Chapter 1. 2. Souvenir

  Many of them, with their flaws, could have been useful, could have served.

  On the outskirts we saw people.

  For many years, no one but us had visited these places.

  They had always had a bad reputation.

  We hid, because a broad-shouldered guy was walking towards us, accompanied by important people.

  They pointed to urban ruins, addressing him.

  “This is Athlete,” said Lagoon, adjusting his interesting cap. “I recently made him laugh. This is not a figure!”

  “This is our new mayor's manager,” said Effect. “He is the strongest. The mayor is gone, but the manager is here. He is agile. You won't believe it, he is a child.”

  “Really?”

  “I didn't believe it myself at first. Everyone says he is very capable.”

  “I see, a great future.”

  When the manager and his retinue went ahead, we climbed out and shook ourselves off.

  Why we hid, I don't know.

  Habit.

  “The mayor's house is empty,” Effect reported. “The previous mayor has disappeared, and the new mayor is absent.”

  Lagoon suddenly jumped on me, and we rolled in the dust.

  “Freedom!” Lagoon exhaled.

  Vitamin was sitting on our rock.

  He was playing chess with some girls.

  “I lost again,” one girl said with a smile.

  “My move,” said Vitamin. He casually held one hand on her shoulder, and it hung loosely, as if it were removable, and you could see how his hand relaxed.

  The rock was next to the sea, and water sometimes splashed onto it. Tourists never came near us.

  Vitamin put the chess piece aside and bent his hands.

  They were the hands of a sculptor.

  Nectar and my younger sister Oasis were coming down the stairs in bathing suits, with huge bags of unusual sizes, but almost weightless and durable.

  “You're late today,” I noticed.

  “We couldn't resist buying,” explained Nectar. “Fantastic bags, right?”

  “Excellent taste,” I said modestly.

  “A furor!” said Nectar and laughed.

  Vitamin sunbathed absently.

  I led the girls past Effect drying in the sun, who, raising his head, smiled briefly and boldly, opening his mouth with small teeth.

  The girls were surprised, but said nothing.

  “The saleswoman was looking in my direction,” Nectar said with a grin. “I think she decided that we were tourists.”

  “Every old-timer should be prepared for this,” Vitamin spoke up.

  “It's strange,” Nectar said. “But why?”

  “It's banal.” Vitamin opened his eyes and looked at the water. “At one point, everyone is the same.”

  “But why?” repeated Nectar, or rather, it was a different question, but I said it anyway:

  “Your moments did not coincide.”

  “True.”

  Nectar calmed down.

  Effect, having finally dried off, settled down under an umbrella with colorful magazines.

  Vitamin and the girls were sunbathing.

  The girls were beauties.

  Lagoon slid into the water.

  In frustration, he began to swim along the cliff and call Effect.

  “Attraction!”

  Effect hated a joke.

  He glared at Lagoon, and honestly, it would have impressed and scared an outsider.

  I looked at the large jellyfish, slightly tilted in the clear water.

  It was hot.

  Vitamin and the girls lay motionless.

  They were about to leave soon.

  Suddenly, Effect screamed wildly - Lagoon had doused him with water.

  He jumped up, looking even more menacing, but Lagoon grabbed him by the leg without hesitation, and he fell into the water, and his offender was already on the cliff, pulled up like a leech.

  Everyone watched indifferently as Lagoon slowly walked along the edge of the cliff and from time to time deftly stroked the head of the hapless Effect, like a ball.

  “Painted monkey,” Effect finally croaked and swam away in panic, regretting only the magazines he had left behind, which were whistling toward him one after another.

  Lagoon was furious.

  He was ready to give chase, but I called out to him, jumping into the boat.

  The sea was a bit muddy these days.

  After the hurricane, a lot of seaweed was brought in, and it lay like a net on the sand or swayed in the water.

  There were a lot of jellyfish.

  If you ignore this, it was a good day.

  The water near the shore was transparent.

  There were rocks in the water.

  The waves splashed the large-pored surface, and in a moment it dried up.

  I was the first to dive. Lagoon remained in the boat, lying imposingly.

