Posts from Traveler’s journal.

Traveler's Diary
1. A smart traveler doesn't drink.
I'm telling you about myself for the first time, so I don't even know where to begin. Probably with my name. Well yes, that would be quite logical. So, if anyone's interested, my name is Maksim Sinsky. I'm twenty-three years old, quite good-looking, with a fine body and above-average height — my mother always used to say so.
I lived and grew up, or so I thought, in the most ordinary of towns with a pleasant name — Raisky — and worried about nothing at all. A wonderful place: all the people were kind, friendly, and honest. Some said it was because of the harsh punishment for any bad or unlawful deed — a brutal murder carried out in front of everyone. But personally, I believe the truth is that every person's soul and mind are pure, free of sinful thoughts.
To tell the truth, I was sure that absolutely everyone lived this way, and I never even considered other possibilities. My father, though, kept saying I was too naive, and that it apparently couldn't be cured — which always hurt me deeply. But the time came when he'd had enough of it, and he decided to try opening my eyes to certain details that, according to him, were unwelcome in our town.
It turned out that our entire world consists of small towns, separated by no great distance, yet each with an utterly different way of life. You think that's a trifle? In a way you'd be right — any fool can see that our town isn't the only one, I always knew that. The trouble lay, rather, in the thought that absolutely every little town is a kind of mystical field that makes it unique. They all differ in climate, customs, laws, mentality, and many other details that shape everyday life. To put it plainly, according to my father, the world turned out to be a vast theatre, and each town could be called a separate stage, where everyone plays their part and is afraid of disrupting their familiar life. Even though the towns border one another, everywhere they try to limit contact and make do solely with the transport of goods.
The features common to all places, my father admitted, were a shared language that everyone spoke, and the currency. Absolutely everywhere, only coins bearing the image of a smiling jester on the obverse and a handshake on the reverse were accepted.
Naturally, all of this struck me as absurd. I took it for a prank and proposed a wager to my father: I'd go look at the other towns, and when I returned, I'd share observations that would prove his words wrong. To this he merely wished me luck, saying it was better to see the world than to live the way I did, gave me a symbolic sum of money to get by for a short while, and added that I should give his regards to his brother Philip, who had married and moved to the town of Listvenny.
I wasn't even stopped by my mother's tears — when she learned of my plan, she yelled at my father and literally begged me to abandon this foolish idea. But I wouldn't yield to persuasion, and she had to give in, though in her heart she never accepted my decision. My friends couldn't have cared less what I did with myself — it was honestly hurtful how little my fate concerned them. Only Marina, my best childhood friend whom I was counting on marrying once I became worthy of her, supported my undertaking and told me everything would be fine and she'd be glad to hear the story of my trip. She's the only one I'd already begun to miss.
The truth is, the argument with my father was merely a perfect excuse to set out on the road, because I was ready to do anything as long as I didn't have to work. And in our parts, idlers are not loved and are strictly punished. But leaving our borders was by no means forbidden — the only requirement was not to disgrace your native parts.
Thanks to the fact that everyone in our town is close-knit, Uncle Igor volunteered to take me to Wildwest. He often hauled his apples there for the local production. I was even curious what they made so tasty out of apples in that place. Maybe pies? The only downside was that we had to leave early in the morning, so no one besides my parents came to see me off.
I was all groomed and scrubbed, dressed in a black three-piece suit, shod in pretty patent-leather shoes. I can't say I was comfortable — rather, it was very hot (on the whole, I was puzzled that the weather outside had grown so hot in such a short time; I'd never felt such a sharp change of climate), but my mother insisted so persuasively that all decent people dressed exactly this way that I couldn't bring myself to resist.
So toward midday we arrived in a town unfamiliar to me, or more precisely at a small wooden house, beyond which, not far off, could be seen a multitude of larger wooden structures. Uncle Igor said this was the formal boundary between the towns.
Near this house I noticed three strange men in similar hats, sitting at a table next to the house, playing with some odd paper cards. They were dressed lighter and looser than I was. Two of them wore unbuttoned short-sleeved checkered shirts, and the third had decided to limit himself to a simple brown kerchief; all three wore identical brown trousers of some fabric I couldn't identify, and all three had similar boots with spurs. And most importantly, from all their belts hung some curious leather pouches of a strange shape, containing objects unknown to me at the time.
When Uncle Igor and I drove closer, those men looked at me with some doubt. Of course, I can understand them now — pale, scrawny, and dandified, I really did look rather out of place against these tanned and warlike men. We pulled up to the house as close as we could, after which Uncle Igor asked me to sit quietly in the cart while he settled some business. I didn't have much choice, so I had to wait. Fortunately, his exchange with those men didn't last long, and soon we continued on our way, while those men waved to us and sat back down at their table with the cards.
As we drove through the town, I kept silent and looked around at the surroundings, which seemed very curious to me. But Uncle Igor preferred to talk and tried to convey to me that I needed to watch what I said, learn how to behave in such company, and hide my fear — otherwise I'd regret it for the rest of my very short little life. By the way, up until that moment I had never in my life experienced fear; I'd always done everything as it seemed right to me, and so I'd never been afraid of anything. And I couldn't grasp in time what he meant by a short little life, either. Uncle Igor then went on counseling me about something for a long while, but I wasn't interested. I slipped into daydreams of how I would conquer this town, and after it, others. I fancied myself a kind of discoverer setting out on an easy and fascinating stroll.
Without even noticing it, we pulled up to some establishment over which, in large strange letters, was written "SALOON." The word seemed utterly absurd and incomprehensible to me, but intuitively I felt that this must be a place where food was cooked and served. The atmosphere inside was unconventional: some people were talking loudly, others sat at a big table playing with the same paper cards as those men at the border, yet others were flirting with beautiful women in gorgeous outfits — some of whom were dancing, others serving food and drinks — while the rest of the patrons slept sitting at their tables. Nearly everyone around was united by one fact: they were drinking beverages unfamiliar to me. These people reminded me of wild animals, which repulsed me at first — I wasn't used to seeing anything like it. Even then I started to believe, a little, that my father hadn't lied to me, but my mind at that point wasn't yet ripe for a full comprehension of all the information I'd received.
While I, the gawker, was admiring the sumptuous dancing ladies, whose outfits seemed to me overly revealing for women, Uncle Igor had a word with the establishment's owner. They exchanged a few words, and a little later my only acquaintance in this place said goodbye to me and set off out of town.
Without taking my eyes off the magnificent beauties, I walked up to the bar and gazed dreamily at the pretty ladies. Not a single resident of Raisky could have allowed herself to wear anything so tight, so flattering to a lovely figure, so bare around the legs. All the girls wore beautiful high-heeled shoes that made their legs even lovelier. Until that day, it had never crossed my mind that women's footwear could look so interesting. Come to think of it, even Marina, who was the acknowledged beauty of our town, looked utterly gray and nondescript next to them — though, unlike these loose women, she had a different, special charm that made her more interesting. I could have admired this sight for hours, but I was interrupted by a girl who slid onto the stool beside me.
"And what ill wind blew such a dressed-up — and possibly rich — young fellow into this dump?"
"Are you addressing me?" — I was somewhat stunned. Never before had a member of the fair sex addressed me in such a manner. And the girl turned out to be, at first glance, far nicer than all those nymphs around. The face of this green-eyed girl could be called angelic, and her figure was finer than the rest. Unlike the other beauties, she wore a less provocative dress and low-heeled boots, which helped her stand out, in an interesting way, against the others. But what caught the eye most of all were her long, bright-red curly locks — they looked very exotic. What kind of hair color was that? Could nature really create something like this?
"If you look around, you'll notice that everyone else is dressed differently, and you're the only one standing at the bar. In any case, I'll deal with your look later — for now, let's have a little beer and you can tell me about yourself and how you ended up in this hole. It's been a while since I've talked to a handsome fella like you."
"Beer? What's that?" — For some reason my question caused the stranger enormous surprise; she even gave a quiet little giggle, which I found charming.
"And you're a funny one. Never seen a man like you before. Don't worry — right now I'll help you get acquainted with the nectar of the gods. Joe, bring two glasses of beer! The tasty one, not that lousy knockoff you sometimes pour."
I was very impressed by such an interesting description of a beverage. As the man everyone called the barman poured the beer into glasses, I tried to imagine what this beer actually was, what this divine nectar had to be made of, and what taste it must possess. I wasn't bothered in the least by the color, the foam, or the gas bubbles in the glass — I so wanted to finally find out what this thing was.
"Well, here's to getting acquainted! I'm Alisa, by the way, and it's very nice to meet you!" — The girl raised her glass and waited for me to do the same, then brought it to mine and clinked it gently.
"And I'm Maksim, and I'm very pleased to meet you!"
We both brought the beer to our lips. Imagine my reaction when I tasted the so-called beer. I managed a swallow only with enormous effort, despite wanting to spit out this filth, while the girl downed a third of her glass in one go. What kind of perverted tastes must one have to call this vile swill the nectar of the gods?
"What nasty stuff!" — At my yelp, nearly every patron of the establishment glanced over, but very quickly everyone preferred to return to their own business, whereas Alisa was indignant.
"Joe, did you slip our guest your counterfeit?" — The girl sniffed my glass, then took a sip. "It's not nasty at all," — Alisa said, slightly offended, — "it's good beer, you probably just haven't acquired the taste yet. Drink a little more and it'll go down easier. Your name's interesting, by the way — I like it, first time I've come across one like it."
Finding the strength within myself, I took another couple of swallows, but no miracle occurred. Gradually I emptied my glass and managed to get used to the unpleasant taste. My head started to spin, and very strange sensations came over me; I couldn't tell whether I felt good or bad, and while I was rummaging through my own well-being, the girl quietly ordered two more beers, and we kept drinking.
"My friends and those closest to me call me Maks, if that's easier." — I managed with some effort, which, judging by everything, pleased my companion.
As we drank, Alisa told me about alcohol, spirits, and how alcoholism is not a disease at all — it was invented by non-drinkers to justify their pathological hatred of wonderful beverages and their own inability to control their behavior when drunk. I had never in my life heard such positive things about anything as I heard about this alcohol. With every minute I felt less and less like myself, and it was hard to tell whether I liked this state or not. Over the course of the day we talked about many things. It turned out the girl herself had arrived in this godforsaken place about a month ago. She told me everything she knew about it. For example, it was all run by a certain Beedle who had settled in a large mansion on the outskirts of town — he'd even fenced himself in so that no one would bother him with foolish questions. It turned out that this, as she put it, vile old geezer had established a tyranny in this town, taking a liking to whichever local women pleased him "for various amusements" — it took me a while, by the way, to grasp what Alisa meant. And all the strongest men served him faithfully and helped terrorize the dissenters. She also vented her anger that this same Beedle allowed absolutely anyone into Wildwest, but only let merchants leave. That was how I learned that we were both stuck in a foreign town, and I realized that my idea of traveling wasn't so novel or original after all. I also learned that this wild girl was practically my age — only half a year older.
The girl called me funny, silly, naive, infantile, a mama's boy, and something else I didn't catch. I didn't understand then what she meant by it — after all, I love my mother very much, and besides, I knew little about insults and humiliation; it wasn't our custom to offend others. So I didn't get upset and kept drinking and chatting with this charming creature, though, had I assessed the situation differently, I'd have been better off not getting involved with this madwoman at all. Little by little I lost control of myself completely.
Aliska — I didn't even notice when I'd started calling her that — decided it was time to go for a walk and get some air. First she took me to some shop where she picked out clothes for me. It turned out she had very good taste, and within a few minutes I'd gone from a dapper gentleman to, as she put it, a little cowboy. She even picked me out a fine hat. On one hand, I now fit the atmosphere perfectly; on the other, the elements of light blue, for some reason, made me stand out from the others. She said it was because of my innocent, pure gaze, but I think she'd had a hand in it — and in a good way. In any case, I was pleased, though altogether I'd spent the greater part of my money. At first I almost threw the suit away, but Alisa suggested it was a good one and might still come in handy.
We didn't wander around town for long, but in that time I managed to sober up slightly and feel just how comfortable I was. I don't know whether it was the new style of clothing, or the alcohol, or maybe both factors made me feel more confident among the locals.
In the evening we went drinking at the bar, where I was offered a chance to try tasty moonshine made from Uncle Igor's apples, but Alisa forbade such nuclear experiments. She also recommended I eat something so I wouldn't feel even worse, so I ordered a huge portion of meat with something, beans I think. I don't even remember what kind of meat it was, but I remember how much I liked it. Closer to night, when there were many more patrons, she sat me down at a table with some men who were playing with those strange cards. Aliska told me a lot about the cards and how to play them. She even managed, through cheating, to win us money for beer — by the way, alongside other people's coins she also appropriated some of mine, though in exchange she treated me to food and drink. I didn't even notice when she climbed up onto the bar and was loudly singing something, dancing, while the other men threw their arms around me and said that with this one, it was never boring. Thanks to her, I was warmly accepted and treated like one of their own. This led me to think that my father was partly mistaken and our towns weren't so different after all. In short, we drank and ate well into the night, and I have no idea when it all ended.
I woke up toward the middle of the day, and around the same time I learned what a hangover was — something else I'd heard about from Aliska's words. It was the most disgusting state of my life. I won't describe in detail what I went through, but believe me, I will never forget that nightmare. My new acquaintance, on the other hand, felt marvelous. She bustled around my bed, gave me some pills, made a vain attempt to feed me meat soup, stroked my head, and told me I'd learn to drink and it wouldn't be this bad next time. I lay in bed for a very long time before I realized that I was in Aliska's house and had been sleeping in her bed. Since I saw nothing in the room but a wooden table with stools and a small cabinet by the bed, all sorts of bad thoughts began to creep into my head. I was frightened that, having been out of control, I had taken advantage of the same state of this poor beauty and dishonored her. What horror! I didn't even remember when it could have happened!
And yet my parents had always taught me that one must never treat a lady badly. In Raisky, you court a girl you like for a long time, then make a proposal, and only then go further. I was terribly ashamed, and I understood that there would be no road home for me unless I married the poor girl. Though, to be honest, I had no desire to tie my life to some mostly unfamiliar drunkard.
When Alisa once again brought me a plate of soup, with the comment that it would do me good and I'd feel better — I just needed to make a little effort to eat — I found the strength to get down on my knees and propose to her, and apologized for not having a ring.
I never could have imagined she'd start laughing, barely holding the plate in her hands. I felt hurt and ashamed; I didn't understand what exactly made this girl laugh. Maybe in her parts it isn't customary to propose on one's knees, or maybe she was amused that I was before her in such an absurd pose and in nothing but my underdrawers. Though somewhere in my soul I felt relief — after all, we'd known each other far too briefly for a quick wedding.
"What a sweetie you are." — Aliska barely squeezed out, summoning her willpower to hide her laughter. It didn't come easily to her. — "But if you're making this gesture only out of guilt, relax — nothing happened between us. You're very interesting and funny, but I'd never have taken advantage of you against your will and in such a state. Besides, I don't approve of infidelity, and back in your native parts you've got some fiancée waiting, don't you? Although you do have something attractive about you. Damn, did you really get so drunk you don't remember what we talked about?"
Little by little, additional lost events began to surface in my head, and because of them my familiar picture of the world collapsed. The memory that Alisa travels from town to town in search of the ideal lover, one capable of satisfying all her vulgar needs, hit me over the head like a brick. Perhaps that might have been a trifle, but on the whole she'd led a dissolute life and had even, for some time, been a practitioner of the oldest profession. I won't mention here what that specialty is, because it's horrible and immoral and I condemn that line of work! If her words are to be believed, thanks to that job she'd learned a great deal — though it's hard for me to imagine exactly what. Eventually she'd had enough of it and come to the realization that taking money for such an activity was immoral and shameful, and besides, she didn't want to spend her time with just any man, but only with special ones. In the end she'd visited several towns and found no one yet, when she heard about the mighty mayor of Wildwest and rejoiced that she'd found her happiness — only no one had mentioned that he was a short man over sixty. Come to think of it, she seemed to have put all this in cruder, more vulgar terms, but I'll spare you the extra details.
To be honest, after all of this I lost my desire to have anything to do with Alisa. She was ruining every notion I'd formed of what a woman should be. Proper girls behave like real ladies. They ought to be modest, quiet, gentle, fragile, and chaste. And she drank alcohol — and a great deal of it — talked loudly (though that might have been forgivable), behaved crudely, and turned out, on top of everything, to be an immoral creature. Even men don't behave as wrongly as this madwoman.
"Alisa, thank you for the strangest day of my life, but please let me get dressed and leave your house."
"Oh, like I haven't seen anything to be shy about! What's there I haven't seen? Well, there is something I haven't, actually. All right, I'll step out, you change, and then we'll go get a hair of the dog — I could use one too. We can also discuss what to do about leaving Wildwest and setting off on a trip. Our choices are Flig — I know nothing about it at all — Durman, which is where I came from, in case you forgot, and which I can tell you is boring and doesn't live up to its name at all, quite the contrary in fact — and your Raisky, but you've been there, and going by your stories I don't want to. How glad I am I can finally get the hell out of this hole!" — She rattled all this off so fast I couldn't get a word in.
