Pathetic excuses of that man became the last straw that made Victor lose his patience. This odious voice, this obsequiousness, and this image that never stopped being before his eyes – Victor just could not stand it any longer. Therefore, he drew a deep breath, slowly stepped aside from the wall and, just as if nothing had happened, began to walk towards them, with the hood on his head and the tight fists concealed in his pockets.
“I promise not to be late tomorrow,” that man said with an apologetic tone in his voice and suddenly became silent, constrained to be so by an invisible chain of unspeakable feelings, when Victor allowed himself to be seen just a few paces away from the spot where those two were standing.
The only thing that man managed to portray in this losing situation was his raised hand, which, apparently, was meant to warn Mariam about an appearance of a supporting character.
As to Mariam, who was standing up to this point with her back turned to Victor, she swiftly turned round, having only heard his steps, and with the same speed shed everything what her interlocutor failed to get rid of at the right time. Fear, confusion, astonishment, disappointment, nervousness, feeling of guilt… Victor did not succeed in noticing in her eyes anything of what he had wanted to find there. He cast at her a disapproving glance from under the hood, pulled over his eyes, and she responded to him with an absolutely blank look as if they did not know each other. She did everything what was needed to be done in order to be acquitted just at that spot, as if he never caught her in the act.
“Hello, Mariam!” Victor smiled. “I have decided to meet you personally instead of calling, after having incidentally remembered your offer to visit your workplace.”
However, no one answered him anything within the time limit of a normal dialogue, but the fact did not surprise Victor at all, for even her quick mind could not find right words and choose the most correct pattern of behaviour fast enough, while sifting them out through several forms simultaneously. She seemed devastated, carefully scoured off from everything. With no emotions and no facial expression, she was standing still like a waxwork bearing an uncanny likeness to the original.
“I believe you were there yesterday,” Victor reminded himself, having pointed one finger at that man, trying not to overact. “It was Anna, if I am not mistaken…”
At this point, other characters miraculously came back to life and with them the performance.
“So he is in the know?” the anonymous hero was the first to regain consciousness.
“Calm down!” Mariam said with a wave of her hand. “According to you, every other man is aware of our secret one way or another.”
“What secret?” Victor said his lines. “Asking out of sheer curiosity, nothing beyond. Also, I would not like to be the one to blame, if it suddenly comes to light.”
“OK,” Mariam exhaled, “I seem to be the one who is going to explain this awkward situation. Victor, it is Dan!” after hearing his name, Dan held out his hand towards Victor, but was not favoured with the same polite gesture, having received instead confused explanations about something greasy that had been allegedly eaten by Victor a few moments before. “Dan is a fiancée of my friend Anna,” Mariam continued, showing the utter absence of interest in explanations of the current situation. “Dan and Anna are going to get married next month, and now he wants to surprise her by playing in the evening of the same day in front of all guests. And as for me, a silly woman, I have agreed to help him and now I have to cancel kid’s classes because one Dan misses his and, what is more, fails to find a minute to warn me about it. By the way, if you are late at least five minutes next time, our agreement is denounced!” she threatened at the end of the story, having viciously stuck her forefinger into the chest of the bad student.
“I have already apologized for my behaviour,” Dan tried to defend himself, still confused.
“You heard me. It is enough for me to take risks by arranging all these secret meetings. We are going or what?” she smiled at Victor this time.
“Everything was so simple, with no superfluous words, without a chance to find fault with her explanation. However, maybe this faultlessness of her words was the main reason to doubt them…” Victor was slowly walking alongside of her in the direction of his new home, looking, though mechanically, for anything in order to justify his sufferings of weeks’ duration. The fact that he had nearly relinquished the hope of being with her again for no particular reason demented him quietly.
And even though he soon left this senseless search behind, for a while, the same questions still kept appealing to a higher court, gradually subsiding deeper and deeper towards the bottom of his consciousness and broadcasting a hardly distinguishable danger signal.
“What are you thinking about?” Mariam asked, with interest flickering in her eyes, having completely dispelled his fears. “Do not get me wrong, but I cannot feel comfortable, when you stay silent like this, self-absorbed.”
Victor turned his head in her direction but did not answer anything. She wanted to be talking and he was not going to prevent her from doing it.
“Yesterday, when I saw you in the street I realized it was you right away. Such thoughtful and serious,” Mariam began to discuss the yesterday’s meeting; sparing neither words nor emotions, she was parodying Victor without ceremony in a moment of his extreme thoughtfulness, with his lined forehead, serious look, and bowed head. “But first I could not decide to approach you because that strange parting we had had before. I had left in the confusion, without having allowed you to finish your thought, but later I could not stop seriously reflecting on what you had told me about friendship.”
Mariam suddenly became silent, stared out of countenance by Victor, who seemed to have forgotten to watch his steps.
“What?” she asked a moment later, having inspected herself from top to toe, “Is anything wrong?”
“No, on the contrary, everything is overly right,” he smiled with a thoughtful look. “We could have never met again, you know.”
“By the way, what exactly you are going to treat me to?” Mariam changed the subject, having linked her arm through Victor’s arm, hastening their steps.
