Kitabı oxu: «The Great Cleanup»
The Gypsy Trail
Anna glanced at the screen of her ringing phone. The number appeared quite unfamiliar. Yet she tapped a button and quietly responded:
“Hel-lo.”
There was no reply. Anna repeated:
“Hello…”
And again:
“Hello!”
She could clearly hear the sound of breathing. Someone was at the other end, but would not answer. Anna shrugged, putting the phone down on the table; perhaps it was a wrong number, or else a bad line, and in that case they'd call again to tell her what they want. Things happen.
She waited a couple of minutes, but the phone did not bother her again. “Wrong number so,” she concluded aloud as she returned to her own thoughts. And she had quite enough serious material for those.
Anna was sitting in the kitchen. Just before the phone rang, she poured herself some coffee. Its smell tickled her nostrils pleasantly. Now she picked up the cup and had a sip, then another, concentrating. She had to decide where to start the great cleanup.
The house, of course, was quite clean as it was; Anna swept, wiped, vacuumed every day. Yet she did it quickly, in haste, so she could squeeze her other chores in as well. Now it was time to go over the apartment in a proper disposition.
She raised her eyes to the ceiling: some quick-witted spiders might have sneaked in with their webs. Glanced over the walls: children, caught up in their play, might have spilled something on them or smeared them with carelessly dirty hands. Lowered her gaze to the floor: her husband was sure to forget to wipe his feet at the entrance, bringing in an oil stain or a piece of chewing gum from the street on his shoes. Then she remembered the high shelves in the entrance hall; these needed urgent sorting. This September was amazingly warm and sunny, and yet the winter was closer every day. She had to get the warm clothes, the ice skates, the kids' hockey clubs, and to throw the summer fun in instead: the roller skates, the badminton, the fishing rods, football, volleyball…
It was a very fitting day for “clearing the rubble”. The husband has gone off to work. When he kissed Anna, he apologized:
“My dear, I'll be delayed today: we have to finish a report. Have a good time!”
She shrugged quietly; work is work. So she gave him a peck in response:
“No worries. Have a nice day, good luck!”
“And to you too… with your great cleanup,” he took some time pondering his answer.
Right after the husband, the son and daughter left for school:
“Bye, Mom!”
“Bye, Mom!”
“Don't forget to have your lunches!”
“Yup!… Won't!” a shouted response rang from the stairway.
Last evening it was agreed that after school the children would go to the actively retired granny living in the next block and stay for the night, not showing up at home before tomorrow. So Anna had a lot of time on her hands, with nobody distracting her from her extremely important task. There was, in fact, enough time to complete the great cleanup and cook supper before her husband was due back from work.
Anna had another sip of the coffee and decided, definitely, to start with the high shelves. She stood up briskly, but did not get to do anything, as there was a new ring, this time from the door. Anna was not really surprised; children would often return from halfway to school after forgetting something. The friendly neighbour lady could also drop in for salt or some other trinket. Just to be sure, she looked through the judas hole, only to see, not her husband, children or neighbour, but a completely unfamiliar face.
Sooty skin. Under wide dark eyebrows, a pair of black eyes, their piercing gaze centred on the judas hole. Large lips, appearing to be saying something. Anna turned her head to listen. Sadly, she could not hear anything through the strong wooden door. She looked through the hole again, at the moving lips, the black eyes… and, without knowing why, opened the door.
A gypsy woman was standing on the threshold. A long motley skirt, a flowery kerchief over shoulder-length black hair. A constant murmur was coming off the gypsy's lips.
