Roadside Picnic

He jumped up and excused himself. I saw that Dick was back. He was standing by his chair and I could see in his face that something had happened.

"Your tanks losing their vacuum again?"

"Yep,” he said. “Again."

He sat down, poured himself a drink, freshened mine, and I could see that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with faulty goods. To tell the truth, he couldn't care less about the shipments—a model worker!

"Let's have a drink, Red.” Without waiting for me he gulped down his drink and poured himself another. “You know Kirill Panov died."

I was so stoned that I didn't quite understand. Someone died. So what.

"Well, let's drink to the departed."

He looked at me with his round eyes and only then did I feel as if a string had snapped inside my body. I remember that I got up and leaned against the table. I looked down at him.

"Kirill?” The silver web was before my eyes and I could hear it cracking again as it tore. And through the eerie sound of the cracking I could hear Dick's voice as though he were in another room.

"Heart attack. They found him in the shower, naked. Nobody knows what's happened. They asked about you. I told them you were in perfect shape."

"What's to understand? It's the Zone."

"Sit down. Sit down and have a drink."

"The Zone,” I repeated. I couldn't stop saying it. “The Zone, the Zone … "

I couldn't see anything around me except for the silver web. The whole bar was caught in the web and as people moved around, the web crackled softly as they touched it. The Maltese boy was standing in the middle. His childlike face was surprised—he didn't understand a thing.

"Little boy,” I said gently. “How much do you need? Will a thousand be enough? Here, take it. Take it!” I shoved the money at him and started shouting: “Go to Ernest and tell him that he's a bastard and scum. Don't be afraid! Tell him! He's a coward, too. Tell him and then go straight to the station and buy a ticket for Malta! Don't stop anywhere."

I don't remember what else I shouted. I do remember ending up in front of the bar and Ernest giving me a glass of soda.

"You're in the money today?” he asked.

"Yes, I've got some."

"How about a little loan? I have to pay my taxes tomorrow."

I realized that I had a bundle of money in my hand. I looked at the wad and muttered:

"That means he didn't take it. Creon of Malta is a proud young man, it seems. Well, it's out of my hands. Whatever happens now is fate."

"What's the matter with you?” my pal Ernie asked. “Had a little too much?"

"Nope, I'm fine,” I said. “Perfect shape. Ready for the showers."

"Why don't you head on home? You've had a little too much."

"Kirill died.” I said to him.

"Which Kirill? The one-armed one?"

"You're one-armed yourself, you bastard. You couldn't make one man like Kirill from a thousand like you. You rat, you son of a bitch, you lousy scum bastard. You're dealing in death, you know that? You bought us all with your dough. You want to see me tear your little shop apart?"

And just when I reared back to lay a good one on him I was grabbed and hauled off somewhere. I couldn't understand anything then and I didn't want to. I was shouting and fighting and kicking and when I came to I was in the John, all wet, and my face was in lousy shape. I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror. My cheek was twitching, I'd never had that before. Outside I could hear a racket, dishes breaking, the girls squealing, and Gutalin roaring louder than a grizzly: “Repent, you good-for-nothings! Where's Red? What have you done with him, you seeds of the devil?” And the wail of the police siren.

As soon as I heard it, everything became crystal clear in my brain. I remembered everything, knew everything, and understood everything. And there was nothing left in my soul but icy hatred. So, I thought, I'll give you a party! I'll show you what a stalker is, you lousy bloodsucker! I pulled out an itcher from my watch pocket. It was brand new, never used. I squeezed it a couple of times to get it going, opened the door into the bar and tossed it quietly into the spittoon. Then I opened the window and climbed out into the street. I really wanted to stick around and see it all happen, but I had to get out of there as fast as possible. The itchers give me nosebleeds.