Vladimir Orlov - Danilov the Violist

They put five tons of chewing gum on the list, and Danilov began trying to figure out which countries he would get it from. He would hold on to a couple of packs as a treat for Misha Muravlyov and some of the other kids. Karmadon insisted that as a souvenir he wanted an ice-skating announcer he liked, but Danilov figured he would just grab on to his mike and refuse to fly off. Karmadon was disappointed, but Danilov suggested replacing the announcer with the sheet attendant at the Maryinsky Baths, Uncle Narik, but then he remembered that Uncle Narik was Muslim and that he and Karmadon were not djins. Finally, he made up for the announcer with Kohoutek-Comet and Blue-Bull lollipops. Karmadon asked him to figure out something for the demonic ladies, and Danilov went all out! The ladies' departments, in the Paris stores Samaritaine, Monoprix, and Prisunic, were about to be emptied! And burned down, too! "I should send a few things to my friends," thought Danilov. "To Himeko and Anastasiya -- definitely! Even though Anastasiya won't accept anything from me now..." Danilov sighed. Also added to the list were Olympic-postmarked stamps; lava from Mount Tyatya; the cheerful bust of Gogol from his boulevard; edible seaweed in cans; four electric organs; a line at the Moskvar-etsk Department store; and the Rostokinsky Aqueduct... the list had fifteen more items.

Actually, thought Danilov, they shouldn't take the Rostokinsky Aqueduct. It should be left in place. It was nice to look at. And it served the city well. It had been there two hundred years. He wanted to replace it with the open-air Moskva Pool, which was responsible for mildewing paintings and books nearby, but he would regret taking the pool as well.

Karmadon seemed pleased with his souvenirs. That made Danilov happy. He realized that it wouldn't hurt to put an Albani viola on the list and then forget to send it off with Karmadon's things. "No, never." Danilov stopped himself. "You sneak!" he said and wagged a finger at himself.

Karmadon grew serious and haughty again. As befitted a demon of the seventh rank.

"We have the whole day ahead of us," Danilov said. "How do you plan to spend it?"

"Carousing," Karmadon said.

But his voice was devoid of any sweet anticipation of pleasure; he spoke coldly, firmly, as if by carousing he meant not Persian dances and smashing glasses but taking medications and reading ancient manuscripts. Perhaps he wanted to show that he was his own master now and could manage without guides or cronies. Danilov sensed a gulf between them again and regretted his own naпvetй. "Well, let him carouse," he thought, "alone or with whomever he wants..."

"Zemsky and the plumber will be here soon," Karmadon said. "And we'll be off..."

"Where to?"

"The Paveletsky Train Station."

But the first to drop by was neither Zemsky nor Kilya but Kudasov. His whiskers were twitching, and it was obvious he had been drawn to Danilov's apartment with high, albeit vague, hopes elicited by Karmadon's plans. "How did he know?" Danilov wondered. Kudasov was meek and nervous; something made him wary and frightened. Yet some passion stronger than his will picked him up and brought him here.

By noon Zemsky and the plumber Kolya had arrived.

They took a table for six at the restaurant at the Paveletsky Station. Karmadon was in charge. They were seeing him off, drinking to Irkutsk and the Siberian expanses -- even though Tambov and Saratov were more appropriate toasts at this terminus. After the first few rounds of vodka, it became apparent that Karmadon's prodigal friends were growing intoxicated faster than could be expected, either because they had gotten a head start the night before or because of the air at the Paveletsky Station. Danilov did not want to drink at all, and after observing the rather unpleasant coldness in Karmadon's eyes, he had determined to stay in control of himself. But Karmadon whispered imperiously in his ear:

"Danilov, don't switch cards on me! Don't try to stay more sober than the others ... or I'll have to think that you don't trust me, and I'll be insulted."

Danilov did not trust Karmadon at the moment. However, he did not want Karmadon to be unhappy with him. "Well, all right!" Danilov thought. "So I'll satisfy his whims on his last day, and then I'll be done with him... And I'll accept their conditions ... What do I care which Chancery I'm under?" Danilov had long thought it was important to remain yourself in the important matters while compromising in trifles. There were lots of trifles, they were obvious and therefore seemed important. But only one thing was important, and it was deep inside. Let them think that he was obedient. He was still the same Danilov, and he would not change.

They progressed to the restaurant at the Riga Station and then at the Kursk Station. When and how Karmadon had developed a taste for railroad cuisine, Danilov did not know, and asking him now seemed impolite. Then for some reason they ate standing up in the yellow snack bar at the Butovo Station. They ate from plastic plates, mostly hard-boiled eggs and herring on black bread. They drank Northern Lights and three bottles of sixty-two-proof vodka. Karmadon had picked the bottles up from the floor, supposedly from behind his trouser legs. The other Butovo connoisseurs wondered where they got vodka on a Sunday. Danilov explained that it came from the platform of the Katuar Savelovskaya line; they were selling it there. The connoisseurs rushed off ... Suddenly Danilov realized that they were munching on sprats at the Lvov Station buffet now, not at Butovo.

In Karmadon's eyes, and in his lips when he was thinking and not chewing, there was something mischievous, secretive. There was disdain and there was scorn.

Danilov drank against his will. He drank, but still noticed how Karmadon was looking at women. His eyes were hungry, thirsty. At certain moments, especially when the barmaid's ample bosom floated above the beer foam, Karmadon's eyes reflected such arousal it seemed his blood was seething. Many women came into Karmadon's field of vision, but barmaids and waitresses interested him most of all, it seemed. Karmadon's whole being demanded satisfaction and revenge.

"Andrei Ivanovich," Zemsky said, nudging Karmadon at the snack bar at the Sharapova Okhota platform, "don't miss your chance! She's really making eyes at you! Look, she even gave you an extra piece of cheese on your plate... Don't be shy, go after her!"

"No," Karmadon said softly. "She's pretty... but my heart belongs to a lady. She alone and no one else for me ... but that will be later!"

Something made Danilov very uneasy.

However, their voyage turned into such a whirlwind, such a confused mess that there was no room for thoughts of women in Danilov's head. Maybe this was Karmadon's idea of carousal -- more drinking, more eating, more singing, more traveling, and then staying put. One restaurant car closed down because of them, and it had had enough food to get all the way to the Mineral Water Spa Station in the Caucasus. Two Blue Danubes closed on the Kazan line. "Where is he putting it all? Where are we? All right, let him ... But what are we doing?" Danilov shook his head, but still he swallowed a boiled egg. Kudasov had two. A freight train carrying pigs headed for the Podolsk Meat Combine passed by. "Well, they're going to lose one car!" thought Danilov. His guess must have been right, because a huge quantity of plates with pork sausages appeared -- obviously from the passing train.

"I wish we could live here!" Karmadon said unexpectedly.

"Where here?"

"Right here," Karmadon said, looking around the walls of the dining car. "On Earth. Just like the plumber Kolya ..."

Kolya, who was nearby, perked up and started singing.

"What do you mean?" Danilov asked.

"Just that," Karmadon said with a sigh.