Anna listened carefully again, to find out what this sudden guest needed. The guest just went on and on moving her lips incessantly. At first Anna thought the gypsy might be speaking in her own incomprehensible language or even spitting out random meaningless sounds. Yet, gradually she could recognize some words among the mumbo jumbo. Some very familiar words: “gold”… “silver”… “money”… These words were repeated again and again:
“Gold… silver…money…gold…silver…money…”
Now understanding what the woman wanted, Anna threw the door wide open, inviting her into the apartment. The guest quietly slipped through the entrance hall, entered the living room, stopped in its centre, looking around. Her gaze slid over wardrobes, a sideboard, a console mirror with drawers and jewellery boxes. Then the gypsy turned to Anna, who finally caught up with her. Off the lips of the guest, the same incomprehensible sounds still came, along with three clear words:
“Gold… silver…money…gold…silver…money…”
With a docile nod, Anna dashed to the console mirror. Out of a drawer, she fished a little box containing small gold ear-rings with real emeralds. These were a heirloom from her mother, who got them in turn from her own mother. Anna wanted to give them to her daughter when her time would come to marry. But now, without thinking, she was shaking expensive jewellery out onto the mirror table. Out of the boxes, she scratched a few gold and silver rings, chains, brooches, bracelets. She pulled out the necklace of real large pearls with yellow precious metal insets, her husband's gift for the ten year anniversary of their life together. Then, after pondering a little, she pulled the wedding ring off her finger. Ran to the children's room to bring the small silver ring that she presented to her daughter on her recent birthday.
Thinking some more, Anna shook her head:
“There is no more gold and silver in the home…” Looking at the gypsy, who continued to mutter with her lips, Anna flung her arms up. “Money!”
She and her husband were planning to purchase a new washing machine, so there was a decent sum in the wardrobe under the bedding. Anna grabbed all the notes, placing them carefully on the console mirror table next to the gold and silver. Then she opened her own purse, removing every coin:
“Nothing more.”
The gypsy nodded and tentatively stepped towards the mirror. Suddenly she stopped upon hearing a noise in the entrance hall: creaking of the door, speech, patter. In another moment, three tall men stormed into the living room. One of them, the eldest, was wearing a regular suit; the two younger ones were uniformed and sported machine guns on their shoulders.
“Hands up! Police!”
Anna raised her hands obediently. Her guest did not follow suit. Instead, the gypsy circled a contemptuous eye over the intruders and started mumbling again. Other words were coming off her lips this time. Anna did not understand them, but for the invaders, the meaning was apparently clear. First the cops froze in place, then exchanged glances and started to rummage their pockets. Onto the mirror table, next to Anna's valuables, they laid out their money, car keys, condoms and even police badges. Then the law enforcement officers turned out their pockets, showing that they have nothing more.
It seemed to Anna that the gypsy's lips formed something approaching a smile. The unwelcome guest, while keeping on mumbling something, started clapping her hands in a rhythm: one, two, three… one, two, three…
The cops exchanged glances again. The elder one undid the buttons on his civilian jacket, spit briefly on his hands, touched his scarce light hair and then suddenly broke into a squat dance. He was, as it quickly turned out, no good at dancing, but still he dutifully threw his left foot and then right foot forward, shaking his sizeable belly that tended to break out of the trouser belt. The other two, with their machine guns, cheered him on, slapping their hands along with the gypsy and singing some folk song out of key.
The policeman, being of a relatively advanced age as well a completely civilian look, was out of his breath in a short time. Finally he failed to throw a foot out again, clutched his shaking belly and stood up:
“I can't go on! Even if you were to kill me, I just can't…”
Catching his breath, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping sweat off his forehead. Meanwhile, the gypsy gazed at another policeman, a uniformed man with an officer's badge. As if following an order, he handed his machine gun to the man with a sergeant's badge, glimpsed at Anna with a green eye and, throwing his arms open, started a sailor's jig. He obviously had quite some experience at this. His was a fine smooth dance, and he even had enough breath to sing along:
“Sometimes we're bound for Liverpool,
Sometimes we're bound for Spain,
Heave away, me jollies, heave away!
But now you're never coming back,
We're bound for the county jail
Heave away me jolly boys, we're all bound away!”
The other policemen, standing by and not dancing, joined in the gloomy chorus:
“But now you're never coming back,
We're bound for the county jail
Heave away me jolly boys, we're all bound away!”
Finally the sergeant could not stand still. He handed the guns to his elderly comrade in civvies and started jumping and stomping his feet in a meek imitation of a tap dance.
The gypsy openly smiled as she watched the brave couple of dancers. The policeman in civvies, having regained his breath, smiled too. The gypsy noticed this, frowned and harshly clapped her hands once. The man in civvies immediately put the guns down in a corner of the room and stood at attention, his back perfectly straight. The other policeman, the moustached officer, put his hands down on the elderly man's shoulders, and then the sergeant with a youthful fluff on his face also placed his hands on the shoulders of the officer. They froze in perfect formation, as if awaiting the next command. And it shortly came. The gypsy started clapping a new rhythm, and the three obediently moved their legs to it, bending their knees, throwing their feet up and out to the sides. The policemen's new groovy dance looked like a bunny hop or lambada; they kept jumping, sometimes to the back or sides, but more to the front, in the general direction of the exit:
“Ta-da-da, la-la-la!”
