by Lazar Lagin
Forming a semblance of a formation, they dragged their feet listlessly to their locker room, sneezing and coughing loudly.
A moment later a doctor was summoned, since all eleven players were feeling ill. The doctor felt each one’s pulse in turn, he asked them to take off their shirts, then looked in their mouths and finally summoned the umpire. “I’m afraid you’ll have to call off the game.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Because the Zubilo team can’t play for at least seven more days. The whole team is sick,” the doctor answered dazedly.
“Sick! What’s the matter?”
“It’s a very strange case. All these eleven grown men have come down with the measles. I would never have believed it if I had not given them a thorough check-up just now.”
Thus ended the only football match in history in which a fan had an opportunity to influence the game. As you see, it did not come to any good.
The unusual instance of eleven adult athletes simultaneously contracting the measles for the second time in their lives and waking up the following morning in the pink of health was described in great detail in an article by the famous Professor Hooping Cough and published in the medical journal Measles and Sneezles. The article was entitled “That’s a Nice How D’You Do!” and is still so popular that one can never get a copy of the magazine in the libraries, as they are always on loan. That is why, dear readers, you might as well not look for it, since you’ll only waste your time for nothing.
RECONCILIATION
The little cloud that was covering the sun floated off and disappeared, as it was no longer needed. Once again it became hot. A hundred thousand fans were slowly leaving the stadium through the narrow concrete passages.
No one was in a hurry. Everyone wanted to voice an opinion about the amazing game which had ended so strangely.
These opinions were each more involved than the previous one. However, not even the most vivid imaginations could think of an explanation that would so much as resemble the true reason for all the queer things they had witnessed.
Only three people took no part in these discussions. They left the North Section in deep silence. They entered a crowded trolley-bus in silence and alighted in silence at Okhotny Ryad, where they separated.
“Football is an excellent game,” Hottabych finally mustered up the courage to say.
“Mm-m-m,” Volka replied.
“I can just imagine how sweet the moment is when you kick the ball into the enemy’s goal!” Hottabych continued in a crestfallen voice. “Isn’t that so, O Volka?”
“Mm-m-m.”
“Are you still angry with me, O goalie of my heart? I’ll die if you don’t answer me!”
He scurried along beside his angry friend, sighing sadly and cursing the hour he had agreed to go to the game.
“What do you think!” Volka snapped, but then continued in a softer tone, “Boy, what a mess! I’ll never forget it as long as I live. Have a look at this new-found fan! No sir, we’ll never take you to a football game again! And we don’t need your tickets, either.”
“Your every word is my command,” Hottabych hurried to assure him, pleased to have got off so easily. “I’ll be quite content if you occasionally find the time to tell me of the football matches.”
So they continued on as good friends as ever.
WHERE SHOULD THEY LOOK FOR OMAR?
To look at Hottabych’s healthy face, no one would ever suspect he had been seriously ill so recently.
His cheeks were a soft, even shade of old-age pink. His step was as light and as quick as always, and a broad smile lighted his artless face. And only Volka, who knew Hottabych so well, noticed that a secret thought was constantly gnawing at the old Genie. Hottabych often sighed, he stroked his beard thoughtfully, and large tears would ever so often roll from his frank, friendly eyes.
Volka would pretend not to notice and did not bother the old man with tactless questions. He was convinced that in the end Hottabych would be the first to speak. That is exactly what happened.
“Grief and sadness rent my old heart, O noble saviour of Genies,” Hottabych said softly one day when a magnificent sunset coloured the evening waters of the Moskva River a delicate pink. “Thoughts of my poor lost brother and of his terrible and hapless fate do not leave me for a moment. The more I think of him, the more I feel I should set out to search for him as soon as possible. What do you think of this, O wise Volka ibn Alyosha? And if you regard this decision kindly, would you not make me happy by sharing the joys and sorrows of this journey with me?”
“Where do you want to start looking for your brother?” Volka asked in a business-like way, since he was no longer surprised at the most unexpected suggestions Hottabych might have.
