Vanka Teplyashin
Vanka Teplyashin was in the village hospital with a duodenal ulcer. He had been there for quite a while when some fellow from the regional centre turned up. The doctor called Vanka to his office, and he and the other fellow turned Vanka this way and that, squeezed him, mashed his stomach, and tapped his back... They discussed something among themselves then said to Vanka:
"How would you like to go to the hospital in town?"
"Why?" asked Vanka, who couldn't figure out what was going on.
"They can take care of you there, the same as here. And Sergei Nikolayevich will be your doctor."
So Vanka agreed.
He was well cared for in the city hospital, and soon, the whole staff was calling him the "classic case".
"Where's our classic case?" the nurse would ask.
"Having a smoke in the can, most likely," replied the other men in Vanka's ward. "Where else could he be?"
"Smoking again?! I don't know what we're going to do with that classic case of ours!" the nurse would say with a sigh.
For some reason, Vanka didn't like the city hospital very much. He spent most of his time telling the other men in the ward about the various adventures which had befallen him in life: about how he had almost lost his driver's license the year before and how he had sunk his truck in the river...
"There was a big mound of ice ahead of me, so I opened the door and hit the gas. Suddenly, the ice cracked, and I was going down!.." Vanka talked hurriedly, waving his arms and jumping from one place to another in his story. "I went sliding down like it was a real hill! Water beat against the windshield! A chunk of ice hit the door, and it slammed shut. So there I was sinking fast with the door jammed- I couldn't get it open for the life of me. I was already swimming inside the cabin, so I opened the door on the passenger's side, slipped out, and went up to have a look around."
"Yeah, right. You 'slipped out and went up to have a look around!' No sense in lying to us-we weren't born yesterday, fellow."
Vanka, his honest eyes popping out, raised up on his bed.
"Me, lie?!" he sputtered, but couldn't find another word to say for a while. "Wha... I'm not kidding. How could I possibly lie? Wha..."
And true enough, if you took a good look at Vanka, you would realize he really couldn't lie. After all, lying, just like anything else, is something you have to know how to do.
"So tell us what happened next, Vanka. Don't pay any attention to him."
"So I looked up and saw some kind of blue hole overhead. I started swimming for it with all my might."
"How long were you actually under water?"
"I have no idea. Not very long, I guess. It's just taking me a long time to tell the story. And I keep getting interrupted..."
"Well, what happened next?"
"I crawled out of the hole, that's what. There were already people running toward me. They took me to the closest house."
"And I bet they poured vodka down you first thing."
"No, first they rubbed me down with Red Carnation cologne to warm me up, so I reeked of it for a whole week. Then they ran to get some vodka."
...Vanka didn't even notice how the melancholy set in. He would stand by the window for hours, looking down at the street below-a street quite alien to his heart and mind. It was strange indeed: lots of noise and shouting, but no one could hear anyone else. Everybody was in a hurry, but from his vantage point high above, all the people looked exactly the same, and it seemed they weren't really getting anywhere: they were just running in place. Soon, Vanka grew accustomed to the people and cars in the street below... Once in a while a really hot number in a mini-skirt would pass by, and he would follow her eagerly with his eyes. But aside from that, it was all the same. Vanka was seized by melancholy and felt very lonely indeed.
So you can imagine his joy and amazement when down there, in the world below, he suddenly caught sight of his mother... She was making her way across the street, glancing from side to side, afraid of getting hit in the traffic. It was his dear mother, his very own mother! So she came after all!
"My mama's coming! " he shouted out joyfully to everyone in the ward.
This surge of human ecstasy was so unexpected that all the men burst out laughing.
"Where is she, Vanka?"
"There she is-the lady with the big shopping bag!"
Vanka leaned impossibly far out of the window and shouted: "Hey, Mama! I'm up here!"
"You'd better go downstairs to meet her," the more experienced patients told Vanka. "Officially, there aren't any visiting hours today, and they might not let her in."
"Sure they'll let her in if she tells them she's come all the way from the village," one of the men said.
"She'll never get in no matter where she came from if that skinny orderly with the red eyes is on duty at the door! Boy, is he a mean one!"
So Vanka raced downstairs.
But his mother had already been stopped by the skinny orderly with the red eyes. She was asking him to let her in to see her son, but he wouldn't even listen to her.
"She's come to see me!" Vanka began to explain as soon as he saw what was happening. "This is my mother."
"We have visiting hours only on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday!" the red-eyed orderly recited in a wooden voice.
Vanka's mother was overjoyed to see him and was about to race past the orderly to meet him, but he stopped her at the door.
"Not another step!"
"I told you, she's come to see me!" Vanka shouted. "What's the matter with you?!"
