“Slower...don’t gun it...” Gorbovets fiddled nervously with his beard.
“Is it very painful, Ural?” Rutman spoke the new name with pleasure.
“Very...Oooowww!” The young man groaned and cried out.
“That’s all, that’s it. No more bumps from here on,” said Uranov. He drove on, carefully.
The car emerged onto Yaroslav Highway. It turned and took off toward Moscow.
“You’re a student,” said Rutman affirmatively. “Moscow University, the journalism school.”
The young man moaned in response.
“I studied too. In the economics department of the Pedagogical Institute.”
“Whoa, man alive!” Gorbovets pulled on his nose. “Messed yourself didja! Got scared, little one!”
A slight smell of excrement came from Lapin.
“That’s completely normal.” Uranov squinted at the road.
“When they hit me, I squeezed out some brown cheese, too.” Rutman looked straight at the young man’s thin face. “And I let go a stream of hot water, quietly. It was great. But you...” She touched him between the legs. “You’re dry in front. Are you Armenian?”
The boy shook his head.
“But there is something from the Caucasus?” She ran her finger down Lapin’s hook nose. “Maybe from the Baltics — no? You have a beautiful nose.”
“Don’t come on to him, you horny she-goat, he don’t care about his nose right now,” Gorbovets grumbled.
“Okam, call the clinic,” Uranov ordered.
Rutman took out a cell phone and dialed.
“It’s us. We have a brother. Twenty. Yes. Yes. How long? Well, in about...”
“Twenty-five minutes,” Uranov said.
“We’ll be there in half an hour. Yes.”
She put the cell phone away.
Lapin leaned his head against her shoulder. Closed his eyes. He sank into oblivion.
They drove up to the clinic: 7 Novoluzhnetsky Prospect.
They stopped at the guard booth. Uranov showed his pass, then drove up to a three-story building. Behind the glass doors stood two hefty orderlies in blue robes...
Uranov opened the car door. The assistants ran over with a gurney. They lifted Lapin out of the car. He woke up and moaned feebly. They placed him on the stretcher. Strapped him down. Rolled him inside the clinic door.
Rutman and Gorbovets remained by the car. Uranov followed the stretcher.
A doctor was waiting for them at reception: a plump, stooped man with thick graying hair, gold-rimmed glasses, a meticulously trimmed beard, and a blue robe.
He stood next to the wall, smoking. He held an ashtray.
The orderlies rolled the bed up to him.
“The usual?” asked the doctor.
“Yes,” said Uranov, looking down at his own beard.
“Complications?”
“It appears the chest bone cracked.”
“How long ago?” The doctor took the towel off Lapin’s chest.
“About...forty minutes ago.”
A female assistant ran in: medium height, chestnut hair, a serious, high-cheekboned face.
“Excuse me, Semyon Ilich.”
“Okay, then...” The doctor stubbed out his butt and set the ashtray on the windowsill. He leaned over Lapin, touching the swollen, bright purple chest. “Right, first of all: our cocktail here is glowing in the fog. Take care of him. Then do an X-ray. And then bring him to me.”
He turned sharply and headed for the doors.
“Should I stay?” asked Uranov.
“No need to. Come back in the morning.” The doctor left.
The assistant tore open a hypodermic. She attached the needle, broke two ampoules, and drew the liquid into the hypodermic.
Uranov ran his hand over Lapin’s cheek. Lapin opened his eyes. He raised his head, looked around, and coughed. Then he jerked away from the stretcher.
The orderlies fell on him.
“Nnnnooo! Nnnnno! Nnnooo!” he cried hoarsely.
They held him down to the bed. Began to undress him. The odor of fresh excrement rose from him. Uranov exhaled.
Lapin wheezed and cried.
One orderly wound a tourniquet around Lapin’s thin forearm. The assistant leaned over it with the needle.
“There’s no need to suffer...”
“I want to call hooooome...” Lapin whined.
“You’re already home, brother,” said Uranov, smiling.
The needle entered the vein.
Mair
Lapin awoke at three in the afternoon. He lay in a small twin bed. The ceiling was white. The walls were white. There were semitransparent white curtains on the window. On a white bedside table with bent legs was a vase with a spray of white lilies and a white fan, turned off.
Next to the window, sitting on a white chair, was a nurse: 24 years old, slim, fair hair cut short, blue eyes, large glasses with silver frames, a short white jacket, pretty legs.
The nurse was reading the magazine OM.
Lapin squinted to look at his chest. It was bound in a white elastic bandage. Smooth. You could see a gauze bandage under it.
Lapin took his hand out from under the blanket. He touched the bandage.
The nurse noticed. She placed the magazine on the windowsill, stood up, and walked over to him.
“Good day, Ural.”
She was tall. Her blue eyes looked at him attentively through her glasses. Her full lips smiled.
“I’m Kharo,” she said.
“What?” Lapin unstuck his cracked lips.
“I’m Kharo.” She sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy?”
Lapin looked at her hair. He remembered everything.
“I’m, I’m still here?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“You’re in the clinic.” She took his hand. She pressed her warm, soft finger to his wrist and took his pulse.
