Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen Glory to the Rooster

The financial assistant Rimsky ran back to the office without waiting for the police to complete the on-site records, as the saying goes: "The nerves can't take it anymore."He sat down at the table, his red and swollen eyes stared at the magical pile of banknotes in front of him, and his mind became a mess.The audience after the show was pouring into the street from several exits, and there was a lot of noise outside the window.Suddenly, a clear trill of a siren touched his extremely tense auditory nerves.A siren is never a good omen, and it was all the more worrisome when the same trill sounded again, each stronger and more persistent than the last.Immediately afterwards, the financial assistant clearly heard some laughter, hissing, sarcasm and jeering.It dawned on him that something terribly ugly and scandalous had happened in the street, and, however much he wanted to believe it, it must have had something to do with some hideous show by magicians.The financial assistant, who has always been sensitive, did not guess wrong at all this time.

Rimsky only glanced out of the window at the Rue de Gardens, and his face immediately convulsed with pain. "I knew it a long time ago!" He didn't whisper to himself, but gritted his teeth and complained. The streetlights seemed to be extraordinarily bright tonight, and in the light he saw: a woman standing on the sidewalk in only a small vest and lavender panties.True, she was wearing a hat with a large brim on her head, and she was holding an umbrella in her hand. The woman was obviously flustered, she wanted to squat down quickly, and wanted to run somewhere, and she didn't know what to do.A large crowd surrounded her, yelling and booing desperately.The roar of laughter sent shivers down Rimsky's spine.A man anxiously circled around the woman, as if he was going to take off his windbreaker and put it on for her, but he was so excited that his arms got stuck in the sleeves, and the windbreaker couldn't be taken off no matter what.

At this time, there was also a burst of shouting and laughter from another place, outside the gate on the left.Rimsky looked back and there, too, was a woman in pink underwear jumping from the middle of the road onto the sidewalk, trying to hide in the door, but the crowd of spectators blocked her way.So this frivolous woman who only knows how to pursue fashion, the victim of the shameful swindler Bassoon House, can only complain that there is no way to heaven and no way to earth.A policeman blew his siren frequently and ran towards the unfortunate woman, followed by a group of cheerful young people wearing peaked caps.It was they who let out a deafening roar of laughter and hissing.

A thin coachman with a moustache drove up to the first woman, reined in his tired horse, with a smug smile on his face. Rimsky punched himself in the head, spat, and turned away from the window. He sat down at the table and listened to the sounds in the street.Howls came from all directions, reached the peak, and then gradually calmed down.The farce ended so quickly, to Rimsky's surprise. Now is the time for him to act.It was his duty to drink this cup of bitter wine.The phone had been repaired by the third episode, and now he had to hang up, report the situation, ask for directions, cover it up, put everything on the manager Likhodeyev, and clean himself up.Phew, what the hell!Twice the distraught finance associate reached for the phone headset and pulled it back both times.The office was as quiet as a grave.Suddenly the phone in front of him rang by itself, making him tremble with fright, his hands and feet were half cold.He thought: "It seems that my nervous system is seriously out of balance." He grabbed the receiver casually.I saw his body flashing back, and his face immediately became like a blank sheet of paper.A serene, charming, even lewd woman's voice came over the phone, and she whispered to him:

"Rimsky, don't call anywhere, or it will be bad for you!" There was silence in the receiver.The assistant felt a chill down his spine, and a layer of goose bumps appeared all over his body.He put down the receiver and for some reason looked back at the window behind him.The mechanical tree outside the window has just grown new leaves, and through the sparse branches, he saw a bright moon passing through the thin clouds like a veil.For some reason, his eyes were attracted by the branch, and he stared at it, the more he looked, the more he was controlled by a strong sense of fear.

With difficulty, he took his eyes off the moonlit window and stood up.He didn't dare to think about hanging up the phone anymore, and now he could only think about one thing: it's best to get out of the theater as soon as possible. He listened attentively, and the whole theater was silent.He suddenly realized: I was the only one on the second floor of the theater for so long!It made him shy like a child, and he shivered at the thought of having to walk alone through empty corridors and down the stairs.Nervously, he grabbed the magic banknotes on the table and stuffed them into his purse, wanting to cough to embolden himself, but the cough sounded so hoarse and weak.