"We have visiting hours on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday," the orderly repeated in his deadpan voice.
"But I had no way of knowing that," his mother pleaded. "I've come all the way from the village to see my son. Honestly, I didn't know. Can't we just sit somewhere to talk for a little while at least..."
Vanka was shocked by how pitiful his mother's voice sounded. She had switched intentionally to a tiny, pitiful voice to plead with this man... And Vanka was ashamed that his mother would allow herself to be humiliated. So he told her to be quiet.
"Don't say another word. Mama. I'll talk with him."
"I'm just trying to explain why..."
"Not another word," Vanka ordered her. "Listen here," Vanka began, addressing the orderly. But the latter did not deign to glance in his direction. "Listen, fellow, it's you I'm talking to," Vanka continued, raising his voice.
"Vanka!" His mother gasped in warning, knowing how easily her son could fly off the handle.
The orderly continued to stare indifferently into the distance as if no one were standing behind him and in front of him.
"Let's go over there and have a seat," Vanka said calmly to his mother, indicating a bench behind the orderly. And he walked placidly by the man.
"Get back in here!" the orderly spat out as he attempted to grab Vanka by the sleeve.
But Vanka was ready for him, and as soon as the orderly touched him, Vanka jerked his arm up sharply, knocking the orderly's hand away. Paling visibly, but still calmly, he told his mother:
"Let's go sit on that bench right over there."
Vanka had anticipated the orderly's next move too. He knew the skinny, red-eyed fellow would try to grab him from behind. Sure enough, the orderly latched on to the collar of Vanka's striped pyjamas and jerked so hard, it hurt Vanka's throat. So Vanka grabbed the orderly's wrist and mashed so hard, it made him grimace with pain.
"If you touch me one more time," Vanka hissed softly but menacingly right in the orderly's face, then paused, trying to find the words to continue, "then you ... and I are going to have serious trouble."
"Vanka, please don't," his mother begged, almost in tears. "Dear God, oh, dear God..."
"Have a seat," Vanka told her in an almost hoarse voice. "Sit down right here, and tell me how everything is at home..."
The red-eyed orderly froze for a moment, then jerked into motion and raised the alarm in a loud voice.
"Where's Elizaveta Sergeyevna?! Yevstigneyev, get over here on the double'" he shouted. "This fellow is breaking the rules!" With that, he spread his arms wide as if he had to catch a raving lunatic, and lit out after Vanka. But Vanka sat right where he was, merely tensing his body and looking up at the orderly. But that gaze was sufficient to stop the man dead in his tracks. He glanced around and shouted once more: "Yevstigneyev!"
From a room that was off to one side emerged his fellow orderly, Yevstigneyev, a huge, broad-shouldered fellow in a white lab coat. Yevstigneyev had a half-eaten bun in his hand...
"What?" he asked, not understanding what rule was being broken and where.
"Over here!" shouted the red-eyed orderly, spreading his arms wide and preparing to attack Vanka again.
But Vanka was ready for him, and the orderly went flying.
By then Yevstigneyev realized what the matter was and went after Vanka.
...But the second orderly didn't manage to put a scratch on Vanka either, though Yevstigneyev was a big strong man. The two of them went after him with all their might, but to no avail. Vanka tried to be careful so fewer chairs would go flying. But hard as he tried, the duty-orderly's desk got knocked over anyway, and a pitcher of water sitting on it was smashed to smithereens. With that, a hue and cry was raised, and people in white coats came running from everywhere. One of them was Sergei Nikolayevich, Vanka's doctor. The others barely managed to calm down Yevstigneyev and the red-eyed orderly. Vanka was taken back upstairs by Sergei Nikolayevich himself. The doctor was extremely upset.
"How in the world did all that happen, Vanka?"
Now, for some strange reason, Vanka was perfectly calm. He realized that now he would go home. He even told his mother to wait for him.
"Why in the devil were you fighting with them?" the young doctor asked, unable to comprehend the reason. Vanka respected Sergei Nikolayevich greatly.
"He wouldn't let my mother in."
"You should have gotten me, and I would have let her in. Go back to your ward, and I'll bring her up to see you right now."
"There's no need to. We're going home now."
"I can't let you go home now! You're not well yet!"
But Vanka wouldn't give in. He was actually surprised at himself. He realized he was so calm because he knew he was going home. Sergei Nikolayevich took Vanka to his office and tried to convince him to stay. He even said:
"Look, your mother can stay at our house for a few days-she can stay as long as she wants. We've got plenty of room. You're not well yet, Vanka. I can't let you go. It's not fair to me for you to run off before I'm finished with you. Don't pay any attention to those idiots downstairs-they're both hopeless! I'll let your mother come to visit you every single day!"
