One of the greatest pleasures in life is a February barbecue. If you do everything right: live with the right people, behave properly with these people and think correct thoughts with them - then there is no greater pleasure than to go with them outdoors in the winter. And if your correctness is pleasing to higher powers, it all goes extremely well.
There will be freshly fallen snow, fluffy and dry. It will be no more than ten degrees below zero. It will be sunny the whole day from morning until evening. In the evening, about seven o'clock, the crescent Moon will appear like a boat floating in the sky, and a planet will appear so that you’ll want to stand up and shout: “Ah, Nikolai Vasilievich, not only in Dikanka!” ...
A special joy of winter is cold vodka and hot wine. The wine is sipped by the ladies as they are being driven through the forests and fields and being shown the neighborhood, and all drink the vodka. Sitting around the campfire, you notice how last year's green grass breaks through the thaw mixed with the dry grass which happened to sprout during the winter, and when they bring you a glass and a large thick clay cup, in which the best person in the world mixed rose-colored slices of lamb and pork with roasted vegetables, it becomes clear that life is good.
On top of all that you get eggplant with young tiny seeds, sweet peppers, and small tomatoes with roasted onions. You eat this smoke-flavored splendor – so delicious that you even envy yourself.
When the bright morning sun gleams through the vodka poured into your crystal glass, and you suddenly realize that it is only ten in the morning and the whole day is still before you - you experience the most that is human happiness.
In the afternoon, after having had your fill of the surrounding forests and hills, you return. A hot fire and a pot of hot strong tea await you. And near the fire, on the mats covered with blankets, your friends lie, carrying on a leisurely conversation:
“ ... No, no! I don’t have mathematics in mind, I am talking about luck - fate, if you will, about such a fate that leads you to something good. Like the fishermen sitting over there: the theory of probability acts on all equally - one will come home with nothing, and another will bring back a backpack full of fish.”
“You spoke well about the fishermen.” Peter Pavlovich took a long stick and put it on the fire so it would burn up in the center. “I remember one such lake which is not as beautiful as that before us, but also with fishermen. No one could catch fish from it. But there it was not a case of luck.”
He paused, and all fell silent in anticipation: Peter Pavlovich was a great storyteller.
“You spoke of luck and fishermen, and this story immediately came into my head. I called myself at that time a "specialist in misfortune," and when they brought me to this lake, it was also in February.”
He fell silent again.
“Tell us, Peter Pavlovich.”
“I will interrupt your whole argument with my long story.”
“We’re not arguing about girls, tell us.”
Peter Pavlovich took a cigarette from the pack, lit it and began his story:
“It was in the late nineties, when a lot of money was being bandied about, and no one had any understanding of how to use it. I shuttled around the country, trying to bring people who had taken upon themselves unfulfillable obligations to their senses.”
“In February of ninety-eight, I, along with my future boss, came here to the capital, in serious trouble. The man was bull-headed; I had to cut him short, grabbing my friend by the collar and quickly send him off to warm regions, abroad, far from sin. Even though his creditor was a scammer and scum, the forces with him were serious, both business and family.”
“So I sent the man away, but I could not leave – before the wild nineties I could not travel abroad, and during that time, even more so. Now I go to Europe and Asia when I want to, but then - it was also interesting for me here. I had money for a taxi, but at that time there was nothing easier than to track a person from the airport using the right people. I had to go to the south, where I had good friends who have nothing to do with my business, but I was in the north. So I crossed the city on public transport, avoiding the subway, and staying away from the guardposts by going through the private sector and using secondary roads.”
“I went out to the highway, and there the blizzard began. The snowstorm blew, but I was walking along the road in a light overcoat without a hat. Snow beat against my glasses. The nearest village was about eighteen miles, and no one was on the road. It was as if all life had become extinct. I wrapped my sweater around my head and broke into a jog. Suddenly, a large car overtook me, a Mercedes SUV with bullet-proof glass stopped in front of me and came back. I stopped - no weapons, but there were the trees bordering the fields; I could run and hide there. But the SUV just stopped, waiting for me. I had only taken a couple of steps when a man got out of the car and shouted to me, he said, “Sit down, come on!” I looked around; I saw through the windshield, there was no one in the car except the driver, and so I came back and sat down.”
“I relished the warmth. He asked, ‘Where are you going?’ I said, ‘To a hotel,’ and named a city about fifty kilometers down the road. He said, ‘Well, I’m going farther than that.’”
