“Please, remember what I told you, honey: do not ask him about war and his scar and everything
will be on the highest level”, with trembling voice said Alex.
“It’s just your father, not Lord Voldemort. Moreover, it doesn’t matter what he’ll say: I’m gonne
marry you in any case!” almost mockingly answered Dony.
Door of the restaurant opened and the tall old man come in.
“Bourgeois! 4$ for cup of tea! On this money I could boil tea for whole coy.”
“Don’t worry, Mr Asher, I’ll pay for all you’ll order." said Dony.
“You think I cannot afford this doggone tea?! Or you want to seem like an Alpha male on this
table young man?”
“Eem, I was just polite and no hidden sense, Mr Asher…”
“Real man has no need to make excuse”, growled the old man, “I remember my last day on the
war. We won but not in good faith. Maj. told us that all survivors will go under a military
tribunal because our methods were inhuman and led to civilian deaths. But who, as a general
rule, are talking about humanity on the war? It’s ridiculous!”
“Dad, please. Let’s talk about something more pleasant and ..”
“What?”– hissed Mr Asher, - “How dare you to stop me when I talk? But anyway I have to
finish. So this old horseradish told that we will go under a military tribunal. When they asked me
about value of human life I didn’t justified myself, but I shown them scars that war left me like a
souvenir. And what do you think they told me next? Good job, soldier! Ha!”
Awkward silence become in the air till the waiter brings the drinks. Mr Asher continued to tell
his stories even after Anne and Dony announced their willing to get married. This man is not
suite to peaceful time. He is soldier of Fortune.
A. Oberenko
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