The human leg is an extremely complex structure that literally and figuratively forms the basis of the entire body. At birth, a child's leg is a reproduction of an adult leg, with the difference that most of it consists of cartilage (ossification occurs over time). Often in the first months of life, the legs are skipped and not noticed by parents (which is a mistake, because it is during this period that the legs prepare to walk). Dilemmas and problems arise when a child takes his first steps. We then ask ourselves whether the child is positioning his feet correctly and, above all, what kind of shoes would be appropriate.
Just a few years ago, it was argued that a rigid boot would be the best choice to ensure proper positioning and protect against the development of foot defects. However, more and more often you can find positive reviews from doctors and physiotherapists about how to walk barefoot. What benefit does walking barefoot bring? More on this later.
Leg development in babies
The development of a baby's legs, although it may be surprising, occurs from the first days of life. It is important to give children freedom of movement so that they have the opportunity to learn about their body and its ability to move. Gradually, as they grow, children rock on their heels, press their legs together, grab their arms, or push them back and step back. All these actions have one common goal: to prepare your feet for the first steps. And it is during these first months of life that movement patterns are formed that will influence subsequent gait. Therefore, during this period it is worth following a few simple rules:
- allow the child freedom of movement - actions that the baby takes upon himself to prepare the body to start moving
- Avoid shoes until you are learning to walk at home - putting shoes on children limits foot movement and also prevents them from experiencing a variety of stimuli
INDIAN SUMMER. Chapter 2. BAREFOOT IS COOL!
September 6, Wednesday, around six in the evening.
School, principal's office. Kovalev and Svetlana Ignatieva. Around the same time that the trio was gathering on the banks of the river for their dirty deeds, Kovalev returned to the silent school. It was empty, only the crystal sounds of a piano were quietly rolling in the corridors - Svetlana Ignatieva was either studying with someone else, or was simply playing music for her own pleasure... Kovalev went to the second floor, quietly looked into the office: exactly, the teacher was sitting at the piano with Sonya Barbash , a neat, round-faced girl, and played four hands. To be noticed, Kovalev, who had been patient for a long time, coughed and then said through the slightly open door: “Svetlana, come to me when you’re finished!” and retreated.
The reception area was empty: secretary Natasha Kushnir worked part-time and left most often after lunch. In his office he opened the window; standing in front of him, I inhaled the smell of foliage and freshness. Then he returned to the table, took cigarettes and a lighter from the table, and lit a cigarette. Blowing out bluish smoke, he placed in front of him a folder with a thick, hard cover of blue embossed cardboard and an inscription in English - and he remained sitting there, blankly looking at the folder that had been received for signature a few hours earlier at the administration. I sat until the heavy office door opened with a mouse squeak and Svetlana Ignatieva came in.
A woman with curly golden hair and very delicate, carefully sculpted features, with deep brown eyes, she timidly stopped at the edge of the director's long table. Kovalev choked on his cigarette and hastily put it out - Ignatieva did not like smoke! – and stood up to meet him.
- You sit down, Svetlana Ignatievna, sit down... Let's talk.
The woman sat down on the edge of a soft chair and straightened her lilac dress over her thin knees. Kovalev mechanically noted her shoes: wicker moccasins without heels. It’s strange, he wouldn’t have looked at them before.
He got up and went to the window along with the ashtray and smoke. I looked out the window, trying in vain to find an excuse with which to start a difficult conversation.
“You see, Svetlana Ignatievna, a topic arose here... Well, in general, so... - he got confused in his own words and blurted out - you... like to walk barefoot?!
She was slightly surprised. She raised her eyebrows. The director nervously lit a cigarette, placing the ashtray on the windowsill. The woman winced, but answered simply:
- I love... On the grass. We have lawns like this in our town... untouched. Well, at the reservoir, along the surf.
- To the reservoir. “On the surf,” Kovalev muttered, then caught himself, put out his cigarette, “Okay, that’s not all... In a word, here it is.” Imagine that we are given new premises!
Now the woman laughed. She placed her sharp elbow on the light tabletop, propped her head up with it, and looked at the director purely, transparently, and skeptically.
- Oh! Quite shocking news.
- Wait. I'll explain everything! That’s not the point... So, they give us a new building. The finishing is great. Natural ecological materials. The floors are wooden and heated, yes... heated, like in Finland.
- Lord, who promised you this? Look, in the 25th Lyceum there is carpet, and even in winter it is covered with frost here and there!
- It doesn’t matter there! There is frost there and all that - Kovalev waved his hands - This is not it... You listen. Well, this is what babble is. At school it’s like at home. Twenty five degrees. And the organizers tell us: you will walk around in such a new uniform... in such... how can I describe it? A! Look how tennis players perform on the court. Skirts and T-shirts. And the children too... something like that. Or in jeans.
Svetlana shook her head. She smiled sadly:
- Well, someone was definitely telling you some fables... Okay. What about men?
- Men?!
“Well, at our school, at least,” she began to bend her fingers with neat, even nails—you, that’s it. Young physicist, Andreev, two. This security guard is, excuse me, idiotic...
