The Way of the Clan 2 (World of Valdira)

by Dem Mikhaylov

  'Well…’

  'That place looked like that picturesque trash. There were some wagons equipped for living standing right in the snow. There was a sea twenty meters away. Or the ocean. Perhaps, it was the ocean. The water was almost black, chunks of ice on top, real icebergs floating at a distance. Listen, listen, Vlas. While I am telling. There was a thick cable stretching from one wagon into water - but I didn’t notice it at once, it was covered with snow. Although there is now use to recall the past... it’s over.

  'No! And do not even think to change the topic!’ Vlas shook his head, looking around the table quickly. ‘So... wine and whiskey... no, it won’t do. Wait a minute!’ he disappeared into the hallway and shouted, ‘Don’t even think to close the topic! I’ll bring vodka! Oh, here is a couple of packages of potato chips I forgot about them. Oh! One is already empty! Who ate them?! Although I know who it was…’

  He turned back in a couple of seconds. Opened the bottle fast and poured vodka into glasses. Gutted the bag of chips. And said shortly, ‘Come on! To you, bro!’

  We drank. Shaking I head, I ate a couple of chips and continued, ‘But the cable was going straight into water. Really, straight into water - I checked. It was an electric cable – because there was light and heating in those wagons. Honestly speaking, there was also a coal stove. And about thirty meters from the shore there was a hunchbacked bulky object sticking out of water. Covered with ice. I couldn’t understand what it was. So there is nothing else to say. Wherever you look there is ice and emptiness.’

  'Shit... And?’

  'That's all. So I started living there. There was a bed, food, a pile of books on politics including the complete set of works by Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin. Neither detective stories, no fiction. Although… There was Monday begins on Saturday by Strugatsky. Neither TV nor radio. I was living in one wagon, one more guy in the nearby one. Very old. And dumb. He was really dumb. Once a week I had a kind of entertainment - a helicopter used to land. The pilot and two middle-aged dudes. However, they never stayed longer than two hours. The pilot and the dumb were bringing boxes into the wagon while I was looking at them out of the frosty window, and those two men came to the water and started throwing something tied to ropes into the water. Threw, waited a little, pulled out. With a clever look wrote down something in a thick notebook and threw again. They repeated the whole process five or six times. Then collected all their stuff and departed. And we continued living there. We ate, slept and produced shit. Read from time to time. So six months flew... but I’d better say crept. You know, now can cook such a delicious soup from canned meat, frozen potatoes and a couple a rotten onion, any five-star restaurant chef would kick himself! Delicious! And if I have black pepper, you’ll make your mouth water!’

  'What a shit, Ros... Have a drink, bro, you’ll feel better!’

  'Calm down, Vlas,’ I laughed sadly. ‘It finished long time ago. I’m fine.’

  'I don’t want to hurt you, but your dad is mad. According to your description of the place it looks like a military cemetery. I can’t imagine how he managed to bring you there. Really, it was too cruel. Well, yes, you made big mistakes, but finally your name was cleared, right? What the fuck is all that mess to do, with his own son? And what if you died there? Or fell ill? And what if the food was over or something like that? I do not understand…’

  'There was enough food,’ I shrugged, my mouth was full of chips. Delicious. Or does it seem to me because of the empty stomach? ‘And they brought food regularly. But you guessed it right.’

  ‘Guessed what? Wait, do not tell. I’m starting shivering. Let’s drink first. Now I understand why I didn’t recognize you first.

  ‘To parents,’ I chuckled raising my glass.

  ‘To them. Let them live for a long time and know as little as possible!’

  We drank, ate chips. I was rolling the glass thoughtfully between my hands, then dropped it on the table and laughed. Strangely, barking laugh. Vlas startled and spilled vodka.

  'What are you doing?! Do not frighten me, damn. First you tell horror stories, then laugh... it’s abnormal.’

  'Yes, you really guessed it right, Vlas, that’s why I’m laughing. Straight to the point!’

  "Guessed what? The fact that one day the food was over?’

  'No, not that. The fact about death. After sending me there, he wrote me letters from time to time, kept asking what I thought up. I did not answer. I was very angry, do you understand me? At father, and in general at everything. I decided that I’d better die than ask him anything. But as time passed, I felt so shitty that could not stand, I wrote him a letter and sent with the helicopter. I was ready to agree with everything. Hmm...’

