“Ah, so,” I said with interest. “And what does Seus tell?”
She let go of my arm at once.
“I didn’t hear it myself. The girls told me.”
“And what did they tell?”
“Well, this and that… Maybe they put it all on. Maybe, you know. Seus had nothing to do with it.”
“Hmmm,” I said.
“Don’t think anything about Seus, he’s a good guy and he keeps his mouth closed.”
“Why should I be thinking about Seus?” I said to quiet her. “I have never even laid eyes on him.”
She took my arm again and enthusiastically announced that we were going to have a drink now.
“Now’s the very time for us to have a drink.”
She was already using the familiar address with me. We turned a corner and came out on a wide thoroughfare. Here it was lighter than day. The lamps shone, the walls glowed, the display windows were lambent with multicolored fires. This was, apparently, one of Ahmad’s circles of paradise. But I imagined it differently. I expected roaring bands, grimacing couples, half-naked and naked people. But here it was relatively quiet.
There were lots of people, and it seemed to me that most were drunk, but they were all very well and differently dressed and all were gay. And almost all smoked. There was no wind, and waves of bluish smoke undulated around the lights and lanterns.
Vousi dragged me into some establishment, found a couple of acquaintances, and disappeared after promising to find me later. The crowd was dense, and I found myself pressed against the bar. Before I could gather my wits, I found myself downing a shot. A brown middle-aged man with yellow whites of the eye was booming into my face.
“Kiven hurt his leg — right? Brush became an antique and is now quite useless. That makes three — right? And on the right they haven’t got nobody. Phinney is on the right, and that’s worse than nobody. A waiter, that’s what be is.”
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
“I don’t drink at all,” replied the brown one with dignity, breathing strong fumes at me. “I have jaundice. Ever hear of it?”
Behind me, someone fell off a stool. The noise modulated up and down. The brown one, sitting down next to me, was shouting out some story about some character who almost died of fresh air after breaking some pipe at work. It was hard to understand any part of it, as various stories were being shouted from all sides.
“… Like a fool, he quieted down and left, and she called s taxi truck, loaded up his stuff, and had it dumped outside the town…”
“… I wouldn’t have your TV in my outhouse. You can’t think of one improvement on the Omega, my neighbor is an engineer, and that’s just what he says — you can’t think up an improvement on the Omega…”
“… That’s the way their honeymoon ended. When they returned home, his father enticed him in the garage — and his father is a boxer — and trounced him until he lost consciousness. They called a doctor later…”
“… So, all right, we took enough for three… and their rule is, you know, take as much as you wish, but you get to swallow all of it… and they are watching us by now, and he is carried away — and says — let’s take more… well, I says to myself, enough of this, time to break knuckles…”
“… Dear child, with your bust, I wouldn’t know any grief, such a bosom is one in a thousand, but don’t think I’m flattering you, that’s not my style…”
A scrawny girl with bangs down to the tip of her nose climbed up on the vacant stool next to me and began to pound with puny fists on the bar, yelling, “Barman, barman, a drink.”
The din died down again, and I could hear behind me a tragic whisper — “Where did he get it?” “From Buba, you know him, he is an engineer.” “Was it real?” “It’s scary, you could croak.” “Then you need some kind of pill -” “Quiet, will you?”
“Oh, all right, who would be listening to us? You got one?”
“Buba gave me one package, he says any drugstore has them by the ton… here, look.” “De… Devon — what is it?” “Some sort of medicine, how would I know?” I turned around. One was red-faced with a shirt unbuttoned down to his navel, and with a hairy chest. The other was strangely haggard-looking with a large-pored nose. Both were looking at me.
“Shall we have a drink?” I said.
“Alcoholic,” said the pore-nose.
“Don’t, Pete. Don’t start up, please,” said the red-faced one.
“If you need some Devon, I’ve got it,” I said loudly.
They jumped back. Pore-nose began to look around cautiously. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several faces turn toward us and grow still.
“Let’s go, Pat,” said red-face. “Let’s go! The hell with him.”
Someone put a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a handsome sunburned man with powerful muscles.
“Yes?” I said.
“Friend,” he said benevolently, “drop this business. Drop it while it’s not too late. Are you a Rhinoceros?”
“I am a hippopotamus,” I joked.
“No, don’t. I’m serious. Did you get beat up, maybe?”
“Black and blue.”
“All right, don’t feel bad about it. Today it’s you, tomorrow it’s them… As for Devon and all that — that’s crap, believe me. There’s lots of crap in the world, but that is the crap of all crap.”
The girl with the bangs advised me, “Crack him in the teeth… what’s he sticking his nose in for… lousy dick.”
“Lapping it up, and doing it up brown, aren’t you?” said the sunburned one coolly, and turned his back on us. His back was huge, and studded with bulging muscles under a tight half-transparent shirt.
“None of your business,” said the girl at his back. Then she said to me, “Listen, friend, call the barman for me — I can’t seem to get through to him.”
I gave her my glass and asked, “What’s to do?”
“In a minute, we’ll all go,” replied the girl. Having swallowed the alcohol, she went limp all at once. “As to what to do — that’s up to luck. Without luck, you can’t make out.
Or you need money if you deal with promoters. You’re probably a visitor? Nobody here drinks that dry vodka. How is it your way, you should tell me about it… I’m not going anywhere today, I’ll go to the salon instead. I feel terrible and nothing seems to help… Mother says — have a child. But that’s dull too, what do I need one for?”
She closed her eyes and lowered her chin on her entwined fingers. She looked brazen, but at the same time crestfallen. I attempted to rouse her but she stopped paying attention to me, and suddenly started shouting again, “Barman, barman, a drink!”
I looked for Vousi. She was nowhere to be seen. The cafe began to empty. Everyone was in a hurry to get somewhere. I got off my stool, too, and left the cafe. Streams of people flowed down the street. They were all going in the same direction, and in about five minutes, I was swept out onto a big square. It was huge and poorly lighted, a wide gloomy space bordered by a ring of streetlights and store windows. It was full of people.
They stood pressed against each other, men, women, and youngsters, boys and girls, shifting from foot to foot, waiting for I knew not what. There was almost no talking. Here and there cigarette tips flared, lighting hollow cheeks and compressed lips. Then a clock began to strike the hour, and over the square, gigantic luminous panels sprang into flaming light. There were three of them — red, blue, and green, irregularly shaped rounded triangles. The crowd surged and stood still. Around me, cigarettes were put out with subdued movements. The panels went out momentarily and then started to flash in rotation: red-blue-green, red-blue-green… I felt a wave of hot air on my face, and was suddenly dizzy. They were astir around me. I got up on tiptoes. In the center of the square, the people stood motionless; I had the impression that they were seized rigid and did not fall only because they were pressed in by the crowd. Red-blue-green, red-blue-green.
Wooden, upturned faces, blackly gaping mouths, staring, bulging eyes. They weren’t even winking there, under the panels. A total quiet fell, so that I jumped when a piercing woman’s voice nearby yelled: “Shivers!” All at once, tens of voices responded: “Shivers! Shivers!” People on the sidewalk on the square’s perimeter began to clap