  I, looking into the purple darkness below, slowly, releasing long streams of exhaust air, went into the depths.

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  I moved along the cliff.

  The full package, swaying, went up in smooth jerks, and a silent splash was visible on the surface.

  By lunchtime, the boat was loaded with pearls and fish. Lagoon was in high spirits.

  Any profit had a beneficial effect on the robber.

  On the way to the shore, Lagoon dived omnivorously and got very large pearls, believing that the more, the better.

  We carefully brought the boat to the rocks.

  Water was noisily beating into the boat.

  On the shore, Lagoon settled down with taste, having assumed the pose of a primitive man making fire, and for the rest of the day thoroughly absorbed the gifts of nature.

  He often and impatiently looked at the beach, waiting for someone, then hurriedly left.

  The sunset was dying out.

  Across the entire horizon, squeezed by the darkness of the night coming into its own, a light strip stretched.

  Its color noticeably thickened.

  I reached the crater at the bottom.

  It was a favorite place for rare glasses of abstract beauty.

  Delivered to the surface, they do not lose their quality.

  I swam underwater.

  Pisces with predictive eyes swam slowly next to me.

  It was as if I was floating in the air.

  The only glass without a mollusk moved from its place.

  I stretched out my hand.

  Glass was caught without difficulty, the main thing was to guess when it appeared from the depths.

  Sometimes it happens before bad weather, sometimes - right after.

  Now there was peace at the bottom.

  In the thickness of the water, a small barracuda was visible scurrying between the stones.

  It was alone.

  The fish did not pay attention to it, but they were in no hurry to get caught.

  After quickly examining the glass Expression – bright red color mixed with sound of a piercing blues – I rushed up and emerged among the waves, wiping my face.

  The sun had long since set.

  I sat in the boat and relaxed.

  The shore was not visible.

  The water around swayed like a film.

  In the darkness, the boat was barely discernible.

  The boat was being pulled into the ocean, but it couldn't get past the island. The lights scattered along the coast Atmosphere were becoming noticeably fewer.

  The last lights flickered on the tops of the distant hills, then they disappeared, and immediately the sound of an invisible surf was clearly heard.

  I sank into the water.

  A dense wave touched me.

  The waves around were running up to the shore with a faint noise. The thickets were dark not far away. The sky was strewn with stars.

  There were many stars above the horizon, like at the zenith.

  The wind blew dry sand off the smooth beach.

  The thickets are inhospitable at night, and I quickly made my way to the path.

  It was much quieter on the path. I shone the flashlight to the side.

  A green cord hung on a liana.

  One end grew larger, the other one decreased, and the snake slid off the liana and sucked itself into the leaves.

  Deep in the jungle was a house belonging to the virtuoso Drama.

  It had cost him a lot to build it in this corner of the wild, near the slums.

  I didn't understand why he needed it. His nerves were very weak.

  The deserted slums Interior are avoided by everyone.

  All sorts of surprises awaited everyone here. Everyone imagined something.

  Why Drama needed to live here is unclear.

  The virtuoso was rich, famous. I had known him since childhood, and the only thing he needed was a drink and the company of a pretty woman who was ready to listen to him endlessly.

  He had enough of all this on the coast. Now he had to buy a yacht.

  Once upon a time he had a family. The celebrity was unlucky. The family, like everyone else, got lost in the capital.

  The windows were lit.

  I'll have to disturb the owner at this late hour, and his nerves are playing up, I thought, experiencing a smooth, exciting flight on a liana, and I remained on the roof, and the twitching liana disappeared into the darkness.

  I stopped near the Drama office. Muffled voices were heard behind the massive door.

  “And what are you actually rebelling against?” Drama said arrogantly. “Everything happens for the sake of the simplest exchange - to consume, to produce a circulation of substances with unchanging qualities through a shell. For the sake of this applied meaning, the most absurd, often monstrous, from a human, spiritual point of view, things are done. The main thing is that the well-worn, time-tested, primitive mechanism continues to be implemented, progressively, without variations, without transformations, intractably...”

  I opened the door.

  Drama, standing in the middle of the room, turned around abruptly. The stillness of his gaze was frightening.