  'Well, I can understand it. I think I would do it in a week, I would be howling like a wolf and beating my head against the ground. But what about my guess?’

  'Listen. In three days, in a nice snowy morning the old dumb man didn’t come out of his wagon. Neither in the morning nor in the afternoon. I knocked – no answer, pulled the door - closed. I ran around the wagon, cleaned the frosty window a bit and looked inside. I saw the old man lying on the floor at the bed, looking at me and smiling so sweetly.

  ‘What do you mean?.. Why was he smiling?’

  'He died,’ I replied calmly picking up a glass. ‘Cheers! To those who are not with us anymore!’

  ‘Shit! Are you kidding me or what?! Why did he die?!’

  ‘Why do people die? I tell you - he died,’ I shrugged and swallowed a gulp of vodka without feeling bitterness. ‘Maybe because of heart attack or whatever.’

  ‘Shit... and what did you do?’

  'First, I was yelling, banging at the windows like a fool. Obviously I got complete silence in response. And I could not enter. The large door opened outward, there was lattice on the windows. The object of a sort of regime one. As for the tools I only had a whittle knife for peeling potatoes and a can opener. They wouldn’t work. Other tools were kept in the old man’s wagon. In general, there were two residential wagons, and then one of them became a mausoleum. And I was a sort of an honorary tourist with the right to look at the precious body, but without the right to access. In short I was living like in the Red Square and every day went on the tour along the walls of the mausoleum. It's funny, isn’t it?’

  ‘You are kidding, Ros! It’s not fucking funny!’ the Claw snapped, looking at me with bulging eyes, ‘Stop smiling like that, Ros! I have got creeps! What did you do?’

  'But what could I do? I was waiting for the helicopter. I had food. Not much, but I was not starving. But I ran out of tea on the fifth day. I brewed it twice, but the taste was not the same, you know. Eating, reading, sleeping, listening to the wind mourning, scraped the door with a knife slowly like Injun Joe... and every day I used to run to the window to look at Nikitich - it was the old man's patronymic. I scraped rime from the window and looked at him. Then he started changing day by day. It was warm inside the wagon as heaters were working, the light was on. You know, there was a bad smell. I couldn’t realize how I could smell it. Maybe I was hallucinating as the wagon was closed! And, besides, the dead man started to decay... and move little by little...’

  ‘How moving... where?’

  'I think he was moving to the door. He covered two centimeters at least,’ I said seriously. ‘I guess it seemed to me because of terror. But I stopped scrubbing the door and even propped it by an empty diesel keg. And piled snow. Just in case, and then who knows. Ten or twelve days later, Nikititch looked like canned meat. Or like pilchards in tomato sauce. Well, you know, when the body is decaying...’

  'Stop, Ross! Damn such details! What happened next?’

  ‘The helicopter arrived,’ I smiled faintly, ‘with my father on board. But not in eleven days as I had expected. In seventeen days and a half. By the time I was starving like dog. There was only canned food left, but I couldn’t eat it. Every time I looked into a can, I remember Nikitich. Later I found out that the father specifically asked to h
old the helicopter to fly with him and to talk seriously to the prodigal son. Six days was not a critical period, he had some important meetings in the Admiralty and was unable to escape before. Then he arrived. The helicopter landed, he came out looking sternly from under his eyebrows while I was hobbling towards him. He waited until there were two steps between us and then said seriously, ‘Son’. I nodded and slapped... into his eye.

  'Your father?’

  'Sure. Who else? I hit him and started yelling. It was a kind of stroke,’ I smiled ruefully. ‘I was shaking and scattering my spit, waving my arms and legs. Then father caught me and stuck my face into snow, barely holding me. The people jumped out of the helicopter, with dazed faces. I could understand them – right before their eyes a greenhorn bit the Rear Admiral in the face. I was roaring like mad and swearing. I managed to escape my father’s hold, ran up to the pilot and started strangling him – really. My hands clutched around his throat, he croaked, three men hardly coped with me. And again put my face into snow. Why are you so silent, Vlas? Let’s drink one more?’

