Oleg Ivanovich Kuchkin's right hand went numb from the tips of his fingers to the elbow as he was almost finished with his fried eggs and morning coffee, and a couple of seconds later, a bitter, pulsating ache spread deep within his chest.
"It's probably normal to have a heart attack at the age of sixty," Kuchkin thought vaguely, "but maybe not." Who knows? If Karina Sergeyevna had been there, she would have told him what and why. Unfortunately for Oleg Ivanovich, his wife had passed away two years ago. Kuchkin visited her grave twice. The first time was on the day of her burial. The second time was a year later, when his two daughters persuaded him to go on a visitation day. After tidying up the artificial mound and clearing it of grass, Oleg Ivanovich hurried back home. In fact, Oleg Ivanovich was even afraid of the idea of visiting the cemetery even once more.
"My God, isn't it obvious? I want to remember Karina Sergeevna alive," Kuchkin replied impatiently to his youngest daughter when she tried to persuade her father to visit the cemetery once again. "It seems quite simple to leave me and the good memory of your beautiful mother alone." As was his habit, both during his lifetime and after his death, Oleg Ivanovich referred to the deceased in the past tense only by her first name and patronymic, occasionally deviating from this practice.
In his early youth, Kuchkin Olezhik dreamed of becoming a carpenter. When his mother asked him about the reasons behind this aspiration, Oleg responded reluctantly. His mother worked as an elementary school teacher near their home and encouraged her son to follow in her footsteps. However, Kuchkin did not support her hope.
"It's just a necessary profession, that's all," Kuchkin told his father, who repeated his wife's question. Kuchkin's father worked as an engineer in a design bureau responsible for flight development, which also did not appeal to Oleg. Kuchkin's parents hoped that by the time he graduated from high school, he would change his mind and choose a profession that did not require hard work.
However, the years that passed quickly made it clear that Oleg's opinion had only strengthened over time. After completing his final year of high school, Kuchkin was not accepted into the army due to his poor lung and heart condition.
After completing his vocational training, Kuchkin, as he had dreamed, went to work at a furniture factory as a carpenter. In his early days, the thick June heat made young Oleg dizzy. His colleagues, often intoxicated, unleashed their foul language, swearing and even engaging in fights for no apparent reason. Much of what Kuchkin did was different from what he had imagined a carpenter to do. And yet, on the whole, he was pleased with the state of affairs. To some extent, Kuchkin felt like a sculptor when he was making good chairs and stools.