“The guard doesn’t count, I transferred him to watchman.”
- And the caretaker?
- He doesn’t count either, he’s just coming. Stella Matveevna is taking everything upon herself now... - Kovalev retorted - men... uh...
To his shame, from a fragmentary reading of the booklet with a blue cover, he still did not understand what uniform was offered to the men. But I fantasized:
- Well, these are linen trousers, like the Indians.
- And a turban...
- Why a turban?! Oh, you're kidding. Well, here, trousers and a T-shirt with the school logo. And... - he barely squeezed out this simple word - and barefoot. All. This, you know, is the form of interchangeable shoes.
The woman smiled softly. She removed her elbow from her cheek and shook out her hair.
- Well, you described the picture... Vladimir Vladimirovich, I need to run home, my husband is sitting unfed. If you don’t cook for him, he won’t eat.
Kovalev hastily jumped up to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down almost resting his hands on her knees. And again he glanced sideways at the wicker shoes. Beneath them one could discern small, regular-shaped feet, untanned, with nails painted with light mother-of-pearl. The woman followed his gaze with some surprise, but said nothing.
Meanwhile, the director looked at her intently, taking off his gold-rimmed glasses for the first time all day.
- Svetlana Ignatievna... well, the main thing is that you will work in THIS school? Just nothing for now and nothing, I ask you.
- Yes…
- What "yes"?
- I will, probably.
At that moment something slammed behind the door; Kovalev cast a worried glance there. Svetlana suggested:
- Your window is not closed there. There's probably a draft... well, shall I go?
Kovalev began to fuss. He grabbed Svetlana’s hand, small and warm, and muttered:
- Yes, of course... So you will? This is what I wanted to hear from you. But definitely - no one, huh?
The music teacher nodded obediently and looked mockingly at Kovalev with her light brown eyes. Apparently she never believed him.
Left alone, Kovalev smoked for a long time, absently looking out the window. Oh well. On the grass... Yes, he will have to talk to many people about this!
...Meanwhile, Svetlana Ignatievna, throwing a light raincoat over her lilac dress, went home. And along the road that first went down the street from the school to the end, she suddenly caught herself thinking that she was not thinking about the concert that was coming up in two weeks, and not about how to get rid of Mulpämäe and the Raevskys under a plausible pretext in class - after all, you can’t kick them out, it’s not pedagogical! She thinks about what the director told her. Of course, it all didn’t fit in my head. New building, heated floors... should I buy this “uniform” with my own money? Will their salary remain the same?! Will you have to take off your shoes where, in the wardrobe or in your office? Busy with these anxious thoughts, dangling as if on strings, she did not look around; and was just passing by courtyards in the old part of the town.
And suddenly I noticed - but I wouldn’t have paid attention before! - like two little girls, about ten years old, excitedly swinging on a carousel. The old carousel with a wooden bottom creaked desperately, rumbled and scraped along the sand with its edges; but that was not the main thing. The girls, one plump and fair-haired, and the second thin-skinned, seemingly transparent and thin, turned out to be barefoot. Their pink heels, although stained with the dust of the yard, sparkled in the setting sun like new nickels... Svetlana Ignatievna involuntarily slowed down her pace and stared at the girls who did not notice her. Where are their sandals? Did their parents really let them out into the yard... What if they cut themselves on something or just catch a cold? Having still not found an answer to this question, the music teacher moved on, looking thoughtfully at the chipped asphalt covered with leaves, and at the strip of lawn with yellowing grass. A strange desire was born within her; She looked around uncertainly and froze - not finding any passers-by. But then she just shook her head and took off her cloak, throwing it under her arm - it’s hot!
She got home only half an hour later, shaking in a stuffy bus filled with summer residents. They turned out to be packed like a polar expedition - heavy boots, sometimes tarpaulin, sweaters, quilted jackets; they rattled with shovels and rakes, talked noisily, they smelled of earth, smoke and sometimes vodka. Beads of sweat glistened on their stern, summer-tanned faces and necks.
The husband was at home. The woman was still closing the door to the hallway when he, shaggy, leaned out of his room and quickly announced:
- I didn’t eat anything, I’ve been cleaning the registry since this morning... I caught a virus!
...and again disappeared into his hole. Svetlana sighed, looked at her red slippers with a pompom, and suddenly pushed them aside with her foot. The linoleum seemed unusually cold to her and not very clean.
Fifteen minutes later she came to her husband with a tray - hot sandwiches, tea, waffles. Cigarette smoke floated in the room, enveloping the frames of disassembled computers and boxes of new ones; Cigarette butts were multiplying in the ashtray, two large, lean wasps were beating against the glass. The woman had to open the window to ventilate the room, drive out the wasps with newspaper, empty the ashtray into a bag... When she finished, the husband was already drinking tea, with one hand taking from the tray either a sausage sandwich or a waffle and chewing it all without much feeling - he was completely lost in columns of incomprehensible numbers and symbols on the screen, occasionally pounding on the keyboard with a curse. Sveta pulled the stool to the table and sat down; she lowered her head onto her elbow and looked sadly at her husband.