At this time, he suddenly felt a damp and rotten smell coming in from under the office door, sending chills down his spine.But the wall clock rang suddenly, which made him tremble again.The clock struck twelve.Then his heart almost stopped beating when he heard what seemed to be the slight turning of the English-made latch on the door with a key.He clutched his bag tightly in sweaty hands, thinking that if the latch continued to rattle, he would not be able to help screaming. At last the door yielded to human strength—it was swung open, and Rimsky saw Varenukha, the general affairs assistant, enter quietly.Feeling his legs go limp, he plopped down on the easy chair, heaved a sigh of relief, made a flattering smile on his face, and said in a low voice:

"My God, you scare the hell out of me!" Indeed, such a sudden appearance would surprise anyone.However, the appearance of the General Affairs Assistant is also cause for joy: this series of strange things finally revealed a little clue. "Come on, come on, tell me, what's going on?!" Rimsky asked in a hoarse voice, trying to grasp this clue. "Excuse me," Varenukha said in a low voice as he closed the door, "I thought you were gone." He sat down in the soft chair opposite the desk without taking off his hat. It should be noted that Rimsky was always known for his astuteness, and the sensitivity of his senses rivaled that of the best seismographs of any seismic observatory in the world.Therefore, of course, he immediately noticed something suspicious in Varenukha's answer: what's going on?Since you thought I was gone, why did you come to my office?He has his own office!Besides, whichever door he entered the theater he was bound to meet the night shift, and I had informed all the night shift that I had work to do and that I would be in the office for a while.

However, Rimsky didn't think much about it, he couldn't care less about it now. "Why didn't you even call back? What happened to those things in Yalta?" "Well, I told you earlier," said the General Affairs Assistant, smacking his lips, as if suffering from a toothache, "and found him in a small restaurant in Pushkino." "Pushkino?! Why, Pushkino from the suburbs? Then why the telegram from Yalta?" "What Yalta, hell with him! He got the pushkino telegraph operator drunk, and the two of them started a mess together, including sending a telegram marked 'Yalta'."

"Oh... oh... all right, all right..." Rimsky wasn't talking, he was almost singing.A buff gleam flashed in his eyes, and he conjured up a festive image of Manager Likhodeyev being dismissed.Liberated!The long-awaited day to get rid of Likhodeyev, the scourge, has finally arrived!Maybe Styopa Likhodeyev will end up in a situation worse than being dismissed... Rimsky picked up the ink blotter on the table and slammed it vigorously, saying loudly: "Go on, tell me the details!" Then Varenukha went into details with relish... As soon as he arrived at the institution to which the financial assistant sent him, he was immediately interviewed.The relevant personnel listened carefully to his report.Of course, no one thought that Styopa would be in Yalta, no one thought so, and agreed with Varenukha's analysis: Styopa Likhodeyev must be in the "Yalta" restaurant in Pushkino.