The three guardians of the peace were smiling joyfully, their eyes full of satisfaction and merriment. As she looked upon the dancing guests, Anna felt an overwhelming desire to join them, putting her own hands on the third policeman's shoulders and, with them, fervently throwing her own legs up and out to the sides, jump, jump, jump:
“Ta-da-da, la-la-la!”
She made a step towards the merry men, but heard the gypsy's voice, ordering:
“Take a clean shawl and put everything into it.”
With no hesitation Anna shuffled to the wardrobe, but before she could get anything out of it, the sound of loud laughter snapped her back to her senses. The three policemen were now roaring, hooting, cackling in one voice. As they stood in the exit, no longer holding each other but firmly blocking the door, they were wiping tears of laughter off their faces.
Finally, the elder man in civilian clothing caught his breath again and gave the gypsy a patronizing look.
“Hey, you – Rada, Magdalene, Cookie Monstress, Adeline of the Western Seas and what not… You really thought we were taken in with tricks? We've seen loads of your brothers and sisters in our long and hard service lives. Stretch out your hands!” Then he nodded to the sergeant, “Work away”.
The youngest of the three immediately took a pair of handcuffs off his belt and locked them onto the gypsy's wrists. The woman gave her hands submissively, though lighting and fireballs seemed to be emanating from her eyes while her lips now just produced an unintelligible, snake-like hissing. “She's cursing,” Anna realized, while gradually returning to normal.
As she saw all the family heirlooms and savings on the mirror table, she was horrified, shifting her gaze from one policeman to the next in embarrassment:
“I nearly gave her everything on my own. My own stuff, my husband's, my daughter's…”
The two uniformed men picked up their money, car keys, condoms and documents from the table. The one in civvies nodded:
“Yes, this happens. You are not the first, nor the second, nor even the ninth; there were seventeen robberies like this in this week alone. And we always failed to hit this Rada, Magdalene, Cookie Monstress, Adeline of the Western Seas and what not. Every single time, she managed to vanish before we could get to the scene. The victims and witnesses could not explain anything clearly, nor describe the swindler; they just said she used hypnosis, charming everyone into giving up their valuables and the addresses of friends who are well off. Well, charms don't work on us, and as you see you got lucky: we have finally traced the she-devil. We were shadowing her on the street, saw her make a phone call and then go into your apartment. So we have her now, all proper, clear-faced and red-handed. Now we'll invite an experienced hypnosis doctor and, under his supervision, have the crook confront all the people she managed to clean out. I have to say that she raked out a lot of money and jewellery from them. Let's hope she had no time to push it off, and will soon hand everything back into the jewellery boxes, wardrobes and safes of decent, law-abiding people…”
The gypsy threw an angry look at the speaker and mumbled with her lips again. The policeman made a disgusted face.
“Cut it out with the hissing and spitting or you'll end up with more jail time, as we'll consider it an assault on police on duty.” Then he turned to Anna again: “You will need to come with us, in our car, to the police station. We have to document the situation properly, so I hope you can spare half an hour for us. Are you free right now? Any plans for today?”
Anna shrugged pensively:
“Free… Plans? A great cleanup was on the plans. Especially now, after so many guests, there is much fresh dirt in the house…”
The policeman in civvies smiled:
“That's very good thinking; cleanliness is next to godliness and a godly society is a lawful society. So come on with us and you'll help clean up the city.” He looked at his comrades and sighed: “Though, truth be told, we just caught yet another small fish, swiped a peck of dirt, so to say, from the honest citizens' table. We should really do a great cleanup of the entire residential area. So many swindlers, pimps, drug dealer have sprung up…”
“Yeah,” the moustached policeman with an officer's badge agreed, “Would be nice to nail Cocaine, that monopolist octopus. And also Valve”.
The other uniformed policeman chimed in:
“And what about Borscht? He's got pretty brazen now. Our agents tell us that, under the cover of a restaurant, he has set up a powerful drug lab and even a first-class torture facility, to whisk competitors over to his side.”