“If you remember, O Volka, at the very dawn of our extremely happy acquaintance, I told you that Sulayman’s Genies threw him into one of the Southern Seas, sealed in a copper vessel. There, along the shores of the hot countries, is where one must naturally look for Omar Asaf.”
The possibility of setting out on a journey to the Southern Seas really appealed to Volka.
“All right. I’ll come along with you. Wherever you go, I go. It would be nice if…” Volka fumbled.
But a cheerful Hottabych continued: “…if we could take our wonderful friend Zhenya ibn Kolya along. Have I understood you correctly, O my kind Volka ibn Alyosha?”
“Uh-huh.”
“There could not have been a shadow of doubt,” Hottabych said. It was decided then and there that the expedition setting out to search for Hottabych’s unfortunate brother would leave no later than in two days’ time.
However, if the time of departure caused ho discord, it quite suddenly became apparent that there were serious differences on the question of a means of transportation.
“Let’s go by magic carpet,” Hottabych suggested. “There’s enough room for all of us.”
“Oh no,” Volka objected strongly. “No more magic carpets for me. Thanks a lot! Our last trip was enough for me. I don’t want to freeze like a dog a second time.”
“I’ll supply you both with warm clothing, O blessed Volka. And if you so desire, a large bonfire will constantly burn in the middle of the carpet. We can warm ourselves beside it during our flight.”
“No, no, no! The magic carpet is out of the question. Let’s go to Odessa by train. Then, from Odessa …”
Hottabych immediately accepted Volka’s plan and Zhenya, who was told of it in detail a short half hour later, enthusiastically approved.
THE STORY TOLD BY THE CONDUCTOR
OF THE MOSCOW—ODESSA EXPRESS OF WHAT HAPPENED ON THE NARA—MALY YAROSLAVETS LINE
(Told by the conductor to his assistant, who was asleep during the events described herein)
“I woke you up just to tell you that a very strange thing has happened in our car.
“Well, I made up the beds for the passengers, the same as always, and the ones in Compartment 7, too. The passengers there were a bearded old bird in an old-fashioned straw boater and two boys. The boys looked about the same age. And what do you think: not a single piece of luggage !No, sir, not a single one!
“Just then, one of the boys, a blond freckled lad, says:
“ ‘Can you please tell us where the dining car is?’
“And I says, ‘I’m sorry, but we don’t have a dining car, There’ll be tea and crackers in the morning.’
“Then the boy looks at the old man and the old man winks at him. So the boy says, ‘Never mind, we’ll manage without your tea, since you haven’t a dining car.’
“ ‘Ha,’ I thought, ‘I’d like to see how you’ll make out all the way to Odessa without my tea.’ So I came back here to our compartment, but I left a chink in the door when I closed it.
“Everyone in the car was sound asleep, having sweet dreams, but all the time there was buzz-buzz-buzz coming from Compartment 7 — they kept on talking and whispering all the time. I couldn’t hear what they were saying
, but I can tell you for sure they were talking.
“Then suddenly their door opens and the same old man sticks out his head. He didn’t notice me watching him so he pushed his old hat back. And what d’you think he did? Upon my word, I’m tellin’ the truth! He pulled a fistful of hair from his beard — may I drop dead on the spot if he didn’t!
“ ‘Goodness,’ I thought, ‘he’s crazy! Just my luck to get a madman while I’m on duty.’ Well, I didn’t say anything and waited to see what’d happen.
“Well, the old man tore this same fistful of hair into little pieces, then he threw this litter on the floor and mumbled something. I felt more and more sure he was mad and that I’d have to put him off at Bryansk , no doubt about it.
“ ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘there’ll be no end of worry! Why, maybe he’ll start attacking the passengers this very minute, or breaking the windows!’
“No, he didn’t start any trouble, but just stood there mumbling. After he mumbled a while more, he went back into his compartment.