“Alyosha,” she said melodiously, not really hoping for anything, “And they’ll probably give us a new building.”
- Yes.
There will be European-quality renovation, heated floors.
- Yes.
- And a new uniform for everyone. Sports.
- Mmm... uh-huh.
- And we will all walk barefoot...
Not immediately, but he still looked up from the computer - her former idol and genius, who had grown considerably fat from sedentary work and had become ugly. She noticed three days of stubble emerging.
- Lesh, you should at least shave...
— I’ll go to the office and shave. Wait, I don’t understand... Why barefoot?
She shrugged. Carefully I pushed the last sandwich on the plate towards him.
“Well, for health, probably,” she said timidly, “or for beauty.”
The husband snorted. He crawled his fingers into his dirty hair. Well, yes, after all, he was sitting at the computer yesterday. And the day before yesterday.
- Wait... Ugh. What beauty is there in dirty heels? You collect so much there in a day...
— Lesha, there will probably be technical equipment and all sorts of new vacuum cleaners.
- Oh come on! Who will give them to you?! With your poverty...
Sveta felt an offensive, bitter pang. Well, yes, he, sitting at home, earns three times more than she does, with all her hours and part-time jobs. She remained silent. But Alexey is already wound up. He looked at the screen out of habit and puffed out his cheeks. His mustache, unkempt, moved.
- I don’t understand anything... Who came up with this?
- Lesha, let’s not... director.
- Your director is foolish. I’d better figure out how to earn money so that you don’t sit on my neck. Me too, barefoot... damn those!
The woman shuddered as if an invisible hand had slapped her cheek. And she got up and began hastily collecting empty dishes and a glass on a tray... Only then did her husband wake up and look into her eyes:
- Zaya, did I offend you?
- No, Lesha, everything is fine.
She swallowed back tears and tried to stop the trembling in her hands. Her husband was satisfied with her timid lie. He lowered his eyes and suddenly shouted:
- ABOUT! Why are you without slippers?!
“They broke...” Svetlana barely said.
- So sew it up! - Alexey barked at her back - That’s another idea - to wander around the house without slippers!
The door of their bedroom, where her husband usually came only after two in the morning, quietly closed behind Sveta.
September 6, Wednesday, around six in the evening. Residential area "Southern", apartment of Sofia Barbash. Sofya Barbash and Irina Erantseva.
In fact, there was and could not be any draft in the school reception room - the weather was not right. A minute before Svetlana Ignatieva opened the door from the director’s office, small, round-faced Sonya Barbash flew out of the reception room like a bullet and, dully stamping her feet in red sneakers on the stone steps, left the school. Sonya was in a hurry to go home - and not for some reason, but to tell her friends the “sensation” that she had managed to catch.
The girl flew into the house just as quickly; Jumping in the hallway on one leg, she tore off her sneakers, leaving her in white socks. Knocking her heels, she ran into her room - past the living room, from where came the muffled clang of a sewing machine and a menacing:
- Eat for your homework too!
- Right now, ma...
Sonya clung to the telephone like a wanderer in the desert to a source; She climbed onto the bed, crossed her legs, and pressed the phone to her ear. The first correspondent turned out to be Sasha Kashkina, a languid blonde with a slightly sleepy look. The sound of water and musical chords could be heard in the tube.
- Hello, Sash. This is Sonya! What are you doing?
“I’m lying down,” Kashkina answered relaxedly.
- Where?!
- Where... I’m lying in the bath. I'm relaxing. What happened?
- What are you doing! I just heard it here by accident... At the director’s, where he was talking to the musician.
And Sonya with pleasure dumped out to Kashkina all the stunning information that she had managed to learn; however, already slightly tangled in her restless little head with her hair combed smoothly back.
Of everything she heard, Alexandra only understood well about skirts.
- Skirts like tennis players? - she asked thoughtfully, splashing around - And it’s nice, it seems... I’ve been wanting to come to one like this for a long time. Zhuchara won’t allow it.
- What kind of Zhuchara? – Sonya gasped, however, knowing full well that her friend was talking about the head teacher, Stella Shurtis. It will be cold!
But Kashkina was not impressed by this information. She yawned and reasonably objected:
- What do we care? It will be next year anyway...
- Why?
- Just think about it - why are they going to start repairs at the beginning of the year? Right now... No, the tenth one will have to do it. And we will already receive a certificate.
This turn of events immediately killed the intrigue in the bud. I simply didn’t want to believe that such global upheavals, promising a lot of dramatic moments, would pass Sonya by. She crumpled up the conversation and started calling another friend, Roska Alpen from parallel class “B”.
But with Rosa it turned out to be even worse. She listened with half an ear, giggled, and asked an idiotic question: “Will Kovalev also be in a skirt?” Like this Scot, huh?”, and then turned the conversation to how she could pick up Vadim Lippert, whom all the school beauties were pining for. Apart from Lippert, Rosa was not interested in anything at the moment, since at that very time, according to rumors, he was partying with her classmate Liza Krutilova in some club.
