Chapter 17. The happiest place on Earth
The day the three musketeers reunited, the bright sun was shining in Los Angeles, as always. I hit Yuri and Victor, meeting them at the airport in a luxurious limousine with champagne.
- First stop - Guitar Center store! - I solemnly proclaimed, watching as they, lounging in a spacious lounge, examine the battery of bottles in the bar of the limousine. I wanted to show them as much as possible, do everything so that they feel happy. For me there was no greater joy than to watch how they, with smiles to their ears, protrude from the windows of the car and bang their songs loudly.
Like Boris, Victor spent all day in the store, trying one after another the instruments sparkling with bright colors.
“This place is just for people like you,” store manager Doug Wiederman told him admirably.
“People like me,” Victor answered from beneath the mane of his hair, “just for places like this.”
On the way home, we stopped in Beverly Hills, and I took a cool picture of my friends — dark eyes and chiseled faces in the shade of palm trees.
We had dinner on the first night in a Japanese restaurant, where Victor could enjoy his beloved “tso-sauce”, and the next day went to Venice Beach ... We did not miss a single hippist shop, rode on horseback, and, together with my grandmother, enjoyed lobsters in the famous "Palm" and relaxed in the beach house of my parents in Malibu.
- Look, dolphins! I screamed loudly, standing on a huge terrace overlooking the sky-blue ocean, stretching to the horizon. Not hearing an answer, I turned and saw that Victor and Yuri, wrapped in terry robes, were quietly taking a nap in the sun loungers under the bright sun.
Victor was clearly glad to be in a place where no one knew him, no one asked for autographs from him and did not want to take a picture with him. Just hanging out with your best friend - just like it was before fame - just walking along the beach with me and enjoying the sunset over the ocean.
On the third day, I prepared a stunning surprise for them. Both knew that I never, under any circumstances, cook - mainly because I simply do not know how. And then I sit them at the dinner table, blindfold my napkins and tell them to wait.
Not without reason they suggest that now I will burn the house.
“So, we quickly decide where to run,” Victor says loudly to Yuri.
- Hey, I hear everything! - yelling to them from the kitchen.
“We just run nafig,” Yuri answers, “we run wherever our eyes look, without stopping.”
Finally, I take out from the kitchen a huge bowl of salad with cheese, chicken, tomatoes, croutons, lettuce and hard-boiled eggs. Guys look from salad to me and vice versa and cannot believe their eyes. I also put on the table bunches of grapes, homemade chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine.
- Who are you? - asked Yuri with his mouth full. “And where did you get my wife?”
It was the first and last time in my life when I was cooking.
The next day we went to Disneyland. When we approached the entrance, tears came to my eyes. Victor and I dreamed about this day for years: having secretly stumbled together somewhere in the corner at the next party, we talked endlessly about the various attractions and goodies that await us here.
“Joe,” he whispered in my ear. - A dream comes true ...
It feels like there was a child in front of me. The largest rock star of the Soviet Union, an idol, a hero, almost a god for millions of his fans, for what circle didn’t get off the carousel, and a smile never left his happy face. All this was like a fairy tale!
We did not seem to have missed a single attraction. My favorite photo is Yuri and Victor with the words “Disneyland!” The happiest place on Earth! ”Victor’s face has the same children's smile from ear to ear.
When we returned to the city, I led them to Frederick Wiseman to get acquainted with his world-famous art collection. In the house he had thousands of works: Henry Moore, Warhol, Alberto Giacometti, Picasso, Rodchenko, Roden, David Hockney, Willem de Kooning and Roy Lichtenstein.
“I buy what my heart lies for,” he told Victor and Yuri. - Therefore, I have such an unusual collection. The only thing that unites all these things is me.
The guys, giggling, went from work to work, lingering at the nude sculptures.
Then we drove south from Los Angeles to my father, and all the way, while we rushed through the desert, Yuri and Victor screamed songs loudly, shouting music rushing from the car speakers.
My father was terribly happy with the guests, asked them about life in the USSR and laughed uncontrollably at their sarcastic answers.
“Let me take a picture of you all,” I suggested.
Father proudly sat on the sofa between Yuri and Victor, putting his hands on their knees. After that, he drove us to a restaurant on his huge brown Cadillac.
“Does any of you know how to drive?” He asked when, after supper, we again got into the car. They both shook their heads in disappointment. Father nodded, turned the car around, and we drove up to an empty parking lot.
- Well? He asked, leaning back in the driver's seat. - Who is first?
The guys took turns stiff legs stinging on the gas, bringing out uneven circles in the parking lot, and refused to stop.
- Freedom! - Victor shouted joyfully, making the next round. - Freedom!
When it seemed that we had already tried all the fun, my friend Mark Rosenthal called.
- But do the guys want to shoot? He asked excitedly.
- Shoot? - Yuri heard our conversation. - It would be cool!
Victor nodded enthusiastically.
Before I could come to my senses, I was already standing in a dash with protective headphones on my head and a Magnum.357 revolver in my hands. Yuri chose the same for himself, and Victor clutched a machine gun in his hands - exactly the same as he saw in numerous films.
- Ready?! - loudly, so that you could hear through the headphones, shouted Mark. - One, two ...
Victor began to shoot, his whole body shook with every bullet flying out of the barrel of a weapon. We all looked at him as if spellbound.
- Oooo! - He issued a triumphant cry, when he finally defused the entire clip and turned his face shining with happiness.
“Well, perhaps this is where we will end,” said Mark, removing his weapon.
I looked at Victor and Yuri. I was not at all ready to finish. I didn’t want it to ever end. The three of us could find ourselves on a desert island, where there is nothing but sand, salt water and a machine gun Victor, and this would be for us the happiest place on Earth.