“All of a sudden I heard someone walking barefoot down the passage, coming from behind. That meant whoever it was had come in from the platform. I sure was surprised, because I always lock the platforms when we pull out of a station. Well, I looked round, and — upon my sacred word of honour, I’m telling the truth! — I saw four young fellows coming towards me from the platform. They were as sunburned as vacationers and quite naked. All they had on were little cloths round their hips. And barefoot. As skinny as could be! You could count every rib.
“I came out of our compartment and said, ‘Citizens, I believe you’ve got your cars mixed. All our compartments are occupied.’
“And they all answered together, ‘Silence, infidel! We know where we’re going! We’ve come exactly to the place we want.’
“So I says, ‘Then I’d like to see your tickets, please.’
“And they all said together again, ‘Don’t annoy us, foreigner, for we are hurrying to our lord and master!’
“So I says, ‘I’m surprised that you call me a foreigner. I’m a Soviet citizen and I’m in my own country. That’s for one. And in the second place, we haven’t had any masters here since the Revolution. That,’ I said, ‘is in the second place.’
“So their leader says, ‘You should be ashamed, infidel! You are taking advantage of the fact that our hands are occupied and we therefore cannot kill you for your terrible insolence. It , is most dishonourable of you to take advantage of us so.’
“I forgot to tell you that they were piled high with all sorts of food. One was carrying a heavy tray with roast lamb and rice. Another had a huge basket of apples, pears, apricots and grapes.
The third one was balancing something that looked like a pitcher on his head, and something was splashing inside the pitcher. The fourth was holding two large platters of meat pies and pastries. To tell you the truth, I just stood there gaping.
“Then the leader says, ‘Infidel, you’d do better to show us where Compartment 7 is, for we are in a hurry to fulfil our orders.’
“Then I began to put two and two together and asked, ‘What does your boss look like? Is he a little old man with a beard?’
“ ‘Yes, that is he. That is whom we serve.’
“I showed them to Compartment 7, and on the way I said, ‘I’ll have to fine your boss for letting you travel without tickets. Have you been working for him long?’
“So the leader says, ‘We’ve been serving him for three thousand five hundred years.”
“To tell you the truth, I thought I didn’t hear him right. So I says again, ‘How many years did you say?’
“ ‘You heard me, that’s exactly how long we’ve served him — three thousand five hundred years.’
“The other three nodded.
“ ‘Good gracious,’ I thought, ‘as if one crazy man wasn’t enough — now I have four more on my neck!’
“But I went on talking to them as I would to any normal passengers. ‘What a shame! Look how many years you’ve been working for him and he can’t even get you some ordinary overalls. If you’ll pardon the expression, you’re absolutely naked.’
“So the leader says, ‘We don’t need overalls. We don’t even know what they are.’
“ ‘It’s strange to hear that coming from someone who’s worked so many years. I guess you’re from far away. Where d’you live?’
“ ‘We’ve just come from Ancient Arabia.’
“Then I says, ‘Well, that clears everything up. Here’s Compartment 7. Knock on the door.’
“Just then, the same little old man comes out and all his men fall to their knees and stretch out the food and drinks they’ve brought. But I called the old man off to a side and said, ‘Are these your employees?’
“ ‘Yes, they are.’
“ ‘They have no tickets. That means you have to pay a fine. Will you pay it?’
“ ‘Right away, if you wish. But won’t you first tell me what a fine is?’
“I saw the old man was being sensible, so I began to explain things in a whisper, ‘One of your men has gone out of his mind: he says he’s been working for you for three thousand five hundred years. I’m sure you’ll agree he’s crazy.’
“Then the old man says, ‘I cannot agree, since he is not lying. Yes, that’s right — three thousand five hundred years. Even a little longer, since I was only two hundred or two hundred and thirty when I became their master.’
“So I says to him, ‘Stop making a fool of me! It doesn’t become your age. If you don’t pay the fine immediately, I’ll put them off at the next station. And, anyway, you look like a suspicious character, going on such a long journey without any luggage.’
“ ‘What’s luggage?’
“ ‘You know, bundles, suitcases and such stuff.’