At that moment, the door opened without knocking and a thunderous voice was heard:
- What did I tell you?! Go eat and do your homework!
- Right now, ma!!! I'm going to the toilet!
With the phone in her hand, the girl rushed to the bathroom. There, sitting on the toilet lid, she dialed the number of Galka Mukhametova, a mysterious, hairy-eyed Tatar woman. But Mukhametova did not make Sonya happy either: after listening to everything, Galina said:
- All this is bullshit. Nothing will work out.
- Why?
— Because it’s like with a school uniform... They tried it last year. Will you go to Schillersha or Versta barefoot and in short skirts? Yes, they will eat Kovalev alive.
- And you? — Sonya asked hopefully. “Would you agree?!”
Mukhametova was silent. Then, probably standing in front of the mirror, she suddenly blurted out:
- Why... I have beautiful legs, not like some people.
Sonya was almost offended, having understood the hint: in childhood she was teased as bow-legged, and even now she has not lost her teenage clumsiness. “Yeah, you’ll be tired of shaving them!” - Sonya thought to herself, remembering the black fluff that covered even Mukhametova’s dark elbows and said goodbye.
Very soon there was banging on the toilet door. Having finished another conversation, Sonya opened it with a sigh; the mother stood in the doorway, her hands menacingly on her hips. She had once been the champion of the Union in the barbell - and now with her entire cast square figure she expressed formidable determination. In addition, Sonya drew attention - as usual, to her mother's sports shorts with a bright stripe, a T-shirt - how she walked at home, and her bronze muscular legs firmly rested her bare feet on their light linoleum.
-Are you running around the house in socks again?! No, look, I wash these socks for her every day! - Mom got angry - Well, quickly put on your slippers and go eat! And for the lessons!
Sonya barely had time to jump out of the toilet, squeaking: “Ma! I’ll help Zhenya walk the dog right now!” This was the last hope - Sonya’s classmate, Evgenia Erantseva, lived in her own building, only on the first floor, and enjoyed her mother’s favor: they often consulted on sewing and cutting. Sonya pulled off her socks to avoid another punishment if she forgot again! — then she slipped into red sneakers, calling Zhenya as she walked, and three minutes later she was already going down the elevator.
But Zhenya, of course, was already ahead of her. She stood at the entrance of a nine-story building, in a black sports suit and blue flip-flops, holding Ram, a gigantic Airedale terrier, on a leash. Sonya only had time to say “Hello!” when the dog made an attempt to sit on the lawn near the entrance.
- REM!!! – Zhenya shouted in a terrible voice – FU!!!
The ashamed dog rushed away like a rocket, leaving Zhenya no way out; Behind the nine-story building there were garages and lush thickets of bushes with a small spontaneous dump. It was there that the dog headed, literally dragging the girl behind him.
Erantseva, tall and thin, ended up in school after an outbreak of unhappy love in the eleventh grade of an ordinary institution, a suicide attempt and a long period of treatment; Therefore, she was already eighteen, and she looked like she was twenty - tall, thin, black-haired and dark-faced, with wild eyes and a strong body that had begun to gain feminine strength. Once upon a time, she was also good at sports - now she rushed after Ram, flashing her trained calves.
And then something happened that actually destroyed all of Sonya’s intentions to amaze at least one person with her news. First, one slipper tore with a loud crack, falling apart right on Zhenya’s foot, and then the second one turned upside down; Cursing, the girl tore it off her foot and rushed after the dog, already barefoot. Sonya, running behind her, saw with horror how Zhenya was scratching first along the asphalt, then past the playground with cackling mothers, and then - horror! - right through the dump behind the garages, through crumpled plastic bottles, rotten cardboard boxes and some other rubbish. The running girls and Ram scared some drunk man who was relieving himself right there, near the garages, and ended up in the damp, cool darkness of the bush. Then Ram finally stopped and sat down in front of a bush...
“Ugh...” Zhenya took a breath. “Well-mannered, damn it!” I understood everything right away...
She unfastened the leash and sat down on the frame of the rusty refrigerator. The path went even further into the forest, smelling of dampness and mushrooms. The sun, falling behind the huge nine-story buildings, pitifully splashed scattered light onto the remaining half of the sky.
“Zhenya, you’ve gotten yourself dirty in something,” Sonya said timidly.
The girl looked at her feet and waved her hand.
- Bullshit... So what did you want to tell me?
Sonya cautiously sat down on the edge of the same refrigerator and began to talk confusingly. Ram, having satisfied his instincts, climbed into the bushes, noisily moving them with his large body. The friend listened with interest. Then she sighed and, turning her leg, began to examine the bare sole - dark with earth and dust, with long, tenacious toes. Muttering, “A splinter, or what?”, she began to press the skin on the sole with her short nails, gathering it into folds. Sonya looked at these manipulations with fear: for the first time, the skin of Irka’s foot became visible so close, with all its small spots, microcosmic scratches; She was now crushing it, picking at the scales, squeezing it with her strong fingers - it was like a surgical operation!
