Sergey Dovlatov - The Suitcase / Чемодан. Книга для чтения на английском языке

You can divide the world into two kinds of people: those who ask, and those who answer. Those who pose questions, and those who frown in irritation in response.

Asya’s friends did not ask her questions. And all I ever did was ask, “Where were you? Who did you meet in the subway? Where did you get that French perfume?”

Most people consider problems whose solutions don’t suit them to be insoluble. And they constantly ask questions to which they don’t need truthful answers.

To cut a long story short, I was meddlesome and stupid.

I acquired debts. They grew in geometric progression. By November they had reached eighteen roubles – a monstrous sum in those days. I learnt about pawnshops with their stubs and receipts, their atmosphere of dejection and poverty.

When Asya was near I couldn’t think about it. But as soon as we said goodbye, the thought of my debts floated in like a black cloud. I awoke with a sense of impending disaster. It took me hours just to convince myself to get dressed. I seriously planned holding up a jewellery store. I was convinced that all the thoughts of a pauper in love were criminal.

By then my academic success had diminished noticeably. Asya hadn’t been an outstanding student to begin with. The deans began talking about our moral image. I noticed that when a man is in love and he has debts, his moral image becomes a topic of conversation.

In short, everything was horrible.

Once I was wandering around town looking for six roubles. I had to get my winter coat out of hock. And I ran into [11] to run into (smb) – случайно встретить Fred Kolesnikov.

Fred was smoking, leaning against the brass rail of the Eliseyev Store. I knew he was a black marketeer [12] black marketeer – фарцовщик (фарцовка – сленговое название запрещённой в СССР покупки или перепродажи импортных товаров) . Asya had introduced us once. He was a tall young man, about twenty-three years old, with an unhealthy complexion. As he spoke, he smoothed his hair nervously.

Without a second thought, I went over to him. “Could you lend me six roubles until tomorrow?” I tried to act pushy when I borrowed money, so that people could turn me down easily.

“Without a doubt,” said Fred, taking out a small, square wallet.

I regretted not asking for more.

“Take more,” said Fred.

Like a fool, I protested.

Fred looked at me curiously.

“Let’s have lunch,” he said. “My treat.”

His demeanour was simple and natural. I always envied people who could be that way.

We walked three blocks to the Chayka restaurant. It was empty. The waiters were smoking at a side table. The windows were wide open. The curtains swayed in the breeze.

We decided to go to the far corner. A young man in a silvery Dacron [13] Dacron – дакрон, название полиэстеровой материи jacket stopped Fred. They had a rather mysterious conversation.

“Greetings.”

“My respects,” said Fred.

“Well?”

“Nothing.”

The young man’s eyebrows rose in disappointment. “Absolutely nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“But I asked you.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“But can I count on it?”

“Indubitably.”

“It would be good sometime this week.”

“I’ll try.”

“What about a guarantee?”

“No guarantees. But I’ll try.”

“Will it be a label?”

“Naturally.”

“So, call me.”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember my phone number?”

“Unfortunately I don’t.”

“Please write it down.”

“With pleasure.”

“Even though this is not a conversation for the phone.”

“I agree.”

“Maybe you’ll just come by with the wares?”

“Gladly.”

“Do you remember my address?”

“Afraid not…”

And so on.

We went to the far corner. The clear folds of the ironing showed on the tablecloth. The cloth was rough.

Fred said, “See that wannabe? A year ago he ordered a set of Delbanas with a cross-”

I interrupted him. “What are Delbanas with a cross?”

“Watches,” Fred replied. “It’s not important. I brought him the goods at least ten times. He wouldn’t take them. He came up with a new excuse each time. In the end, he never did take them. I kept thinking, ‘What’s he playing at?’ And suddenly I realized that he didn’t want to buy my watches, he just wanted to feel like a businessman who needed a shipment of brand-name goods. He wanted an excuse to keep asking me, ‘How is our arrangement?’”

The waitress took our order. We lit up our cigarettes and I asked, “Couldn’t you be arrested?”

Fred thought about it and replied calmly, “It’s not out of the question. I’ll be sold out by my own people,” he added without anger.

“Then maybe you should stop?”

He frowned. “I used to work as a shipping clerk [14] shipping clerk – экспедитор .

I lived on ninety roubles a month…” Then he suddenly stood up and shouted, “It’s a farce!”

“Prison isn’t any better.”

“What can I do? I have no talents. I refuse to cripple myself for ninety roubles. Well, all right, so I’ll eat two thousand hamburgers in my lifetime. Wear out twenty-five dark-grey suits. Leaf through seven hundred issues of the local newspaper. And die without scratching the earth’s surface. Is that it?. I’d rather live only a minute, but live it right!”

Our food and drink was brought.

My new friend continued to philosophize. “There’s nothing before our birth but an abyss, and there’s only an abyss after our death. Our life is but a grain of sand in the indifferent ocean of infinity. So let’s try to keep the moment from boredom and despair! Let’s try to leave a scratch on the earth’s crust. Let the average Joe [15] average Joe – средний человек pull the load. He’s not going to perform miracles. Or even commit crimes…”

I almost shouted at Fred, “Then why don’t you perform any miracles!” But I controlled myself. He was paying for the drinks.

We spent about an hour in the restaurant. Then I said, “Time to go. The pawnshop will close.”

And then Fred Kolesnikov made me an offer. “Want to get in on the share? I work carefully, I don’t take hard currency [16] hard currency – ( зд. ) иностранная валюта or gold. You’ll improve your finances and then you can quit. How about it? Let’s have a drink now and talk tomorrow.”

The next day I thought my pal would stand me up, but Fred was merely late. We met near the idle fountain in front of the Astoria Hotel. Then we went off into the bushes. Fred said, “Two Finnish women will be here in a minute with the goods. Grab a cab and go with them to this address.”

He handed me a scrap of newsprint and went on. “Rymar will meet you. Easy to recognize – he’s got the face of an idiot and an orange sweater. I’ll be there after ten minutes. Everything will be OK!”

“But I don’t speak Finnish.”

“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is to smile. I’d go myself, but they know me here…” Fred suddenly grabbed my hand. “There they are! Go to it!”

And he disappeared into the bushes.

I went to meet the two women, feeling terribly nervous. They looked like peasants, with broad, tanned faces. They were wearing light raincoats, elegant shoes and bright kerchiefs. Each carried a shopping bag as swollen as a soccer ball.

Gesticulating wildly, I finally led the women to the taxi stand. There was no line. I kept repeating, “Mr Fred, Mr Fred,” and plucked at one woman’s sleeve.