"You've probably misunderstood me, but I don't want to have anything to do with you. Your behavior is too immoral and unworthy of a girl. I don't mean to offend you, but interacting with you is unpleasant for me, so please let me get dressed and leave your house."
"Then go to hell, the lot of you, messing around with you here." — Alisa behaved quite restrainedly for herself; I'd expected her to at least dump a plate of her soup over my head. The girl carefully set the dish on the table and reminded me that if I wanted to recover, I really ought to eat. After that she disappeared through a side door, which was most likely the kitchen.
I felt ashamed, because I had never in my life offended people, let alone women. I put on the outfit Aliska had so carefully chosen for me, sat down at the table, and forced myself to eat. Even though the soup was, surprisingly, exquisite, my appetite was very poor — from the hangover, and from how I'd treated my would-be friend. Finishing my meal, I checked all my belongings, noticed I had very little money left, left my acquaintance's house, and headed for that very "SALOON" to ask the owner what he'd advise for getting out of this town.
There weren't many people on the street, but a couple of times I felt sidelong glances on me, which, however, didn't worry me at the time. When I entered that very establishment, I noticed there was no one inside except the barman. That didn't faze me in the least — yesterday must have been some holiday or day off, and today everyone had gone to work, because that's how it ought to be in a normal society. I walked up to the innkeeper and asked how to get out of this interesting town, but in return I got a bottle to the back of the head. To my luck it didn't break and I didn't lose consciousness; I racked my brain for a long time trying to recall whether I'd ever been hit before, and realized that this blow was the first in my life. Which, by the way, is hurtful and unpleasant, especially when your head already hurts without it. While I was counting the stars and trying to grasp what was happening, some tall fellow with enormous hands grabbed me, turned me to face him, and said:
"Riddle me this — who's going to get a beating today?"
"Good day, good sirs — what's this about?" — that was the only thing that came to mind from the shock. After all, why be rude or try to resist when I'd never had occasion to fight, and making things worse would have been foolish.
"You come to our town, we take you in with warmth and love, and you spend the night in the house of a woman who belongs to our Beedle?"
What do you know! That parasite had somehow neglected to mention she was the beloved of the head of this town. Looking at her from the outside, such an innocent girl with the kindest, purest face — yet inside her lives a cunning succubus-seductress who denies all moral norms. Probably they'd had some lovers' quarrel or similar nonsense, and she, taking offense, had decided to go amuse herself on the side and, at the same time, tickle her lover's nerves. If this man had been alone, I'd surely have told the truth about this snake, exactly as she was — but what frightened me was that behind him there were no fewer than just as many strongmen, and by the look of them, they weren't planning to stand on ceremony with me.
"Gentlemen, listen — don't jump to conclusions. Yes, it's true that yesterday I spent nearly the entire evening in the company of a certain citizen by the name of Alisa, who showed me around town and taught me to consume alcoholic substances. I won't lie, I did indeed spend the night at the aforementioned lady's house, but if you ask her, she'll confirm that absolutely nothing happened between us. And besides, I wasn't in any state to, comrades..." — Judging by the looks on their faces, the goons weren't very satisfied with my answer. First, as it seemed to me, they didn't quite grasp what I'd been babbling about; second, they were set on beating me up regardless. So I resigned myself to the fact that I was about to be beaten, and maybe even killed. Some trip I'd taken.
"Save the chatter." — The man holding me dealt me a hard punch to the stomach, then drew a revolver from his holster — another thing I learned about from Alisa; say what you will, she's a parasite, but she did help broaden my horizons — and threatened to shoot me if he didn't like something I did. — "Let's see how you tell these fairy tales to our Beedle. We're going to him right now."
I didn't have much choice: there was nowhere to run, and running would be stupid — they'd either kill me or maim me. This way, at least, I'd get to meet the local authorities. Maybe the one who'd caused all this hoopla would burn with shame and talk her beloved into letting me go in one piece. Bah — and just an hour ago she'd been babbling about where the two of us would go. Sure, I knew she was a piece of work, but not this much!
The whole way to Beedle's house they kicked me, shoved me, and cuffed me on the back of the head, and after I fell they grabbed me by the legs outright and dragged me across the sand. It was very unpleasant and humiliating, but I didn't dare resist and preferred to submit. The mansion, by the way, turned out to be very large — you can tell someone rich lives there. When they shoved me inside, I was received by a very sweet elderly lady, most likely a servant.
"Young man, please take a seat in the parlor and wait; Mr. Beedle will see you very shortly."
The wait was very painful for me; for a long time I imagined what would happen next. I didn't try to escape, because the house owner's pals were all around, rubbing their hands at the prospect of beating me to death. They didn't make me wait long — literally a minute later into the room came a scrawny man with long gray mustaches and a head nearly gleaming with baldness. He was dressed in a black shirt, black trousers, and black boots; his image was completed when that sweet servant brought him his hat, which added a few centimeters to his height. He confirmed nearly all my stereotypes about villains with his look — though I'd thought he'd have a nasty voice, but on the contrary, it turned out to be quite pleasant.
"Young man, you arrived among us from Raisky, where the most decent people in all the world dwell, only yesterday, and you've already drawn so much attention to your person. I am somewhat astonished by this — you ought to be ashamed. To tell the truth, I'd have taken your presence in our glorious Wildwest in stride, had you not laid hands on something that rightfully belongs to me" — at this phrase, the people around smiled and tittered like madmen, but I held up well and silently looked Mr. Beedle in the eye. — "In any case, I don't intend to stoop to the level of common bandits and simply kill you or beat you in front of everyone. That's not my way. I like things interesting and unconventional. So I'll give you exactly two hours, which you will spend alone in this room. During that time I guarantee your complete safety, provided you don't plan to try to escape. While you sit in there, I'll come up with some interesting way to test whether you're worth anything or not. And if you disappoint me, I'll arrange a very interesting death for you, with which I'll entertain the whole town. I hope these two hours will be the most interesting in your life. If you wish, you may have a little brandy for courage, or anything else you fancy — I don't mind."
Well, there's almost nothing more for me to write here. I can tell you about the room where I whiled away my time. The room was small, but quite roomy. The walls were decorated with light green wallpaper, white furniture stood all around, and the windows were draped with curtains matching the wallpaper, with white ruffles. I spent most of the time sitting at the writing desk, but if you looked around, you might notice a fine sideboard where on the top shelf stood beautiful bottles of some beverages, and on the lower shelf stood shot glasses and wine glasses. I'd have liked it, of course, if those weren't alcoholic. I also noticed a nice, and probably soft, sofa with two cushions. I also saw two large wardrobes that most likely hid clothing. Or maybe something else — I didn't check. And right by the door there's a small mirror. To tell the truth, it probably would have been better to open one of the bottles hidden in the sideboard — especially since, unless I'm mistaken, the host himself offered me a drink — to lie down on the sofa and calmly wait for what would come next. But upbringing wins out; I couldn't allow myself such luxury.
It remains only to add that the sweet old lady looked in on me from time to time and offered tea with cookies. A couple of times I refused, but she always went away looking so upset that in the end I gave in and tasted the treats. By the way, that was perhaps the best tea in my life, and the cookies were very tasty too. It's nice that at least one kind and bright person lives even here. Actually, I started this diary mostly out of a desire to pass the time somehow — I found a notebook in my bag, saw a pen, and decided to start writing. I just hope this sadist doesn't send my scribblings to my parents, otherwise they'll be very ashamed of their prodigal drunkard of a son — especially my mother. I don't think she'd survive such a tragedy.
I didn't even notice the two hours pass, but when I heard the door open behind me, I saw Beedle, with Alisa walking meekly behind him. There's a parasite for you — she cooked up this whole mess, and now she comes walking in with such a sad expression on her face. Ashamed, is she! Or maybe she's talked her lover into pardoning me? That would be wonderful.
"I'd like to not be disturbed." — Beedle said this to his servant, who nodded to him and silently closed the door. — "How glad I am that everyone's assembled! I was beginning to think you'd never show up here, my beauty. Would you like some tea with something tasty? Or perhaps coffee? I can pour something stronger, if you wish."
"Very funny! I've always dreamed of drinking and having a lovely time with an old lecher."
"Now, don't be rude, why so harsh? It's unpleasant, after all."
"And you say that to me? For nearly a whole month you've been trying to drag me into your bed, you call me your woman, your freaks keep chasing after me and demanding I present myself to you at once. And now you've grabbed some poor fellow and — not shy about it — spread the news all over town, just so I'd find out. And so, by sheer force, you've finally gotten your way: I'm here, and I'm finally willing to become your mistress — only let my friend go, and I'll do anything for you!" — To say I was surprised is to say nothing. All this time, in my head, she'd appeared as a foul creature of easy virtue who'd been teasing me, Beedle, and everyone around. And here she says they tried to drag her here by force, and she'd refused. And that she'd ended up here for my sake, on top of that. At that, I felt very ashamed in front of her. Though that doesn't change the fact that she's rude and unpleasant.
"Ah, reputation makes a ruler. But it also spawns such rumors..." — Beedle grew very sad and let out a despondent sigh. — "And personally, I've never once called you mine. Just once I said that a very interesting and pleasant young lady had arrived among us. The rest is rumors, gossip, and fabrications. But you tell me this — if I'm such a treacherous villain, why were you peacefully renting a little house, and never once did anyone try to drag you out of it?"
"Well..."
Alisa put on a thoughtful expression. She searched a long time for what to answer, but apparently couldn't find anything. Of course I had ideas in my head — a madwoman like her might well have beaten up all the men to make them leave her alone — but that's most likely fantasy; no woman could handle a crowd of men, even if she were armed to the teeth and a master of martial arts.
"Exactly! No one ever touched you, and no one needed you. Maybe from time to time they pestered you and demanded you come to me. But that was my pals' initiative — they needed it, not me; take it up with them. By the way, they brought in your fellow on their own, too. If you look closely, he didn't suffer much, and at my place they even fed him and let him rest."
"But I'm not her fellow! I don't even love her! It's all gossip, lies, and fabrication! Where are the facts, where's the proof? I demand a fair and just trial! And a rights advocate, and the carrying out of a last will." — To be honest, I'd lost control of myself and was ready to start screaming. All this time I'd felt tense, mentally preparing for death, and now it turned out I'd been relaxing. No, I'm not playing this game.
"Ah, and yet this man, not long ago, was on his knees proposing to me." — Aliska said it in such a disapproving tone that the situation became completely awkward. — "In any case, I'm for getting down to business. I came here to demand Maks's release, and I'm ready to sacrifice myself for him."
"And what the hell would I need such a sacrifice for? As if I couldn't find better entertainment. And I know far more about you, Alisa, than you think. I know about your former profession, I know about your arrest, I know what you went to prison for, and about your interesting little trait, too, I more or less know. I have connections that help me dig up information about visitors to the city. Were I twenty or thirty years younger, I might just test how true the rumors are. But as it is, I'm an old and ailing man; I need love, care, and affection — and a death from the passion of a beauty. Besides, I don't like forcing anyone against their will; there's no pleasure in that."
If Aliska's profession could no longer surprise me — especially since she'd already claimed to have left the trade — the fact of her arrest astounded me. I'd been socializing with a criminal whom, in my native parts, they'd have executed long ago for all the vices she'd committed. What would people think of me when they found out who I'd been spending time with here? With a biography like that, they'd never want to see me at home again — especially given that I'd been asked not to disgrace my parts — and Marina wouldn't want anything to do with such a scoundrel anyway. Alas, it's too late now, there's nowhere to go, and I'll probably have to look for a new home. That is, of course, if I get out of here alive.
"As a matter of fact, we've got a very strange and unpleasant situation right now. On one hand, I very much want to let you go, so the two of you can set off traveling and having fun — you haven't really done anything bad, after all. On the other hand, if I just let you go like that, I won't be understood. After all, I am a cruel and wicked tyrant who spares no one. Although, truth be told, I do have one harmless plan that will help us all come out of this with our skins intact — though it may not please everyone."
Aliska and I listened very attentively to Beedle's scheme, and I was in a state of shock. He proposed making use of her reputation as an insatiable mistress. To be precise — to spread a rumor that he and I had spent the whole night competing in a passionate battle for her heart, and that in the end the gallant Beedle had decided to yield, because he'd never seen such strong and confident men, after which he'd let us leave, because we were a worthy couple, and he now respected me. Naive as I was, I didn't grasp the full gist of the plan at first, but when the diligent Alisa described in detail what was actually meant, I felt sick. These two wanted my name to be stained with horrible rumors about what an awful person I was! But if such rumors reached my native Raisky, I'd never wash off this disgrace. On the other hand, I already had a reputation as a drunkard who spent the night at a mostly unfamiliar woman's place.
There was no lengthy persuasion, because I was made to understand that if I refused this option, I'd experience physical pain — and a harsh punishment was promised by none other than Aliska herself. But I was promised that I'd live and be able to keep traveling. At least some positive prospects. And maybe I'd somehow manage to clear myself of the rumors. And all that was required of me was to spend a night in a luxurious mansion where they fed you well.
We sat for a long while in Beedle's study, drank magnificent tea, and talked about all sorts of interesting and even pleasant things. First he told us that in the past, terrible chaos had reigned in this town, and everyone around had shown serious cruelty and aggression toward one another. And on the whole, nearly every local absorbs inner fury with their mother's milk. Then he told us about himself — about how hard it had been for him since childhood to watch the horrors unfolding, and how, through cunning, deception, and a minimum of cruelty, he had gained power and risen to the status of a cruel tyrant for whom the residents of Wildwest were ready to do anything. Some of the people he had recruited and they played along in his little cheerful spectacle, while the rest, instead of showing even greater aggression, began to obey his orders unquestioningly. From time to time there were mishaps, and they allowed themselves a little more than they should, but they never questioned Beedle's authority. He also repented that sometimes he himself had sinned for the sake of a graphic demonstration, to prove he was still worth something — because he believed it was better to sacrifice a little than to lose everything.
Somewhere deep down, it was hard for me to accept the fact that I was surrounded by terrible criminals. It all looked very wild. Of course I was very glad that Beedle had managed to make his town a little better, and by himself he didn't come across as a bad man — but then neither did his method seem to me among the best. Although I hadn't forgotten the fact that in every town the inhabitants possess a unique mindset. Of course I'd have liked the same peace and quiet as in my home, but I recalled that I'd set out to experience the uniqueness of this or that place. So any attempts to change anything in other people would be a waste of time.
Beedle also added that he'd see Alisa and me to the borders of whichever town we were heading to. Even though neither of us wanted to set out together at that point, we had no choice, because the legend had to be sealed by our leaving as a couple. Alisa immediately declared that she wouldn't go to Durman or to my "boring" Raisky. Even though I didn't want to go home — especially with my newly refreshed reputation — it was still unpleasant to hear that. And the choice between Flig and Durman was about the same for me, since I knew nothing about either of those towns, so I didn't argue, but asked them at least to tell me what kind of town it was with such an interesting name.
Aliska didn't have to be coaxed, and she readily told me herself how she'd gone to a town with such a telling name to find out what it had been nicknamed for. I don't quite understand what she'd expected from this town, but she got the most awful impressions of her life from that place. It turned out that all of Durman was overflowing with religious fanatics who worshipped some Creator God, who walked around in some kind of dazed state, incapable of and unwilling to communicate with outsiders — though among themselves they all got along fine, actively discussed things, played something, sometimes quarreled and doused each other with filth — in short, they had their own very cheerful atmosphere. And ruling over all of them was some great, luminous, radiant Emperor whose name she hadn't remembered, but who was clearly a very important figure for Durman.
She even managed to learn that the cause of it all was some strange tea they all drank there. By every trick, ruse, and even persuasion, Alisa wanted to get hold of and try that beverage, but she was never allowed to. To be more precise, she was offered the option of praying to their great Creator God, renouncing the joys of this world, and living out her whole life among them, praying in their temple and drinking tea with them — but she chose to decline. Although Alisa honestly admitted that if she found nothing better for her life, she'd most likely return there and accept their faith, if this tea was really worth it. The strangest thing was that she never even figured out what kind of Creator those folks prayed to, since she simply wasn't allowed into the temple, and they said only that he was great and almighty. Even to me, from her account, these people seemed strange, and any desire to go there faded strongly. Unless, perhaps, one could drop in on the way back.
About Flig we tried to ask Beedle, but he only shrugged and said that all he knew was that, for some reason, in those parts all the women were very plump, and their ruler was so fat that for many years she hadn't been able to leave her own house — which on the whole didn't stop her from running the town.
We also chatted about various things; Beedle even told us about his predilections, which I had no desire to know, let alone imagine. Even Alisa took it all with bewilderment and said that you couldn't do that, that it was horrible. As if she were one to judge.
Before we went to bed, the caring Beedle said that he was open to both of us and ready to show himself in certain skills in all their glory, if only we wished — but I didn't understand what he meant, and Alisa asked him not to frighten me, because I wasn't ready to grasp and accept such things. Interesting — what exactly did they mean? Though maybe it really is better for me not to know, in case it's something bad.
