Impossible Stories II

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Impossible Stories II Page 9

by Zoran Zivkovic


  “I couldn’t.”

  “The record is just six seconds! And that happened even though the ticket-collector was experienced, prepared for the danger that threatened him, and even wearing very dark glasses. None of that helped. He suddenly stiffened and started waving spectators into the circus without checking their tickets. If we hadn’t intervened at once, who knows how many people could have slipped in. Maybe even half the tent.”

  “That many?”

  “Yes. Here again, unfortunately, there’s not much we can do in the legal sense. How can you prove hypnosis where it leaves no trace? As soon as the spectators entered without tickets, the ticket-collector snapped out of it, but couldn’t remember a thing. Luckily, we heard about a simple way to put an end to this nuisance. With the help of hamsters.”

  “Hamsters?”

  “That’s right. You might not have noticed, but white hamsters always turn the wheel in their cage counterclockwise. No one knows the reason why, but it makes no difference. In any case, if we put a cage with a white hamster next to the ticket-collector, at the slightest attempt to hypnotize him the hamster immediately changes the direction of the spin. It’s enough to have someone keep an eye on the hamster and the problem is solved. It’s a highly reliable warning system.”

  The visitor sank into silence. I waited several moments for him to continue, but when he didn’t I asked, “Is that what you wanted to tell me about?”

  “Oh, no. That was just in passing, to introduce myself properly. Anyone who’s done my job fears they won’t be taken seriously. I trust it wasn’t too boastful.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Very good. Then I’ll get to the point.”

  He didn’t start right away. He paused briefly, as though collecting his thoughts.

  “I dreamed about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Don’t be surprised. From time to time I dream about people I don’t know. I can’t explain why this happens. Surely there must be a reason.”

  “Surely.”

  “It was a very mysterious dream, as you will see for yourself. Do you mind if I tell it to you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You were in a cabin on a ship. It was the dead of night and you were asleep. You were suddenly awakened by alarm bells. You jumped out of bed. In your initial confusion you couldn’t remember where to turn on the light. The siren kept on wailing. Finally you turned on the light on the bedside table and put on your glasses.”

  “I don’t wear glasses.”

  “You wore them in my dream. You quickly took off your pajamas and got dressed. As you were putting on your shoes, the alarm stopped ringing. You didn’t know what this meant or what was the best thing to do. You even thought of going back to bed, but then you felt the ship start to rock. You decided to go out of your cabin and see what was going on.”

  “Why didn’t I call the ship’s officers on the phone?”

  “I don’t know. You expected to find lots of agitated passengers in the hallway, but no one was there. You headed for the deck. You had to hold onto the handrail on the wall because the ship was rocking more and more. You passed through a series of empty hallways and finally came out onto the deck. What you saw there confused you. Above you was the clear night sky sprinkled with a multitude of stars, without a breath of wind. The sea was stormy nonetheless. Huge waves were rolling all around.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “It’s possible in a dream. A wave poured over the deck and drenched you. The water was very cold. Soaked through and through, you went back into the hallway and closed the door behind you. You had to rush back to your cabin and change clothes. You headed back, but after the third turn you realized that you were lost.”

  “On top of everything else.”

  “That’s nothing. Your real troubles have yet to come. Just a moment later the lights went out in the hallway, and somewhere from the direction of the deck came the crash of a door breaking and the roar of water gushing inside. You stood there in the darkness frightened, not knowing what to do.”

  “It wasn’t easy for me.”

  “Not at all. Your situation seemed hopeless. But then a glimmer of hope appeared. You could already hear the water not far behind when a thin strip of light appeared under one of the doors in front of you. You headed in that direction, holding your hands stretched out in front of you so you wouldn’t run into someone in the pitch black.”

  “But the hallways were empty.”

  “They were, that’s right, but someone might have appeared. You couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t. In any case, you didn’t come across any obstacles on the way to the door with the light under it. You stopped in front of it. Good manners required that you knock at least, even though the wall of gushing water was already at your heels.”

  “I wouldn’t think twice in such a situation.”

  “Well, in my dream you hesitated. Albeit briefly. And then you put out your hand, felt for the knob and quickly opened the door. But you didn’t go inside right away. You stopped at the threshold because you were assaulted by a blinding light. You couldn’t see anything. You squinted, feeling your eyes burn from the terrible glare. You had the sudden urge to capitulate, but then you felt cold water splashing about your feet. In an instant, you chose what seemed to be the lesser evil. You went into the cabin and feverishly closed the door behind you.”

  “And then?” I asked, since the visitor had sunk into silence.

  “Then nothing. That’s the end of the dream. I remember that I woke up covered in sweat. As though it had happened to me, not you. You really gave me a hard time.”

  “I apologize.”

  “You have no reason to apologize. No one’s to blame for the fact that I dream other people’s tight spots.”

  He opened his arms with a helpless shrug, then got up from the armchair.