“We drove slowly; the road was very bad and we could not see anything. We were silent about twenty minutes, and then he, obviously, to start a conversation, asked what I did for a living. And yes, I gave the answer: I said, ‘A specialist in misfortune!’ He looked at me very attentively, and said, ‘Well, it means that God has sent you to me, let's get acquainted!’”
Peter Pavlovich inhaled a couple of times, threw the filter into the fire, and took a sip of tea. His eyes, under the blue glasses were thoughtful; on his face was a sad smile.
“When I woke up in the morning in the house of my new friend, I went to the window, and there - Holy Mother! – such beauty: a lake in the bowl of the hills. The sky was blue; the sun was golden in the snow. My heart was warmed, I thought: Well, there are higher powers in the world who love me! While these same fishermen, sit on the ice, like flies on glass.”
“My new proprietor when he heard about the "misfortune", tried to persuade me for an hour. He said, ‘If you do not succeed – completely give up the idea. I have no more energy for it.’”
“One day a couple of years ago, he came here and saw this lake: on one side of the lake the green hills with trees and on the other - the granite shore. He got excited and bought it all, or selected it – it doesn’t matter. There was a small village - less than fifty lots. So he decided to give the people work. He used them in construction.”
“It all started very well: they cleared the place, poured the foundation, but then he did not come for a month, and after his return it was like after a nuclear war. Sand and gravel were spread from house to house, the toilet was removed from the basement, as if they had trashed his soul.”
“He did not grieve for long – there was money - he invited migrant workers and brought in a mini-village in the Austrian style. But he wanted to do something good for people. He planned to put a normal mill here, with a granary and huller and a packing shop, to store and pack for himself as well, and to grind Argentine grain.”
“Everywhere, wherever he worked - buying a small aluminum factory or melting ferro-silicon - it all went well, but here, where he decided to start a new life – nothing!”
“The foreign investor had come, but gave up - he had lost his money. The equipment broke down; the grain was wasted. Theft was constant. And yesterday the chairman of the village council set down his environmental requirements, even though he ate from my table.”
“Therefore: Peter Pavlovich, take the business. If this works out - take what you want from the profits, but if not - I will cover it all.”
“He left me in the care of the guard, a retired policeman, and drove off to earn money.”
“From his story, I suddenly realized that the guy was a good salesman, but a bad buyer. When he conducts business, he acts harshly, and in his eyes is the necessary hardness. At home, he decided that if he showed goodness to the people, they would be kind to him too. Well, what if at work his people are one way, but another at home? If he chases slackers with a stick in his factories, then why here should a kind word be enough?”
“I walked through the village, looked carefully. I went to the mill. There among the directors was one Italian with a local wife, as well as five aunts with shovels. All are normal. I learned that the police officer lived in a neighboring village; I paid him a visit. He talked with me, a good guy – it was clear. He said, ‘If your landlord came in our village, we would shake hands and embrace him. Yes it is obvious: their yards are swept, the fences painted, and ours, next to the Austrian village, ducks walk on the snow and crap – there are no fences, there are holes in many of the roofs.’”
“I returned to the village and began to walk from house to house, talking with people. I liked the people, I saw no drunks. But only their eyes were like dogs’, like slaves’, dependent. They looked at me, agreeing with everything. I invited everyone to the meeting. I did not go to the chairman, however. He is chairman for several villages, and indeed, why should I go to that swine?”
“Only one resident refused: a solid house stood in the center of the village, with a high fence, there a ham radio operator lived. There was a tower and a windmill. A serious dog barked. The man came out of the gate in a leather vest and trousers, with a goatee like Lenin. He approved all that I said, and said everything was fine, he did not need work. As for the others – it’s my problem. But thanks for that.”
“I had just sat down to dinner with the retired policeman, when the chairman rolled up in a Niva. A young guy, about thirty, but his face had already started to bulge, and this imposing boorishness in his piggy eyes glinted. He came in, made himself at home, pulled up a chair to the table, and took a clean dish. ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘no one has introduced us.’ As he held out his hand toward the bread, I pushed him behind his neck - once! - and he broke the plate with his face. I again pushed his head into the table. He fell from the table onto the floor on his rear end and blinked his eyes.”
“I told him, ‘Did anyone invite you to the table?’ He stood, hands clenched, his eyes flashed and said, ‘Well, you s.o.b., you’ll be sorry about that!’ And he left.”
“The next day it warmed up, as if spring had begun. Still, everything did not melt, but the sun was shining. The temperature was minus three; there was no wind.”
“People came and brought their children. Even the chairman arrived, and yesterday’s ham radio operator was with him in the car. In general, all gathered together; even the fishermen were not on the lake. I had been cleaning up the yard all morning. I took out all the stock and some boxes of household appliances.”