The very same sweet old lady who had welcomed me saw us to our bedrooms. From the look of it, she was in charge among the service staff; the others I'd seen practically ignored their guests. I was glad that I'd finally get to sleep, and tomorrow my Wildwest epic would end and nothing bad would happen to me anymore. But Alisa looked downcast and kept wanting to say something yet couldn't bring herself to. And when we reached our little rooms and the servant withdrew, the girl held me back and began:
"Listen, I'm really sorry that the rumors ahead are upsetting you. And I'm sorry you'll have to put up with my company on the way to Flig. But I promise that once we get there, we'll go our separate ways and live and travel the way we did before we met. I don't want to be a burden to you, and it's obviously hard for you to accept a person with quirks like mine. Anyway — good night, and I hope you can put up with me a little longer."
I listened to all of it and silently closed the door without giving her any answer. It came out somehow awkward; I wasn't taught to behave that way. But it isn't that important, because what worried me was whether I'd be able to travel on my own now. Yes, this strange girl is foul and annoying. On the other hand, setting aside that she'd gotten me drunk, she hadn't done anything bad to me. She'd dressed me, introduced me to the culture, broadened my horizons, put me to bed, fed me, nursed me, performed an act of self-sacrifice to try to help me. And yesterday she'd often put a friendly arm around my shoulder, introduced me to everyone, been rude here and there, and taught me about life here and there. It doesn't come off well — what I'm doing to her isn't manly.
I managed to fall asleep very late, from long deliberations about what would become of me, whether I'd cope on my own, and whether it wasn't better to travel with a companion, even one like her. On one hand, she's frightening and unpleasant; on the other, with her it can sometimes be fun, and she most likely won't abandon you in trouble. Besides, I hadn't taken into account where she's from and what had happened to her there. If she'd told me and I'd been too drunk to remember, then I ought to be ashamed.
In the morning, Beedle led the two of us to the center of town and delivered a solemn speech about what a fine fellow I was and what a fine fiancé I'd make for Alisa. Then he went on about how the same little devil lived in me as in him, and how I was fit to be his successor, should I ever wish it. In short, he spouted all kinds of nonsense, but everyone listened closely and looked at me as if they were discovering a new side of me. The people swallowed these fabrications like bait, and judging by the whispering here and there, gossip was already being invented. And while everyone was hanging on their mayor's every word, I carefully drew Alisa aside.
"Listen, I've been thinking — I ought to, well, apologize to you, I suppose. After all, you came to me with love and care, and I was rude and behaved improperly. In short, I'd be glad if you'd forgive me. If not, I'll understand — I was in the wrong."
"Now if you'd only work on yourself a little, build up your self-confidence, get a bit rougher — why, there'd be no price on you. You need to be meaner, harsher. Though what can you expect — where you're from, everyone's probably all friends and singing songs. Peace and quiet! You're lucky to have such a kind place; maybe you should've stayed there? Nothing would've threatened you there, and you'd have been happy. And as for meeting someone like me — don't even get me started! They probably wouldn't let me within a cannon shot of the place!" — She muttered all this quickly, though, thankfully, more quietly than usual.
"Yes, our town is wonderful; there's no place for vice there. But I do admit that life there was gray, boring, and monotonous. Of course I miss some people, but even with my friends I'd never had any fun — certainly not like the day before yesterday. So, all in all, I suppose you're my friend now too."
"What do you mean, 'I suppose'? As if before that we were just two barely acquainted people? If that were so, I probably wouldn't have risked myself to save you."
"I've figured that out by now. And since we're friends, you'll keep me company on my journey?"
"I was starting to think you'd never bring it up and was planning to ask myself. But since you insist — oh, very well, of course I'll go with you. I can't very well leave you alone — someone might do you in, and then I'd have to live with that."
What a rude girl she is — instead of being glad she wouldn't be traveling alone anymore, she even gloats. She wanted to go together herself. I just hope we don't drink anymore, and I won't have to regret anything.
We listened to the rest of Beedle's fiery speech, said goodbye to the townsfolk, and got on the horses we were to ride to Flig. I'm glad I'd managed to learn to ride back in Raisky, otherwise the trip would have been very agonizing and painful for me. Alisa, too, sat her horse quite confidently — she must have learned to ride at some point too — which is a relief; she won't be crying all the way about the pain.
On the whole, I'm glad I decided to travel the world. I lived so long under a dome and only recently realized that everything had to change. And the diary idea appealed to me a great deal too. I decided that, since life had given me this opportunity, I would write in it about every little town I visited. That'll help me look at the whole world in greater detail and discover how they differ from one another. And if I'm lucky, I'll send all this off to the printers and publish a book. I happened to need to find work, and this one isn't so bad. I'll just have to cut some bits — otherwise my new friend Beedle will probably never forgive me for spilling his secret this way.

2. Family life for a traveler.
Strangely enough, I barely felt the road to Flig at all. On the one hand, I understand perfectly well that we spent quite a lot of time on the journey, considering that Beadle accompanied us for the first part, and during the second he asked us to get off the horses and return them “home,” since in his opinion we were perfectly capable of walking the rest of the way. But as it happened, the moment Aliska and I reached the notional border of the new town, I realized I felt no fatigue, had not noticed the change in climate or the fact that evening had already fallen, and in general remembered nothing special from the moment we left Wildwest. The only thing that became clear was that the new place was much cooler, with far more greenery around than in our previous town (though in my native Raisky everything is still greener and more beautiful). This time we were met by a small gate, behind which, as it turned out, sat a thin middle-aged man.
The stranger merely asked our names and clarified whether Aliska and I were married, to which for some reason we answered yes. After that he invited us into town and recommended a place where we would most likely find lodging for the night. He also said something about some traditional local holiday that we, as guests, absolutely had to attend. And overall he added that we were bound to like the town, because everything there was always wonderful.
This beginning seemed very pleasant to me until we entered the town and ran into the residents. The sight brought me back down to earth, and I remembered Beadle’s words about the fullness of the local women. Of course I expected that, because of some features unknown to me, all the ladies here would have outstanding figures, but I never imagined they would all contrast so sharply with the thin, even scrawny men who looked like matches beside them. Damn it, even the little girls there were enormous!
Despite their fullness, all the ladies moved around town quite easily, feeling no discomfort from it at all. Confidence could be read in their eyes; one could feel that they saw themselves as beautiful and that there was no reason whatsoever to doubt it. At the same time, the very slender Aliska attracted far too much attention, because despite her modest closed dress, her beautiful slim figure stood out, and every man passing by noticed it, while the women looked at her with a certain rejection, as if she were ABNORMAL. Though in my “little cowboy” suit I probably looked ridiculous and amusing myself.
If one ignored the residents walking past, the first thing that caught the eye was a large scarlet one-story building in the very center of town, which, as we later learned, had the shape of an even cross when viewed from above. In general, all the buildings around were large and one-story, but only this one covered almost the entire town and literally divided the houses into an even number (at least according to the residents; I did not get to check whether this was true). Almost every separated half had everything “necessary” to limit excessive movement for the locals, but at the same time, if needed, one could use the wide through-doors that were located on practically every side and were never locked, which helped reduce the time spent walking around the entire length of the building.
This place served as both the town hall and the residence of the local ruler, Elvira the Incomparable, who was something of an icon and role model for the residents. It was hard to imagine what this lady looked like and how well she matched her surname, but the importance of this person to the whole town was beyond doubt, since she and some holiday figured in practically every conversation.
The strange thing was that I felt a tremendous desire to get inside and look around. It was not simple curiosity like what had formed in Aliska, but a powerful pull. As if some inner magnet were drawing me in there, which both alarmed me and kindled even greater interest in what I might see inside. I had never experienced anything like it before, so that impression stayed with me for a long time.
Aliska was very pleased to learn that the only place where we could settle (if the owner did not object, though we were promised he would be only too happy) was a bar where the owner served guests food and alcoholic drinks. She needed nothing more for happiness. I, however, wanted some little house where the two of us could live alone, or perhaps two little houses, so each of us would have personal space.
-Stop complaining and take what there is! If you would rather sleep outside, go ahead, I do not mind.
-But how can one live in a place that could be called a public thoroughfare?
-You have not even seen the place yet and you are already talking about a thoroughfare. Maybe it is a luxurious inn with cleaners, servants, and other pleasant things. Though I would not want that; places like that demand far too much money.
-All you ever think about is money, while I am worried we will be uncomfortable!
-I am comfortable anywhere there is a bed, food, and booze. And if it is all cheap, that is the peak of perfection.
We could have argued with Aliska about comfort for a long time, noticing nothing around us, but we were already approaching an establishment with an imposing sign reading “THE BIG GLASS,” so the discussion somehow died down. My companion was rubbing her hands enthusiastically at the thought of locking herself in the bathroom, while I kept worrying that I would not like living there. And the name somehow gave me negative associations with the blackout drinking bout in Wildwest, which I would rather not remember.
The place turned out to be very wide and one-story, just like all the houses around it. The entrance was large and fairly open, and the tables were enormous and square. There was no one in the establishment except a bored bartender reading something that looked like a newspaper. At the sight of us he became slightly embarrassed, but still his face took on a warm and friendly smile, as if he had seen old friends.
This man turned out to be the owner and, at the same time, the bar’s only employee. The place was not especially popular with the locals, particularly those who were married. Avner, as he introduced himself, asked how close my companion and I were, and when he heard our lie that we were married, he was very saddened by the fact. Perhaps he had wanted to make a pass at my companion?
Avner decided to take us straight to our future temporary home, and while we walked down the corridor he told us that a very important town holiday was currently under way: a kind of festival that ended in a huge feast and some important ceremony symbolizing love, harmony, unity, fertility, and other pleasant things he preferred not to list. The owner also promised us that if we agreed to stay until the end of the festival, he would give us a very large discount on lodging, so it would cost us mere pennies. Although Aliska perked up at such an offer, I still preferred to first look at the conditions in which we would be living before making such a serious decision.
Need I say that we hesitated over the discount for a longer stay? Absolutely anyone would agree to live in such heaven on earth! First, the room turned out to be far more spacious than one could have expected! Second, it had a huge roomy bed, a large sofa, and a lot of different furniture placed very conveniently throughout the room. Most importantly, it had a separate bathroom and toilet, which greatly eased certain possible problems. True, the lighting was fairly weak and came only from three thin but tall lamps near the bed, the sofa, and the writing desk, as well as from a very small, narrow, high-set square window that could be opened only by standing on a tall support.
As a gentleman and a man playing the role of a caring husband, I paid for the room out of my own pocket, considering it cost us only thirty coins, though according to Avner, if we had not agreed to his advantageous offer, he would have demanded fifty coins from us for a single day. A normal person would have found this strange and perhaps even alarming, but my naivety combined with Aliska’s greed (or, as she calls it, thrift) led to our being very happy with such generous and humane terms. Besides, I had a very poor sense of lodging prices, so it would have been easy to deceive me with absolutely any sum.
The owner happily went back to work, expecting that at least some customers would soon arrive. Aliska locked herself in the bathroom with her bag and told me to forget about her for the near future, while I found some free time and took a seat at the table to capture all my thoughts in my diary. Judging by the time and by how my eyes were sticking shut, I should have lain down to rest, but inspiration was stronger than all those feelings. It seems to me that if I had put my diary aside for later and tried to sleep, my inner muses would have cruelly tormented me, stirring up thoughts that would have kept me from falling asleep.
I did not feel the passage of time and could not understand how much of it I had spent working on the diary, but at some point all strength left me and I fell asleep, collapsing right onto the table.
At some point, I do not know exactly when, Aliska came crashing out of the bath, thereby waking me from a light, uncomfortable sleep. For a long time I could not force my eyes open, so the sight before me seemed like a mirage for quite a while. In front of me stood a stranger with straight black hair and brown eyes. The only clothing she wore was a knee-length robe. Her feet were completely bare, which was understandable enough with such a clean, warm floor covered by a soft carpet. This could have been absolutely anyone but Alice! At least that is what I thought until she spoke, bringing me back to reality.
-What are you staring at? Never seen women in robes before?
-Y-y-y-your h-h-h-hair...
-What about my hair? Oh, that? Hair dye. I once took a little trip to a town where everyone tried to change their appearance beyond recognition every day. On the one hand, it looked rather silly and strange; on the other, it was fun. And it cost me very little. Everyone assured me it was very good for the hair. And I love anything useful.
-Y-y-your e-e-eyes...
-Huh? You mean the lenses? Yes, I bought those there too. I like playing around with them. My favorites are violet, but I rarely wear them; everyone reacts to me far too strangely when I do. In general I do not play with lenses often. In Wildwest I started wearing them literally the day before you arrived; now I felt like brown, next time I will probably wear blue. Or maybe scarlet or black. I will think about it in my free time.
-Why do all this? – At my shout Aliska flinched slightly and looked at me as if I were abnormal, while she was the only inadequate person here.
-What a stupid question. Same as if I asked why you are so boring.
-Of course, constantly changing your appearance is fascinating and amusing, while natural beauty is of no use to anyone!
-Maybe it is of no use to someone. What is it to you? If you are jealous of me, just say so, I will make you handsome too, your own mother will not recognize you. And if you are whining simply because you feel like it, then I am going to sleep, and you can shove your opinion where you know very well.
I did not understand where I was supposed to shove my own point of view, but there was no sense arguing with this woman, considering she would remain of her own opinion anyway. Though it was impossible not to admit that these changes suited her, just as the red hair and green eyes had. Still, now I know that the wonderful angels she had pretended to be for a while do not exist after all; all of it is illusion and deceit. A self-respecting girl, such as my Marinka, would never in her life think of creating an artificial appearance in order to attract unnecessary attention. Nor would she be rude to me in such a situation. Though I had never noticed her in arguments either. At the same time, it suits my roommate when she begins to behave a little coarsely. On the one hand, such behavior is irritating; on the other, her facial features become more attractive in those moments.
Alice flopped onto the bed and said she was insulted and humiliated, so I was forbidden even to try approaching her bed. How funny; she knew perfectly well I had not intended to. But from her intonation and facial expression it was clear she was only pretending to be offended, and that all of this was merely an operation to capture the huge soft bed. Apparently Aliska was not used to a man voluntarily yielding the more comfortable spot to her without a fight.
Without waiting for my companion to fall asleep, I also spent some time on bath procedures and, stripped down to my underpants, without looking for a blanket or pillow, collapsed onto the sofa and almost instantly switched off, only furtively remembering before sleep the town hall building that drew me with something unknown. Although I slept like the dead, by morning it turned out that experiments of this sort had a bad effect on my condition. I do not know by what miracle, uncovered by anything in the cold, I preserved my immunity, but my neck took full revenge on me for the lack of comfort.
Incidentally, I woke up because my roommate was fussing around and making quite a bit of noise. At one moment she was clattering with something in the washroom, then rummaging in her bag while humming some tune, then doing something else. Although the light was beating through the window at full force, I felt very tired and short of sleep, so automatically, without thinking about anything at all, I headed for Aliska’s bed and collapsed there to sleep some more. I should note that despite all the softness of the sofa, the bed was much more comfortable in every respect. And the pillows were so soft, and the blanket so warm, that I immediately forgot the pain in my neck, the noise coming from Aliska’s actions, the bright sun casting rays into our room through the window, absolutely everything. Now I truly felt good, and so I slept until noon, until my friend stood over my head and began waking me.
-Get up, or you will sleep your whole life away! – Alice gently rocked me on the bed as if I were a little boat on the waves. She was in a cheerful mood.
-Leave me alone, let me sleep. It is still too early to get up. My whole body hurts, especially my neck and head. And anyway, you should sleep too. – I merely turned from my left side to my right and, without opening my eyes, continued sleeping. The last thing I needed was to torment myself because of her whim.
-But it will be evening soon, and you are dressed funny. And it is completely boring here, no one decent to talk to. – My tormentor came right up close to me, and I could already feel her breath. Breath that carried a strong aroma of alcoholic drinks.
-I see you have been indulging in alcohol since morning. – Now I was lying with my face in the pillow; it was not very pleasant to breathe in something like that, especially first thing in the morning, when my mood was lower than the floorboards.
-I call it taking a little shot for vigor.
-And I call it leave me alone and let me sleep!
But Alice would not relent and pestered me in every possible way, with each passing minute knocking the desire to sleep out of me more and more. I had already thought she would give up and leave, or say some unpleasant crude vulgarity, but none of that happened. There were only tedious pleas that if I kept sleeping I would never wake up at all, that later I would feel worse than after a hangover, that she would never speak to me again, that I was not human, that she was bored, that she wanted to walk with me, and that there was no reason to spend so much time in bed at all. So it was easier for me to surrender and agree to her persuasion. I dressed in the suit in which I had left Raisky (at Alice’s insistence) and went to the owner of our temporary home to inquire what he could offer for a bite to eat. Especially since my stomach had begun reminding me of itself and of the fact that it had already forgotten what food was.
