General Line

Part One. The Running Champion.

Kostya was the champion of Kyiv in running. Just once. A tall, lanky, smart Jewish boy. He always boasted that he could run fast and even walked through the streets in a way that made everyone else chase after him. He enjoyed it. He always said he didn’t need martial arts; he could always run away. He entered university because his parents told him to. After a while, he got tired of studying and made the only decision that seemed best for him – he ran away. He and his classmate robbed a computer lab, stealing hard drives from the Pravets-21 computers, each worth as much as a “Zhiguli.” The plan was to sell the hard drives and live freely. The assumption was that “no one would be able to prove anything.” But there was no need to prove anything. Instead of studying, they spent their days in the computer lab, and later, when several computers wouldn’t turn on and someone wanted to ask if they had installed any kind of protection, they were nowhere to be found. They didn’t show up that day. It was only much later that they realized it was theft when they thought to open the cases. They quickly contacted their parents, hoping the boys had just taken the drives for data transfer. But the parents asked them not to call the police and dug into their savings. The two idiots (each with an IQ definitely over 150) didn’t make much money. Gloomy resellers in leather jackets cornered the boys against the wall and simply asked, “Where did you get these?” They offered them a deal they couldn’t refuse: the resellers would pay whatever they deemed appropriate for the “drives,” and the boys wouldn’t end up in jail. At that time, private individuals didn’t have many “hard drives,” and legends like “this is from a home computer” didn’t hold water.

That’s why the boys’ freedom came to an end quickly. They managed to run across the rooftops of cars in the parking lots of Moscow’s residential areas, wander through the subway tunnels, and not get caught, and eventually, they returned home.

Realizing that a computer is just a collection of parts, Kostya became a businessman and started earning significantly more than his entire family. When the family won a green card, he turned it down. He was already married, his wife was well into her pregnancy, and the U.S. disrupted all his plans as a successful businessman, like “500 video doubles picked up from a warehouse in Kyiv.” To solve the problem with the green card and his family, Kostya once again resorted to the only solution that had saved him in all times – he ran away. Now he was on the run from his wife. Although his earnings as a businessman were solid, they were not enough to own or rent a place. The family didn’t worry too much and simply left without Kostya. His parents had already formed an opinion and stopped believing in him, investing more in his younger sister, whom Kostya couldn’t understand why anyone would love. She couldn’t even run properly.

The wife’s family, living in a three-room apartment in Nivki and already having two kids of their own, was a bit taken aback by the prospect of having Kostya and his screaming son move in with them, so Kostya didn’t stay long. He ran away again. He took his wife, his child, his nationality, and moved them all to Israel.

In Israel, he turned out to be of no use to anyone. He didn’t want to learn Hebrew, and they didn’t take him as a programmer – he could have been a system administrator, but he still lacked both education and Hebrew skills. Overall, he spent his life in front of the computer, constantly reinstalling the system and reorganizing folders on the disk – just to make it look nice. His wife had nowhere to go. She didn’t have such a beautiful nationality, and she decided to make the most of her chance for immigration. Hebrew, hard work – just like with aliyah.

After almost a year of “vacation at the resort,” as Kostya referred to his situation, his wife rightfully started to nag him, and their family life began to crack. What does Kostya do? That’s right! He meets some girl online and runs back to Kyiv. Without citizenship. Without a place to live. Not even with the right to see a doctor. Since then, Kostya’s trail goes cold in some rented room with walls painted blue, where he once again started a “new life.”

The Kostin family has managed to establish themselves very well in the USA. Their daughter graduated from university, and the parents are working in their field for good money.

Kostin’s wife also built a successful career—she studied very well at university, and nothing less could be expected from her. Their son graduated from university, she remarried, lived with her husband without any issues, and their new children were also well taken care of.

Part Two. Capturing Attention.

Once upon a time, there was a Jewish guy named Zhenya from Odessa, who realized early on that he could attract attention not just with good grades in school, but also through other, perfectly legal means. At first, he drew attention because he was Jewish, but when his parents moved him to Israel, that stopped working. So, he got into piercings and tattoos. This gave him a sense of toughness and heroism in his own eyes, and, besides, it was a completely legal way to stand out. Now, the only audience he had left was his parents—when you make aliyah, you initially have few acquaintances whose opinions you care about.

In Israel, he served in the IDF and trained as a chef. Working as a doctor, IT specialist, or lawyer wasn’t quite as “appealing.” Of course, to continue being “attractive,” he often traveled to Ukraine. It was inexpensive, fun, and a great place to hang out. Yes, fate had already set its traps, and he met a girl there. Just the right one for him—so that his parents, having moved past their tattoos, would be left in shock again. After all, it was still important for the boy to attract attention. The girl was Ukrainian, older than him, a head taller, and twice as broad.

For Zhenya, it was just another “tattoo.” He remained a noble hero within himself – he loved his wife for her rich inner world. At the same time, he clearly managed to attract the attention of those around him, especially his mom and dad. The girl was from a village near Kyiv, and with her own hands, she made cheese, cooked jam, baked pies and bread, and at times, she would stop horses in mid-gallop and enter burning houses.

They started living together and making a living by selling… no, not cheese or jam. Hummus. Hummus is definitely more appealing (in a feminine sense). Of course, they got married. But they had to make the wedding “attractive” in some way, you know, from the perspective of a guy with tattoos and piercings. So the wedding was “kind of Jewish,” but that was just for flair and theatrics. They didn’t even have a rabbi; they had a rabbi’s wife—just to make sure it was appealing to both the parents and the in-laws.

Of course, his “Jewishness” was just a facade to attract attention. Right after the wedding, he needed to continue what he had started, and Zhenya renounced his Israeli citizenship and reclaimed his Ukrainian one. He felt exactly the same way: “I’m doing a noble thing, and no one can accuse me of being provocative.” And, to make sure his parents didn’t think he was slacking off, he switched to speaking Ukrainian, even though he had natural difficulties with it—Hebrew and Russian (of the Odessa variety) were his native languages. He would go on about his honesty and principles, claiming that since he was in Ukraine (making hummus, of course), he had to be Ukrainian. But we know the truth. It was all just to make his parents feel even prouder.

Unfortunately, for Zhenya, with his new BIG love, things with children didn’t work out for a couple of years, and Zhenya made another important decision. No, not IVF, no, not treatment or diagnostics. He decided to a) adopt, b) two at once, and c) (to make it even more challenging) with mental disabilities. Bingo. Mom and Dad will definitely be taking their pills.

They were able to help the girls. The children became almost normal, no longer afraid of the world, enjoying dancing, swimming, and developmental games. Everything is fine with the kids; they are lucky.

And then Zhenya got divorced. Of course. There was no progress in the shock value, and the moment came when Mom and Dad would be taking valerian for the fact of the divorce rather than for the continuation of the marriage. But, to maintain some “appeal” after the divorce, fate lent a hand. The war began. His ex-wife fled to Ireland with the kids as a refugee, while Zhenya signed up as a volunteer in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Honestly, nobly, and his parents were in shock. Just what was needed.