“I have hoped for a businesslike atmosphere, in my estimation, we eat something every time we meet each other.”
Victor was drifting surrounded by unknown feelings, which he did not even try to describe as if knowing that it was beyond his power. For the first time he did not have to think about anything, there was no need to worry, no one tried to predict the future. He was simply savouring the moment, as Mariam once advised him.
“Are you sure you did not deceive me about that occupation of yours?” Mariam suddenly began to laugh. “Or maybe an ultra-modern seducer does not invite girls to his place?”
For a second, Victor lost in thoughts again.
“To be completely honest, there was only one whom I invited to my place,” he answered seriously after being deep in thought for a few seconds. “And it was a huge mistake. In fact, I believe that only one woman deserves the right of entering a man’s house. That is why I consider it as the gravest mistake in my life. I see to have already wasted the only attempt.”
Listening to him, Mariam gradually grew serious and began to reflect on the sense of these words. It was obvious that they had deeply got into her soul. She stopped hurrying and her hand inevitably slid down from his.
“However, as I have just told you, it is just a business meeting!” having returned her hand to its former place, Victor corrected himself.
“Then neither of us is going to be right. It will be a business meeting with a great dinner, which I am going to prepare. And yes, before you ask, I am delivering an ultimatum!” Mariam commanded.
“And I would call it a compromise,” Victor agreed dubiously.
“But first we have to stock up on provisions in the nearest shop, for I am sure that I will find nothing in your bachelor kitchen.”
And she was absolutely right, which could be easily proven
with Victor’s eloquent silence. They entered a supermarket, where he had usually gone alone, animatedly discussing their tastes, then bought everything what she considered important and then headed to his house. Victor was calm, disturbed by nothing, he knew that the order he had undertaken to guard was sufficient to receive guests, even such precious as her. And he was right, Mariam entered inside without showing any negative emotions. First, she took a view of the sitting-room and then proceeded to the kitchen, where she began to sort out what they had bought. In the meanwhile, Victor could not find a corner for himself and therefore just sat down on a chair next to her, having chosen for himself a free role of the idler.
“I hope you do not mind if I make everything without your assistance?” Mariam asked with an infectious smile.
“Well, let me think, only if you do not mind me sitting here during the process and staring at you!” he answered quickly.
“I like when you act like this.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“I like when you are not engrossed in your dark thoughts. And do you have a carving knife?” Mariam suddenly digressed from the subject but instantly returned to it, having found what she looked for.
“How can you know that there are not dark thoughts now?” Victor asked her with a rising intonation as if trying to prove that she was wrong.
“I do not know, I think I just feel it, but for the most part you speak your mind as an old man. But you are so young, and tell me one thing, please, if young people turn away from their youth, who will represent it then? By the way, how actually old are you?”
“Twenty-seven,” Victor avowed instantly.
“So you are younger than me!” Mariam stared at him, speechless with surprise.
Nevertheless, Victor’s greatly praised cheerfulness was already coming to the end again. In spite of his sincere desire to please her at least today, to redress his mistakes, and to apologize for those suspicions that he had entertained, in spite of the feelings that were overwhelming him, he could not be truly merry all the same.
Could she be here anyway, talking with him? Was it right or wrong? He could neither answer, nor stop tormenting himself with these questions.
“I believe that twenty-seven is an advanced age,” he gave a short commentary.
“And what exactly has your life been like up to this day?” Mariam put another strange question as she was closely examining a microwave oven.
“Do you really want me to recount twenty years of my life?” Victor smiled ironically.
“No, at least eighteen years of your life I can easily describe by myself. I can imagine what events took place in your childhood and your youth, but this analysis will be very superficial. Frankly speaking, these first years of almost anyone’s life usually are not very interesting. However, what happened to young Victor within the next nine years of his life is the question to answer.”
“Actually, Victor has something to give priority over what you ask him to tell.”
“And what is it exactly?” Mariam asked, having turned round, “I am all attention!”
“Not so fast, before I do it, I would like you to promise that you will listen to the end of my story no matter what.”
“Is that really necessary?” having leaned against the wall, Mariam folded her arms across her chest as if organizing a defence against a forthcoming attack.
“I believe it is!” Victor answered seriously. “So? Can I be sure that you will hear out everything until the end independently of what I will tell?”
“I am sorry, of course, but I cannot get rid of the idea that you have not gained the complete understanding of female psychology yet if you ask me to make such promise,” she unexpectedly grew sad as if having once again picked up his thoughtfulness without being able to suppress it with her own cheerful mood. “There is no woman in this world that would honestly promise you what you ask me to do, so even if one consents, it will mean nothing.”
“You do not seem to understand, all I need is grounds to begin this conversation. I do not want to guess now, looking for something beyond my physical existence. I am willing to accept this innocent deception I am ready to be deceived!” Victor wearily put his head in his palms. “Cannot you really understand that it is the moment of revelation?”