The establishment remained empty, so Avner did not trouble himself much over food and could offer me only some strange bean soup, which fortunately turned out to be quite decent. Despite the almost complete lack of interest in the menu, the owner had taken good care of alcohol, which literally filled almost the entire establishment. According to him, by the end of the town holiday all these stocks might prove very useful to him and enrich him nicely for the whole year.
My companion decided to eat with me, only unlike me, who ordered plain orange juice, she preferred to choose a strong drink, which once again did not surprise me. At the table we discussed our plan of action for the day. We intended to walk around town, go change my clothes, try to study the sights, sample the local delicacies that, judging by the figures of all the ladies, simply had to exist in this town, and also learn more about the town festival over which everyone was bustling so joyfully. At the same time, I also hoped to learn why I was so drawn to the town hall building, but I did not want to share those thoughts with my companion.
Before leaving the establishment with the loud name, Alice went to the washroom to change clothes and “carefully hide” her money in secluded places, advising me to do the same, since she did not entirely trust Mr. Avner. Besides, money could always come in handy during a walk, so I did not object and put everything into the pocket of my jacket. By the way, Alice was now wearing a close-fitting blouse that hugged her arms to the elbows, jeans (at least she called those trousers that), and neat little shoes without heels that made her steps light and soundless. Apparently she wished to tease the residents of Flig in this way.
The walk through town quickly began to bear fruit, and I started feeling much better than I had when my tormentor was tearing me away from sleep. We wandered around town for a long time, looking for the clothing shop that would attract Alice’s attention. Her standards were very high, which was a little irritating. On the other hand, we got to study the town well and even used the passage through the town hall building so we would not have to walk around it. True, we still could not admire the inside of the building itself, because the inner part of the passage was closed off on all sides by doors, so we could not simply walk around and look. Of course, one could have risked trying to see what those doors concealed, but excessive modesty and upbringing stopped me from such an act. Besides, my companion was not especially concerned with this place, and so we simply passed through.
We questioned the local residents to find out where to go, and at the same time I asked in which part of town the festival we had heard so much about but had not yet visited was being held. It turned out that all the most fun things happened in the evenings, in the very heart of the town hall building, where their Elvira the Incomparable lived. One full-figured lady spent a very long time listing the positive qualities of the head of Flig and saying that we simply had to attend the festival and meet Elvira personally, and that this would be the best and most unforgettable event of our lives. This lady also volunteered to tell us where exactly we would find the shop we needed, and even if Aliska noticed nothing, I was ready to swear that this stranger was literally devouring me with a strange gaze that made me feel somewhat ill.
My friend and I headed to that very shop in the hope of satisfying her specific need to dress people up, while at the same time talking about pets. She told me that in different places she had encountered different tamed animals. Some were ordinary creatures familiar to me, such as cats, dogs, chickens, cows, and horses, but there were also all sorts of things incomprehensible to me: cheetahs, elephants, belbons, hamsters, toronkhs, alfords, and other strangely named creatures. I laughed and insisted that all these were made-up words, or names for creatures familiar to me, but Aliska swore that she herself had been terribly impressed by such strange beasts, and that she knew of the existence of some of them only by hearsay from an experienced traveler who swore he had roamed an enormous number of towns and seen things he never would have thought of in his life.
I probably would not have believed Aliska if one enormous lady had not passed by us, with a tiny creature running beside her. On the one hand, in appearance it somewhat resembled a dog, though its size in no way matched a proper dog. Moreover, the creature’s muzzle was flattened, and its little body was entirely overgrown with hair. I could have said that this creature barked at us, but it was more like a repulsive yapping that produced an unpleasant impression. Now I was ready to believe in an elephant, and in a toronkh, and in anyone at all, but I would prefer never again to encounter any of such monsters. Who knows what threat they pose? Perhaps only in our lands are animals kind, while everywhere else they are evil.
While I was recovering from the impression made by the strange creature whose name neither I nor Alice knew (she merely suggested it looked like a little dog), someone suddenly shoved me in the side, so that I almost fell and barely kept my balance. I had no time to react in any way before the person who had run into me, without even trying to apologize, abruptly rushed in the opposite direction from us, as if he were hurrying somewhere very urgently and it was a matter of life and death.
-Come here, you cowardly beast, and at least apologize to my friend! – Alice looked as if she was ready to tear this fellow to pieces. – Do you think you are more important than others just because you urgently need to get somewhere?
-Come now, do not get angry. I am not hurt, I did not even fall. So calm down and do not worry. Though urgent reasons do not excuse a lack of politeness, we ourselves should not lose face in such a situation.
-Oh, that shorty would have lost his face to me right now if he had not run so fast.
-You even remembered his height? I only noticed a figure rapidly receding into the distance.
-I remembered even his mug. Oh, if only I get my hands on him, I will show him!
-Stop. We do not need trouble with the locals. I do not think we will be as lucky here as in Wildwest. - Mother always taught me that it is better to steer around problems and do everything possible to avoid them.
-Some trouble, some big shot. As if we are worse than anyone else.
For the rest of the way my companion muttered all sorts of things under her breath about how she would show everyone here, how she would smash everything here, and how they would know better than to mess with her. If she continues in this spirit, I will part ways with her. I do not want to get into trouble because of her pathological craving for adventure. Mother and Father did not raise me for that. Although deep down, a small part of me agreed with her sense of justice.
Aliska perked up only when we arrived at a shop that truly satisfied her requirements, except that she considered the prices inflated. As it turned out, the shop was owned by Elvira herself, so in addition to locally sewn clothing, which repelled my companion and was sold everywhere, there were also items sewn to order in other towns.
My friend chose a T-shirt, jeans, and a jacket for me. The things turned out to be very comfortable, and most importantly, in the mirror I saw an entirely new person. The clothing created the impression that I was now capable of anything; perhaps this was exactly the effect my friend had been aiming for. Someone might have said I overestimated myself, but I think they would be wrong; my self-esteem is perfectly fine.
When the time came to pay for the outfit, I reached into the jacket pocket of my old suit, but I did not find them there. I searched absolutely every pocket of my clothes and realized that I had either forgotten the money or lost it, and that I would have to part with the new set. In the end Aliska had to pay, and she said I would owe her. But once we had already left the shop, the sweet and charming coquette rejoicing in her purchase turned into an enraged monster and began shouting at me.
-How could you forget your money? Do you have any brains at all? I told you to take it with you!
From the outside it looked as if a mother were scolding a child who had done something very naughty. And the problem was that I truly felt guilty before her and perceived her anger as justified.
-But I did not forget it. I remember exactly putting it in my jacket pocket; I even checked before we left. At least I think so.
-Sure, first you put it there, then it evaporated!
-That is about what happened. You guessed it!
-I did not guess... Damn pig! If I catch him, I will stuff dirt down his throat!
-Forgive me, I will pay you back. Just please stop shouting at me. And do not hit me.
-I am not shouting at you, though you are an idiot. I am just shouting. – Aliska’s tone became calmer, but she looked just as worried. – Is it really so hard to feel someone getting into your pocket? Well, congratulations, you have been cleaned out.
-Cleaned out? I do not quite understand what you mean.
-That you are a penniless idiot, that is what! I hope you had only a small sum on you; maybe it will not hurt as much.
When I answered that I had had a little over two thousand on me, Aliska’s eyes bulged and she began furiously yelling that the shorty would not get away with it so easily, that she would find him, beat him up, and do a lot of unpleasant things to him that I would prefer not to mention. When she finally calmed down, I still tried once more to clarify what the word “cleaned out” meant and how that fellow was connected to my losing the money.
Before her answer, I had tentatively believed that after the collision my property had fallen to the ground and, under the impression of the situation, we had not noticed. Although there were many inconsistencies in this version, it would have been much preferable to me. Earlier in life I would never have thought that someone could steal something from someone else. In our Raisky generosity flourishes, and so to obtain what one wants it is sometimes enough simply to ask kindly. Why commit something so terrible, leaving another person without a single coin? I would gladly have shared with that person if only he had turned to me for help.
Alice sadly patted me on the shoulder and said that I would never survive alone in this world, and also emphasized that now we had very little money and had either to find a way to earn some or find that thief and punish him.
These events made us forget about the festive festival and return to our temporary home in a foul mood, where, as it happened, another surprise awaited us, one we had not expected at all.
Avner looked upset and happy at the same time, which made him excessively strange. He clearly intended to tell us something and at the same time did not know how to choose his words. The owner tried to draw our attention to himself by almost every nonverbal means, and it worked: I did indeed stop to hear him out, while my enraged companion rushed without stopping to the room with the aim of taking a relaxing bath and forgetting this disappointing day.
-Well now, I do not know how to tell you. – Avner had only just found the strength to speak to me when suddenly Aliska’s scream rang out, as if she had seen a ghost.
-Thief! Robber! Stop the thief!
-In short, that is what I wanted to tell you. It seems a third unexpected traveler has appeared in town here.
A crash came from the room, and my friend continued screaming like a madwoman:
-Hey, stop, you bastard! Thought you would escape through the window, did you? I am going to kill you with this chair!
Avner and I ran to help the stranger, since the sounds were becoming more and more frightening, and Alice was screaming like a frenzied monster. The scene we found was very impressive. Aliska, quite large, especially from that angle, stood towering on the table with a chair in her hands over a short and slender fellow with golden hair (although he was not much shorter than I was, while his body was a little sturdier than mine), who was defending himself with an identical chair.
-If you break the furniture, you will pay for it. – Avner said this in such a calm tone that it created the impression this sort of commotion happened in his establishment every day.
-BUT HE IS A THIEF AND HE HAS TO BE CAUGHT AND HANDED OVER TO THE AUTHORITIES! – Alice said this so loudly and furiously that it seemed to me foam was about to come from her mouth.
-How can you be so shameless as to slander an honest citizen? – The stranger’s voice was at once gentle and soft and yet carried a certain masculinity, though it seemed to me somewhat high for a man. – I think it is perfectly obvious that it would be better to hand this rabid female over to the authorities.
-WHAT DID YOU SAY?!
-Now, young lady, please stop slandering my guest. He is no thief; he is my new lodger and, additionally, your neighbor.
This whole circus amused me, so I did not interfere and watched what would happen next. It was perfectly obvious that after such a performance the fellow probably would not want to live with us. And indeed I no longer wanted to live with Aliska either. Perhaps she really ought to be handed over for bad behavior; it would not be her first time sitting in a cell, and I could get to know this person better. Perhaps he could become a more adequate companion. At least it seemed to me that this person was decent and had simply frightened Alice with his unexpected presence in our room. I probably would have been frightened in her place too, but that was no reason to throw oneself at a person and try to beat him, even if the day had been ruined. But all my positive thoughts evaporated when my friend stated the fact that put everything into place.
-I am afraid you do not understand, Mr. Avner. – Aliska’s tone became more moderate, but she still radiated an aura of anger. – The thing is, today your highly respected clients were robbed, and this nasty dwarf is the one who did it!
I did not agree with the claim that this fellow was a dwarf; he was not so short as to humiliate him like that. But now memories that it was this very fellow who had shoved me began coming to mind (or perhaps it was false memory at work), and I became certain Alice was right. She may be abnormal, but I am not sure she would accuse the first person she met of theft.
-Well now, that is an unfounded accusation, madam. – Avner seemed to be speaking for the fellow, while he remained silent, staring intently at me.
-I think there has been a misunderstanding, and surely this lady has confused me with her short offender. From that angle I probably really do look like a little gnome to her, so in my opinion there is no need for the owner of the establishment to waste his working time on this. I swear we will settle our conflict and will not damage your property.
The fellow spoke very convincingly, although I could see perfectly well that Aliska did not believe him one bit, while Avner nodded happily, wished us not to quarrel and to try to accept one another as a given, because those who disagreed could leave but would not receive their payment back and would most likely have to leave Flig, since it was extremely unlikely that any of the townspeople would provide us with lodging. It was clear that the hint was directed precisely at Alice and me; probably for that reason she climbed down from the table and carefully set the chair down, though her face did not hide her anger. The owner wished all of us a pleasant time and promised to prepare a tasty reconciliation dinner, though by no means free of charge.

For a while after Avner's friendly retreat, an absolute silence hung in the room. The stranger was doing his best to hide his fear and to say something, but the aura of righteous wrath radiating from my companion made it impossible for him. I think if he'd uttered a single word, she would have torn him to pieces in an instant, so it fell to me to break the awkward silence, though I never expected to hear such words coming from myself:
-Are you sure this is HIM, today's thief? You're not mistaken? Because if so, I'll help you kill him and hide the body at night. You have to pay for your crimes.
-Oh yes, I have a good memory for men. I memorized that face the moment I saw it. And before we kill him, shall we beat him up good first?
It seemed to me that our words had a very strong effect on this fellow; a little more and he would probably have dropped to his knees and begged for mercy. Instead, however, he pulled himself together and chose to speak with us calmly:
-Well, there's been a bit of a mix-up. First off, allow me to introduce myself — I'm Artur. I arrived in Flig this morning, having heard that there are plenty of riches here. Oh, and I forgot to mention — by profession I'm a gem-seeker.
-Is that some veiled substitute for the word "thief"? – Aliska interrupted him with a dose of sarcasm.
-Well, if you prefer to twist words that way... In any case, when I saw a fellow in an expensive suit, the thought occurred to me that he must be one of the local nobility, which meant he'd have spare jewels that might help some poor wretch survive.
-But I was walking with a rather slender young lady, whereas absolutely all the local women are very sizable individuals. So something doesn't add up for you. – At my words Aliska blushed slightly; probably even a compliment like that is pleasant to hear.
-Well, there was actually a quite logical explanation for that too. I allowed myself the thought that a fellow as rich as that could afford a girl with a slimmer figure than the rest. By the way, the money that happened to fall into my hands during our absolutely unexpected collision — I became convinced it was a sufficient sum for a leisurely stroll by a wealthy gentleman. I'm sorry it turned out this way, and of course I'll return the money I accidentally found, especially since it's not in my rules to keep the treasures of fellow travelers like myself. What's more, as a token of reconciliation, I invite you to dine at my expense.
-Or maybe it's better to kill him and take all his money for ourselves? And we'll tell Mr. Avner that the new guest didn't like the town and decided to leave in a hurry.
And where does so much bloodthirstiness come from in this monster? The man had made it clear he was ashamed and ready to atone for his guilt. Naturally, I didn't agree with Aliska's proposal, which made her pout at me and say I was a fool who didn't understand people. She does love to be rude, though if anyone doesn't understand people, it's only her. I think in her whole life she's only been right about one person — me — and only because she happened to land such a good friend.
At first my companion flatly refused to leave the room and dine with us, but once I hinted to Artur at the key to that hussy's heart, she came flying over to join us for dinner, happily drinking to our new acquaintance. By the way, Artur kept her company in that unwholesome pursuit, and now the two of them were drinking together. At one point I even felt lonely, so I agreed to have a little wine myself, after which my head started spinning.
We spent the evening in lively discussions of all sorts of things; instead of the tense atmosphere that had threatened physical and mental violence, there was now a friendly one, as if all three of us were old friends. It turned out that our seemingly young comrade was twenty-seven years old — almost twenty-eight, in fact. Artur told us that he didn't really care for women and that they stressed him out a great deal because of certain circumstances, but right now even the company of a woman didn't bother him; he even let slip once that Alisa was man-like, which she in turn took as a compliment.
When Artur started boasting of his exploits and that he had the nimblest, stealthiest fingers in the world, Aliska responded by bragging that her body was so sensitive she could feel absolutely any touch to herself or to her belongings, and so if he tried to rob her, she'd catch him by the hand at once. By the way, she didn't hesitate to say exactly where she usually hid all her money, thereby embarrassing me greatly. I'd never heard of ladies who could hide money in their cleavage, and I hadn't even noticed any there when she paid for my clothes. In the end my drunken comrades decided to make a bet, since Artur promised he could easily pilfer money from even such a place unnoticed. Aliska wished him luck and said he could keep it all for himself if he managed to do it before we left town, and in case of his defeat he would have to pay her a sum equivalent to the contents of her purse. Naturally our new acquaintance agreed and suggested the braggart say goodbye to her money right now. I can't say I approved of their bet, but who's going to listen to me? The main thing was that my money had been returned to its place.
Aliska and I told Artur the story of how we'd met and how we'd gotten out of Wildwest, though about their mayor we slightly twisted things in favor of Beadle's version, since we'd given him our word, which we didn't forget. Besides, I told them both about how wonderfully life was in Raysky and didn't forget to speak of my Marinka. My new friend patted me sympathetically on the shoulder and replied that women couldn't be trusted and that I'd be better off forgetting about my beloved before she wounded my heart. Of course, he said all this out of ignorance about my companion; had they known each other, he'd never have spoken of her that way and might even have fallen in love with that charming creature himself.
We drank until late at night and would have been ready to keep going, had not a tired Avner sent us all off to bed, which we didn't really resist. We just took one more bottle of wine from him up to the room, and when we'd drained it, we crashed onto the big bed. It's amazing how that comfortable bed fits so many people!