Lapin breathed in cautiously. Breathed out. There was a dull, weak ache in his chest, but no pain. He swallowed some saliva. Frowned. His throat burned. It hurt to swallow.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes, something.”
“Juice, water?”
“Orange...juice...Is there orange juice?”
“Of course.”
She reached over Lapin. Her snow-white robe rustled and Lapin smelled her perfume. He looked at the open collar of the robe. A smooth, pretty neck. A birthmark just above the collarbone. A thin gold chain.
He turned his eyes to the right. There was a narrow table with drinks. She filled a glass with yellow juice, wrapped it in a napkin, and offered it to Lapin.
He turned over.
With her left hand the nurse helped him to sit up. His head touched the white headboard. He took the glass from her hands and drank.
“You aren’t cold, are you?” She smiled. She looked straight at him.
“No. What time is it?”
“Three,” the nurse said, glancing at her thin watch.
“I have to call home.”
“Of course.”
She took a cell phone out of her pocket.
“Drink up. Then you can call.”
Lapin drank half a cup greedily. He exhaled, licked his lips.
“You’re thirsty now.”
“That’s for sure. And you...” he said, using the formal form.
“Use the familiar with me.”
“And you...you’ve been here a long time?”
“In what sense?”
“Well, I mean, working?”
“This is my second year.”
“Who are you?”
“Me?” She smiled even more broadly. “I’m a nurse.”
“And what is this...a hospital or something?”
“A rehabilitation center.”
“Who’s it for?” He looked at her birthmark.
“For us.”
“Who’s...us?”
“The awakened people.”<
br />
Lapin grew silent. He finished off the juice.
“Some more?”
“A little.” He held out the glass.
She filled it up, and he drank half.
“I don’t want any more.”
She took away the glass and put it on the little table. Lapin nodded at the cell phone.
“May I?”
“Of course.” She handed it to him. “Go on and talk. I’ll go out.”
She stood and left immediately.
Lapin dialed his parents’ number, coughed. His father picked up.
“Yes.”
“Pop, it’s me.”
“Where’d you disappear to?”
“Well, um...” He touched the bandage on his chest. “You see...”
“What do I see? Did something happen?”
“Well...um...”
“In trouble again? In the slammer?”
“No, not that...”
“Where are you?”
“Well, me and Golovastik went to a concert yesterday. At Gorbushka. Well, um, and I ended up staying at his place.”
“And you couldn’t call?”
“Um, well, we...got busy...his place is a mess...”
“Drinking again?”
“No, no, we just had a little beer.”
“Dumbbells. We’re about to have dinner. Are you coming?”
“I...well, we want to go for a walk.”
“Where?”
“In the park...near him. He wants to take the dog out.”
“Your choice. We’ve got chicken with garlic. We’ll eat it all up.”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t get stuck there.”
“I won’t...”
Lapin turned the cell off. He touched his neck and threw back the blanket. He was naked.
“Shii...where’s my underwear?” He touched his penis.
He felt a sharp pain in his chest and gritted his teeth. Pressed his hand against the bandage.
“Goddamn...”
The nurse opened the door cautiously.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes...” He hurriedly pulled the covers back over him.
She entered.
“Where’s my clothes?” Lapin frowned. He rubbed the splint.
“Does it hurt?” She sat down on the edge of the bed again.
“I got a twinge...”
“You have a small fracture in your chest bone. You’ll have to keep it strapped. You may get a sharp pain from lifting or turning. Until it heals. That’s normal. They don’t put casts on the chest.”
“Why not?” He sniffed.
“Because people need to breathe,” she smiled.
“Where’re my clothes?” he asked again.
“Are you cold?”
“No...it’s just, I...I don’t like to sleep naked.”
“Really?” She looked at him sincerely. “I’m the opposite. I can’t go to sleep if I have something on. Even a chain.”
“A chain?”
“Uh-huh. See...” She stuck her hand behind the lapel of her robe and pulled out a chain with a tiny gold comet. “I always take it off at night.”
“Interesting.” Lapin grinned. “You’re so sensitive.”
“People should sleep naked.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re born naked and die naked.”
“But they don’t end up naked. They’re in a suit. And a coffin.”
She put the chain back.
“People don’t put the suit on themselves. And they don’t lie down in the coffin on their own.”
Lapin said nothing. He looked to the side.
“Do you want to eat?”
“I want...I have to...I need my clothes — and to go to the bathroom.”
“Urinate?”
“Yeah...”
“There’s no problem with that.” She leaned over. Pulled a white plastic bedpan out from under the bed.
“No way...I don’t...” Lapin gave a crooked smile.
“Relax.” She moved the bedpan under the covers with a quick, professional gesture.
The cool plastic touched Lapin’s ribs. Her hand took his penis, directed it into the opening.
“Listen...” He pulled his knees up. “I’m not paralyzed or anything...”
Her free hand stopped his knees. Pressed. Pushed them down on the bed.
“There’s no problem here,” she said softly and emphatically.
Lapin laughed, embarrassed. He looked at the copy of OM, then at the lily in the vase.
Half a minute passed.
“Ural? Do you want to go or not?” she asked with soft reproach.