“In skirts, I don’t know...” my friend said intently, squeezing out some small piece of glass. “I can’t stand them.” But being barefoot is cool.
- What's so cool? - Sonya was confused - There is only dirt. Look, everyone will have heels like yours.
- If they wash it well, no. In general, I'm used to it. Do you know how they drove us at the training camp? Cross barefoot, about five kilometers. And it doesn’t matter – there are stones and cones. The coach prepared us for the republican championship. It was like this one of ours... Debenhof.
- Like a Policewoman, or what?
- Well. “Policeman”... they came up with nonsense. She is a normal woman, in general.
Having picked out the invisible fragment and shook it aside, Zhenya finished with this matter; called: “Ram! Ram, go home! Snorting and snorting came from the bushes - the dog, covered with burrs, got out of the thicket. Zhenya stood up.
- Well, it will be interesting... Hmm, I’m introducing our starlets - how is it for them?
- To whom?
- Yes to Liza Krutilova, Anka Nalkich. They've been in these heels all year - they'll have to learn to walk again!
While talking, my friend fearlessly walked through the trash heap - again. Strong bare feet, dirty in the ground, did not choose the place. Sonya followed obediently. As they walked past the empty playground, one mother, who had hesitated, looked disapprovingly and began to wrap her baby in a warm jacket.
...Sonya hesitated at the entrance. Having asked Zhenya “not to tell anyone anything” - solely for the sake of the ritual, she wrinkled her nose:
- Oh, I forgot, my mother asked me to buy mineral water... Well, you go, and I’ll go to the kiosk.
- Bye.
However, left alone, the girl did not go to any kiosk. She returned back, or rather, walked along the formwork of the house - behind it, where the ribbed fence of the kindergarten stretched, and a black strip of land plowed in the spring for a lawn, but never sown. Holding on to the wall, under someone's windows, Sonya cautiously pulled the sneakers off her feet... Then, closing her eyes, she stepped with her bare feet on the rough concrete. And, shuddering again, she stepped to the ground...
Nothing happened. More precisely, nothing pleasant. It’s cold, sticky on the ground, prickly on the concrete... After standing, she somehow shook off the dusty crumbs from her delicate, pink heels and short white toes, got into her sneakers and went home.
Her mother was already waiting for her in the hallway with an unfinished blouse. She sternly extended her hand: “Phone!”; Having taken away her mobile phone, she also commanded: “Come to the kitchen!” Everything has cooled down... And no more chatter today!”
Sonya had to submit.
September 6, Wednesday, late evening. Location: microdistrict "Shlyuzy", supermarket. Valeria Yasnoukova and the Giaullin brothers.
The group sat on a metal fence near the supermarket - like chickens on a roost. She sat without any particular purpose: the Giaullin brothers were husking the seeds, spitting them on the dirty asphalt and laughing at the stupid pigeons who mistook the husks for full-fledged grain - they ran after each one, funnyly jumping on each other. “Just think, they have Rams!” - said the younger, bespectacled Ivan, called by everyone “Vano”, and the eldest, Ilya, neighed richly. Neither one nor the other shone with special intellectual talents - which gave them constant optimism and an almost childish, pure perception of life, not entirely characteristic of the eleventh grade, but explaining why they graduated from this eleventh grade not just anywhere, but in Kovalev’s “Ex Libris” "
Valeria also sat nearby, feeling the bitterness of a just smoked cigarette in her mouth and absentmindedly looking at the frayed toes of her own sneakers. Dark brown hair covered half of his face, long and pale, like a piece of goat cheese; mask faces with deliberately lined eyes: I was once fond of emo culture, the habit of such coloring remains to this day. Plus piercings in the nose and in the left ear - two earrings. Valeria did not consider herself a beauty; Moreover, if someone dared to say such a thing to her, they might get hit in the nose by her strong, boyish fist. That's why I dressed like a tomboy - jeans, shirts, jackets and hung out with the idiots Gyaullins.
- Hey, Lerka, do you have any money? – Vano asked, spitting out the husk.
Valeria shook her head. The guy watched the couple leaving the supermarket with huge bags and sighed:
- I'm thirsty. “Cola” right now... And this one, chips.
...They had already spent the supply of ordinary adventures prepared for them for the evening. At first we sat on the playground in the yard and played cards. Then they went to the market: there Vano stole an apple from a tray, and Ilya stole a large persimmon; The three of them gnawed the apple, but the persimmon had to be thrown away - it was unripe, and it was disgusting in the mouth. Then they headed to the old houses being demolished on the next street and spent a long time, having fun, breaking the surviving windows with stones - until they were scared off by an evil guy with a dog. Now they were stuck with a department store, which could not do anything to please them due to their insolvency.
Two gray, lanky police officers passed by, swinging batons at their belts, glanced sideways at the teenagers, but did not waste time on them. The joyful little one carried a large bottle of Coca-Cola out of the store, pressing it to his stomach with both hands - Ilya chuckled:
- Lerka, have you ever stolen?