We slept very comfortably, and most importantly, very long. In the morning, however, I ran into two problems: first, I had the second hangover of my life, and second, I discovered that Artur had left the room at some unknown time. Moreover, he'd done so with my purse, while Aliska's money had been left untouched. I felt very hurt; I'd trusted the man, you could say I'd opened my heart to him, believed in his redemption, and the very next day he stabbed me in the back like that.
My companion was no longer radiating the same fury as yesterday and said we should have gone with her version, in which Artur would already be buried somewhere behind the "BIG GLASS." We also began to realize that this fellow had never really planned to linger in town, or in this flophouse either, since he had no belongings with him at all; at the moment when Aliska first saw him in our room, he'd been rummaging specifically through my bag, but that detail got little attention because she was already concerned with completely different things. I felt hurt and deceived, while Aliska, after double-checking all her things, marveled at how he hadn't thought to dig through the contents of her bag and steal what was dear to her heart but which she'd accidentally forgotten to hide more securely. Probably he was in a great hurry to get away, and so took only the sure thing — my purse.
Over breakfast we didn't discuss what had happened with Avner; we only asked whether our Artur had left town, and after his answer we completely forgot about the existence of the establishment's owner. The fact that this fellow was still in Flig stirred in us a desire to draw up a plan for catching our thief. Of course I wasn't planning to take revenge on him or punish him in the way Aliska was rubbing her hands over; instead I intended to get my money back and, looking him in the eye, ask Artur why he'd done this to us. I couldn't fit into my head the thought that a person could become a close friend, a comrade, over one short evening, and then betray you like that.
We both understood that if Artur wanted to "feast on treasures," as he himself put it, then most likely he'd head to the town hall. Surely a building that served both an administrative function and as the mayor's residence must contain a great many luxury items. And considering that a festival was underway at Elvira's house right now, there couldn't be a better occasion to slip into the richest building in town. All this seemed quite logical to us, so we waited until evening, dressed up (I again favored the suit, and Aliska pulled a beautiful dress out of her wardrobe), and set off to get acquainted with Flig's culture and, at the same time, to catch the scoundrel.
I didn't want to start a ruckus at the festival and spoil the Flig residents' impressions. I figured we'd just meet Artur, talk to him, and settle all our problems peacefully. Although I strongly doubted whether my companion would let it go so easily or whether she'd put on a whole show. But I was reassured by the fact that Aliska hadn't been drinking, and when she's sober she behaves more or less decently.
Avner very much wanted us to attend the festival, but for the entire time of our stay he hadn't really reminded us of it, although it turned out that the second-to-last day of the celebration was already underway and everyone there was preparing for some very important event of the year. Everyone was excitedly discussing that Mrs. Elvira was supposed to introduce someone or other, and everyone was waiting to see who it would be. Also, several times one of the men joked about a wedding, "love till the grave," and about some praying mantises or other. Naturally, we caught only fragments of the surrounding conversations, so we perceived the information very distortedly and couldn't figure out who exactly they were all waiting for.
I don't know how strange this is to consider, but now that I found myself in the town hall I realized that my former pull somewhere had evaporated, as if someone had, for some reason, turned off that strange magnet. Perhaps it was due to my laziness, because despite my pull, I ended up here only out of the necessity to catch the scoundrel; otherwise I might never have made it to this place at all.
The town hall was impressively large, and so we spent an enormous amount of time before reaching the central part of the building along the huge corridor. I never suspected that the walls of this corridor could conceal a huge number of rooms hidden behind wide doors. I wonder, are all the corridors of this place arranged this way?
The central part of Elvira's house was also divided into a large number of rooms, but the passage to the very center was free. The core of the town hall turned out to be a huge banquet hall in which, most likely, the entire town had gathered. Along one side we noticed a large arch vaguely reminiscent of a wedding one. Oh, Marinka, why hadn't I proposed to you and, instead of a happy wedding, was wasting my time on some nonsense? But I digress; the main thing was that absolutely everyone kept their distance from this arch and from the door it towered over.
We searched the entire room full of people, along the way eating various snacks from the tables (Alisa also allowed herself a couple glasses of wine "for courage" a few times), but we did not find Artur. My companion marveled greatly at how this scoundrel could miss such a haul and even ventured that he was most likely "burgling houses" (I didn't quite understand that word) at the homes of those who'd gone to the celebration. I, somehow, by a miracle, intuitively began to understand everything. What if our friend Artur had nonetheless tried to break into the town hall and rob it, but had made his attempt in the morning or late at night, when he'd fled from us, with the aim of leaving town as quickly as possible? And what if he'd been caught and was now about to be brought here for judgment before the whole town? If so, he was done for; no one would spare a criminal.
I think I was partially right. Artur had indeed broken into Elvira's house and tried to rob her; naturally, he was caught (perhaps even by the mistress of the house herself). But this outcome — that as punishment he'd be officially presented as the fiancé of Mrs. Elvira — I most certainly did not expect in any way! Though it's probably best to try to tell it all in order.
At that moment, when Aliska was already thoroughly irritated and began to insist on leaving, some music played and a thin man began joyfully announcing near the arch:
-Mrs. Elvira the Magnificent in person, accompanied by her future husband!
The entire hall applauded, greeting an enormous woman — the doors were opened from both sides by men from the service staff — walking hand in hand with our thief, who looked like a toothpick against her backdrop. The sight was comical, but no one was laughing.
This lady produced a rather mixed impression. On the one hand, she was clearly well over fifty, was very tall (in my view, taller than absolutely everyone present), and her whole body had run to fat, which was visible even through her baggy smock. On the other, she looked very well-groomed; her face had very few wrinkles, her thick black hair was of incredible length and woven into a neat, broad braid, and her outfit looked wonderful on her, as though it were made of the most expensive and finest fabric in the whole world. She was strewn all over with jewels.
I can't say that Artur looked happy beside this lady; rather, he seemed zombified, because he simply walked beside her with a fairly empty gaze. Even when our eyes met, he didn't react in any way, as if seeing us for the first time, though perhaps the thief hadn't paid us any attention because he hadn't spotted us at that distance.
The guests joyfully congratulated the newlyweds as they stood under the arch. They had covered the minimal distance to it, but judging by Elvira's appearance, she'd already managed to tire out, since her face looked flushed and she could barely breathe. Perhaps it was from embarrassment at marrying a young, handsome, and tiny (compared to her) man, but personally it seemed to me the matter was one of difficulty moving around.
I didn't know how to react in this situation — to be happy for the newlyweds or to try to get my money back. Aliska, on the contrary, did not lose her head, and after a brief silence with her eyes fixed on a single point, she began to laugh loudly across the entire hall, because of which absolute silence fell in the building and everyone stared at the two of us.
-What a fool he is! Oh, he really delivers! – Alisa barely squeezed out of herself, after which she continued to howl with laughter, literally splitting her side.
I wanted to laugh myself, but unlike my companion, I understood that I had to keep myself in check and not disgrace myself, so I started bringing her back to a sense of reality, trying to remind her that we weren't at home and that here they could interpret her reaction any way they liked. Fortunately, my attempts to calm Aliska down were crowned with success and she began gradually to quiet down. I'd already begun to hope that everything would settle down and we'd avoid trouble, but my companion started to perform:
-All happiness and love to the newlyweds! Only it's not nice to take a bride without a dowry! And this fellow happens to owe our honest company a couple of thousand coins. And since there's such a celebration here, I think the bride could throw in a couple more so that the young family's life would be happy and free of troubles. We'll even promise to pray for the swift birth of the firstborn in this wonderful family, and maybe even come to congratulate them when this miracle occurs!
I think she was having a lot of fun and was waiting for a chance to run into trouble. And run into it she did! Mrs. Elvira flushed all over, her eyes began to bulge from their sockets, and her hands clenched into fists; her look became very fierce, and she began to command in a piglet-squeak of a voice:
-How dare you, you dirty scoundrel, show up in my house and demand MY money?! And accuse my beloved of owing you something! Someone, grab this trash already and execute this ugly creature for her insolence!
Strangely, as soon as Elvira turned into a horrible beast, I realized there was NOTHING attractive about her, although at first I had for some reason believed in that attractiveness. What's more, at the moment of her fierce squeals, Artur for the first time began to look around with interest and a sense of doom. When he looked into my eyes, it seemed to me he was begging for help.
Most likely everything would have ended badly and we might even have been killed. Aliska no longer looked so cheerful and lively; fear was rather readable on her face, most likely she, like me, believed in the seriousness of Mrs. Elvira's intentions. But like a lifebuoy, Avner leapt out of the crowd, who saved the situation and without whom our adventures would most likely have ended. Or maybe I'd have gotten off with just a few bruises.
-There you are, you rare drunkard! I've worn myself out looking for you! And you, blockhead, where were you looking? Your wife is dead drunk, and here you are messing around with her wherever.
-Well, I... – I felt awkward, as if I were being scolded for a childish prank, but I understood that Avner was trying to get us out of an awkward situation nicely. – She got so drunk that she threatened me — said if I didn't let her go to the celebration, she'd go anyway and raise a ruckus, so I got scared and followed her. – For credibility I spoke like a guilty boy who couldn't think of what to do in a difficult situation.
-Yyyes I'll shhow you aaall right now! – Alisa also joined the comedy and began to play-act a drunken state; true, she slightly overdid it, but the others found it convincing. – Am I aasking too much? Jusht to take a little walk and that'shh all.
-Mrs. Elvira, do be reasonable. A young family has come to a strange town for the first time, the girl encountered the absence of parental supervision for the first time and started drinking without drying out and having fun to the fullest. She met your fiancé at my establishment as well, and they argued about some nonsense and she apparently won, so in her state she got everything wrong. I know that you are a very wise woman, and I appeal to your memories of when you too were once a young and energetic person. Forgive her and don't order her punished; I even think that by morning she'll be ashamed and will crawl to you herself to beg for forgiveness.
Aliska pretended to ignore everyone around; she put her arm around my shoulder and started belting out some song in a feigned drunken voice. I don't know whether they believed the girl's act or not, but to me this behavior seemed unnatural. When she's genuinely drunk, she sings much better, and the words sound normal. And her speech is mostly articulate, correct. Problems are usually observed in the realm of behavior, but she can raise a ruckus even without drink — alcohol just stirs up her emotions even more.
-On behalf of my young wife and on my own, I offer every possible apology to Mrs. Elvira and the whole town for what happened here. Neither of us could possibly have anticipated that the drinks here were so strong and tasty that they'd wake an uncontrollable monster in my wife. It's a great pity that our family has so disgraced itself in your wonderful town, and I truly don't know how to atone for this shameful guilt.
Aliska, in parallel, sang and danced about, continuing to hug me, though from how tightly she gripped and squeezed my arm, it seemed to me she was indignant at my words, or perhaps that was how she was trying to express gratitude.
I thought we'd still be sentenced to some punishment for all this, but Elvira's face grew softer and she began to smile warmly; what's more, everyone around looked at me with a sympathetic and understanding gaze, as if absolutely everyone here had gotten drunk to the state of an abnormal creature at some point. The atmosphere in the hall was no longer so heated, and the huge ruler began to speak in a much more pleasant voice:
-Indeed, judging by the behavior, the girl, in honor of our celebration, has overdone it a bit. – She tried to giggle innocently, but it looked even sillier than Aliska's clowning. – Probably, for such a pleasant young man as you, it's not entirely easy with such a person.
-Not at all, my wife, when she's sober, is like an angel; you could see it for yourself if you give us a chance to apologize to you in other circumstances. – I lied shamelessly, but I had to get Aliska out of this situation by any means, and maybe get out of Flig with her as quickly as possible. To hell with that money; I figure it can still be earned somehow in another town, but here we clearly have nothing left to do. My companion gratefully hugged me, pressed herself against me, closed her eyes, and began to feign sleep on my shoulder, as if underscoring what a close and loving couple we were.
-I see how you defend her alongside my old friend Avner, and with what warmth you embrace each other. Probably no one would do anything of the sort for a bad person. In general, it's strange that a married couple arrived to us, and I find out about it at the last moment and under such circumstances. – Elvira looked indignantly at one of the men, who began to sheepishly avert his eyes. – Had I known about all this earlier, I'd have invited you to come look around my place on the very first day. But since things turned out as they did, and a celebration is underway that tomorrow will end with a lavish wedding, let's consider that your spouse was drinking to our unplanned acquaintance, to the town celebration, and to the upcoming wedding, all at once. You may also stay and come here tomorrow for the ceremony of my marriage to my little Artur, and as a gift it will be enough for you to come with a sober wife who'll show how she can really behave.
-Oh, I don't even know whether she'll be able to come to the wedding like this tomorrow, after what she's done. – Avner's voice and Avner himself trembled strongly, which alarmed me. – You understand what stress this will be for her, to come barging into a celebration right after such an awful stunt and demand to be loved and welcomed.
-Let her not worry, it will even be pleasant for me to get to know the other side of this person's personality. Guests don't come to us very often, and girls even less so. Who knows, perhaps the two of them will want to stay in our beautiful city of love and start living a happy life here!
City of love, seriously? I didn't get the sense that any kind of love or anything of the sort reigned here; rather, everyone here was somewhat abnormal. The women look like cows and probably eat about as much, the men walk around with submissive looks and do whatever they're told. I don't want to stay in this strange place; I'd rather leave soon and take this brainless, uncontrollable creature with me.
-In any case, I WANT this couple to be present at our wedding and to spend another night or two in our beautiful city. I simply won't allow them to leave here, and I'll consider it a disrespect if they don't come. And I really don't like it when someone shows disrespect. – The gracious Elvira now took on the look of a stern woman who was ready to insist on her way.
-Very well, we've understood everything, we'll consider it a great honor and we definitely accept your invitation. – I didn't want to agree, but I understood that my refusal could lead to more negative consequences. I was afraid that Aliska would start another performance, but she continued to feign a sleeping state. – But today, I'm afraid we'll have to end our wonderful conversation, because my wife isn't well and I'd prefer to put her to bed, and I hope Mr. Avner will help me with this.
-I suppose one of us will drag her by the arms and the other by the legs, my young friend!
-No dddon't! I'll be ssick. – Aliska lifted her head, hiccupped, and again began to feign sleep.
-If you wish, you may put your wife to bed and return to our celebration; we'll be only too glad to see you. – Elvira became gracious again, which didn't form in me the slightest desire to return.
I preferred to answer that I'd gladly consider this proposal, but that everything depended on the state of my "beloved" for returning home. Avner came up to Aliska from the other side and helped me drag her to his establishment. All the way we struggled, continuing to play our roles, though from time to time my companion helped us with her legs, but she did it not too often, so as not to arouse suspicion.
Once we were inside the establishment, Avner started telling us that we'd gotten out of there by a miracle and that we had to flee town immediately.
-Oh come on, since this fatso is asking so nicely, I'll come sober and smile at her like a good girl. I can restrain myself in situations like this; after all, an actress has always died inside me.
-I don't know how long she'd been dying in there, but today, when you started performing your drunken singing, she died in you once and for all. – My words slightly offended Aliska, and she hit me on the back; though it didn't hurt, it was still unpleasant.
-You really don't understand, if the two of you stay here, everything could end very badly — much worse than if you try to leave today. Besides, I have connections, I'll help you — not for free.
-I don't see anything terrible about going to look at this stupid wedding. We'll come, eat, quietly snicker at little Artur. I even promise to abstain from alcohol for such a momentous occasion.
-But there is something terrible...
Avner sighed and started telling us what we hadn't suspected at all about this town. First he told us about a very strange feature that everyone had written off as mystical. As long as Flig has existed, it has always had an enormous ruler. And it doesn't matter what sex the ruler is — the main thing is that every year they get bigger, and along with them all the people of their sex, while the people of the opposite sex must obey them unquestioningly. Such a "special" ruler always exists in a single copy, and if for some reason they die, a town council is organized, and everyone in town begins to wait for the next special ruler to appear to them. During the wait, the fat people manage to come back to normal, everyone starts treating each other as equals, and by and large life becomes much more pleasant, and everyone lives in harmony up to a certain time.
Then came the more interesting part of the story, which nearly turned Aliska's and my stomachs inside out. It turned out that all the residents live in harmony until the "festival of unity" (no one had called it that before, but it was obvious that this referred to the current festival), during which absolutely any young couple can get married in a single day, even if there's no question of any love, and having waited for the last day of this damned celebration, all the couples lock themselves in their houses and all night make love until, in one of the participants of this "festival of love," a beastly appetite awakens and they devour their spouse. At that moment, all the people of the same sex as the person who performed the ritual begin to feel a surge of strength and literally sense who will be their new chieftain.
And then something even more repulsive begins. After the person who performed the "unity" ritual receives the authority to rule, they move into the town hall and begin deciding what will happen to the town next, fully taking control of the people. At the same time, every year during the festival this leader must necessarily enter into a marital union with someone of the opposite sex (quite often at just such moments someone from another town miraculously arrives by some means; otherwise someone local was chosen at the ruler's discretion), and on the last day of the festival spend a night of love with them in order to conceive a child, after which they eat the victim alive — by which they and all the people of their sex will feel a surge of strength, energy, and, at the same time, everyone will collectively gain weight. Avner also noted that people with such features, for some reason, possess a certain hypnotic magnetism, and no matter how awful they look, people of the opposite sex are drawn to them with a pathological force (as long as that person has the need).
