Ольга Палагина – Stories from Lyubavino. Chronicle of an extraordinary Incident (страница 1)
Stories from Lyubavino. Chronicle of an extraordinary Incident
Olga Palagina
© Olga Palagina, 2025
ISBN 978-5-0068-7381-0
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Chapter I The Bucket of Fate
In a small, cozy provincial town with the pleasant-sounding name of Lyubavino, where life flowed along at a measured and comfortable pace, something truly extraordinary occurred! The sun had risen a little earlier than usual, the daily morning routine had been treacherously disrupted, and everyone’s beloved ritual morning beverages – hot tea and aromatic coffee, without which one simply cannot imagine a proper morning – had become the most coveted, yet, alas, utterly unattainable, like an evergreen oasis in the desert!
Why?
Because the town had been struck by a veritable emergency of catastrophic proportions!
The electricity had vanished without a trace!… And it had conveniently taken the gas, the water, and… oh, Heavens!… even the internet with it!
This catastrophe had befallen the townsfolk on a day sacred to every working person – a Friday. And right from the crack of dawn! To be even more precise, it had struck during the very night – precisely from Thursday into Friday.
At the time, no one could have guessed that the culprits were none other than the infamous “Whoo-hoo!” crew – consisting of Zhenya the excavator operator, Lyosha the tractor driver, and the dashing worker trio of Sasha, Dima, and Valera. And, of course, their ringleader, Mikhalych, a foreman with sky-blue eyes and a soul cheerful enough to liven up even a funeral home. Together, they formed a volatile mixture capable of unleashing chaos in the most peaceful corner of the universe.
It should be noted that they had pulled off this large-scale “stunt” not entirely of their own accord. Although, of course, it took a special kind of talent to make such a grand mess of things.
Now, recalling those most amusing events that stirred our – allow us to say without exaggeration – truly delightful little town, it’s impossible to suppress a good-natured smile.
And it all began quite ordinarily and innocently, giving no hint of the catastrophically funny things to come…
So, dear reader, a couple of days before this very incident, at one of the sites under the crew’s care, Zhenya the excavator operator, in the process of laying pipes, accidentally struck “manna from heaven” in the form of a defunct copper cable!
And that, friends, is where it all started. This is precisely why the Whoo-hoo Crew fell behind schedule and was forced to make up for lost time in crash mode, and at an ungodly hour at that. Which, in turn, led to those comical events that will be recounted shortly.
And really, who would have ever thought that in this sleepy, cozy town, as if it had stepped right out of a pastoral painting, where life flows at a leisurely pace and all the residents know each other not just by sight, but by the sound of their voice from behind a fence, such incredible stories could possibly occur? That right here, among the idyllic streets, drowning in greenery, where even the local cats merely raise a lazy eyebrow at the sight of a dog, and the postman knows everyone by name, something so unexpected and downright hilarious could unfold?
But let us lay it all out for you in order…
So, this defunct copper cable had apparently been lying there since the days when the word “internet” would only elicit bewilderment from a Soviet citizen. Then and there, after a brief consultation, Mikhanych’s brigade unanimously decided to pull out a bit of this very cable for their personal, so to speak, needs. Which Zhenya successfully did, procuring a couple of meters to the delight of the entire crew, which had immediately and noticeably perked up. Their working day concluded right then and there. Sasha and Lyosha promptly cashed in the found treasure at a non-ferrous metal collection point (fortunately, in Lyubavino, everything was close at hand).
The cable brought our crew a tidy sum, and, of course, the lads immediately threw a merry banquet and stocked up on the full spectrum of strong libations, not forgetting a modest but soul-warming snack – all in order to properly celebrate this generous gift from fate that had so timely fallen on their heads, literally from the heavens.
By the end of the shift, the site foreman found the entire “Whoo-hoo!” crew in a state of rare unanimity and exceptional mental elation. The men were munching on their latest rounds of fiery liquid with an appetite worthy of a king’s python. Witnessing this spectacle, the site supervisor unleashed a torrent of curses and, with a frustrated wave, disappeared beyond the horizon.