"Then where is he now?" the financial assistant interrupted him excitedly. "Oh, where else can it be? Of course it's in the sober room!" Varenukha smiled triumphantly. "Well, well! Ah, thank God!" Varenukha is still talking.The more he went on, the more Likhodeyev's crimes were listed before the financial assistant, and each one became more infuriating.He was very drunk, and on the grass in front of the telegraph office, accompanied by obscene songs played by the accordion, he hugged the operator and danced his folk dance.This one is enough for him!He also chased after women, scaring the girls to scream!Pick a fight with the waiter in the "Yalta" restaurant!Throwing a basket of raw onions all over the floor in the restaurant!Smashed eight bottles of "Idaniel" brand white wine? Because the taxi driver didn't want to take him, he smashed the odometer on his car!Threats of arrest against those who tried to dissuade him! ...In short, he made a mess. Styopa Likhodeyev was also a rather well-known figure in Moscow theater circles; everyone knew that he was eccentric and not to be trifled with.But all that Varenukha had said today was too much even for Styopa.Yes, too much.It's even too much... Rimsky fixed his piercing eyes on Varenukha's face across the table.The further Varenukha went on, the darker his eyes became.The more vividly and vividly he recounted the details of Styopa's prank, the bigger the question mark in the finance assistant's mind grew.When he mentioned that Styopa even had the audacity to resist with force some of the policemen who tried to send him back to Moscow, Rimsky knew perfectly well that everything the General Affairs Assistant had said, who had come back late at night, was all nonsense. !A complete lie! Varenukha did not go to Pushkino, and Styopa himself did not go to Pushkino at all.The drunken radio operator and the broken glass in the tavern, it's all nonsense, no one tied Styopa with a rope... In short, it was all fabricated. Once it became clear that Varenukha was lying to his face, Rimsky felt a new sense of dread spread from his heels all the way through his body, and he felt a musty, malarial damp from the door. Get under the seam into the house.At this time, the General Affairs Assistant sitting on the opposite chair shrank inexplicably, as if trying to hide in the blue shadow of the lamp light as much as possible, and covered his face strangely with a newspaper, as if he thought the light dazzled his eyes.Rimsky stared at him intently, wondering to himself: What does all this mean?Why did the General Affairs Assistant who came back so late tell such shameless lies to him in this deserted, empty building?Rimsky was painfully aware of the danger at hand--a danger that was unexplained, but utterly dire.So he stopped listening to Varenuha's nonsense, pretending that he didn't notice the opponent's flaws, and didn't notice the way he was covering up with newspapers, and began to carefully observe the opponent's face.At this time, he found that the appearance and behavior of the General Affairs Assistant were somewhat different from before.This new discovery is even more inexplicable than the inexplicable lie of the Pushkino farce. Although the general affairs assistant tried to pull the cap over his eyes so that the light did not shine on his face, and although he covered it with newspapers, Rimsky saw a large bruise on the right side of Varenukha's face, next to his nose. spot.In addition, Varenukha, who was usually rosy, now had a sallow complexion, as if he had suffered a serious illness, and for some reason on this sultry night, he still wore an old checked scarf around his neck.If you think of some of the new ailments he has acquired during his absence—sniffing and lip smacking—listen to his hoarse voice that has become muffled, and look at the timid, treacherous look in his eyes. It can be said with complete certainty that Varenukha, the general affairs assistant, has become unrecognizable. It seemed that there was something else that disturbed Rimsky even more, but no matter how intensely his fevered head worked, no matter how closely he examined Varenukha, he still could not figure out what it was.Only one thing was clear to him: the current combination of the general affairs assistant and the soft chair he was familiar with seemed very strange and unnatural. "All in all, people had a hard time subduing him and stuffing him into the car." Varenukha finished his detailed description in a low voice, peeking at Rimsky from behind the newspaper, covering his face with his palms. bruises. Rimsky suddenly stretched out a hand to the table, and at the same time tapped his fingers on it, as if by accident, with the palm of his hand, he pressed the button of the electric bell.But he was immediately petrified. There should have been a shrill bell ringing all over the building at once, but it didn't ring, and the bell button sank into the tabletop and never popped again—the bell was broken. Varenukha had already seen this trick of the financial assistant.The muscles on his face twitched, a vicious light flashed visibly in his eyes, and he asked: "What are you ringing the bell for?" "I accidentally touched it," Rimsky replied in a low voice, withdrawing his hand, and at the same time asked uncertainly: "What's the matter with your face?" "The car swerved and I hit the door handle," Varenukha said, turning his face away. The financial assistant thought to himself: "Lie!" At this moment, he inadvertently glanced under the soft chair where Varenukha was sitting. Upholstered back. There are two crossed shadows of chairs on the floor behind the soft chair, one is dark and black, the other is light gray, the shadow of the back of the soft chair and the thin shadows of several chair legs are clearly printed on the floor However, there was no shadow of Varenukha's head above the shadow of the back of the chair on the floor, and no shadow of his legs could be seen under the chair. Rimsky trembled all over, and exclaimed to himself: "Oh, he has no shadow!"