"No," said Vanka, remembering the pitiful voice his mother had used to plead with the red-eyed orderly. "No, we really couldn't..."
"I won't sign the papers for you to leave!"
"Then I'll jump out of window. I'll run off in my pyjamas in the middle of the night!"
"Well," sighed Sergei Nikolayevich in disappointment. "I'm sorry you feel that way..."
"Don't worry about it," said Vanka, feeling quite cheerful already. He was just a bit sad that the doctor was so disappointed. "You'll find another patient with ulcers... That red-headed guy by the window in our ward has ulcers, too."
"That's not the point, Vanka. You really shouldn't leave yet. You're not well."
"No, I'm going home anyway," Vanka announced, feeling better every minute. "Please don't be angry at me."
"Well, what can I do?.." said Sergei Nikolayevich, still quite distressed. "I can't force you to stay, but perhaps you'll think about it before you make a rash decision. Calm down and think about it for a while..."
"No, I've already made up my mind."
With that, Vanka raced off to the ward to collect his things.
When he got there, all the other patients started fussing at him:
"You idiot! Where do you think you're going!"
"Don't you know Sergei Nikolayevich would make sure you were all the way well before he let you go home?!"
But none of them understood that soon, he and his mother would be on the bus, and he'd be home in a couple of hours. There was no way any of them could understand that.
"You're going to let some stupid orderly interfere with your good health! Don't be an idiot, Vanka!"
"He has to be a human being first of all," Vanka announced with vengeful calm verging on solemnity. "Don't you see?"
"Sure we do. It's too bad you let your temper get the best of you."
"You should have slipped that red-eyed fellow fifty kopecks, and everything would have been fine. Don't you see?"
Vanka cheerfully bid them all farewell, wished everyone good health, and headed down the stairs with a light heart.
He had to hand in his hospital garb and get his street clothes, which were stored down in the basement. As luck would have it, Yevstigneyev was issuing the street clothes that day. He looked at Vanka with no malice in his eyes and said with slight regret:
"So they threw you out... Well that's what you get..."
As he was handing Vanka his clothes, he leaned over and whispered with belated reproach:
"You should have given him fifty kopecks, and everything would have been fine. No noise, no trouble. But you young people! What's the world coming to! Didn't you realize that's what he wanted?"
"He should be a human being, not a money-grubber," Vanka intoned importantly. But there in the stuffy basement reeking of moth-balls, surrounded by a multitude of coat-hangers, these lofty words did not sound solemn at all. Yevstigneyev didn't even notice them.
"Are these your shoes?"
"Yes."
"It's stupid to go home before you're well..."
"I'll get well at home."
"What makes you think so? I wouldn't be so sure..."
"Goodbye and good health to you!" said Vanka.
"And the same to you. Why don't you try to explain things to the doctor? If you had a talk with him, he might let you stay. Why in the devil did you have to get tangled up with that idiot?"
Vanka didn't bother to explain the actual state of affairs to Yevstigneyev. He just rushed back upstairs to his mother, who, he was certain, was sitting with the red-eyed orderly crying her eyes out.
Vanka was right: his mother was sitting on the bench behind the orderly's desk, wiping the tears from her eyes with her shawl. The red-eyed orderly was standing straight as an arrow at his post, staring down the corridor, on the look-out for wrong-doers. Vanka's heart started poundering as soon as he caught sight of the man. He wanted to give the fellow a piece of his mind in the strongest terms possible, but he just couldn't find the right words.
"Good health to you," said Vanka. "Prissy pants."
The orderly blinked in surprise but didn't turn his head. He just kept staring down the corridor.
Vanka took his mother's bag, and they left the city hospital which had such a fine reputation thereabouts- as rumor had it, they could practically cure cancer.
"Don't cry," Vanka said to his mother. "What's the matter?"
"It seems you can't go anywhere without getting it trouble," his mother voiced her bitter thought. "It was the same at the vocational school..."
"O.K. Enough already. The heck with that stupid vocational school, too. But there's one thing I've got to tell you: please don't ever beg and plead for anything the way you did with that old fool orderly. 0. K. ?"
"You'll never get anywhere if you don't ask once in a while."
"Yes, but not the way you were doing it. I was so ashamed!"
"Ashamed, were you? Here I am running around trying to get all the papers signed for my pension. If I never ask anybody, I won't get very far, will I?"
"O.K. Enough already," Vanka conceded. He could never out-argue his mother, that was for sure. "How is everything at home?"
"Just fine. So will you go back to our hospital until you're well, then?"
"I don't know," said Vanka. "I feel a lot better already."
A short while later, they were at the bus station, and soon they were on the bus, headed for home.
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