He also related that no matter how the local leaders tried to conceive a child, none of them ever succeeded. Or rather, there was one exception — once, under such conditions, a boy was born named Iskander, who was to become the next ruler after his father's death. And he did become it, and was a good, just leader. But no matter how long he held power, instead of arranging a bloody bath at the main town festival, he preferred to make everyone lead a healthy lifestyle, demanded they give up greasy and harmful food, called for an end to the brutal executions of travelers, and to live in prosperity and harmony. This fellow had hoped to begin a new era for Flig, but for some reason no one was inspired by his ideas, and after a couple of years under his "oppression," everyone unanimously decided to do away with him and return to the traditional way of things.
Avner also told us that when Elvira was young she'd been a skinny, gray, plain, and unwanted girl. When the mayor of Flig was a fat man (whose name I didn't remember — it was pronounced somehow strangely), not a single man looked at her, and she feared the fate of an old maid. But to her good fortune, that ruler turned out to have a very weak heart, which practically all the mayors of this town were famous for, so he died fairly young, and during this stupid festival she was able to find herself a fiancé, who turned out to be some foolish little man who dreamed only of power. Quite obviously, she ate him at a spicy moment, by which she took her post.
Our narrator also stressed that this lady had held power for a very long time, indeed for a sufficiently long period, since he had never heard of any of the rulers having such massive proportions. Moreover, unlike other mayors, this person had a habit of consuming, at any time of year, those people who for one reason or another disagreed with her or violated something. Because of her, the other women suffered greatly too, since because of her they grew thicker every year, while the men grew thinner and weaker. Very many had come to wish her death, but were too afraid to attack her, because besides her power she was characterized by great physical strength.
I began to understand that after tomorrow's wedding Artur was to become the next festive dinner for Elvira, who would first abuse him, but what Avner told me next provoked an even stronger negative reaction in me.
It turned out that originally the owner of the establishment where we were staying had figured that the next victim of the town's main slab of fat should be me, because no one had ever been stopped by the marital status of a victim who'd arrived from other parts. He also related that he himself had never wished death on anyone, but since once, due to a lack of visitors, his father had been eaten by Elvira, he feared that if no one came, or if he sent us packing, then he himself would become the next delicacy, since he was one of the few unattached locals. Of course, he could have found himself a wife among the unattached fat women, but he preferred an agonizing death to suffering daily in the company of an unattractive wife with a foul temper, and by such parameters, according to him, absolutely all representatives of the fair sex were characterized. So he carried on his father's business and gladly took in absolutely any traveler, if only by his sacrifice he might save the situation for one more year.
Avner said he'd been wildly glad when Artur arrived, since his appearance meant salvation for the married man — that is, for me. But he also figured that after such a boorish check-in we'd hurry to leave town and live happily, never suspecting anything. And perhaps he would have insisted on getting rid of us that very day, but his love for money, which was so hard for him to earn over the course of a year, made him cave and see what would happen next.
At the end of his tale, which had lasted a very long time, the establishment's owner added that if we didn't leave town before Artur was turned into food, then Aliska would quickly turn into a nasty shapeless cow, while I would begin to turn into a voiceless slave who would obey her fat majesty.
-This is all nonsense and self-suggestion! – Aliska flatly refused to accept information from a man who'd first been ready to hand me over to the clutches of death and then decided to save us. – As far as I can tell, you've got it all set up so: one half of the population eats like there's no tomorrow and fattens up like yeast, while the other half sits on an exhausting diet and eats absolutely nothing. As for the act of cannibalism, that's an unhealthy topic altogether; you'd do better to introduce a punishment for such a thing, but instead you hand out power.
-But Alisa, people don't say such things without cause; Avner did say that when Elvira eats someone, all the women feel it and are sated along with her.
-There's surely a rational explanation for that too! First, they know in advance that someone will be eaten, and second, the power of self-suggestion!
-I hasten to remind you that when someone comes to power, all the people of that sex feel the process, even though no one knows in advance who will become the next mayor.
-I think everyone's just pretending they "felt" something; it's simply that when morning comes and it turns out who was eaten by whom, everyone starts wailing according to a pre-prepared template.
With these words Aliska decided to end the discussion and said she'd go to bed, since it was already quite late. My companion quickly settled into bed and fell asleep, while I worried over Artur's fate. I sincerely didn't want him to die, especially in such a manner. I recalled how strangely I'd been drawn to this horrible woman's house, and how my recent offender had looked at me, his eyes seemingly begging me to save him from this nightmare. And he most likely doesn't know what's in store for him. Although, probably he knows in part, but I think he envisions the ending somewhat differently. Otherwise there'd be not a plea for help in his eyes, but wild terror. At least that's how it seems to me.
I lay awake a long time, thinking that I had to summon every possible effort and save Artur, who, though a criminal, still didn't deserve such a pitiful fate. It was frightening to imagine what a person feels when they're being eaten alive — after all, it's not a brief process where one opens his mouth and the other freely walks into his stomach. Surely it's all painful, agonizing, and very long. Because of these frightening thoughts it was hard for me to fall asleep, and when I finally did, I dreamed a dream in which a barely-covered Elvira started biting my hand in a futile attempt to bite off each of my fingers one by one.
Toward early morning I finally managed to sink into a deeper sleep, which, though it didn't last long, still managed to give me back a portion of my energy. When Aliska and I sat down to breakfast, I reminded her of our acquaintance, who was in a critical situation and had to be saved. Naturally I expected that this creature, full of enthusiasm and a thirst for adventure, would agree and say she had a ready-made rescue plan she'd been mulling over all night while pretending to be fast asleep, but instead I got a very firm no. She justified her answer by saying she'd see those crazies in her grave before she'd get involved with them, and that the little thief was getting what he deserved.
I spent a great deal of time and effort on a futile attempt to talk her into saving the poor fellow's life, but Alisa only replied that I was free to do what I wanted, and she couldn't care less about him, since this man was nobody to her. I couldn't accept her refusal, so I started raising my tone and practically demanding she help me take some action, but in response I was only sent packing.
Avner watched our conversation in silence for a long time, then sat down with us and said that saving Artur wouldn't work out any which way, and we'd be better off thinking about how to save ourselves from this town, and that now it wouldn't be so easy for us to leave with the help of his comrades, because everyone had refused to go against Elvira's demand, who was seriously intent on detaining us. Alisa only shrugged and said she'd ride it out fine — either in the room, or at the bar, or she'd drop in on the wedding and wish the newlyweds happiness and love.
It frankly infuriated me how the two of them were ignoring my impulse to save Artur, so in the end I swore at them and locked myself in the room, preparing to go to this damned wedding and disrupt it by every means. My plan was to sneak into the marriage ceremony, which was to take place at five o'clock, when darkness was just beginning to settle over the town, assess the situation, and first offer Artur to try to slip away under the cover of noise and quickly leave this place, or else openly demand that Elvira release my comrade, and at the same time insist that the town put an end to this whole circus of encouraging man-eating.
When I was fully prepared and had rehearsed in my head the persuasive discussion that might have to take place, I tried once more to appeal to Alisa's sense of justice; she'd spent all this time at a table in Avner's establishment. Naturally she'd been sitting over drinks, with Avner drinking along with her. And strangely enough, she still stuck to her position, so I only got wishes of good luck from her and from Avner, who likewise didn't believe in the effectiveness of my scheme.
Filled with righteous wrath, I made my way to this accursed wedding, with the aim of saving the foolish thief. I also decided for myself that after the rescue I'd take my money back from him, return Alisa her share for the suit, and never again have anything to do with this traitor who'd spat on another person's life.
The ceremony was to take place at the town hall, so I retraced yesterday's route to the same hall with the arch, under which the sacred event was most likely to occur. Among the guests was again the entire town; there was a whole mountain of gifts and snacks, which also didn't surprise me. For me the main thing was to find my comrade and try to save him, avoiding any unnecessary scuffles, which made me a bit tense.
I started quietly opening the doors of the rooms and peeking inside in search of the groom, and for a long time my attempts were unsuccessful. However, when I peeked into a windowless room across from the one with the arch, I finally found my comrade and tried to talk to him. He stared at me with empty eyes for a long time, until I started shaking him, slapping his cheeks, and reminding him who I was. My actions had an effect, and very soon Artur returned to his normal state, grabbed my hand, and started saying:
-Save me, Maksim! I don't want a wedding, I don't want to live with this fatso. She keeps saying I'm such a handsome fellow she'd eat me right up.
-I don't know how to tell you how true her words are. But you definitely won't have to live with her!
Artur didn't understand what I was trying to say, so I briefly told him what Elvira planned to do with him, leaving out the other details due to lack of time. He broke into a sweat and felt sick; he started shaking me and repeating that he didn't want this cow to eat him and begging me to save him. He also told me that he'd gotten here by his own foolish desire to grab some treasures and then immediately leave town, but he'd accidentally peeked into Elvira's bedroom, and she'd literally hypnotized him with her gaze, after which he'd started thinking slowly and was willing to do absolutely anything for this monster.
-We have to get away from her right now; I'm afraid I'll meet her gaze again and become faithful and obedient food.
-Then don't look her in the eye! But maybe we'll get lucky and manage to avoid running into her, if we can break through the crowd out into the street.
-I'm afraid that'll only work for you. If I walk out of here in the open like this, everyone will notice me at once and stop us. It's strange how you got in here at all, but you'd better leave before anyone finds out you talked to me and helped me come to, or else they'll eat us both. But now I'm ready, and I won't fall for her hypnosis again, so you go into the hall and cover me, and I'll make a run for it during the ceremony, or after it, if possible.
I couldn't explain to him that after the wedding he'd most likely be led straight to the marriage bed and would need a miracle to manage to run away in time, but he was right that we couldn't just run off like that in front of everyone. I left him alone in the room, continuing to watch the process and planning that I'd have to have a serious talk with the whole town.
A fair amount of time passed, during which I was very tense and counted how many times we could have fled this horrible place, but I also managed to grasp one thing that dashed my hopes of an easy escape. First, very many people, especially men, had begun to look around unpleasantly at me, as if they understood that I was up to something, or they'd seen me entering or leaving the room where the groom sat. Second, when the dressed-up Elvira headed for the groom, she bestowed upon me a look full of hatred. Yes, apparently everyone knew what I was planning. And yes, when Artur came out of his bedroom he again looked like a zombie, who now also kept talking about how he'd love his wife till the grave. I thought the marriage ceremony would begin right then, but I was wrong; the two of them came up to me and Elvira spoke:
-Something tells me I don't see your charming wife, who owes me an APOLOGY.
-Good evening, most esteemed bride; alas, my wife is very unwell after yesterday, so she expresses her sincere regret that she couldn't come here today. She's currently under the supervision of Mr. Avner, who promised that if she feels better, he'll bring her and she'll have a word with you.
-But it seemed to me we agreed that she would COME.
-I'm sorry...
A strong tension stood in the hall, which made me feel ill. Now I had absolutely no support, since my two potential lifebuoys were sitting and drinking at the bar, and the reason for my presence in the damned town hall was zombified again and now loved his bride even more, since instead of the former empty expression there was a loving and warm gaze directed at Elvira. I thought they were about to do me in right then and there and I wouldn't even be able to try to convince the town of anything, but the mayor of Flig apparently had some other plan.
-Fine, I'll deal with the two of you later. No sense spoiling my festive pre-wedding mood with some nonsense.
-Yes, my love. You're absolutely right! Forget about those nobodies. I can't wait until we become the closest people in the whole wide world. – I nearly threw up at these cloying speeches, which were so unnatural that even Elvira herself didn't express pleasure at what was said.
Everyone present in the hall parted to either side, giving the future spouses passage to the arch. I realized that if I didn't try to act, it would be the end of Artur, and maybe after him they'd come for me too. So I had to switch on my inner oratorical abilities — which, of course, I mastered perfectly — and start saying that this woman was usurping power, making unfortunate people suffer, that the tradition of cannibalism had to be stopped, and that they were all inadequate for allowing such a thing. Naturally, I was as tactful as possible, and when Elvira started boiling over, Artur came to, stood next to me, and began offering the same convincing theses as I did.
I don't know why, but my fiery speech, accompanied by Artur's arguments, had the opposite effect of what was expected. Instead of supporting us, everyone looked at us like future hanged men, or maybe like two very tasty meals for their mayor. By the way, the veins on Elvira were boiling with rage, and she started squealing in a piglet voice about how no one had ever dared to contradict her, that she was the queen of the world and decided everything, that I had imagined far too much about myself, and something else. Everyone echoed and nodded at her words, so it was obvious that the two of us were done for. But then happened what absolutely no one could have predicted.
Aliska came flying into the hall and walked quickly toward Elvira, saying loudly:
-Here are my apologies, you fat pig! – At that moment I saw in her hand some incomprehensible object that she held by a handle. She pressed some sort of trigger, and a loud crack sounded, and something small and unnoticeable instantly flew out of a hole in this object, flew over Elvira's head, and shattered a window. – Damn it, I missed. How's that. Hold on, you'll get a second time. – Aliska repeated the actions with her object, but was also unhappy with the result. I didn't understand what was happening and what my companion was trying to do, but I was definitely glad to see her.
-Give it here, that's not how you do it, you drunken blockhead! – I hadn't even noticed how Avner had come up from behind her; he'd probably been following her. He snatched the thing from her hand and aimed it at Elvira. The third crack in a row sounded, and now I saw blood flowing from the mayor's chest and saw how this lady looked at us with an uncomprehending gaze. Then came the fourth, and now this little thing hit her in the head, and the woman who'd lived her entire life as a cannibal dropped dead.
I stood rooted to the spot for a long time, processing the information my brain had just received. Now the thought flashed through my head that I would never return to Raysky now. It didn't take much thinking to understand that these two had become killers. On the one hand, by this act they'd saved Artur's and my lives; on the other, they'd tarnished their reputation, becoming no better than this horrible woman. I'd have sooner understood it if everyone around who'd objected to my fiery speech had at that moment turned on Aliska and Avner and torn them to pieces. Instead, everyone started rejoicing, hugging, and howling that the century of tyranny was over.
Everything that happened next was like in a fog. Everyone around first drank and made merry at the town hall; I remember passing glasses of something strong, but I didn't understand what I was doing or why — I just drank, that's all. Avner handed Aliska over to me; she hung on my shoulder with one arm and claimed she was about to throw up. However, as soon as Artur, in order to win the bet, tried to stealthily reach for her cleavage, the girl sharply raised her free hand, striking the unlucky thief's palms and head at the same time.
-I'll dddie, but I won't let you rob me!
Then, when all the food and drink at the town hall ran out, a huge crowd along with me moved over to the "BIG GLASS," and there everyone continued drinking and making merry. I kept catching, in fragments, various conversations, such as Avner's boasting about how, having heard that Aliska had a pistol (so that's what that strange thing was called), he was inspired that since today was a special mood, why not cleanse the town of its filth. Also memorable were the words of the joyous women, who howled that they'd finally lose weight and that soon they'd be able to wear beautiful outfits. Artur constantly, with joy and great warmth, embraced all his saviors and spoke of some strange traditions of his town, by which he was now obliged to do a favor each for me and Aliska, and that he wouldn't leave us alone until he'd worked off his debt to us. By the way, he also returned my purse to me when I was half-asleep.
Gradually, in my drunken delirium, the depression began to leave me, especially after Alisa warmly hugged me and said that no one had seen another way out, and that her and Avner's act was equivalent to as if a criminal had been executed back in Raysky. Ah, there'd be no such horrible people-eating monsters in Raysky. And the people there aren't as hypocritical as in this damned Flig. Even in Wildwest everyone was better. Drunk, I went up to Alisa and Artur and proposed heading further on our way and forgetting about this damned place, first adding that if they didn't come with me right now, I'd leave them here alone. The two of them shrugged, and Aliska was even inspired by the refreshing walk, so we gathered our things and set off on foot, not knowing where, having quickly said goodbye only to Avner, who most likely never even understood that we'd decided to leave their damned city of love, unity, and other nonsense that contradicted their way of life.

I should have saved it for the next contest, otherwise I might not have any inspiration later.

3. A Traveler's Inspiration
It's only fair to note that once again I didn't notice how I was getting to the next city. It wasn't clear where, how long, or how we were walking. All I remember is how, by early morning — while everyone should still have been asleep — we reached some town where there was no border of any kind and no one met us except the cold rain. The whole way, Alisa and Arthur were talking animatedly: now they'd be yelling about being best friends forever, now quarreling and ready to tear each other apart, now doing something else. She spent a long time wringing the promised money out of him, which she then joyfully recounted several times.
I didn't take part in their heated discussions, since I was still feeling unwell. On one hand, I saw what we'd done as a positive thing, since we had saved one — or perhaps more — innocent life. On the other, given that no one was going to change their attitude toward the system, we had simply removed one bloodthirsty ruler who would be replaced by another. And that made me sad, and our actions still seemed wrong to me.