  'Ok...’ he nodded slowly. ‘Good idea! But why did you attack the pilot?’

  'Well, he controlled the helicopter,’ I shrugged. ‘And the helicopter did not arrive in time. That’s the reason, I guess. I didn’t feel well then. In principle, there is nothing else to tell. They tied me like a bunch of radishes, poured a hundred grams of cognac into my throat and I felt better. I told them what had happened. And that’s how my polar odyssey ended.’

  'Did they take you home?’

  'Yeah. But first to the doctor’s, a military one. An old man. He checks up submariners aptitude. Talks to them, asks questions. Can you guess the doctor’s name? You won’t believe it! Andrew Nikitich! Nikitich! When I heard it, I started giggling and could not stop for forty minutes. But the guy is good, good. I did not notice how I told about my whole life since childhood. And then he made me a surprise before saying goodbye.

  'What do you mean?’

  'Well, once he talked with me, he asked to excuse him politely and went to another room, to my father, but the wall was very thin. He shouted so loudly! It was great! I learned five new dirty words. And then I was sent home. To mom. So, Vlas. I had a few months at home, took pills, but once I felt better I left. Father gave me the money and mother added, and here I am. I’m really sorry that I didn’t contact you. I don’t know why. You were right when you hit me in the jaw. You can do it again.’

  'Stop it, Ros. After your story...’ the Claw shook his head. Suddenly he paused, smiled broadly and then growled, ‘Although ... Since you are offering. Let me headbutt!’

  'You’d better not!’ Keira emerged In the doorway dressed in pajamas and with a towel on her head. ‘Otherwise I'll hit you!’

  ‘Oops... And how long have you been listening to us, honey?’ Vlas asked.

  ‘I’m not going to tell you!’

  'You should have been in the bathroom!’

  'What could I do there for an hour? Swim? Ros...’

  'Let's have a drink,’ I hurried to interrupt the girl. ‘And then I'll go to the bathroom.’

  'What for?’ the Claw got surprised.

  'To wash! What else?’

  'No, bro,’ Vlas didn’t agree with me and added authoritatively. ‘You’ll relax in hot water and will feel like a vegetable. No really. Wash after the restaurant. Nobody is going to smell you. Let’s drink! Keira, would you like anything? Maybe wine again or something stronger?’

  'Vodka,’ the girl replied sinking next to me.

  'That’s the way we like it,’ the stalwart got delighted. ‘Keira, chips is not food, it’s a snack! Take your little hands away! And who has eaten the whole pack of crisps?’

  Ignoring Vlas’s cry, she pointed to the piece of iron hanging on the wall and asked, 'So what is it? Or is it another dreadful and terrible secret?’

  'No, it’s not the secret ,’ I said unhappily. ‘Just an old piece of iron, it's high time to send it to the dumping ground. Where it was found...’

  'Don’t even think about! Vlas boiled over. ‘It's a rarity! How many years have I treasured it... in the corner of the garage. This legendary weapon of the epic class with a bunch of scary bonuses! Great Sword of Ros!’

  'Vlas!’ I snapped. ‘Devil! Keira, don’t listen to him, I’d better explain. Once we got into fighting, because of Pasha’s stupidity and because of this idiot who is pouring vodka.’

  'Calm down!’

  'Yes, the idiot,’ I continued relentlessly. ‘Actually he wasn’t called Claw then, he was Ravioli.’

  'Ros!’

  'He really looks like it,’ Keira agreed carefully examining Vlas’s stout figure.

  'We could sort out the situation peacefully, but Vlas blurted out a few bad words, and Pasha as always headbutted. And then it started. There were twelve people of them and there are five of us. At that point, I suddenly took this piece of iron. I waved it a couple of times, hurt someone’s head and that’s all. Then these idiots I invented this nickname – Katana. Although this thing doesn’t look like a sword,’ I looked wryly at a rusty piece of metal.

  'No no! It was the other way round! In short, it was in the garage at night, there was almost no light. Ros fell in the gutter from a couple of kicks, well, we thought that we lost our hero. Then we heard a wild cry, he flew out of the ditch holding that thing and hit somebody’s head. The opponent fell down. Ross turned around and stabbed the next kid’s stomach by this piece of iron. The guy got folded and yelled, ‘Slaughtered! Slaughtered! Sword!". Then the fight was over.