“So arrest them?” Anna enquired confusedly.
The man in civilian clothing sighed:
“It's not so simple. Unfortunately, the criminal world has its own intelligence service. Someone in our very own law enforcement circles is working for the gangsters. We carry out one action after another, yet we can never catch the big fish – they get warned and slink away in good time. We strive for search warrants, arrest warrants, achieve them, but find nothing and nobody. All our hard labour, all our ambushes, sleepless nights, shadowing – down a very stinky drain!”
The moustached policeman shook his head:
“Wish we could get the bastard working for the criminal world!”
The young one added:
“Wish we could get him and just hang him by you-don't-care-what right on the pull-up bar in the station yard. Just so everyone sees how the good honest people treat criminals!”
“Yup,” the moustached man supported him, “One would nearly think rough justice is the only option in this situation. Wish I could just burn down Borscht's lair with napalm, and give the others a good solid mob thrashing too, not bothering about judges and juries.”
“No, lads,” the elder man took the floor again, “Everything must happen according to the law. Of course, even with this gypsy, we could just…” He gave Anna a quick questioning look, “Now, what floor are we on?”
“Twelfth.”
He spent a moment estimating something, then nodded.
“That would suit just fine. So, we could just drop her from the balcony, and claim that she fell while attempting to escape.”
The gypsy woman's eyes, wide to start with, widened further at these words.
“No loss of time, no formalities, and most importantly no repeat offences; she would never again use her base skill to harm people. As it is, she will serve her well-deserved time and then go right back to her dirty business again. But we must,” he sighed, “we have to follow the law, so now we shall, all together, go to the station and draw up the protocol in regard of a crime,” For some reason, he glanced all over Anna, “Are you ready?”
She nodded:
“Yes, of course.”
The policeman kept a narrow gaze on her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Anna confirmed, though she did not understand the strange stare.
The guardian of the peace shrugged, turning his intent eyes away:
“Well, then, let's go.”
The gypsy was taken out of the apartment. Anna followed the others, just as she was – in a blue fluffy dressing-gown and red slippers with furry white poof-balls.
Anna and the elder policeman took the passenger lift down. The others brought the swindler to the exit in the bigger cargo one.
There was a police car at the apartment block entrance; the stripe on it was the same colour as Anna's dressing-gown. The policemen placed the gypsy in the back part, behind bars; Anna was welcomed into the front part as a regular passenger.
At the local police station they went together through several twisty corridors. Then the two armed policemen in uniform took the gypsy away somewhere. The third one, in civvies, pointed to a wooden bench, polished by the backsides of many people who spent time on it before:
“Please take a seat here. I will prepare the papers and call you up to sign them. Don't worry, we will formalize everything quickly, and you can go home soon enough. We'll take you there in our car, as fast as the blue flashing light…” He smiled: “The great cleanup won't be derailed.”
Anna looked at the bench. A girl clad in leather – pants, jacket, and boots – was half-sitting, half-laying on it, leaning on an armrest. Like Anna, she was a brunette of average height, build and breast size. They somehow resembled each other, except Anna was somewhat older and dressed in a “home casual” style.
The girl's eyes were closed.
“Er?..” Anna was lost for words after looking at her prospective bench mate.
The policeman frowned and waved his hand dismissively.
“A junkie. Probably stoned. Don't be afraid, she's not dangerous…”
Having said that, he disappeared behind one of the doors. Anna glanced cautiously at her new neighbour, then sighed and, despite her misgivings, sat down on the very edge of the bench. Thinking that she should probably tell her unsuspecting husband that she ended up at the police station, Anna probed into the pocket of the dressing-gown. Her phone was not there. It remained on the kitchen table…
Her quiet coexistence with her bench-mate lasted a few seconds. The girl suddenly started shaking. She sat up, clasped herself with her arms, then opened her eyes. Her gaze tossed about the corridor, doors, Anna. It seemed that the girl was trying but failing to control herself. The junkie quaked more and more, and then suddenly focused a threatening look at Anna:
“Give it to me, quick!”
“What?” Anna did not understand anything.
The girl's eyes flashed with fury:
“Whaddaya mean, what? The usual! Give it to me!”