Aliska and Arthur didn't quite understand what was wrong with me, and tried in every way, unsuccessfully, to cheer me up. And while I was mentally agonizing, my companions took care of finding lodgings for the night. In the end we slipped into some empty but well-kept house that didn't look abandoned at all, but none of us cared in the slightest. By that point I was feeling hunger, exhaustion, and an unwillingness to do anything all at once, and I think they were experiencing something similar.
There were several rooms in the house, so everyone settled wherever they wanted, and we all passed out until noon. We might have been glad to sleep longer, but from all sides we could hear music. A whole crowd was singing out in the street, which nearly made me fall out of bed. Then Aliska's shouts started drifting in, which forced me to finally end my sleep and see what was going on.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, OR I'LL SHOOT YOU DOWN LIKE DUCKS!" — my companion was expressing her indignation this way to the people who were dancing right outside the window. As far as I could tell, they were completely indifferent to her threats, because they didn't even pay attention to her and kept on with what they were doing.
"Who are you kidding? Even if they all stood stock-still, you'd only waste your shots for nothing, and then you'd be screaming that they moved too fast." — A dressed Arthur with a fairly cheerful look came into the room, which reminded me that Aliska was in the room in nothing but her underwear, and I myself was stripped down to my shorts, which made me feel deeply embarrassed. I demonstratively turned away, covered the most important spot, and walked quickly to get my clothes.
"Right now you stand still yourself and I'll hone my aim on you," Aliska hissed through her teeth, but I still managed to hear it before leaving.
"Pray tell, young lady, where would be best for me to stand?"
Those two started arguing, but I had already left and so I didn't hear what was going on. Not that it interested me — I wasn't even worried if they really did kill each other. Strange only that the undressed Aliska hadn't yet, with shouts, thrown Arthur out of her temporary room. What a shameless girl.
The singing and dancing in the courtyard, though, genuinely intrigued me. I couldn't make out what they were singing out in the street, but the melody itself was resonant. I was very curious to find out just what kind of performances were taking place in this town. And what kind of place it was.
Although I still felt awkward in the company of my companions, I decided nonetheless to continue traveling with them, to try to set these two on a better path, and at the same time to steer them toward the righteous way. So I waited for them to calm down, and together we all went to explore the new town — and at the same time to look for somewhere we could eat.
We tried for a long time to strike up a conversation with any of the citizens, but nothing worked — everyone just sang, made merry, and carefully ignored us. It was hard for me to tell whether that was good or bad, since such concentration on their work only made the residents' performances better. All around us were genuine musicals. Curiously, on every street they performed a completely different repertoire. And their costumes were all varied, but the style within each performance was mostly consistent. In one place people merrily sang of love, guys lifted girls in their arms, dropped to one knee, kissed the ladies' hands, and the girls sighed and sang of their tender feelings, pressing themselves languidly against their cavaliers. In another place people sang of hatred for one another and in dance mimicked a fight, without causing any physical pain but displaying splendid agility and flexibility that beautifully depicted a battle. On yet another street we came across a sad performance accompanied by the funeral of some young guy. There were many more different songs and dances dedicated to whatever entered the citizens' heads — for many it all went by the principle of "I sing what I see." On the other hand, no matter the theme, the main thing was that everyone's performances were wonderful.
The only confusing thing was that none of us could find the source of the music. Yes, in individual moments we saw this or that musical instrument in the performers' hands, but mostly the music came from somewhere outside. And another surprising fact was that nowhere did any cacophony arise, as if each performance were enclosed in some invisible dome that protected against the noise coming from other musicians.
Besides the music, which in a very short time had managed to get on our nerves fairly quickly, the town was distinguished by rather varied architecture. In one place there were huge panel apartment blocks where you could house a whole crowd and from which live music also emanated; in another stood something resembling a shack; somewhere you'd come across tidy cottages; but most of the town was made up of unique buildings that differed too greatly from one another. A small castle and a mansion of metal bars could stand side by side; there was also an absolutely black house "decorated" with all kinds of slime, dirt, cobwebs, and paint stains that they passed off as blood (at least I very much hope it's just realistic paint), and part of the boards were rotten and falling off the house, and yet it still looked lived-in. There was also a house built upside down (I don't know how it held up, but everything looked as if it were built to last). I think the unique buildings could be listed forever, which is probably further proof of the creativity of the residents of this interesting town.
Finally we spotted a sign reading "Inspiring Food" and realized we'd at last stumbled upon a public eatery. Such a promising name led me to think that we'd finally be in a real restaurant, and not some mediocre or lousy dive where the main dish was alcohol.
That day I learned one important thing: you have to stop believing advertising signs and reviews. In reality, this establishment turned out to be worse inside than those I'd had occasion to visit in Wildvest and Flige (not to mention my magnificent Raissky, where there could be no question of any den of vice whatsoever). Instead of the expected luxurious interior, we beheld dirt, half-ruined wooden tables and chairs with crooked legs, as if they'd been thrown onto a dump and then given a second or even third life. The room was very gloomy; lamps appeared only on a few tables, so it was hard to make out what was going on in the place. The patrons I managed to make out were somehow strange — some, in an incomprehensible state, stared into emptiness, while others, on the contrary, were actively discussing, planning, drawing, and writing something.
We took the most decent table with relatively sturdy chairs and began to wait for a waiter, who noticed us almost immediately and came over to us after delivering some flowers to one of his clients. This long-haired guy turned out to be fairly well-built and possibly even attractive, because Aliska couldn't tear her enchanted gaze away from him for a very long time. I, by the way, only now reflected that for a night in a new town this girl had done nothing with her appearance. Probably the pull of sleep was stronger than the desire to transform herself.
Although my travel experience isn't very great, it came as quite a surprise to me that the waiter didn't recognize the three of us as outsiders. He reacted so strangely to questions about what kind of town this was, why everyone here sang, where such incomprehensible architecture came from, and so on. The guy first thought for a long time, then gradually began telling us about this town and giving us advice on what we needed to do to feel at home here.
This town was nicknamed Muzas, and it is a whole focal point of creativity, where every person is able to unlock their abilities and create something magnificent. People here are divided into several types: those who sing and dance, those who draw and build, those who write. Each person here has mainly one inclination, more rarely two, but only one person (or perhaps more, but some simply don't unfold) is able to unite within themselves the abilities for all these activities — and it is precisely that person who becomes the mayor, in order to help people unfold to the maximum.
At present, a fairly young and — as the waiter noted — creative girl runs everything here: Nateya Ilifin. She sings beautifully, writes songs and poems, paints stunning pictures, designs chic houses (and sometimes issues orders to tear down old buildings, in order to help young talents develop). On one hand, very many residents of the town are satisfied with her rule, especially those who love to draw and plan new original buildings. On the other hand, the rest of the people — those who love to sing, dance, and also write poems, epics, and stories — feel not very comfortable, since instead of doing what they love, they have to engage in construction, because according to the mayor, artists have a very delicate nature, and so they can't be bothered with construction — they have to do all the planning and calculating.
Before the waiter — whose name, unfortunately, we never learned — continued his story about the town, we all decided to order food and juices, since we felt a fairly strong hunger. We all chose different dishes from the meat of some dubious animals. But since everything came out beautifully and deliciously, justifying the establishment's name, we had nothing to complain about, and when everything was brought we pounced on the food with pleasure. I had a baked furaz with vegetables (no idea what that is, but according to the waiter it's a very tasty bird from some neighboring town). Aliska had a salad with the same meat as mine. And Arthur was brought a stew of glomot, also brought from some other town. The guy claimed he'd already encountered this animal, and so didn't want to risk it and chose something familiar to him.
While we dined, the waiter continued telling us that Muzas is always very glad to receive guests, and so anyone who wishes can be introduced to various sources of inspiration that can acquaint the visitor with the culture of this town as closely as possible. Moreover, the first impression is always provided free of charge.
Altogether there are three such sources in the town, and all of them, if you believe the waiter, are not only harmless but even beneficial to the body. The first is orange furan grass, which is stuffed into some device and smoked, after which a person begins to see various interesting images. Very often after such visions a person can paint an entire work of art. I wasn't attracted by the fact that it had to be smoked, and thanks to my edifying conversations with Alisa I understood that smoking is bad and harmful. This girl, by the way, also refused this grass, since she can't draw and hates it. But Arthur was pleasantly surprised and said that smoking grass was great, especially if they promised him a benefit.
The second source of inspiration turned out to be tsuntuk — a pretty flower possessing shining (no really, you could say they glowed in the dark of the room) blue petals. By inhaling its fragrances, a person feels an inner lightness and is drawn to sing beautifully and dance. Naturally, such a description and presentation inspired both Alisa and me, but I got scared that I would look as foolish as those strange guys on the street, and so I changed my mind and listened to what else they could offer me.
The third source turned out to be an emerald infusion made from a combination of these two gifts of nature. It awakens literary talents in a person, and he turns all the thoughts that come into his head into delightful text. This liquid aroused my suspicion, since I again remembered alcohol and the consequences it could lead to. But the waiter didn't understand the meaning of the word "spirit," and so he swore that this delightful drink in no way had anything to do with anything bearing such a disgusting, uninspiring name, but rather, on the contrary, possessed healing properties for the body. And given the pleasant sweet taste sensations that I experienced from the first sip, I was ready to believe his words, and so I began greedily drinking this infusion. We are always glad for something beneficial.
At first none of us felt any effect, and so my companions called it a botch job. To be honest, I myself was a bit hurt, since I had hoped to be inspired to tell in my diary about the trip to Flige, about which I had a lot built up.
Arthur got bored and asked the waiter for a few sheets and a pencil to draw something, while smoking at the same time. Aliska, with a sad look, hummed some melody, from time to time sniffing the flower. I moved off to a separate table and started writing about Flige — moreover, I intended to write down exclusively bad things.
While I was thinking about what words I should use to characterize my impressions, a very pretty blonde with sky-blue eyes sat down beside me. The girl began peering at my notes, which I immediately covered, since I didn't want some stranger reading them just like that. I felt a bit awkward in front of her and thought that my actions might have offended her, but she only smiled and then began to move her lips. And I was ready to swear that her words reached not my ears, but exclusively my mind.
"It seems to me you should speak not only about the bad moments. Try telling everything as it is, and I will help you with that. I'm sure you yourself will like it better that way."
And she began to tell me, in sequence, everything about our trip, as if she herself had been nearby the whole time. At first I sat with my mouth open, taking in her words, but after her remark that I was wasting time for nothing, I lowered my eyes to the notebook and began to reproduce her monologue in the notebook almost verbatim. But from time to time I took a break, listening to her joking comments about this or that occasion; I didn't consider all of them appropriate, and the girl herself wasn't demanding about my scribbling.
The blonde finished speaking when her narrative reached the moment of our arrival in this town. I lifted my head from the notebook, but beside me was empty. Whether it was a hallucination, a real muse, or a girl who had secretly been watching me, remained a mystery. But I still wanted to believe that this lady had come to me to bestow inspiration.
I folded my notebook and returned to the table, where Arthur was finishing drawing something. My attempts to find out what he had drawn ended in failure. The fellow merely rolled up his creation and put it away, so that no one else could see it.
"And what did you scare off that amusing lady for? She could have told and shown me so many more interesting things, and now..."
It dawned on me at once that Arthur had seen the girl, who most likely was visible only to him. It became obvious, of course, that the thief, along with me, had sensed the presence of someone special who had helped him materialize his thoughts. I told him about the wonderful blonde; he in return told me about a petite redhead who had told him something sensible and demanded that he sketch everything in detail. The guy was convinced she was as real as the rest of us, but now understood it had only been a vision. An inspiring, charming vision.
We chatted for a long time on various topics, including asking the waiter — who had cleared all our sources of inspiration from the table — where we could stay for the night. He described several abandoned buildings slated for demolition, listing among them the very one we had just slept in. How nice that we hadn't done anything illegal and were saving on lodging to boot.
It was already getting on toward evening, so we asked to be brought the bill for the services provided, and only then did Arthur and I realize someone was missing. Someone very noisy, nasty, a bit irritating — and, most importantly, solvent. We did have enough coins to pay, of course, but without Alisa — who, by the way, had left her things with us — something felt off.
Only the waiter was able to shed light on this, saying that while the two of us were busy with our own affairs, the girl had sniffed the flower and attempted to sing something. But since creating distracting noise in "Inspiring Food" was forbidden, the girl was immediately asked to leave the establishment until her inspiration had run its course. I would sooner have believed a half-ruined room and Alisa belting out a song before my eyes than her calmly leaving the establishment. But the facts were plain to see, and so we had to gather all our things and set out in search of our crazy companion.
The decision to try our luck and risk heading toward our temporary lodging turned out to be a good one. Not far from there, our incomparable singer was performing in the company of people. Everyone was making merry and dancing, cheerful music was playing, and our Aliska was belting it out at the top of her lungs before the crowd. And she was doing it, it must be admitted, much better than when she had pretended to be drunk in Flige.
You'd expect from this particular person some kind of bawdy lyrics about drinking, brawling, debauchery, and so on, but she was singing a light, cheerful song about love. Arthur and I decided not to distract her from her engrossing activity. I was completely charmed by her voice, her singing, and how beautifully the people around her danced (she herself moved much less, perhaps because she lacked such grace). And my companion said he'd step away for a bit but would be back soon.
When Alisa finished the love song, the cheerful light melody was replaced by a slow, sad one. Now the girl launched into a sad song about the fate of an unhappy girl whom life had forced to sell her body. From the lyrics I immediately understood that the song was about herself. If she hadn't distorted anything, and I understood everything correctly, then poverty combined with a pleasure in the process had pushed the girl onto such a path. And although she had always dreamed of love, attempts to give love to those she genuinely liked ended in the death of her beloveds, which landed the maiden behind bars. And then she launched into yet another song that literally continued this one. Now it was about a handsome young policeman who had become both her best friend and her beloved. In this song she sang with a smile that, even though her beloved had married another, she would always keep warm thoughts of him in her heart. On the last verse our companion even shed a tear, which made me uncomfortable, although it was precisely this text that touched me more than the others. It all looked so very sincere. But there she ended, and upset, she hurried in my direction, though she passed right by me, clearly without noticing.
"That was a wonderful song. I'm sorry if the person in the song really broke your heart."
"If I told you that during my confinement that type plied me with alcohol, brought tasty dishes to my cell, and taught me to shoot from the very pistol that, by the way, he then gave me as a gift, you probably wouldn't talk like that."
"So he taught you everything bad?"
"No, I coped with that task successfully on my own. If anything, I was the one teaching him bad things. But with the weapon — yes, he helped, in gratitude for my assistance with his beloved."
In her song Aliska hadn't mentioned that she herself had helped her beloved fall into the hands of her rival, and so I didn't hesitate to ask. It turned out that in reality the convict had initially befriended her warden by virtue of the fact that her excessive passion had ruined his chief rival for the heart of his beloved. The policeman wanted to be friends with Alisa and took her advice as friendly. She, in turn, overcame her own sincere feelings and helped the guy become happier, and so gave genuinely sound love advice that was able to help him. This guy still occupies a huge place in our companion's heart, but now she swears she feels only warm and friendly feelings toward him and his chosen one. She even came to their wedding, which took place shortly before her trip to Wildvest.
And yet, it was visible that Aliska was very sad, so I decided to offer friendly support, hugging her and pressing her close so that the dancing and singing crowd, which continued its merrymaking without her, wouldn't suspect anything. We stood like that for several minutes until happy Arthur came up to us, whose appearance wiped all the sadness from our companion's face.
"What a wonderful and profitable repertoire! Alisa, if your performances cause the same furor everywhere, we'll get rich!"
"What are you talking about, she sang absolutely for free?"
"Better you don't know, or you'll be completely disappointed in this gnome. By the way, where's my share for keeping quiet and unwittingly helping?"
Arthur, with a displeased look, gave the extortionist a few coins — taking into account the amount spent on her behalf in "Inspiring Food" — after which she, satisfied, walked ahead, while I remained somewhat bewildered. What profit was being discussed, and why was it better for me not to know?
I started pumping them for information that I really shouldn't have heard. While I stood and enjoyed the singing of our artist, the insolent thief had picked the pockets of a few onlookers. Arthur's deed deserved condemnation, and I meant to say so, but I wasn't given the chance. Instead, the guy decided to change the subject, which was fairly surprising to me.
"I've heard a lot in different towns about the exploits of Alisa Bonier of Listvenny, who made both her own town and her own name famous with her pranks, but I'd never have thought I'd get to see with my own eyes a person capable of killing with a single night of love. Ah, but you wouldn't tell from your looks that you come from that amazing little town of charming people."
"Oh, come on, one night was never enough for me." — The girl was all flushed, but I got the firm impression that these words sounded to her like a compliment. — "If fictitious fame didn't so precede me, I'd have gotten married long ago and lived quietly."
"Alisa, you're from Listvenny?" — I was practically untroubled by this girl's fame; I considered only the name of the town I was planning to travel to important.
"Those dead guys and live clients composing tales of your joint adventures — are they fictitious too?" — Arthur, as if ignoring my words, kept pressing our companion.
