Ickie took the news about our new dwelling surprisingly calmly. Only after several minutes of contemplating dark streaks on the ceiling and heaving deep sighs did his true thoughts and emotions express themselves in words.
“These are times when everything is valued,” he said with his eyelids drooping: “odd galoshes, empty bottles and even yesterday’s newspapers, but pure, sincere feelings are depreciated and thrown out like household garbage, like something shameful and useless.”
“Come on, stop whining,” you blurted out. “We saw your inclinations, and thank you very much for that.”
You sounded ironic, but Ickie, apparently, didn’t notice it. Taking it literally, he straightened and answered rapidly:
“I am so glad, so glad, with all my heart. I mean it. My inmost secrets and everything, just everything, including my humble dwelling, is from now on at your disposal.”
And his shoulders started jittering with wheedling laughter, or was he sneezing, not laughing? With Ickie, I couldn’t shake off a strange feeling that all this had already happened to us many times before, and not long ago. He reminded me of a clock hand, always passing through the same events in strict accordance with a universal schedule. When he was done jittering, he went to the opposite wall. Picking a dirty spot on his vest, he stared at us; his eyes were shining with lust for the flesh and with unspeakable triumph.
So what I did actually was, I studied the certain issue from all sides and found something quite surprising. Some people look at us with disgust because we are unnatural, while others, on the contrary, admire us because we are unnatural, an admiration that is no less deformed than we ourselves are! “Poor Ickie, his life is so sad and monotonous,” I thought, watching him go. “He is trapped in debilitating gloom and fatuity and there is no way to save him.” But only now do I understand that he was actually happy, in his own way. It is not important that his life became so fouled up, extremely boring and antisocial. Above all, he felt warm and cozy in his own world even if it was not obvious, and everything else didn’t matter. He never judged anyone and didn’t have much interest in ordinary people. He thought their lives were as pathetic and ruined as they believed his life was. But once a three-legged or one-armed person appeared, the look in his eyes changed dramatically, and life quite unexpectedly acquired fresh colors and sense. Ickie didn’t quit the dream of dedicating his life to the circus, but the whole world around him turned into a circus. And we validated it all, happening by chance to participate in some of his improvised performances, too!
I have only fragmentary memories of our former life. Everyday routine accelerates time, letting it flow away and be lost. However, I remember, one winter we were standing in the tunnel, and a passerby, looking like an ordinary guy who came out of the crowd, thrust a fifty ruble banknote into my hand. By the evening we already had four fifty ruble bills. Furthermore, in the daylight people came to us and offered to exchange paper money for small change, giving us extra payment. We were literally shining with happiness, as we had an opportunity to earn more – five, ten, or sometimes twenty times as much as usual; and it didn’t even come to our minds that there was a reason for such generosity (Monetary reform of 1991 in the USSR – exchange of large denomination banknotes carried out in the USSR in January-April, 1991. Exchange of the withdrawn notes was followed by essential restrictions: • Short deadlines of exchange – three days from January 23 to January 25 (Wednesday to Friday). • No more than 1000 rubles per one person; the possibility to exchange the bills beyond that limit was considered by special commissions until the end of March, 1991. The reform resulted in a loss of trust of the population in the government’s actions). Well, when the supervisor came, he just got furious and tore all the large denomination bills into shreds, muttering:
“Dumbasses, another time I’ll tear you up.”
Taking away all our collected small change and pushing away one of the cripples, he poured out of the tunnel. Same as his deceased predecessor, the pug, Compass Legs couldn’t understand the basics: there’s nothing great in humiliating those who are on the receiving end. “What can I say,” after being knocked down, the cripple grumbled dimly, expressing everyone’s opinion: “Foolish is as foolish does.”
By a twist of fate, we turned out to be in a special environment, the special environment where things can be seen most clearly. The tunnel was our auditorium, with daily classes in psychology and philosophy. We secretly watched people reckless, sly, rejecting all the best created by previous generations in pursuit of a better life: tearing former pictures, throwing out old books, changing erstwhile slogans – swearing off anything valuable in the country’s history. Thoughts of survival became rooted in people’s minds so deeply and tenaciously that all principles of conscience were discarded as useless, and only “saving” alcohol could quench the thirst for oblivion and idleness. Those times we didn’t drink very often and exchanged vodka, which had became a principal means of payment, for food or services. The prices rose daily (This refers to price liberalization or price deregulation – element of the economic policy of the Russian government in the early 1990s involving weakening of government control over pricing. Price liberalization led to increases in prices considerably exceeding the growth of money supply, resulting in its real compression. Thus, the GDP deflation index and the consumer price index increased approximately 2400-fold from 1992 to 1997, and M2 monetary aggregate increased approximately 280-fold for the same period), but life just kept getting worse the more alms we received. Probably, misfortune unites people. In those moments they were particularly capable of compassion for other people’s grief. Losses, disappointments and imperfections that had filled the country made passersby feel much more similar to each other than ever before.
And then that old acquaintance of ours, the blind gipsy, appeared. I felt severely sick that day; maybe that’s why I clearly remembered her widely open, motionless eyes looking away but seeming to see through. Having rummaged in the depths of her pocket, she took out an old coin which was no longer in circulation, and threw it on the ground in front of us.
“Thank you,” I couldn’t help saying.
“Keep your thank you notes for later. Today I’m going to tell Compass Legs,” she perfectly knew his moniker, “to shift you to another spot.”
“What’s the sense?” We were surprised simultaneously.
“Always and everywhere there is a sense,” she responded patiently. “Today I’m helping you, tomorrow you’re helping somebody, and then someone will help me. And another thing, if someone touches you with a shadow of his little finger, just tell me.”
“But how do we find you?” you wondered.
“I will find you,” and this muddy-eyed fish smiled with her gold teeth and yelled so loud that she could be heard all over the tunnel. “Well, precious ones, see you here or there. Keep in touch.”
A new spot again, and how many of them are going to appear throughout our lifetime? No one knows.
The next day Compass Legs rapidly explained our new “working” conditions to us. We gave him all our money, collected for the day in exchange for free food and accommodation. Indeed, why take away a part if you can take away the whole!? Supervisors know their business: a person – in our case, two persons – who has no choice can be easily twisted around your little finger.