Nevertheless, she did not have time to give him an answer because at this point somewhere in the apartment an unfamiliar melody began to sound, and Mariam left the kitchen, having apologized humbly. It was not difficult for Victor to name the caller. Nobody, except for Tumenov, was able to awake from sleep all these feelings of hers. He could easily make her burn with anger, but at the same time would always see almost implicit obedience, wrapped up in false respect, in response.
Mariam returned to the kitchen five minutes later, crushed and seemingly irrevocably lost in thoughts. Victor glanced at her silently, for everything was clear for him even without explanations. Her overall appearance, from the eyes, which almost instantaneously grew dim against the background of her paled face, to hands, which were powerlessly hanging down – all this was indicating her near leaving.
“Before you leave…” Victor slowly rose to his feet and gently touched her shoulders, carefully moving her aside. Then, he disappeared behind a door of one room.
“What are you up to?” Mariam asked fondly, looking at a camera in his hands.
“I hope you will not mind giving me some pleasure by helping me to steal an insignificant part of your beauty? If you cannot sit for a portrait, then you must allow me to have a few photos,” Victor smiled as warmly and sincerely as he could possibly afford in these sad minutes of parting. “Are you ready?”
“One second, please!” she asked, having tucked up a strand of hair and thrown her head a little back, standing sideways.
Victor quickly took several photographs, one of which managed to catch her eye. It was enough…
“Do you want me to see you to the door?” he asked, going through the formalities, mere in this particular situation.
“No, thanks,” Mariam turned her back to him and made her way towards the door, without waiting for more superfluous questions.
“Wait! This is yours!” Victor suddenly took her by the hand and gave her back the banknote that he had gotten from her that evening.
He could not explain this frantic gesture to anybody; maybe if he had thought it over a little, he would not have done what he did, but at this moment, he could think of nothing but preventing her from leaving, and it was the best idea he had.
“Yes, you are right, it was absolutely uncivil of me,” she agreed, looking at the crumpled piece of paper.
“I will call…”
“No, you won’t!” Mariam forbid abruptly, having made Victor have this troubled, naive look. “It will be better if I call you myself. I do not want him to be beside when it happens… You should understand.”
This short dialogue, preceding another sad farewell, was a proof of huge changes, which had happened in their relationship since their first encounter. Her excuse and his short tacit consent confirmed that they had now something to hide, something of great value for both of them.
Next two days proved to be absolutely empty and senseless. Victor was in no mood to do virtually anything and stayed indoors all the time. His only entertainment was guarding a kitchen window and keeping under observation passing cars and passers-by that, judging by the same faces wandering there and back, did not have anything to do either. From morning to late at night, the entire day turned for him into one burning desire of taking the cell phone and calling her, but he resisted it with all his might. He lasted out two days this way and in the morning of the third one, when he already lost all his guidelines able to help him separating the right and the wrong, she called him herself, having made his heart throb with excitement even before he actually heard her cheerful voice.
“Hello, Victor, this is Mariam. You might not remember it, but we had coffee with you in one street café several weeks ago.
Victor?” she began seriously but could not stand it and burst out laughing at the end of the question.
Now, after hearing these words, Victor felt something happen with his consciousness. He all of a sudden felt such lonely and unfortunate that even forgot to play up to her joke. He had to see her as soon as possible, to let her know how much she meant in his life, despite everything, whether it was Tumenov or those suspicions that he had harboured, which were no secret for her.
“When are we going to finally see each other?” he asked her with blind devotion.
“I have missed you too!” Mariam said, rallying on his impatience. “We will encounter again tomorrow where it happened the first time, time is invariable, and no contacts until the meeting itself. Oh, yes, I will be wearing a red hat.”
Mariam was in good humour, which made Victor become brighter too. He was copying all her emotions, having previously multiplied them by two by reason of seeing, unconsciously, himself and nobody else as the cause of their existence.
“Understood!” Victor confirmed, without giving a veiled reference to a joke, and began to smile only one minute later, having once again played this conversation in his head.
By this moment, his life was already perfectly divided into two parts: one that was joyful and full of emotions regardless of their sort, for the main thing was to feel something, and still there was the second part, which did not even have a certain form. It was but emptiness filled with gloom, so faceless that even the breach halving his life merged with it.
In the morning of the next day, everything seemed remarkable indeed. Despite his early awakening and rather cloudy weather, Victor was feeling very well. He left the house at the same hour, just as he did it before, having some leeway to slowly stroll towards the café and still have about an hour to spend it talking with her. Nevertheless, once he found himself outside, a deep, eerie feeling crept over him. He suddenly left his habitual model of perception and took a detached view on himself, without being able to define a position from where his new eyes were watching him. This intangible feeling of being shadowed instantly wrapped him up to his fingertips, having squeezed him from all directions with such rage that Victor involuntarily began looking around in search of secret observers, until he saw a black van, which had no intentions to hide itself, drawing Victor’s attention with a registration plate of three sixes. This symbolical number suddenly helped him to appease his fears and to keep quietly going farther to the café, maybe excessively calm. Overly canonically spiteful, in his estimation, looked a black carriage with the number of the beast… And he was right, to some extent.
The Superfluous Man Page 10