Meanwhile, it was getting late in the evening. The party was in full swing, and memories flowed like a river. The men were reminiscing about various incidents in their lives, delving into the most amusing details. Suddenly, Mikhalych became animated and slapped his knee, causing Sasha to shudder as if he had been electrocuted.
“Sasha, come on, confess,” Mikhalych’s voice rang out with intriguing notes, “you probably haven’t heard about our famous epic about Zhenya and the plumbers. Or has someone already blabbed about it?”
“No… I didn’t hear…” Sasha shook his head, feeling that something grand awaited him.
Sasha was a round-faced lad with a thick, straw-colored mop of hair sticking out in all directions, as if he’d just been pulled from an electrical socket. His most prominent feature was a snub, freckled nose. From his earliest days, he had been obsessed with motorcycles: he slept with “IZH” catalogues and dreamed of a “Yamaha.” Having recently joined this brigade, he didn’t know that the local stories were more than just bedtime tales; every story smelled of diesel fuel, alcohol, and adventure.
The men, immediately grasping what story was coming, exchanged glances and burst into joyful guffaws.
Zhenya – a swarthy, curly-haired fellow with enormous brown eyes that held the entire tragedy of his heroic past – merely let out a heavy sigh. Feigning a scowl, he cast a gaze around the laughing company, but the corners of his lips betrayed him with a treacherous quiver, revealing a hidden smile. For everyone else, it was a hilarious story. For Zhenya, it meant a month in a hospital bed and eternal ribbing from his comrades.
“And what are you all laughing at?! I spent a whole month laid up in the hospital after that!” he exclaimed with feigned indignation, the same roguish grin still on his face.
“But Zhenya, you’re a real HERO! No!” the excited foreman shouted even louder. “You are the most exemplary, responsible CI-TI-ZEN!!!” – and Mikhalych’s index finger hovered in the air above everyone’s heads, like a solid, physical exclamation mark.
Mikhalych, a wiry, hardy man in his fifties, had wide-open, childlike blue eyes, the corners of which were crinkled with laughter lines. He was barely containing the chuckle that bubbled up inside him. In good company, with a shot glass in his hand, Mikhalych was transformed – his energy was downright infectious.
“No, I mean it, good for you! You thought about the people around you, you worried about their safety…”
“So, what happened then?” Sasha couldn’t hold back, his whole demeanor radiating impatience to hear the story.
Mikhalych mysteriously raised his shot glass. Everyone clinked glasses together and heartily dug into the snacks. Only Zhenya, making a face, knocked it back in one gulp without even reaching for a bite.
And since Mikhalych was known among his friends as the most skilled storyteller, he was the one who began this entertaining tale:
“This happened last August. Our Zhenya here was backfilling the trench after connecting the heating main. It was a Friday evening, right before the weekend. Everyone had gone home, and there was nobody left at the site. Only our watchman, Ivanych, was around, and even then, the guy has been stone deaf in both ears for years. And you can hardly drag him out of his guard shack for anything. So anyway, Zhenya had been messing with something longer than everyone else and was the last one heading to get changed, when he suddenly sees – the manhole cover had been left open!”
“What manhole?” Sasha asked, interested.
“To the underground heating unit, you know, where all the pipes from the heat main are… valves, check valves, pressure gauges, and all that stuff… So, our valiant Zhenya is standing there, scratching his head and thinking: “Well, would you look at that! They left the manhole open! Two days off ahead, kids are running around here – who knows, someone might just fall in! Ought to cover it up…“” Mikhalych cartoonishly portrayed Zhenya scratching his head and, with the zeal of a seasoned storyteller, continued: “And since he couldn’t find the manhole cover anywhere nearby, he had a simply genius idea!” Here he jabbed his index finger against his forehead and declared with pathos: “Absolutely astounding, for an excavator operator!.. Our Zhenya starts up his excavator again, drives up to the manhole, and without a second thought, plops the enormous bucket right down on top of the opening!” Mikhalych accompanied this with a very eloquent gesture.