“The old man laughed and said, ‘Why are you inventing things, O conductor? Saying that I have no luggage. Just look at the shelves.’
“I looked up at the luggage racks and they were jammed! I’d looked a moment before and there hadn’t been anything there, and suddenly — just imagine! — so many suitcases and bundles!
“Then I said, ‘Something’s wrong here. Pay the fine quickly and I’ll bring the chief conductor over at the next stop. Let him decide. I can’t understand what’s going on.’
“The old man laughed again. ‘What fine?’ says he. ‘Whom do I have to pay a fine for?’
“Then I really got angry. I turned around and pointed to the passage, but there was no one there! I ran up and down the whole car, but couldn’t find a trace of my four stray passengers.
“Then the old man said, ‘O conductor, you had better go back to your own compartment.’ And so I went back.
“Now d’you understand why I woke you up? Don’t you believe me?”
An hour before the train arrived in Odessa , the conductor entered Compartment 7 to remove the bedding. Hottabych treated him to some apples.
It was quite apparent that the man did not remember anything of the incident which had taken place the night before.
After he had left their compartment, Zhenya said with admiration: “I must admit, Volka is a bright chap!”
“I should think so!” Hottabych exclaimed. “Volka ibn Alyosha is unquestionably an excellent fellow and his suggestion is worthy of great praise.”
Since the reader might not be too clear on the meaning of this short conversation, we hurry to explain.
When the completely confused conductor left Compartment 7 the previous night, Volka said to Hottabych, “Can you do something to make him forget what’s happened?”
“Why, O Volka ibn Alyosha, that’s as simple as pie.”
“Then please do it and as quickly as possible. He’ll go to sleep then, and when he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember anything.”
“Excellent, O treasure-store of common sense!” Hottabych said admiringly, waved his hand and made the conductor forget everything.
THE STRANGE SAILING SHIP
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Several passengers were talking leisurely as they leaned on the rail of the excursion ship “Kolkhida,” sailing from Odessa to Batumi . Powerful diesel engines hummed far below, in the depths of the ship. The water whispered dreamily as it lapped against the steep sides, and high above, over the spar deck, the ship’s wireless piped anxiously.
“You know, it’s really a shame that the large sailing ships of yore, those white-winged beauties, are a thing of the past. How happy I would be to find myself on a real frigate… Just to enjoy the sight of those billowing white sails, to listen to the creaking of the mighty yet graceful masts, to watch in amazement as, at the captain’s command, the crew scrambles up the rigging! If I could only see a real sailing ship! I mean a real genuine one! Nowadays even a bark has to have a motor, you know, even though — mark my words — it’s considered a sailboat!”
“A motor-sailboat,” a man wearing the uniform of the Merchant Marine added. They fell silent. All except the sailor went over to the left side to watch a school of tireless dolphins splash and cavort in the warm noonday sea. Dolphins were nothing new to the sailor. He stretched out in a deck chair and picked up a magazine lazily. Soon the sun made him drowsy. He closed the magazine and fanned himself with it.
Then something attracted his attention. He stopped fanning himself, jumped to his feet and rushed to the railing. Far off, near the very horizon, he saw a beautiful but terribly old-fashioned sailing ship skimming over the waves. It seemed like something from a fairy tale.
“Everybody! Everybody hurry over here!” he shouted. “Look at that sailing ship! Isn’t it ancient! Oh, and something’s wrong with its mainmast! It doesn’t have a mainmast! Why, it just isn’t there! My goodness! Just look! The sails are all billowed out the wrong way! According to every law of nature, the foremast should have been blown overboard long ago! It’s really a miracle!”
However, by the time the other passengers heeded his words and returned to the starboard side, the unknown vessel had disappeared from sight. We say “unknown,” because the sailor was ready to swear that the wonderful sailing ship was not registered at any Soviet port on the Black Sea . This is true. In fact, it wasn’t registered at any foreign port, either; it wasn’t registered any place, for the simple reason that it had appeared in the world and was launched but a few short hours before.
