Man from the South [Человек с юга]

A waiter came out of the shadows at the back and stood beside the table. 'Do you want the roast pork and potatoes?' he asked. 'That's all we've got left.'

'Roast what and potatoes?'

The waiter took a dirty handkerchief from his trouser pocket and shook it open. Then he blew his nose loudly. 'Do you want it or don't you?' he said, wiping his nose.

'I don't know what it is,' Lexington answered, 'but I'd love to try it. I'm writing a cookbook and ...'

'One pork and potatoes!' the waiter shouted, and somewhere in the back of the restaurant, far away in the darkness, a voice answered him.

The waiter disappeared and soon returned carrying a plate on which there lay a thick grey-white piece of something hot. Lexington leaned forward anxiously to smell it.

'But this is absolutely heavenly!' he cried. 'What a smell! It's wonderful!'

The waiter stepped back a little, watching the youth.

'I have never in all my life smelled anything as wonderful as this!' Lexington cried, seizing his knife and fork. 'What is it made of?' But the waiter was moving backwards towards the kitchen. Lexington cut off a small piece of the meat and put it into his mouth, beginning to eat it slowly, his eyes half closed.

'This is wonderful!' he cried. 'It's a fine new flavour! Oh, Glosspan, I wish you were here with me now so that you could taste this dish! Waiter! Come here at once! I want you!'

The waiter was now watching him from the other end of the room.

'If you will come and talk to me, I will give you a present,' Lexington said, waving a hundred-dollar note. 'Please come over here and talk to me.'

The waiter came cautiously back to the table, seized the money and put it quickly into his pocket.

'What can I do for you, my friend?'

'Listen,' Lexington said. 'If you will tell me what this dish is made of, and exactly how it is prepared, I will give you another hundred.'

'I've already told you,' the man said. 'It's pork.'

'And what exactly is pork?'

'Have you never had roast pork before?' the waiter asked, staring.

'Just tell me what it is.'

'It's pig,' the waiter said. 'You just put it in the oven.'

'Pig!'

'All pork is pig; didn't you know that?'

'You mean this is pig's meat?'

'Of course.'

'But ... but ... that's impossible,' the youth said. 'Aunt Glosspan said that meat of any kind was disgusting and horrible, but this is without doubt the most wonderful thing I have ever tasted. How do you explain that?'

'Perhaps your aunt didn't know how to cook it,' the waiter said.

'Is that possible?'

'It certainly is. Especially with pork. Pork has to be very well cooked or you can't eat it.'

'That's it!' Lexington cried. 'That's exactly what must have happened. She cooked it wrong!' He handed the man another hundred-dollar note. 'Lead me to the kitchen,' he said. 'Introduce me to the man who prepared this meat.'

Lexington was at once taken to the kitchen, and there he met the cook, who was an old man with large, unpleasant red patches on his skin.

'This will cost you another hundred,' the waiter said.

Lexington was happy to pay, but this time he gave the money to the cook. 'Now listen to me,' he said. 'I am really rather confused by what the waiter has been telling me. Are you quite sure that the dish I've been eating was prepared from pig's flesh?'

The cook raised his right hand and began scratching his neck.

'Well,' he said, winking at the waiter, 'all I can tell you is that I think it was pig's meat.'

'Do you mean you're not sure?'

'One can never be sure.'

'Then what else could it have been?'

'Well,' the cook said, speaking very slowly and still staring at the waiter. 'There's just a chance that it could have been a piece of human flesh.'

'Do you mean - a man?'

'Yes.'

'Good heavens!'

'Or a woman. It could have been either. They both taste the same.'

'Well - now you really surprise me,' the youth said. 'One lives and learns.'

'In fact, we've been getting a lot of it recently from the meat factory in place of pork,' the cook declared.

'Have you really?'

'The trouble is, it's almost impossible to tell which is which. They're both very good.'

'The piece I had just now was wonderful.'

'I'm glad you liked it,' the cook said. 'But to be quite honest, I think that was a bit of pig. In fact, I'm almost sure it was.'

'You are?'

'Yes, I am.'

'In that case we shall have to believe you,' Lexington said. 'So now will you please tell me - and here is another hundred-dollar note for your trouble - will you please tell me how you prepared it?'

The cook, after taking the money, told Lexington how to cook pork, while the youth, not wanting to miss a single word, sat down at the kitchen table and recorded every detail in his notebook.

'Is that all?' he asked when the cook had finished.

'That's all, but you must have a good piece of meat and it must be cut right.'

'Show me how,' said Lexington. 'Kill one now so I can learn.'

'We don't kill pigs in the kitchen,' the cook said. 'The meat you've just eaten came from a slaughterhouse.'

'Then give me the address!'

The cook gave him the address, and Lexington, after thanking them both many times for their kindness, rushed outside and went by taxi to the slaughterhouse.

It was a big brick building, and the air around it smelled sweet and heavy. At the main entrance gates, there was a large notice which said: VISITORS ARE WELCOME AT ANY TIME. Lexington walked through the gates and entered a yard which surrounded the building itself. He then followed some signs (THIS WAY FOR THE GUIDED TOURS) and came to a small hut near the main building (VISITORS' WAITING ROOM). After knocking politely on the door, he went in.

There were six other people in the waiting room. There was a fat mother with her two little boys aged about nine and eleven There was a bright-eyed young couple and there was a pale woman with long white gloves, looking straight ahead, with her hands folded in front of her. Nobody spoke. Lexington wondered whether they were all writing cookbooks, like himself, but when he put this question to them aloud, he got no answer. They just shook their heads and smiled.

Soon the door opened and a man with a pink face came into the room and said, 'Next, please.' The mother and the two boys got up and went out. About ten minutes later, the same man returned. 'Next, please,' he said again, and the couple stood up and followed him outside.

Two new visitors came in and sat down - a middle-aged husband and a middle-aged wife, the wife carrying a basket.

'Next, please,' said the guide, and the woman with the long gloves got up and left. Several more people came in and took their places on the wooden chairs. Soon the guide returned for the third time, and now it was Lexington's turn to go outside.

'Follow me, please,' the guide said, leading the youth across the yard towards the main building.

'How exciting this is!' Lexington cried.

First they visited a big area at the back of the building where several hundred pigs were wandering around. 'Here's where they start,' the guide said. 'And over there is where they go in.'

'Where?'

'Right there.' The guide pointed to a long wooden shed that stood against the outside wall of the factory. 'This way, please.'

Three men, wearing long rubber boots, were taking a dozen pigs into the shed just as Lexington and the guide arrived, so they all went in together.

'Now,' the guide said, 'watch how they catch them.'

Inside, the shed was simply a bare wooden room with no roof, but there was a metal wire with hooks on it that kept moving slowly along the length of one wall. When it reached the end of the hut, it suddenly changed direction and climbed upwards through the open roof towards the top floor of the main building. The twelve pigs were brought together at the far end of the hut. They stood quietly and looked anxious. One of the men in rubber boots pulled a length of metal chain down from the wall and advanced upon the nearest animal from the back. Then he bent down and quickly put one end of the chain around one of the animal's back legs. The other end he put on a hook on the moving wire as it went by. The wire kept moving and the chain tightened. The pig's leg was pulled up and back, and the pig itself began to be dragged backwards until it reached the end of the hut, where the wire changed direction and went upwards. The creature was suddenly pulled off its feet and was carried up. The pig's cries filled the air.