The girl shrugged her shoulders and reluctantly said:
- Well... Once. The phone was stolen.
In fact, she “stole” not one phone, but three, finding a special pleasure in sophisticated thefts, a rush of adrenaline - but she didn’t want to tell her brothers about it. She was caught on the fourth theft, which ensured her transfer from an elite gymnasium to this private school.
“Yeah, that’s nice...” Ilya drawled, clearly thinking hard about something.
His brother “rescued” him by quietly suggesting:
- Hey, people, let’s fight something in the store, huh? Well, at least “cola”... I’m thirsty.
- Yeah, damn it, you'll sleep there. There are security and cameras.
- And this... Lerka, let’s distract the guards, huh?
The girl snorted. She looked at her brothers with irony:
- How can I distract you? Why, go in there naked, or what?
The Giaullins neighed in unison. Then Ilya suddenly stopped laughing and said seriously:
- No, just think, I read on the Internet, people are making fun of it... He walks into a department store with a saucepan on his head, and while they are staring at him, his friends are stealing the goods.
- And what? Come on, look for a saucepan...” Valeria reluctantly responded.
It was already evening. The street lights were lit, and the store itself shone like a diamond palace. The shadows of the figures of passers-by crept from pillar to post, appearing and disappearing on the gray ground. Nearby, cars started from the intersection, blinking red lights; The ice cream lady was clanking as she closed the plastic blinds on the kiosk. Some slender girl in a fur-trimmed jacket stepped on the asphalt with her long legs, shod in golden sandals, and loudly complained into her mobile phone: “Well, when are you coming? I’m already frozen!” An idea suddenly matured in Valeria’s head. She decisively jumped off the metal “perch.”
The Giaullins watched her with curiosity. Then the elder said:
- Wow, that’s cool... Like from the beach, right?
The girl took off her shoes. I took off my sneakers and socks and threw it into my backpack. The nails on her feet, like those on her hands, were carelessly painted with a defiant black varnish - and in the light of the nearby lantern they shone a corpse-violet. Valeria rolled up the legs of her black skinny jeans higher, to the middle of her pale, firm calf, and advised her brothers:
- Don’t miss it there... Do everything quickly and get lost. We'll meet over there, behind the market.
And, throwing her backpack, in which school books were still dangling, behind her back, the girl began to climb the cold store steps. It turned out to be a little warmer inside - but the floor was smooth and slippery. Awkwardly putting the backpack into the storage drawer, Lera took a heavy cart - it was convenient to cling to it and calmly rolled it into the sales area.
...The audience, of course, did not run away in different directions screaming; but Valeria received her dose of adrenaline almost immediately. She walked deliberately slowly, relaxed, her bare feet splashing on the cold slabs - and felt how the feeling of the forbiddenness of her actions made her feel the same pleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach as when she first left her school, past the guards, with someone else’s cell phone in her pocket. . At first, the guy choosing the juice reacted to her - he almost dropped the bag, looked at her with a mocking glance, and quietly said: “Kuk-ku!”, indicating his attitude to the situation. Then the girl went into the fruit department and put a bunch of bananas in the basket; a plump woman, who was choosing apples, glanced at her legs, wrinkled her face indignantly and recoiled, leaving what she was doing and hurried away from the department; Lera grinned and pointed fuck in her back. Then the girl deliberately climbed with her feet onto the area of the still wet floor that had just been wiped with a rag and walked, leaving grayish prints of her long narrow feet. Valeria deliberately walked absentmindedly in front of the meat department - so that the young saleswomen would notice her... They noticed, began to furtively point with their fingers, and one began calling someone. Meanwhile, the girl was putting everything she could lay her eyes on into the basket: a box of chocolates, a can of coffee, and a bucket of canned pineapples, as if she was preparing for a feast. When she stopped at the alcohol department, a security guard appeared - a young, lanky guy in black. He stopped, spread his long legs in ankle boots, and grinned:
- Girl, are you eighteen?
“I can show you your passport at the checkout,” Valeria snapped rudely. “Where are your cocktails?”
He grinned again.
- Well, here are the cocktails... Why are you looking like that?
- In which? – Valeria decided to play until the end.
She saw that two more figures had grown up behind the young guard’s back – his partner and a strict senior woman in the hall with an angry face. Great: she's diverted the attention of at least half the staff. Valeria defiantly raised her leg and scratched her bare heel, shaking off the stuck bits of sunflower seeds.
- Well... - the guard hesitated - so barefoot... isn’t it cold?
- Nope. I'm from the beach. “I was swimming,” she blurted out.
His face fell. Valeria thoughtfully turned the jar of Jaguar in her hands, then put it back on the shelf.
“I don’t want to...” and rolled the cart to the cash register.
This young one followed on her heels - and behind them there were two more, talking to each other. The guard couldn't stand it:
- What, girl, are you one of the informals, right?
- Yes. And what?
- Nothing... just put on makeup and walk barefoot. I thought, from a sect.
- Why don’t you like it?