  ‘I said absolutely the same,’ I chuckled remembering the episode. ‘Do you remember I insisted on leaving the car in the yard? Nothing would happen to it. But Max dug his heels in ‘it will be stolen, it will be scratched!’ That’s why we decided to put the car in the garage ... to our own harm.’

  ‘But we put it in the garage!’

  'Yes, I did,’ I said. ‘And as a result Max’s hand was broken, and you’ve got you’re a scar on your face after that.’

  'Vlas, you said that you got that scar when six bulls were dashing towards you, and you were alone to confront them.’

  'Really?’ Vlas surprised shrugging. ‘I don’t remember. Maybe I was drunk.’

  'I'll call you Ravioli,’ Keira promised somberly.

  'Keira!’

  'Deceitful Ravioli!’

  'Keira!

  'And remove this stuff from the wall off! Rust is dropping on the pillow directly!’

  ‘This is an artifact! All these years I kept it to convey to the true owner!’

  ‘Smart words is not your style!.. Ravioli.’

  'Guys, don’t argue,’ I said with a sigh. ‘Shall we go to a restaurant?’

  'Let's go!’ Vlas replied firmly. ‘But let’s finish the second bottle. No need to hurry.’

  'And who is driving?’

  ‘ Pasha will pick us up. He’s got Jeep. Well… To Ros’s return! Keira, don’t touch the chips!’

  'By the way, Ros, Varvara Pavlovna asked me to thank you for the cake.’

  'What? What cake?’

  'While you were in the cocoon, we presented her a great cream cake on behalf of you. With a big heart and the inscription "To the best neighbor!" We also wanted to write her name, but it didn’t fit.’

  'What do you mean! Why did you do it?!’

  'Shall we drink or not? Stop warming vodka!’

  'What do you mean why? It’s polite manners. She gave us a pie to pardon; we presented her a cake to repent.’

  'Who asked you to do it! Oh my gosh…’

  'Let’s drink! By the way, you’ve got a great neighbor!’ And she makes awesome tea with cardamom!’

  'Did you visit her?!’

  'What else should we do for three hours? Sit at the cocoon and admire you?’

  'What a shit...’

  'What is done is done! Cheers!’

  'Cheers! Remove this piece of metal and take it away, Vlas. I don’t like it!’


  'Cheers! Oh shiiiiit...’

  Chapter 5

  Plaintive Whining Brings Wealth. Return to Feast of Life and Minor Chores. Sinister Laughter!

  Any politician could envy a wide smile on my face. I was really happy.

  There was no hangover! There was not even a hint of it.

  As soon as I dived into Valdira dull headache tearing my whiskeys was cut off. This bliss cannot be described by words. As if I arrived straight to paradise.

  I was sitting on a bench next to the respawn location in Selen village and squinting at the rising sun blissfully. I was waiting for the courier and also recalling the recent events.

  Half an hour ago, I woke up and was relieved to find that I was in my own bed… next to Keira. No, nothing embarrassing. She was in pajamas, I was wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt. I checked just to make sure, first by looking under the covers. We were just sleeping peacefully and nothing more. But she was hugging me... Besides, I do not remember how we had changed clothes. Actually I didn’t remember anything after two o'clock in the morning.

  I carefully get out of bed, then carefully cover Keira who was snuffling peacefully, and ran headlong into the kitchen, where sucked two liters of water out of the bottle and swallowed an aspirin. I felt like my mouth was full of a cat’s...

  I carefully picked up the phone in the room and brought it into the kitchen, thanks god the length of the wire let it. I waited until the kettle boiled, then made strong coffee and dialed a mobile phone number.

  ‘Speaking!’ a disgustingly cheerful voice of a person who obviously slept well didn’t match the image of a man who suffered a car crash in my hungover head .

  ‘Gosha? ‘I asked hesitantly.

  ‘Ros! Hello!’ the voice became even stronger and echoed like an alarm bell in my head, ‘How are you?’

  ‘As in a fairy tale,’ I said, ‘I'm glad you're all right.’