“’Here,’ I said, ‘For my part, I will provide you with materials and tools, and on your part, you will do the work on construction of your club. As a gift from us: five TVs and a fully equipped computer room for the children.’”
“’And to get to know each other better, please provide a few women for cooking. After work, I invite everyone to a banquet in the pillared hall.’”
“The people’s spirits lifted, although caps were not thrown into the sky! The line of people marched by the chairman’s SUV straight to the club. And would you believe it? For five hours everything was cleaned up, loaded and removed; the roof was repaired. Inside, all was sheathed with oak paneling and mirrors, with aluminum outside. And how many of these panels should be at the club? It was small like the laundry room of a small house. Of course, two foremen whom I brought from the capital greatly helped.
The evening was a real treat.”
“In the morning people began to come to me. To tell me about their business and their various differences. I felt like a feudal king. In the evening I was told that the chairman and the ham operator took their relatives and drove off somewhere. They seemed frightened.”
“I woke up early in the morning, tired, even ill, but with big plans in mind. Looked out the window, and the fishermen sat again on the ice, and no one came to see me, although they had agreed to.
I went back to the village. Again, they looked me in the eyes shyly, they nodded heads again. I fell ill from it; a week I lay ill. That hadn’t happened to me for a long time. As I got up at night, looked out the window, it was like a winter thunderstorm. And there, on the ham radio antenna, the lights were on. It was the first time in my life I had seen such a thing. Bad thoughts came into my head so I could not sleep.”
“In the morning I went into the house with the antenna, and there was no one there. Then to the neighbors, no one there either; to others… They said that they had not seen anyone for a week. And where were the neighbors? So, they said, there are no neighbors, they died from cancer, the husband and wife. The ham radio operator bought the house very cheap from distant relatives, but no one lived there. And where was he? They said that he left two weeks ago, left frozen chickens to throw over the fence to the dog, gave the neighbors money and left.”
“At this point, everything in my head stopped in place.”
“I hurried to the capital, because only there were the familiar specialists. I came, explained the situation, paid the money. They said come in the evening. Well, I thought, I have the time; I’d go to the hospital.
I had just arrived and went to the doctor of an acquaintance. As he led me to the window, he carefully examined me and said, ‘Have you had a problem with your thyroid for a long time?’ I told him, ‘I never have! He said, ‘Now you do.’ ‘I have never suffered from anything but nearsightedness.’ The doctor nodded his head and started to pat my neck and throat, and then sent my blood to verify the thyroid diagnosis.”
“I left the hospital, sat in the car, rested my head on the wheel and thought: such a fate, Peter! Do you think that you either would be snuffed out at the entrance, or shot with an arrow, or they would cut you, as you all your life feared?”
“And anger so overtook me that I began to shake.”
“I have a rule that if something terrible is going to happen, I work myself up in advance, I come up with the most terrible things. I imagine it all: the pain and the scalpels, and the expenditure of money on doctors, and debts. That my friends turn away from me and only come to the funeral. I sat for an hour. It alarmed me, and I felt torn up inside: I felt pity, and wept over my life.”
“Then I got out of the car, the snowdrifts were covered with fresh white snow. I washed myself off with it, sat down again, started the engine and drove off to meet with the specialists.”
Peter Pavlovich got up, took the burned stick and placed it on fire, then walked to the other side and slid the second half closer to the center. As he walked, all looked involuntarily at a small scar on his neck.
“When the experts arrived and deployed their scanners, they were even afraid to go into the house.
I quickly brought the district police officer, recorded on video the readings on the instruments and unhooked the rig – nothing happened. Then I shut down the whole village: what kind of spare electric line does the ham have?”
“At night, my friend, my retiree, climbed over the fence, frightened the dog, and everything electronic that we found, we seized and burned.”
“And what has become of the chairman and the radio amateur?”
“Well, they even had the audacity to come and proclaim their rights. - Peter Pavlovich smiled with thin lips. “It amused me.”
In the quiet, the campfire happily crackled, and a pot of tea boiled, humming on one side. In the sky, the first star lit up amid the magnificent sunset.
One of the ladies could not stand it and asked: “And what was the luck? You almost died, and you sensed that it was from saving all those parasite-alcoholics.”
Pyotr Pavlovich condescendingly looked at all of us and said:
“First, I could be frozen in my coat on the road. Second, it is not clear when I would have visited the doctors, if I had not then gotten scared.”
“And the third?”
“And third – I became acquainted with a nice person. I have become kinder to the people because of this. True, I now go back there only in summer”