Ольга Палагина – Stories from Lyubavino. Chronicle of an extraordinary Incident (страница 7)
She cautiously moved a little closer, threateningly raising the frying pan just in case.
The cat – that furry scoundrel – had taken a seat nearby, like the lord of the manor, and with undisguised curiosity began to study the twitching limbs of the newly appeared biped who had the unprecedented audacity to invade his domain. He, unlike his mistress, possessed excellent night vision and a sharp sense of smell and had immediately figured out where this mishap had fallen from.
Yelena, on wobbly legs, crept closer and, squinting hard (as all visually impaired people do), peered intently at the object of her interest… A-a-and… Indeed discovered bare, hairy male legs dangling in the air.
Not trusting her myopic eyes, she risked raising her gaze higher – to the point from which those very legs were growing! But whether it was disbelief at the sudden windfall of female happiness in the form of a naked man, or being even more frightened by it, she squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that her eyeballs nearly pierced the back of her own skull; from such a squeeze, she reflexively jerked backward.
And then it dawned on her: it was her upstairs neighbor. Or rather, his lower half.
But just how in the blazes did he end up here?! And absolutely stark naked, to boot!
With a purely feminine curiosity, after briefly studying the neighbor’s dangling lower portion, she suddenly came to her senses and, covering her eyes with her palm in a show of modesty, addressed the unexpected visitor with a rather strange question:
“Is that you?..”
Silence hung in the air… Only the cat sitting nearby, raising an eyebrow meaningfully, seemed to say: “Well, yes, of course it’s him. Who else could it be?”
Then she realized she had asked an absolutely foolish thing and posed a more sensible, or so it seemed to her, question:
“And how did you end up here??!” She still didn’t know the neighbor’s name.
Sergei, who until the last moment had naively believed his acrobatic sketch would remain a secret, upon hearing this fatal question from below, understood – his hopes were utterly shattered. He even thought he could hear the clinking sound of those shattering hopes.
What to say? His mind was filled with nothing but white noise. With a grimace of martyrdom on his face, he closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, and tried to pull himself up again. But yet another heroic attempt to climb back onto his own loggia ended in complete fiasco.
He was desperately lacking support. His shoulders and arms remained up top, but maintaining this position was becoming more and more difficult – the muscles in his arms were hopelessly beginning to tire. An acute necessity arose to haul up, as quickly as possible, everything that was so helplessly dangling down below.
Suddenly picturing his lower body in the company of the unfamiliar but very pretty girl, he realized with horror: he was absolutely, categorically naked!
Shame and awkwardness overwhelmed him. He was ready to sink through the ground! Although, dear reader, as you can see, he had already successfully managed to do just that!.. From a feeling of utter helplessness, Sergei let out a quiet whimper.
Meanwhile, Yelena cast a fleeting glance at her cat. He was focused to the utmost, and despite her own eyesight problems, she understood as clear as day: her fluffy strategist had declared a hunt on the neighbor’s “jingling bells” and was already preparing to charge after his prey with his signature victory cry of “Murr-meow!”
Having assessed the situation in the blink of an eye, she snatched a towel from the dryer with one graceful motion. She girded the loins of the poor soul whose future was now literally hanging by a thread, thereby saving not only him but also his reproductive prospects.
And, while she was at it, if truth be told, she covered up those anatomical details that so embarrassed her.
Sergei, feeling that his gaping nakedness had finally been charitably covered, was deeply embarrassed and, stammering slightly, shouted from above:
“Thank you… M-ma’am… I don’t know your name…”
For a moment, he considered going downstairs, but when he imagined the eyes of this young and attractive neighbor, he immediately dismissed the idea. “I’d better get up there somehow,” he decided. He would be unbearably ashamed to look into those eyes.
“Y-you’re welcome… Yelena, my name is Yelena Yuryevna…” she replied, matching his tone and also stammering from awkwardness.
“V-very nice to meet you… Sergei… Sergei Alexandrovich…”
“Likewise…” came the voice from below.