Lapin’s face grew serious. He blushed slightly. His penis jerked. Urine silently flowed into the bedpan. The nurse held his penis in place.
“There you go. So simple. You’ve never urinated into a bedpan?”
Lapin shook his head. The urine flowed.
The nurse reached over with her free hand. Took a napkin from the drinks table.
Lapin bit his lip and inhaled carefully.
The stream stopped. The nurse wrapped his penis in the napkin. She carefully removed the warm bedpan from under the blanket, placed it under the bed, and wiped off his penis.
“Were you born with blue eyes?” she asked.
“Yes.” He looked up at her from under his brow.
“Well, I was born with gray eyes. And till the age of six I was gray-eyed. Then my father took me to his factory. To show me some marvelous machine that assembled clocks. And when I saw it, I froze in delight. The way it worked was so amazing! I don’t know how long I stood there: an hour, two...I came home, fell sound asleep. And the next morning my eyes had turned blue.”
Lapin’s penis began to tense.
“Black eyelashes. And eyebrows,” she said, examining him. “You probably like gentle things.”
“Gentle?”
“Gentle, tender things. Do you?”
“I...well...” He swallowed.
“Have you had women?”
He laughed nervously. “Girls. Have you had women?”
“No. I’ve only had men,” she answered calmly, letting go of his penis. “Before. Before I woke up.”
“Before?”
“Yes. Before. Now I don’t need men. I need brothers.”
“What does that mean?” He pulled his knees up, hiding his hardening penis.
“Sex — is an illness. Fatal. And all humankind is infected with it.” She put the napkin in the pocket of her robe.
“Really? That’s interesting...” Lapin grinned. “And what about — gentle things? You were just talking about it?”
“You know, Ural, there’s tenderness of the body. But that is nothing compared to tenderness of the heart. The awakened heart. And you are going to feel this now.”
The door opened.
A woman came in dressed in a white terry-cloth robe: 38 years old, medium height, plump, light brown hair, blue eyes, her face round, not pretty, smiling, calm.
Lapin pressed his shaking knees to his chest. Reached out for the blanket. But the blanket was down at his feet.
The nurse stood up. Walked over to the woman. They kissed each other on the cheek solicitously.
“I see that you’ve already met.” The woman who had entered looked at Lapin with a smile. “Now it’s my turn.”
The nurse left. She pulled the door closed silently after her.
The woman looked at Lapin.
“Hello, Ural,” she said.
“Hello...” He glanced aside.
“I’m Mair.”
“Mayor? Of what?”
“Of nothing.” She smiled. “Mair is my name.”
She threw off her robe. Naked, she walked over to Lapin and stretched out her plump hand.
“Stand up, please.”
“Why?” Lapin looked up at her large, pendulous breasts.
“I beg of you. Don’t be embarrassed by me.”
“Hey, I
could care less. Only...give me my clothes back.”
Lapin stood up. He placed his hands on his rickety hips.
She stepped toward him. Carefully embraced him and pressed her chest to his.
Lapin laughed nervously, turning his face away.
“Hey lady, I’m not gonna screw you.”
“And I’m not proposing you do,” she said. She stood motionless.
Lapin let out a bored sigh.
“Are you gonna give me my clothes back, huh?”
And suddenly he shuddered. His entire body twitched. He stood stock-still.
They were both transfixed. They stood, embracing. Their eyes were closed.
They stood motionless for forty-two minutes.
Mair shuddered and sobbed. She released her hands. Lapin fell powerlessly out of her embrace onto the floor. He jerked convulsively. Clenched and unclenched his teeth. With a sob he greedily gulped the air. He sat up and opened his eyes. He stared vacantly at the leg of the bed. His cheeks were aflame.
Mair picked up her robe and put it on. She placed her small plump palm on Lapin’s head.
“Ural.”
She turned and left the room.
The nurse entered holding Lapin’s clothes. She squatted down next to Lapin.
“How are you?”
“Okay.” He ran a trembling hand down his face. “I really want...um...to...I want...”
“Does your chest hurt?”
“A little...kind of...I...um...”
“Get dressed.” The nurse stroked his shoulder.
Lapin reached to pull his jeans over. A pair of underwear was underneath. New. Not his.
He felt them.
“Ma’am...I mean, did you...”
“What?” asked the nurse. “Should I turn around?”
“Did you...what?” He sniffed.
He looked at her, as though seeing her for the first time. His fingers trembled slightly.
The nurse stood up and moved away to the window. She drew back the curtain. She gazed at the bare branches outside.
Lapin stood up with some difficulty. Stumbling and stepping back, he put on the underwear. Then the jeans. He took the black T-shirt. It was new, too. Instead of WWW.FUCK.RU, this one said BASIC. Also in red.
“But why...this?” His fingers scrunched the new T-shirt.
The nurse looked around.
“Put it on. It’s all yours.”
He looked at the T-shirt. Then he put it on. He went for the jacket. His things were lying on it: keys, student ID, wallet. The wallet was unusually thick.
Lapin picked it up. He opened it. It was stuffed with money: five-hundred-ruble notes, dollars, too.
Ice Trilogy Page 28