“What's the usual? What do I give you?” Anna stayed confused.
The junkie appeared to burn through her with a laser gaze:
“You forgot, didn't you?”
Anna herself nearly started shaking from the girl's stare:
“I never even knew.”
The gaze slowly faded, then Anna's bench mate closed her eyes and frowned.
“Damn! Damn! Damn! That's not you!” She flung her eyelashes open again, turning her head in all directions. “And where are you then? Now, where are you? Where are you? Where?!”
A stream of very rude words followed. Then another, even stronger. After failing to find whoever she was looking for, the girl stared at Anna pleadingly:
“You sure you don't have any?”
By this time Anna knew exactly what the girl meant, so she shook her head softly:
“I'm sure I don't. I don't do drugs. Perhaps at a banquet I might have a bit of sweet liqueur or a glass of champagne.”
The girl continued with another dirty tirade, devoted to one of the natural events of human physiology. Then she froze for a second and started a feverish rummage of her own pockets. After fishing out some bits of paper, a few coins, but none of what she was looking for, she hugged herself again, trying to hold back and soften the shaking.
“Now, she's really…” Anna quietly pitied the girl, who suddenly beamed and, after a quick glance to the sides, unzipped her pants and pushed her hand behind the zipper. When she got it out again, Anna noticed a small shiny paper bag on the palm.
The girl on the bench flipped the content of the bag into her mouth, licked the paper and immediately closed her eyes in bliss. First the muscles of her neck turned off and her head fell onto her chest. Then her back relaxed; the girl started a slow slide from the bench onto the concrete floor.
Anna swooped up the junkie, trying to sit her down again, but the girl just kept sliding off. Then Anna laid her down on the bench, head on Anna's lap. Amazingly, the junkie's hair was clean and had a lovely smell. Her leather pants and jacket were new and expensive. A gold pin with a real diamond shone on the lap. Anna sighed, reminded of how she nearly lost all her jewellery and cash to a hypno swindler.
She glanced at the door were the policeman left, wondering how soon she'd be let go. If the procedure were to linger, not enough time might be left for a proper great cleanup. And Anna really wanted to achieve a perfectly organized house by the time her husband and kids came back; with everything sparkling and shiny, no longer annoying her, the true mistress.
Suddenly, the girl opened her eyes, smiled and said very clearly:
“You are so kind and nice… You're like Mommy… I remember her. She was so… so… like Mommy… and Dad, he… he would do to her… and she could not, she could not bear…” The girl shuddered. “You know, I don't have much time left, either. You think I like this? I am just blacking out the pain. Tomorrow, perhaps today, I'll kick the bucket.” She slowly moved her hand to her chest, pulled the pin out of the leather of the jacket and stuck it into the lapel of the blue dressing-gown. “It's a gift…”
Anna did not have time to answer, as the girl's eyes rolled, her lips frozen in a blissful smile, her body going completely limp. A blue vein on her neck pulsated quickly, then started to slow down.
Seeing that the blood in the girl's body was slowing its circulation, Anna struggled to understand whether her new acquaintance was just out for a while, or really dying in the arms of a stranger. Again, Anna glanced at the door where the policeman went; perhaps a doctor should be called?
She did not have time to decide that, either. The next moment, another event took all of her attention. There was some sort of rumble at the other end of the corridor and then grey smoke billowed from there, quickly filling every bit of space around her.
Anna had no idea what to do. Escape? But she would not leave the senseless girl in the apparent start of a fire. Yet she hardly had the strength to carry the limp body. Also, in this thick smoke, the woman would have to find any doors or walls by touch alone.
She still could not see an actual fire, but the smoke continued to thicken. Anna became scared. She never was in a fire before, or any smoke like this, and of course she did not have a gas mask on her. She started to think she would die here along with this done-for junkie.
Anna started to cough, growing weak. Her consciousness was leaving her. She still kept the girl's head in her lap, but started to slide down to the floor herself, saying a silent farewell to her husband and children. But she did not end up on the floor. Suddenly someone swooped her up and put her firmly onto the bench again. Anna saw a face before her eyes.
At first she thought that it was a hallucination, that she was now out completely, as there was just one huge eye on the man's face. Yet her lingering senses told her that the man now stooping over her was wearing a protective mask, designed to break through the smoke. To rescue people, to get those trapped by the fire out.