“What a wildly absurd situation I’ve gotten into… What a complete disaster!” he continued his mental monologue with inexpressible indignation. “Me, an educated man, a third-generation doctor, from a good family, and I end up in such a mess…!”
Fully aware that gravity is a treacherous lady and one can’t hang in such a position for long, the hereditary doctor nevertheless decided to try to get back up. In a slightly strained voice, he addressed his neighbor:
“Yelena, please don’t think me impudent… Would it be too much trouble to put something under my feet? P-please… I just need something to brace against…”
“Yes, yes, right away!” Yelena instantly vanished into the darkness of the apartment.
She, in turn, was also absolutely not keen on having the neighbor end up in her apartment, since she was in a state completely unsuitable for any kind of visit: practically half-naked, in a ridiculous short nightgown, without any underwear, in curlers, with a face mask on, and with her toes splayed apart due to the separators. And in the dead of night, no less! Quite a sight indeed! Therefore, just a moment later, Sergei found a pouf under his feet, and on it, a stool. Leaning on this wobbly but salvific construction, he managed to hoist himself back up.
Yelena followed the disappearing bare heels vanishing into the gaping hole in the ceiling with a pensive gaze. Suddenly, a realization dawned on her: she was going to miss this guest, who had appeared so unexpectedly and so dramatically. Along with it came the understanding of a bitter truth – her brand-new stretch ceiling was irrevocably ruined.
The towel that had slipped from Sergei Alexandrovich’s hips during his “vertical takeoff” lay forlornly on the floor.
“I’m sorry… Sergei Alexandrovich…” Yelena shouted into the black abyss. “You’ve gone and torn my ceiling here…”
After a short pause, a familiar, slightly guilty voice came from the hole:
“Yes, yes… I apologize, Yelena… Yelena Yuryevna… It turns out I have a hatch to the balcony here… And I completely forgot about it in the dark… I’ll compensate you for everything. I’ll send my ceiling guy over. Thank you… Sorry again… I’ll make it all right…”
“It’s quite alright…” Yelena replied, picking up the towel from the floor. “These things happen…”
But only one thought was spinning in her head: “Do these things really happen?!”
But, dear friend, the story of Yelena and Sergei does not end here at all. Oh no! It is only just beginning. And you and I are going to witness the development of their relationship, which undoubtedly promises to be no less spicy than the scene we have just described. Perhaps even more so…
We most certainly promise to share all the amusing details of their further interactions with you, a bit later, following the strictest chronology.
For now… meanwhile…
Chapter V The Glass Epic: The Beginning
Meanwhile, it was Friday morning. In an apartment of a modest five-story building nearby, an intriguing series of events was beginning to unfold – a cycle so tragically comical and absurdly farcical that it could make even the most hardened cynic question the laws of the universe.
But as we all know, reality is what happens to us while we’re making other plans. And it must be said that reality’s plans for Nikolai Vladimirovich that weekend were truly grandiose.
And it all started with a Gogolesque prank. In fact, it was too Gogolesque.
On this fateful Friday, Nikolai Vladimirovich – a young man who seemed the picture of balance, with a good job, an exemplary family man, and the father of two charming children of the same age (a walking monument to domestic bliss, straight out of a mortgage advertisement) – instead of gently waking his wife with kisses, felt an irresistible urge…
No, not to work hard, but to crawl to his wife’s side of the bed. Yes, to that sacred territory of the marital bed where mere mortals are strictly and categorically forbidden to tread!
Why? A question worthy of Shakespeare’s pen! Perhaps it was retrograde Mercury, or perhaps simply a man’s desire for change. In any case, his wife’s spot seemed an oasis of comfort and coziness at that moment. He was determined to move there at all costs, eager to spend his precious morning hours in bliss.
With the tact of a bulldozer but the softness of a cat, Nikolai Vladimirovich carefully (yet persistently!) nudged his wife over and sprawled out on the conquered territory with the triumph of Napoleon entering a subdued Moscow. With relish, he inhaled the delicate scent of perfume and cosmetics emanating from her pillow.