① ①According to superstition, ghosts and ghosts have no shadow. Varenukha turned around, followed Rimsky's dull gaze to the floor behind the chair, and immediately understood: she had been found out. Then Varenukha got up from his chair (Rimsky could not help standing up too), stepped back from the table, clasped his handbag in both hands and said: "Let you see through, you damned! You are said to be clever, and it is true." Varenukha smiled viciously at Rimsky's face, and suddenly jumped from the soft chair to the door , quickly pushed down the latch button, and locked the door upside down.Involuntarily Rimsky stepped back in despair towards the garden window, looking back as he retreated.Then he saw a naked girl outside the window.With her face pressed against the moonlit pane, she thrust an arm through the upper vent, and was about to undo the lower latch.The upper latch has been pulled out. Rimsky felt that the desk lamp was about to go out, the desk was already tilted, and he was as cold as cold water.However, fortunately, he controlled himself after all and did not fall.He was already powerless to shout, and with all his strength, he whispered: "Help,..." Varenukha, who was guarding the door, kept jumping, and could hang in the air for a long time after jumping.He waved at Rimsky with crooked fingers, hissed, clicked his lips, and winked at the naked girl outside the window. The woman was obviously in a hurry.She stuck her head through the ventilation window, her reddish-brown hair hanging loose, and she thrust her arms in as far as she could, clawing at the lower latch with her fingernails, shaking the window frame.Then her arms began to elongate, as if they were made of rubber, and her skin color turned a corpse-like light green.The female corpse's fingers finally grasped the bolt head of the vertical latch, turned it, and the window slowly opened.With a feeble cry Rimsky leaned against the wall, holding his handbag to his chest like a shield.He understood: the end is coming. The whole window is open.But instead of the fresh night air and the scent of linden leaves, it was the musty smell of the cellar that rushed into the room.The female corpse stepped onto the window sill.Rimsky could see clearly a large sore on her breast. Just at this moment, a rooster crowed suddenly from behind the small shooting range in the garden.What a delightful sound! (There was a small coop where the circus kept chickens for performances.) The big trained roosters sang at the top of their throats, heralding the arrival of dawn from the east to Moscow. Crazy resentment completely changed the woman's face, and she cursed hoarsely.Varenukha, who was guarding the door, screamed and fell from the air to the floor. Another rooster sang.The female corpse's teeth rattled, and the brown-red hair stood on end.After hearing the third rooster crow, she turned around abruptly and fled.Immediately afterwards, Varenukha also jumped up from the floor, flattened his body in mid-air, and flew over the writing desk like a flying Cupid, and slowly floated out of the window. ① The god of love in Roman mythology, that is, Eros in Greek mythology.There are two wings on the back, good at flying. Rimsky, who had just been in the prime of his life, turned into a gray-haired old man in an instant, without a single black hair on his head.He ran to the door, pulled the button on the latch, opened the door, rushed into the dark corridor, and ran forward without looking back.Groaning in pain, he ran to the corner before the stairs before he finally found a light switch.The stairs were lighted, but the terrified old man fell down the stairs, because he felt Varenukha's body sink limply over his head. Rimsky ran downstairs, saw the attendant dozing in a chair near the box office in the anteroom, tiptoed around and ran out of the theater gate.It wasn't until he came to the street that he felt significantly better, and his mind gradually became clear. He even touched his head and realized that he had left his hat in the office. It goes without saying that Rimsky did not go back for his hat.Panting, he ran across the wide road to a dim little red light at the corner of the opposite cinema.Within a minute he was at a red light, fortunately the taxi hadn't been hired yet. "Go to the express train station, go to Leningrad, hurry up! I'll give you more tips!" The old man covered his left chest with his hands, panting with difficulty. "I'm going back to the garage." The driver replied contemptuously, turning his head away. Immediately Rimsky opened the purse, took out fifty rubles, put it through the glass window of the open front door, and handed it to the driver. A few seconds later, a rattling old taxi was speeding down the garden ring road like a whirlwind, and the passengers in the car were jolted.In the small broken glass mirror in front of the driver, Rimsky sometimes caught the driver's happy gaze, and sometimes saw his own stupid eyes. Rimsky jumped out of the car in front of the station, grabbed a man in a white apron with a number plate at random, and said: ①A person who purchases tickets, carries luggage or provides other services for passengers at the station. "For a first-class ticket, I'll give you thirty rubles," he said, pulling out a handful of bills from his purse. "If you don't have first-class, you can buy second-class, and if you don't--buy a hard seat!" The person with the number plate looked back at the luminous clock in front of the station, and grabbed the banknote in Rimsky's hand. Five minutes later, an express train pulled out from under the station's high glass vaults and disappeared into the night.Rimsky disappeared at the same time.