  “Hello!” I said from the door.

  An immense carpet occupied the entire floor of the office. A television was playing silently in the corner.

  On the wall hung a prim portrait of a virtuoso, such as you can find in other places. The virtuoso was a local landmark.

  All the details and strokes in the portrait corresponded to the original, but there was no attractive resemblance.

  In his paradoxical fables, with which Drama playfully treated progressive society, it was asserted that everything real naturally occurs only gradually, that the alluring inner content can only be conveyed by extremely gentle, careful external means, and in no other way, that it is like the core of a wheel, effortlessly spinning only from light superficial touches.

  Who needs the naked, unadorned essence?

  “Incognito!” Drama began to breathe again. “Did something happen to you?”

  A pair of attentive eyes studied me.

  At the low, palette-like table sat the woman from whom Lagoon had stolen the suitcase.

  “No,” I said. “Nobody should worry. The current carried the boat away.”

  “Have you been boating?” the woman asked.

  On her face was an expression of an inquisitive, lively mind, accompanied by a frequent polite smile.

  Her large eyes seemed absent-minded, but this only emphasized her interest in her interlocutor. She must be a newspaper girl, I thought.

  “I found a crystal.”

  “Really? What does it mean?” she asked Drama.

  “Nothing.” He smiled. “By the way, it has value. A useless thing, but an amazing, unique beauty. A souvenir. Something that only nature can give.”

  “What is it?” the woman continued to ask. “Will you show it to me?”

  I thought about it and said:

  “If we have such an opportunity.”

  “Help yourself,” said Drama.

  I sat down next to the woman.

  “What's new in town?” asked Drama.

  “It seems that the audience is waiting for a new service?” said the woman.

  “New service, old service,” Drama spoke irritably, getting worked up. “What's the difference? It's all... a storm in a teacup. How do you know this, Information?”

  “I was in the archive today. A new service of local origin, but no one knows anything about it.” Information took a sip from her glass. “The main thing is, why this one? In a consumer society, the mayor is a service. It's an artificial person. For example, you.”

  Drama patriotically chewed his mouth and said meaningfully:

  “It always remains a secret. It's politics.”

  “There was no choice.” What an energetic face, I thought. At first glance she seemed younger. “What interest in changing the service now, at the beginning of the season?” she continued.

  Drama waved his hand rebelliously, but it was clear that he was listening.

  “Have you been here long?” I asked.

  “Me? Long... I don't remember. My supplies are sufficient.” He smiled serenely.

  “No one is bothering you?”

  There are such people. They will always understand you.

  “I didn't want to say it, but a well-mannered young man promised to help me. Can you imagine, my suitcase was stolen in a funny way. Nothing special... nothing valuable, I wanted to say,” the woman quickly added, “and this young man is the only one who expressed his sympathy.”

  Of course. Who in the hotel wants to have a dispute with Lagoon? They'll quickly find out what kind of celebration this is.

  “My promise remains valid.” I looked from one face to the other.

  He's a nice man, this Drama. He drinks a lot, of course, and hasn't created anything for a long time. He's nervous, but nice.

  You can feel the constant, tense, idle work in him, as if an important detail from the mechanism has disappeared.

  Now he was talking, again pacing from the door to the window, about how tired he was of everything.

  How tired he was of the coast. How tired he was of the capital.

  How he wanted to be far away from the hustle and bustle, from all these police stories.

  But in his works, evil was impressive.

  “There is no light in life. In society, everything is rigidly predetermined, and there is no place for a weak soul, and there is no salvation from this,” he proclaimed. “Our completely artificial civilization needs something, where there is nothing natural, but only countless imitations of it, where no one knows anything about themselves for sure, where everyone learns everything from birth and then is not sure of anything their whole life. We need to return to the sources. The first piece of meat that fell into the ancient fire...”

  My eyes were closing. The voice stopped. I opened my eyes.

  Drama was standing by the window, looking into the darkness with a distorted face.

  I quickly approached him, at the same time as Information.

  “No!” whispered Drama, as if pushing us away. “Don't look at it! What if it... looks too?”