"What happened with those young men was an accident — don't blame me for the weaklings. The fame of the adventures is also exaggerated, everything was gray and uninteresting; most of them can't even be called little outings. And yes, Maksim, I'm from Listvenny."
As we walked toward our temporary lodgings, Arthur kept mocking Alisa, telling of his acquaintances with males of various ages who prided themselves on the time spent with the wanton. At the same time, I was thinking about asking her about my uncle. On one hand, they might well have been acquainted; on the other, I'd feel uncomfortable if my relative ended up on the list of this madwoman's past glory.
"Ugh, on you — aren't you ashamed to mock a girl? Maybe it's hurtful for me to hear filth about myself?" — A pouting Aliska demonstratively picked up her pace, far outpacing the two of us.
"I'm simply proud that I got to meet a celebrity! I hope you're not planning to make corpses out of Maksim and me? We're not as sturdy as that proud old grandpa from Vonch, and burying us will be a real chore."
It was unclear to me what old man he could be talking about, and so I attached no significance to the thief's words. But Alisa stopped, sharply turned around, and tried to slug the teaser in the face, though Arthur deftly dodged the blow.
"Why waste precious strength on a wretched shorty. I can arrange a quick death for you without that — luckily I have a pistol for it."
"That's no fun — with such a poor shot as you, the whole supply will go to waste."
"Stop quarreling, both of you!" — We were already not far from the temporary housing, and I didn't want them, on account of this quarrel, to go off in different directions, leaving me to choose one of them. Especially not when I was preoccupied with the question connected to the thrill-seeker's hometown. — "Arthur, you're behaving in a manner unworthy of a gentleman. Alisa, stop clowning around and accept the reputation you've earned as it is. And while you're at it, better tell me about Listvenny."
"What is there to tell you about it? A town like any town, there are plenty like it around."
"And you, miss, aren't you ashamed to deceive a naive fellow? Perhaps he wants to hear about the luxurious ladies with serpents' hearts that overrun the place." — Arthur was probably well acquainted with this place, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing about the fair half of Listvenny's contingent.
"If I wanted to hear about puffed-up women, I'd have asked about them right away," Aliska snorted with disgust.
"No need about the girls — I have Marina. But about the town itself I would like to hear. You see, Aliska, my uncle is supposed to be living there right now, and I actually want to visit him first and foremost. And besides, I'm curious — maybe you happened to meet him."
"From what seems a decent family, and even you have a relative who messes around with prostitutes!" — We were just entering the abandoned house, and the girl patted me sympathetically on the shoulder, which I perceived as humiliation. — "Many travelers have visited Listvenny in order to get better acquainted with the famous 'goddesses.' Only I remind you that I left that disgraceful little town back at the age of sixteen, and so it's unlikely I can know him."
I had nothing to say to Alisa, since the accusations against my uncle were offensive to me. On one hand, my father could have gotten the name of the town wrong, since I didn't want to believe that his brother was married to a woman who sold her body. On the other hand, I had never in my life met this man, and so it's hard to draw conclusions about him. In the end I tried my luck and told my companion the little that I knew about Uncle Filipp, including naming his name.
In response I expected to encounter either another portion of humiliation or words to the effect that my uncle was someone Alisa didn't know at all. However, instead, my companion joyfully embraced me and began to shriek:
"Why did you keep quiet all this time and tell me nothing about having such cool relatives? Why, you'll be like a brother to me now!"
A brief silence followed, during which Aliska pressed me tightly to herself, so that I gradually began to suffocate, while Arthur and I maintained a steady incomprehension of the situation. The girl released me from her tenacious hands only when I started barely getting the words out that I was choking. And only then did she begin to clarify the situation.
Alisa told us about my uncle, who many years ago had married her foster mother Violetta. He had traveled the world for many years, but even so, my relative had still not managed to travel around the entire world. In many towns Filipp Sinsky is a well-known figure, and I turned out to be a simple fool who hadn't even once thought to ask about him anywhere.
At first I suspected my uncle of an association with a vulgar woman, but the storyteller swore that this Violetta of hers was practically a saint, and one of the few in Listvenny who would never have allowed herself to be smeared by all and sundry. That gave me hope, but most important for me was to hear pleasant accounts of my relative. Aliska saw him as an interesting, intelligent, brave, and self-assured man who was good at absolutely everything. At the same time, she stressed that I was rather the opposite of my uncle, and the only thing that might unite us was unconventional thinking. Still, that's not bad either — it's nice when your uniqueness is acknowledged.
For some time we continued to converse on the subject of Uncle Filipp, since Arthur too had something to tell us from the gossip he had heard in other towns. It was amusing to listen to stories about this interesting person, since from my father I had learned absolutely nothing. For example, when he was out of money, he often got involved in various merry escapades that, though not always lawful, turned out either very successfully and left a positive mark on his reputation, or not so successfully, which left funny memories of him. By the way, he had a huge number of stormy romances, and in some places he gained fame as a ladies' man; however, his acquaintance with the beautiful Violetta radically changed his life, thanks to which he renounced a life full of adventures in favor of a peaceful and quiet existence.
Then we talked about our visions in the "food," and it came as a sudden revelation to me that, instead of a luxurious beauty, Aliska had seen the ideal man for herself, with whom she could have bound up her entire life, if only he had been real. This in turn inspired Arthur to once again remind the girl of her past.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd have taken money from him too."
Aliska only snorted contemptuously at this remark, but preferred to refrain from answering. But this only spurred the thief on, and he decided to continue his mockery:
"You're a strange one. You're famous for a criminal, lustful past, and at the same time you dream of family happiness with some terrific man. Haven't you thought about changing your name there, changing your way of life?"
"I'm not ashamed of my past — I'm proud of my talents. The man who loves me and is ready to do anything for our happiness has the right to know what he's getting involved with."
Aliska smiled so sweetly as she answered Arthur's jabs that he had no choice but to surrender. Although at the end he snorted that then this lady had no hope of finding herself a man, she only showed indifference, saving face.
We chatted pleasantly for some time more, after which everyone went to sleep. And in the morning our companion appeared before us with white hair and green eyes — I was already starting to get used to that, while the thief at first was bewildered but later shrugged and accepted things as they were, as if he didn't care. Again a noisy and cheerful atmosphere stood out in the street. And again our honest company was getting ready to go to "Inspiring Food," with the goal of getting closer to art. On one hand, something inside me wanted to talk my companions out of this undertaking and choose to explore the town itself; on the other, I was very attracted to the prospect of seeing the beautiful muse again. Besides, it was all harmless and maybe even beneficial. Well, how do you argue with arguments like that?
In the end we again arrived at that gloomy place, sat down at a table, and were again served by that same long-haired waiter. Our company started again with simple food, after which we moved on to the inspiring kind. This time Aliska decided to inhale the furan smoke, Arthur took up the infusion, and I set about enjoying the flower. This time there was no effect at all, or at least so it seemed to us. For some time we anticipated meeting our charming muses, but nothing happened. Properly speaking, we should have turned to that guy and asked him why nothing was working this time. However, my companions persuasively argued that the whole point was that each of our bodies had grown accustomed to a specific source of inspiration, and so we should return to the one we'd started with.
You'd think that was a very good and well-founded idea, but here too failure awaited us. An hour passed, but nothing changed. The waiter the whole time never once paid us any attention, and my disappointed companions were ready to send it all to hell and leave this town. I'd never have thought that those two possessed such high spirituality and dreamed of being inspired by excellent ideas. The awkward wait for a miracle drove each of us to try previously untested sources, after which we began to discuss the next plan of action.
Aliska promised she would definitely escort me to Listvenny, even despite her hatred for that town. Arthur promised he'd be rid of us two as soon as he repaid his debt to each of us. I, for my part, commented that being in Muzas had turned out fairly calm, and that for me that was even somewhat unexpected. My companions just waved that off and added that it's by no means this much fun everywhere as it had been for us recently. Honestly, the thought that the dangerous adventure in Flige could be considered fun rather struck me, and so I decided to voice my opinion.
"Despite my acceptance of what happened in Flige, don't go claiming that it was fun."
"Maksim, come on, why do you start, you only ruin everything again."
Alisa expressed her negativity toward my words with her face; Arthur only pretended to ignore the conversation.
"I'm not ruining anything. I simply don't approve of murder, even if we're talking about punishing an even more dangerous cannibal."
"My dear and closest friend, if it'll help you, I'd like to tell you something." — Arthur licked his lips and his face took on a rather sly expression, but now he'd decided to take part in the conversation. — "So you condemn our light-minded companion for having encroached on the life of a bloodthirsty monster. But what do you say about the fact that today and before, you ordered and ate meat. You don't really think that it comes from plants, or that a living creature cuts a piece off itself when it's ripe and offers it to a person for cooking, while the vanished part of the body regenerates?"
"Ugh, lord, that's disgusting! Meat is different. It's obtained completely differently; no one has to be killed for it!"
"Interesting — then tell us how."
Honestly, I had nothing to answer to Arthur's question, because I had seldom in my life reflected on how food is obtained. I would probably never have supposed that the fine farmers of Raissky were capable of killing an animal in order to then feed it to people. Lord, that's awful. We are all disgusting creatures. It hadn't really occurred to me in general that a creature had to die for meat products to be obtained — I thought the process of obtaining meat was something like getting milk.
"I've never seen anyone kill an animal. And the cooked meat never ran around alive in front of me — I didn't converse or interact with it, so it's all not the same thing."
"A fine point of view, but since you don't approve of bloodshed, you must reproach absolutely everyone who eats meat and enjoy exclusively vegetables, fruits, and plants." — Arthur smiled like a victor, which irritated me greatly.
"No, that's not so. I didn't personally kill this creature. Besides, presumably only animals that have already died of old age or illness go for meat."
"Usually you shouldn't eat such meat — it's harmful and unpalatable." — Alisa chimed in; apparently she completely shared Arthur's opinion. Or was it all a diversion against me?
"How do you know? Maybe it's better to go straight to the people who bring the meat products and ask them?"
They could dissemble as much as they liked, but I didn't back down. If the process of obtaining meat were as awful as my comrades considered, it would have been banned long ago. However, a shadow of doubt had nonetheless formed in me — perhaps there were towns in which the eating of meat was forbidden.
"Fine, let's ask the waiter how they obtain meat for this establishment." — Arthur smiled a broad smile, as if he knew exactly what the answer would be. I had the feeling he was mocking me, and at the same time this excessively strong confidence put me on my guard, and I shifted to a tactical retreat.
"You can buy the opinion of a waiter, as of any other person in the world, and so I'll prefer to take his word for it but not think about how my breakfast today might have greatly suffered on my account."
"Maybe I should also tell you where scrambled eggs come from, if you've ever eaten them?" — Arthur sensed his victory and decided to keep pressing me.
"Enough, I get it. I'm bad, I eat animal products, I must be reproached and so on. But since I didn't kill anyone with my own hands and it was already a prepared product, it doesn't count. And don't forget that we all eat in order to live!"
Arthur took on the expression of someone explaining something to a child. But our companion joined the conversation and, in a very loud, lively voice, asked me:
"Well then, what do you want from us? The cannibal woman also died so that you two could live! All you can do is whine about all kinds of useless nonsense."
Now I understood what this whole conversation about meat had been leading to, and so I preferred to silently end it. I started looking at all of it a little differently; however, I still saw the events in Flige, as well as the fear of the unknown I'd experienced in Wildvest, more in a negative light than a positive one.
While we argued on this less-than-pleasant topic, I didn't even notice the room filling with a large number of women. I simply hadn't seen them, and so when I started looking around, I was somewhat taken aback. They were all saying something, apparently to me. And when I managed to catch part of their conversations, I began to understand that the muses had come to me. Only, if last time I had occasion to encounter just one, here there were no fewer than a hundred!
They all differed in appearance from one another, but each was beautiful in her own way. Some whispered for me to paint their portrait, others sang wonderful songs, still others gave advice for winning the heart of my beloved Marina. The rest I simply couldn't make out in this crowd of voices.
In my eyes everything was as if in a fog, as if I'd sunk into a wonderful dream. One moment I heeded the love advice of one black-haired muse who looked exactly like Marina, the next I caught out of the corner of my eye Arthur trying to sneak up from behind on some person, as if merely walking past. And now I saw Alisa approaching the waiter and offering him all kinds of indecencies.
Then it got even more interesting. The waiter began to scold us, saying we'd done something wrong, violated something, and so on, but none of us could have cared less, since each of us was absorbed in our own affairs (accosting, thievery, and daydreams of love). Later we were rudely thrown out of the establishment, but even that we were completely indifferent to. We walked through the town and gladly took in everything around us, looking at the condemning faces of the townsfolk, who had even ceased their wonderful songs and dances.
From somewhere far off, with difficulty, one could make out shouts to the effect that we were terrible and that we should be driven out of town, but at the same time everyone was afraid to come close to us. But we couldn't care less about that either, since each was absorbed in interaction with his charming inspirer.
For the first time in the whole trip, I wasn't worried about the opinion of those around me. It's just that I'd grown tired of all these outcries from people who didn't understand into what delight we had plunged, and so, having heeded the advice of one of the beautiful muses, I proposed to my companions that we leave this boring town and enjoy the journey to the fullest. But we decided not simply to leave Muzas, but to do it with a song.
Music struck up, and the three of us sang as if we'd been preparing the performance for several months running. Aliska danced erotically but beautifully, Arthur nimbly bounded down the street around the involuntary spectators, and I provided the lead vocals and joyfully sang of merry adventures. But despite the fact that we performed stunningly, there were faces who were displeased with our impromptu concert. But we couldn't care less. Even when they started throwing objects at us, we deftly jumped over them and went on with our business, as if there were no one around. Later there were also those who approved of our boldness, and so after that the young people danced and sang along with us. When the songs about travel ended, everyone moved on to romantic music. And later, when we got tired of performing, we realized that the residents of Muzas had completely forgotten about us, and so we decided to calmly take our leave of it.
Afterward, our stroll went as if in a dream. The three of us felt no fatigue and did nothing but heed our muses and, from time to time, do everything they said. One town remembered us thanks to the fact that Aliska tried to publicly seduce some attractive young man. In another town we were shamed because Arthur had tried to quietly make off with a huge golden statuette from the mayor's house, maintaining his seriousness to the last and insisting that it was HIS thing and that everyone makes mistakes. There was also a town in which only I cast myself in a negative light, when, having heeded the advice of one attractive red-haired muse, I tried to teach the townsfolk the way of life as in Raissky, asserting that only thus would they find happiness. They, you see, didn't need worthless preachers. Sometimes we also accompanied our adventures with a good drinking bout, in the course of which we most often forgot that no one but us could see the muses, and so we tried to get them drunk too. The only good thing in all of it was that by no means in all regions did we give our names, and so not all information about our merrymaking would turn into rampant gossip — which means not all the news about me would reach Raissky.
We lost count of time, but I'm ready to bet that interaction with our inspirers lasted about a month. In that time Alisa managed to receive more rejections than, as she herself claims, in all her previous years of travel. Arthur, meanwhile, "accidentally found" an enormous quantity of coins that could have fed several starving families. And I, not without the help of my beautiful muses, told everyone around what they needed to do in order to find true happiness with the girl they loved, and also tried to teach people to live correctly — to which people reacted variously. One could safely assert that each of us was going mad, but at the time we were convinced that everything was going as it should. The constant humming in the head was taken for granted.
After some time I even started noticing that the muses grew fewer with each day, but that hardly bothered me. I think the girls disappeared only when they managed to get through to me. The ideas of some of them were even brilliant, and one could have written a whole book about it — or maybe several — but unfortunately I was too busy listening to the rest, and so many sound thoughts slipped out of my head, replaced by others. Or maybe I was raving here too — it's hard to judge now.
It's embarrassing to admit, but I remembered practically none of the towns we visited, since I was mainly concerned only with conversing with the muses. Even the last day of my interaction with them I remember only for the fact that, after several glasses of strong drinks, one full blonde took me by the hand and said that I should look at the world while I was young. And so I made my comrades set out on the road, even though all of us were excessively exhausted. Only they insisted on grabbing a couple more bottles with us to enliven our march, and I didn't particularly object. I had already managed to grow accustomed to the fact that the transition between two towns is barely registered by the body, and so one might as well drink for fun.
If I'd been smarter earlier, I would have said to myself even then that it was better not to get involved in this whole muse business, and most importantly to stop consuming alcohol completely. But at the time I was happy, and so I considered everything we did to be correct and good. Even if we had greatly harmed someone, I would still have maintained the confidence that everything was going as it should.
And so, we had already covered a certain distance, and I was listening to yet another of the judgments from some muse that had become commonplace. But suddenly it went quiet. All the girls around had vanished, and only my companions remained with me. It was the dead of night, it was hot, and the sand under our feet was very soft. Apparently the muses had left my comrades too. And so we all breathed a sigh of relief and, without a second thought, collapsed onto the ground, sinking into a deep sleep.

I think if I put off my diary for later and tried to fall asleep, my inner muses would cruelly mock me, causing thoughts that would prevent me from falling asleep.

red hair with green hair