At that moment, the eldest woman in the hall had already approached them; They hurriedly opened one cash register for Valeria - the cashier, chewing something as she walked, sat down at the machine. Those languishing in line at another checkout looked at this with indignation... At that moment, Valeria probably felt the strongest feeling: standing barefoot in the middle of this shining, refined, glamorous store and everyone was looking at her! There are buyers nearby, security guards, a cashier…. The eldest stepped forward:
- Keep in mind, don’t come to us like that again. Security won't let you in. We have a decent store.
That’s good: Valeria winced, and then capriciously pushed the cart away from her, kicking it to be sure. She turned on her creaking heels, grabbed a lollipop from the shelf in front of the cash register and declared:
- Well, your store is stupid then... Fuck it. How much for a chupik?
- Five rubles! - the eldest said with undisguised indignation - Nina, punch her...
Meanwhile, the guard’s radio began to grumble, and he, frowning, quickly went somewhere with his partner. Valeria, taking the change from the ten, grinned to herself: it looks like the Giaullins have already done everything.
With a proud and independent look, putting a lollipop into her mouth, she sent the elder a mocking grimace and walked away.
... A quarter of an hour later, Valeria found the Gyaullin brothers on the territory of a micromarket nearby: it was already empty, alarm lights were shining above the pavilions, the wind was rolling papers and wrappers under the dead counters, piles of fruit boxes were turning yellow in the darkness. The Giaullins sat on one of the counters, gurgling cola and crunching chips.
- Oh, she’s here! - they greeted the girl.
She easily jumped onto the counter and fiddled around.
- What do you have there?
- Yes, I got into some kind of rotten place, damn it... - Valeria touched the wet heel with her finger, sniffed - Ew, damn it... Tomatoes.
- Oh, nothing...
And they laughed joyfully. Then Ilya handed her something:
- Think about it, we stole two liters of cola and here’s another cocktail for you. And this one, chipsons...
- Well done.
—Are you going to drink a cocktail?
- No. Give me some cola.
- Well, as you wish... here’s another banana.
Bragging about their luck, they began vying with each other:
- Just imagine, everyone there was staring at you...
- Yeah, these guards say, like, this is from a cult, crazy!
- Well, they all ran there, Ilyukha and I will go into our pockets...
- No, remember, this shopkeeper says: maybe we should call the police or this ambulance?
- Well. She had a great time.
Valeria swung her legs, clicking her heels on the rattling counter, absentmindedly eating a banana. Then she said gloomily:
- It was so weak to come in yourself, right?
Ivan choked on his cola, and Ilya spilled the chips. Such a thought clearly did not occur to them.
- Damn... Who would poke?
- Well, I.
- Oh come on…
Then Ivan admitted in confusion:
“We couldn’t have done it like that... You did a great job.”
Valeria, sitting on the counter, grinned. I finished the banana, threw the peel into the darkness and looked at the starry sky. Clear, September, it pricked the eyes with bright specks of stars. She shivered, pulled the zipper of her jacket, and jumped off the counter.
- OK. I am going home. Till tomorrow.
- Till tomorrow.
She hoped to get home without attracting the attention of her parents. She unlocked the door with a magnetic key fob and crept up the smooth and cold steps of the entrance. And in the apartment she slipped straight into the bathroom, while her mother, who had been in business for five years, was irritably deciding something on the phone in the kitchen. But... it didn't work. As soon as the girl opened the stream of water, the door opened and the mother, still holding the portable tube to her ear, appeared on the threshold.
-Where have you been? My God, what's wrong with your legs?! Have you lost your shoes?!
- Not. “I just didn’t put it on,” the girl said, looking blankly at the column of water breaking on the edge of the bathtub.
The thin, nervous face of the mother, a platinum blonde, reflected disgusted irritation.
- You are crazy? Are you drunk?!
- No…
- No I can not! This is some kind of horror. Vitalik, Vitalik, look at her!
...and wringing her hands dramatically, she rushed into the living room; The mother walked around the house in slippers that looked like dress shoes - and the rumble of their backs echoed through the apartment. Leera sighed and, turning the mixer to the shower, put one foot in the bathtub. Indeed, she got into not only tomatoes, but also clay, and even the husks spat on by the Giaullins.
She had not yet had time to wash it when a new character appeared - the tall stepfather Vitalik, who worked for his mother as a freight forwarder. Strings of squid were sticking out of his mouth, hanging from his lips like mud from a crayfish's claws: he was lying on the sofa again, drinking beer. He looked at Lera with lascivious eyes and barked:
- What are you talking about, or what? How are you doing?
“Fuck off,” the girl muttered through her teeth.
This made him angry. He shook the amber crumbs from his lips and decisively stepped into the bathroom.
- How are you talking, scarecrow?!
Gritting her teeth, Valeria sharply twisted the round thing with the red plastic tip and directed the shower towards her stepfather. Hot, although not boiling water, but an unpleasant stream hit him in the chest and in the face.
- Aaaah!!! - he yelled, jumped back, hit the door and fell with a crash in the corridor - Aaah!!! Bitch, scalded!