  “There, I told you my dream. I hope you found it interesting.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m glad. Now I have to go. I didn’t intend to stay so long. But a man gets long-winded and the time just flies. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  He had already reached the door when something crossed my mind. “You forgot the goose quills.” I pointed to the coffee table between the armchairs.

  “No, I didn’t,” he said tersely, as though this was explanation enough. He nodded and went out before I had a chance to say anything else.

  I looked at the feathers again. Then I picked up the book from the bedside table and opened it to the place I’d marked. I didn’t have a chance to continue reading, however, because I was interrupted by a fresh knock at the door.

  “Enter!”

  The cheerful face of the nurse appeared once again.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great!”

  A smile quickly spread across her face as she pulled her head back into the corridor.

  I turned my eyes back to the book and started to read, but I didn’t get very far. I’d barely finished the first paragraph when another knock was heard. This time it was subdued, more like scratching.

  “Come in!” I replied in a low voice.

  A woman entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She was tall and thin with graying hair. The brown hospital robe reached almost to her feet, drawing her out even more. There was a brass inkpot in her left hand.

  She turned around the room, as though fearful she might see someone. After making certain there was no one else but me, she let out a sigh.

  “Good evening.” Her voice was high-pitched.

  “Good evening.”

  “Please forgive me for disturbing you at this late hour. In addition, I shouldn’t even be in the men’s ward. I’m from the floor up above, room 419. I was lucky that no one saw me coming. I hope my luck holds out when I go back. It would be quite awkward if they caught me, arousing all sorts of suspicions. You know what people are like. Who k
nows what all might cross their minds.”

  “I know.”

  The smile faded from her thin face. “Who would believe that the only reason I came here was to tell you something?”

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Yes. Nothing else. Will you let me? I promise it won’t take long. You’ll go back to your reading in no time at all.”

  She nodded at the book I was holding. I closed it and put it back on the bedside table.

  “I’m all ears.” I indicated the armchair where the previous visitor had sat.

  “Thank you.”

  The woman settled into the chair and placed the inkpot next to the goose quills.

  “Please forgive me,” she began at once. “Since the circumstances do not allow me to present myself properly, I will have to withhold my name. What I will say, however, is that until I retired I was an animal keeper in a circus.”

  “A circus?”

  “Yes. I won’t hold it against you if you have little regard for that profession.”

  “Certainly not...”

  “Most people find the job I had unremarkable. And do you know who did the most to demean such a highly responsible job in the public eye?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “The trainers.”

  “The trainers?”

  “Yes. They shamelessly grabbed all the glory for themselves. The audience gives them thunderous applause in the circus ring, full of admiration, and no one ever thinks of the animal keepers. The trainers, however, spend at most two hours a day with the animals, putting them through their paces, and that’s only on working days, not weekends. Then there is the fifteen minutes of the show, and that’s all. And let me ask you, who is with the animals all the rest of the time, practically from dawn to dusk?”

  “The keepers?”

  “That’s right. Perhaps you think the animal keepers’ job is undemanding? What’s there to philosophize about, anyway? You feed the animals and clean them, just about anyone could do that. But if that’s what you think then you are terribly mistaken.”

  “That’s not what I think.”

  “I could spend hours telling you about the complexity and intricacy of the keepers’ work. Now, of course there is no time, but please let me illustrate just one aspect of our daily life. Quite briefly. May I?”

  I nodded my head.

  “This, I hope, will provide convincing testimony of the ordeals that circus animal keepers go through. Have you ever wondered, perhaps, how our charges go to sleep?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “It’s a very delicate procedure, particularly when the animals are nervous or even stressed out after a performance. Considerable patience and skill is needed to get them to go to sleep. Each of them requires a different approach and it’s not at all easy to figure out what each animal likes the best. Take elephants, for example. Can you imagine what relaxes and lulls them to sleep the best?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Music.”

  “Music?”

  “Yes, music. But not just any. Heaven forbid! If you put on something modern you get the opposite effect from what you want. The elephants become agitated. Do you know what they find particularly irritating?”

  “No.”

  “Atonal music. They run amuck and are capable of breaking through the bars of their cage. Perhaps you read in the newspaper not long ago about an elephant that escaped from a circus and was only caught on the third day?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Well, inexperienced keepers recklessly played atonal music to that poor beast, although they must have known that only late Baroque music is appropriate for elephants. And not every piece. They mustn’t be given compositions with cellos. As soon as they hear a cello they raise their trunks and start to sound off gaily, and then sleeping is out of the question. Piano concerts are the most suitable. It’s enough for them to listen for just a few minutes and they immediately fall sound asleep. Does the piano have a soothing effect on you too?”

  “It does.”

  “That’s nice. Lions, however, are quite another thing. You can put on whatever music you want, they won’t take the slightest notice. As though they’re deaf. But they are quite responsive to reading.”

  “Reading?”

