БУКВИТЕ - САЙТЪТ ЗА НОВА БЪЛГАРСКА ЛИТЕРАТУРА

Another silent night (amusing)

Кирил Петков Влахов (декадента)

Раздел: Проза на чужд език  Цикъл:

That happened on another winter day. We (this time mother and father came to spend a weekend at the peaceful and quiet village) did a lot of work during the day with the only intention to get tired in the evening and sleep well. The type of work didn’t matter, as long as it was physical. While mother was cleaning the yard, father was digging the snow (you probably think shovel would be the correct word, but that’s only because you weren’t there to see what he was doing) from the street in front of us. And I … I had taken up a thousand works – looking for eggs, chopping wood, feeding the chickens, playing with the dog (you already know Jana) and preparing the “miracle” – a kind of stove used for warming which rather looks like a large tube than a stove. But if you ask more persistently what exactly I was doing, I will find myself in a difficult situation. I can say I was chopping wood while playing with the dog, looking for eggs from time to time and feeding the chickens when resting. As expected, I did a very small quantity of work from what I had taken up, but considering the big number, it wasn’t so little. However, I got very tired. We ate and went to bed almost immediately. We were so sure we would have a good night sleep. But we didn’t realize how ridiculous this supposition was… … In exactly two o’clock I suddenly woke up. To prevent you from imaging all possible kinds of noise, I’ll tell you the true reason right away – everything was quiet. The silence was unique as never before, that’s why we thought we could sleep well. The reason for my sudden wakening was an ordinary thirst. “No problem. – I thought – I’ll get the bottle from the bedside table which is right next to my head.” And I started the necessary preparations to fulfill this simple intention, which consisted of reaching out a hand in a very lazy manner. I don’t think you can imagine my astonishment when I didn’t find the bottle. But that was only the beginning. I tried to go back to sleep without drinking anything. While I was turning to the left and to the right, I couldn’t help deriding my first words. After a few minutes it became perfectly clear to me that I won’t go back to sleep if I don’t drink something. So I got up as quietly as I could, having in mind the fact that my parents were there with the one and only intention to sleep. As you well understand, I couldn’t just turn the lights on, so I had to move in a complete darkness. I was totally impressed by the complete silence. A few things bumped into my foot, but producing too weak sound to wake anybody up. Finally, I reached the table. Success! But it was too early for celebration – I had to find the bottle (it was a ten litter bottle). …Two hands were groping about in the dark, touching everything they can. Suddenly one of them was pulled very quickly and the other was put over it. I wanted to scream so badly, that a little tear appeared in my right eye. I instantly removed the needle from my palm which didn’t lighten the pain a bit. I spent the next two minutes pressing my lips with a little help of the hand that wasn’t damaged. (You probably thing this is silly, but I’ll ask you again when a three inch needle is stuck in your palm.) After I overcame the primary psychological shock, I was able to think logically. My conscious gave me a sincere warning that if I try to do that again, I’ll surely make the same dull mistake which will lead to unwanted results. … One dark figure was waving in the middle of one small room, over a table. For an unprejudiced viewer it was more than obvious that this person is fully prepared for the white house – as they call the clinics. These gestures stopped much earlier than expected. I waved till my both hands gone tired. I then assumed a position of a man who doesn’t know what to do. A few minutes passed. My coordinates weren’t changed, as well as my intention to find the bottle, without weakening my parents. While I was looking through the curtain of the window, at the full white moon, I was carefully bringing back the last details from that evening. I then remembered. … The familiar figure suddenly made a 180º turn. It could belong to an ancient warrior who carefully moves in the night, trying to surprise the enemy… Well, the bottle was surely surprised when I quickly removed the cap and raised it to the level of my mouth (I was fully aware of the fact that there was absolutely no chance to find a glass). If in that very moment, a creature from outer space, whose atmosphere was from acids and is deadly afraid of water, could see me, it was surely going to be surprised, too. But nothing in the world can even at least compare to my surprise when the water pressure became too big for my lips to hold. Everything happened so fast that I’ll have to slow it to the speed of the Matrix (“time for bullets”). Imagine me with a ten litter bottle. Then me again, but with a little stream of water running down my left cheek. In the next moment the streams had become two and spread all around my pyjamas. After that, the sound of a drowning man (something like “glrhuuglhu”) followed by an instinct convulsion of both hands. Then imagine a bottle with approximate weight of nine kilograms (I’ve measured it), left in the hands of gravitation, but in three stages – first, the streams all over me and the nearest (my fathers) bed sheet; second the quiet “Wops”, which expressed my big regret when the bottle was less than a centimeter from the ground; and, of course, the third and final stage – the loudest possible bang I’ve ever heard in my life (maybe because my senses made it even louder) I think I’ll stop right here. My parents’ reaction is not for the normal reader. He is neither interested in Indian war-cries, nor in 99 million ways of expressing anger, particularly by speech. I won’t even try to describe the setting in the room after the little incident, though a comparison with a lake is certainly suitable. In conclusion, I would like to say only one sentence: Don’t ever, I repeat – ever, try to make anything quiet, it’s only a waste of time, energy and nerves (and privileges, too!).
2005-06-12