The crash of heels, the lamentations; the mother lifted the whining Vitalik. Then she shouted hysterically through the slightly open door:
- Wipe up the water, you bastard! I'll arrange it for you...
And she dragged her stepfather into the living room, there was a fuss and whining...
Valeria washed her feet, then silently wiped away the puddles of water on the bathroom floor, lined with black and gold tiles and on the hallway laminate - carelessly, moving a wet rag with her bare foot. She threw the rag into the cream sink with Italian fixtures and went to her room; there she pulled off her jeans and climbed under the blanket in a T-shirt, plugging headphones into her ears. Silence fell under the arches of the large, richly furnished apartment...
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Tags:
barefoot, school, barefoot, pedagogy
Category:
Literature ~ Prose ~ Story
Published:
01/26/2013
© Copyright: Igor RezunView author's profile
| Leave a message... Comments: 00 Igor Rezun This chapter was also checked. Dear readers, if you find any typos, write here! Thanks in advance! January 30, 2013 Comment |
Inserts for correcting flat legs
If a child complains of knee pain, an orthopedist may recommend special inserts. They are designed for each child individually to accurately correct the defect. But you must remember that insoles only help maintain the correct shape of the leg obtained through exercise. They also provide proper stress so that the child does not have pain in the legs. However, they do not replace gymnastics. Therefore, if a child does not exercise, the muscles will become lazy and flat legs will only grow. You cannot buy ready-made inserts without consulting a podiatrist.
Can shoes cause harm?
Why do shoes have such an adverse effect on children's feet? First of all, this is due to the fact that basically all modern shoes are created in accordance with a certain fashion. First of all, people pay attention to the beauty, and not to the comfort of shoes.
The feet of adults are no longer so susceptible to the negative effects of uncomfortable shoes. However, it is very easy to damage the feet of children under four years old with shoes.
During these years, the child’s leg is still developing. The arch of the foot is made up of cartilage, which will later turn into bone. But until this moment, the baby’s legs are significantly exposed to any influences.
Exercises for children with flat legs
You can use natural situations that will not be an additional burden for the child. Good results are achieved barefoot on soft ground. The child reflexively squeezes his fingers, maintaining muscle tension. If your child rides a bike, it's a good idea to set the saddle too high. Then, as the pedals reach your toes, the strength of your leg muscles will increase. Then he has to hold them with his fingers and so he exercises his legs. It is also worth teaching your child several exercises that strengthen the raising muscles and ensure that they do this several times a day. This is very important because only systematic and frequent training will bring the expected results. This is best done in the form of a joint game. Here are some exercise tips:
- walking on toes
- barefoot walking mat or running on the floor with a caterpillar walk (child wearing socks, curling and straightening toes like a caterpillar to move to a specific location) - if there are more children, you can organize races with feet grabbing small toys (e.g. balls, blocks , plastic figures) by throwing them or putting them in a box.
Children walk barefoot and don't get sick
Africans are not overprotective. Infants are strapped to their backs with an ordinary terry towel; strollers are used mainly by tourists.
“Local doctors believe that walking barefoot is beneficial, and parents support them in this,” the woman adds. - So all the children - on the street, in the store, in the parking lot - only walk barefoot. In shoe stores you can find Crocs or cheap plastic sandals. The biggest success will be sneakers.
The sight of feet black with mud hurts the eye, but local parents don’t care at all. Moreover, children walk barefoot even in winter, when the temperature drops to 0 ºС. It's cold even to look at them. It seems that these children should get sick often, but this is not the case. Apparently, plenty of sun and a variety of fruits and vegetables help them maintain their immunity.”
By the way, Africans get sick, according to the Russian woman, very rarely. Moreover, no one self-medicates: if necessary, residents turn to doctors in the hospital, because the only things you can buy at a pharmacy without a prescription are a bandage, herbal cough syrup and sea water for nasal drops. Even purchasing a regular painkiller will require a doctor's prescription.
“Judging by the fact that everyone is almost always present in the kindergarten, there are no such waves of ARVI as in Russia. Specific local diseases such as malaria or yellow fever occur in coastal areas along the border with Mozambique. In the central part of the country this is all right,” explains the heroine.
Benefits of walking barefoot
Walking barefoot brings many benefits, both from the musculo-ligamentous, proprioceptive and immune systems. Positive effects are also noted in the form of relaxation for the feet (barefoot walking is a form of massage that reduces tension in the legs) as well as improved motor control (barefoot walking requires more caution and concentration, resulting in a quality walk).
Benefits of barefoot:
1.Improved stability of the foot and entire lower limb
Walking barefoot stimulates the deep sensory system (better sense of movement and positioning in space), and also strengthens the stabilization system (passive ligaments, active muscles). The foot in hard shoes is often deprived of stimulation from changing soil, which contributes to the destruction of muscle ligament structures. Walking, running or playing barefoot provides a huge dose of external stimulation that helps strengthen the muscles not only of the foot, but of the entire lower limb. A more stable leg allows for better body control at higher positions, allowing for more relaxed movements.