  “Yes. Everyone is surprised to hear that. And they are even more amazed when they learn that lions are finicky about what you offer them. They don’t like prose at all. They start roaring as soon as they hear it. Science fiction infuriates them. They raise such a fuss that the whole circus reverberates. That doesn’t surprise me much. I give science fiction a wide berth too. What about you?”

  “I have nothing against it.”

  “Fine, there’s no accounting for taste. In any case, the lions are poetry lovers. But not just any kind. If you read them an elegy that causes them to mate. Who knows why? And who can sleep while there’s mating?”

  “No one.”

  “No one, of course. Heroic epics are the best way to put lions to sleep. It’s enough to read just a few verses, in the original if possible, and they fall asleep as blissfully as a newborn babe.”

  “Well, I never.”

  “Yes. But that certainly isn’t the most unusual way to put circus animals to sleep. Just wait until you hear about the giraffes.”

  “Are there giraffes in the circus?”

  “Only in the best. We tried just about everything until we discovered that they are art lovers. We can’t bring original paintings into their cages, of course, but luckily the giraffes don’t insist. It’s enough to put a small white screen in front of their cage and show slides. And that, you will agree, is far and away the easiest and least expensive way.”

  “I agree.”

  “We do have to be careful about what we show them, however. Abstract works bring about a very adverse reaction. They just turn their backs and stay awake all night in protest. And that’s not what we want at all, is it?”

  “By no means.”

  “Works by the early Impressionists have the most beneficial effect. They provide the giraffes with a long and invigorating sleep, which is extremely important given these animals’ highly sensitive nerves. You might not be aware, but in spite of their size, giraffes are quite volatile creatures.”

  “I wasn’t aware.”

  “They are, unfortunately. Unlike the monkeys, for example, who are much calmer, although it isn’t exactly easy to put them to sleep, either. We need technical assistance with them too. They’re mad about the movies.”

  “What’s that you say?”

  “That’s right, but not just any movies. Someone unfamiliar with the monkeys’ taste might assume they prefer cartoons or maybe comedies. But none of that is right. What would you say, what kind of movies do monkeys prefer?”

  I thought for a moment. “Cowboy movies?”

  “Certainly not! They bristle at the very sight of the Wild West and in such a state it’s impossible to put them to sleep. But if we show them a neorealistic film, particularly if it’s in black and white, first they applaud and then they become totally engrossed in watching it. Soon, however, they start to yawn. Within ten minutes the cage resounds with collective snoring.”

  “Unbelievable!”

  “That’s nothing. There are even more unusual ways to put circus animals to sleep. If you only knew what we have to do for the seals and eagles. But I won’t bother you anymore with that. I hope that what I told you has helped you get a better picture of our job.”

  “Certainly.”

  “That’s good. And now let me get down to the main reason for my late visit. I’m here to tell you about a dream I had not long ago.”

  “So, that’s it.”

  “I don’t usually dream and when I do it’s always about people I know very well, but this was an exception. I dreamed about you.”

  “Me?”

  “You. Strange, don’t you think?”

  “Well, in a manner of speaking.”


  “But the dream itself was really strange. You were traveling in an airplane. The flight was very long. You dozed off. The shaking of the aircraft woke you suddenly, as though you’d entered an area of turbulence. You opened your eyes and were first surprised by the fact that the seats to your left and right were empty. You remembered quite well that a plump woman and a young man with a butch haircut had been sitting there. Do you know anyone who fits those descriptions?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. You looked towards the other side of the aisle. The three seats there were also empty. This worried you. Although the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign was on, you opened your seatbelt and slowly stood up. You were in the front part of the airplane so there were only a few rows of seats in front of you. They were also empty. This seriously disturbed you. All that was left was to look behind you, but you were reluctant to do so. It’s not hard to imagine, is it, what you found there?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Your suspicions came true. You were the only passenger in economy class. A shudder went down your spine. Confusion and fear turned you to stone for some time, as you stared at the rows of empty seats.”

  “That’s not acting very bravely.”

  “No, but who could blame you? I was panic-stricken too, even though all this was happening to you, not me. Finally, you came to your senses. You decided to look for one of the crew members. Maybe there was a stewardess behind the curtain that divided off the first class area. You didn’t put much hope in it, but what else could you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Unfortunately, as you feared, there was neither a stewardess nor any passengers in first class. Everything was eerily empty, and the relentless shaking of the plane only increased your unease. Without much hope you made your way towards the pilots’ cabin. There had to be someone there.”

  “Aren’t passengers strictly forbidden there?”

  “Yes, but this was a crisis situation. You weren’t going to go back to your seat and wait for things to sort themselves out, were you?”

  “No.”

  “When you peeked hesitantly into the pilots’ cabin, however, after no one responded to your knocking, you were sorry you hadn’t gone back to your seat and waited. Sometimes ignorant bliss is better than terrifying knowledge.”

 

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