Her saviour bowed closer to Anna, nearly touching her face with his mask, then moved his head close to her gown-covered breast. He appeared to be inspecting the fire victim. It seemed to Anna that he was trying to work out whether she is alive, whether she needs to be carried out of the smoke-filled building. Pulling the last remains of her strength together, she shook her head, showing herself not dead yet, and at the same time pointed at the girl lying nearby.
The masked man nodded in understanding and lifted Anna in his arms. The junkie girl's head slid off her lap and hit the bench with a loud thump. The girl did not come to her senses, and the saviour did not notice her at all. He was quickly carrying Anna away, somewhere, into the smoke.
Highway star
She was quite exhausted, yet conscious. She heard some kind of voices, shouting, door slamming, then a strange hiss. And she could only see smoke. A thick smoke, hiding everything else.
For a short time the masked man strayed about the corridors. Then, after yet another turn, he bent down a bit and brought his rescue out from the smoke-filled building, right through a broken window. Upon feeling fresh air, Anna started to catch her breath, coughing, tears running from her smoke-irritated eyes. Because of the tears, everything around her was fuzzy. Anna still could not discern anything around herself, so she shut her eyes, trying to quiet them down and to regain her breath, to gather enough strength for standing up on her own.
Yet when Anna recovered her senses completely, it turned out that her saviour was no longer carrying her in his arms. Instead, she was sitting in front of him on a motorcycle, which started down the street at a crazy speed, weaving its way among the cars. “He is probably taking me to hospital,” she thought. “To the family doctor? Or the ophthalmologist? Hopefully not to the gynaecologist!”
Anna threw back her head to see the face of her saviour and to tell him that she did not need any doctors at all, that she was all right and it'd be better to just bring her home, to the unfinished great cleanup and coffee.
She did see his face, and she was abashed. Now the man had no mask on. She was amazed at the abyss of his blue eyes. It seemed that she could dive into them and resurface at some sultry Copacabana beach.
She also noticed how this smoothly shaved face was handsome like crazy. His proud curved nose inspired her, and the mane of light curly hair was pure rapture. She definitely saw this man before. A long, long time ago…
When Anna was in junior high school, her entire room was plastered in rock star posters. Among them was a calendar, sporting a huge photo of a motorcyclist with the very same blue eyes, proud curved nose and curly light hair waving in the breeze…
Anna ended up so carried away looking at her saviour that she forgot what she wanted to tell him. Noticing her gaze, he smiled, flashing level, perfectly matched snow-white teeth:
“So you've come round? Sorry that I had to smoke things up so much. But I wouldn't be able to get you out otherwise, way too many cops out there. And I couldn't even wait. I saw Borscht's car when I was coming up to the cop-shop. His men might have gotten to you first…”
Anna had no idea what her saviour was talking about, yet she still could not take her gaze off him. Seeing strain in her eyes, the tamer of the bike hastened to reassure her:
“My name is Herman. Don't worry, our mutual friend has sent me. He found out the cops grabbed you, so he asked me to help out. Very soon you will be completely safe.”
An answer like that, of course, ended up perplexing Anna even more. Which friend could have sent for her? Why would she need rescue from the police? It appeared that she was, actually, completely safe right there…
Yet Anna did not ask Herman anything. Her neck started to hurt and get numb, so she turned her head back to its natural position, looking at the road right before her and immediately becoming horrified. She did like the racer on the photo, but she never rode an actual motorcycle before. When she was not yet married, she refused guys who offered her rides. This contraption, normally driven by reckless youngsters who would periodically break their arms and legs, ending up walking around on crutches or even staying in bed in plaster casts for quite some time, never seemed reliable to her. So Anna never got further than some photo shoots in the saddle of a stationary motorbike. But now…
They have now left the normal city streets and were racing down a highway at an unbelievable speed, overtaking cars with ease. Anna kept closing her eyes tight, expecting the motorcycle to crash into a truck or van: “Now… no, right now!” Yet by some miracle she and Herman would slip through tiny openings between cars, dodging little bumpers and huge bumpers, trailers, flatbeds. The cars that they left behind kept beeping and flashing their lights, but her saviour did not mind this at all, he just raced and raced the motorcycle forward.
