what is it?"– without paying any attention to the incoherent order of numbers, Dima asked.

"I… I don't know how to explain it, and I don't know what to do now. I'm very grateful to you for feeding me, but I can't offer you anything in return. Those banknotes which you gave to the seller of pies, differ from mine".

– "Come on, don't worry, I told you it was a treat. What kind of foreign currency do you have there?»

"Yes, sort of not quite…" the man laid out on the table a few pyatidesyatyletia bills.

"Oh, I got a grandma in the closet like pieces of paper were lying, I played as a child, maybe even still preserved. But those utterly jammed, and these are your new quite…" – Dima as if began slowly to understand who is sitting in front of him, but I couldn't believe it.

The man, silently, finished his tea, touched by the invention of a plastic Cup, and looked around with interest.

– "Can't be… Oh, come on, I get it, it's such a joke right? Where's the speaker with the MIC, you're kidding me, huh? What type are you then hop from the past, and I'm a no cut" – relief explained himself Dima.

But the man was silent, his face was more than serious, he only calmly, but with interest looked then at him, then at the surrounding buildings, then from time to time flashing passers-by, while giving not a single drop of sarcasm.

– "Yes, perhaps, for You I from the past. And for me all this is from the future" – still quietly said the man, stronger pressed to his suitcase.

Dima was silent. He began to look closely at the banknotes, then the clothes then in the face of his interlocutor.

– "By the way, my name is Anatoly Stepanovich, the name will be superfluous»

– Dima – stretched helplessly kid.

– "Tell Dmitry, You have a good memory?– – a little silent man continued – " when you are in childhood, say, up to five years playing on the grounds, under the supervision of parents, when ru

In memory Dima was such an episode, however, not from personal experience. His neighborhood friend Kolka, once got into an argument in the sandbox, that knows more than some adults. The guys were about five or six years old.

– "What are you saying, Kolya, how can you know more than adults, they are already so many years old, and you are just a little bit" – said another participant of sand buildings.

"Yes it is true, that the uncle has just asked me what the name of the country in which I live! Only now, as I walked up to you»

– "Well, so what, he just checked, you know or not" – did not let up Timur, who could not build a two-storey Palace.

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