By then Volka came to himself. His cheeks turned pink again and his spirits rose.
“The boy’s perfectly well,” said Pyotr Ivanych. “And if you want my opinion, he’s an unusually healthy child! I think he was probably overworked. He must have studied too much before his exams, because there’s nothing wrong with him. And that’s all there is to it!”
Just in case, though, he measured some drops into a glass, and the unusually healthy child was forced to drink the medicine.
Suddenly, Volka had an idea. What if he could profit from Hottabych’s absence and take his geography examination right there, in the doctor’s office?
“By no means!” Pyotr Ivanych said emphatically. “By no means. Let the child have a few days of rest. Geography can wait.”
“That’s quite true,” the teacher sighed with relief, pleased that .everything had turned out so well in the end. “And you, my young friend, run along home and have a good rest. When you feel better, come back and take your exam. I’m positive you’ll get an ‘A.’ What do you think, Pyotr Ivanych?”
“Such a Hercules as he? Why, he’ll never get less than an ‘A’+!”
“Ah … and don’t you think someone had better see him home?” Varvara Stepanovna added.
“Oh no, Varvara Stepanovna!” Volka cried. “I’ll make out fine.”
All he needed now was for a chaperone to bump into that crazy old Hottabych!
Volka appeared to be in the pink of health, and with an easy heart Varvara Stepanovna let him go home.
The doorman rushed towards him as he was on the way out. “Kostylkov! Your grandpa, or whoever he is, the one who came here with you…”
At that very moment, old man Hottabych appeared from the wall. He was as happy as a lark and immensely pleased with himself, and he was humming a little tune.
“Help!” the doorman cried soundlessly and tried in vain to pour himself another cup of tea from the empty kettle. When he put the kettle down and turned around, both Volka Kostylkov and his mysterious companion had disappeared. By then they had already turned the nearest corner.
“Pray tell me, young master, did you astound your teacher and your comrades with your great knowledge?” Hottabych inquired proudly, breaking a rather long silence.
“I astounded them all right!” Volka said and looked at the old man with loathing.
Hottabych beamed. “I expected nothing else! But for a moment there I thought that the most revered daughter of Stepan was displeased with the breadth and scope of your knowledge.”
“Oh, no, no!” Volka cried in fear, recalling Hottabych’s terrible threats. “You were imagining things.”
“I would have changed her into a chopping block on which butchers chop up mutton,” the old man said fiercely (and Volka was really frightened for his teacher’s fate), “if I hadn’t seen that she had such great respect for you and took you to the door of your classroom and then practically down the stairs. I realized then that she had fully appreciated your answers. Peace be with her!”
“Sure, peace be with her!” Volka added hastily, feeling that a load had fallen from his shoulders.
During the several thousand years of Hottabych’s life, he had often had to do with people feeling sad and gloomy, and he knew how to cheer them up. At any rate, he was convinced he knew how to do so. All that was needed was to give a person that which he had always longed for. But what kind of a present should he give Volka? The answer came to him quite by chance when Volka asked a passer-by:
“Would you please tell me what time it is?”
The man looked at his watch and said, “Five to two.”
“Thank you,” Volka said and continued on in silence.
Hottabych was the first to speak.
“Tell me, O Volka, how was the man able to tell the time of day so accurately?”
“Didn’t you see him look at his watch?” The old man raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“His watch?!” “Sure, his watch,” Volka explained. “He had a watch on his wrist. The round chrome-plated thing.”
“Why don’t you have such a watch, O most noble of all Genie-saviours?”
“I’m too young to have such a watch,” Volka answered humbly.
“May I be permitted, O honourable passer-by, to inquire as to the time of day?” Hottabych said, stopping the first person he saw and staring at his watch.
“Two minutes to two,” the man answered, somewhat surprised at the flowery language.
Thanking him in the most elaborate oriental manner, Hottabych said with a sly grin:
“May I be permitted, O loveliest of all Volkas, to inquire as to the time of day?”
And there was a watch shining on Volka’s left wrist, exactly like the one the man they had stopped had, but instead of being chrome-plated, it was of the purest gold.
“May it be worthy of your hand and your kind heart,” Hottabych said in a touched voice, basking in Volka’s happiness and surprise.
Then Volka did something that any other boy or girl would have done in his place, having found themselves the proud possessors of their first watch. He raised his arm to his ear to hear it tick.
“O-o-o-o,” he drawled. “It’s not wound. I’ll have to wind it.” To his great disappointment, he found he could not move the winding button. Then he got out his pen-knife to open the watch case. However, try as he would, he could not find a trace of a slit in which to insert the knife.
“It’s made of solid gold,” the old man boasted and winked. “I’m not one of those people who give presents made of hollow gold.”
“Does that mean there’s nothing inside of it?” Volka asked with disappointment.
“Why, should there be anything inside?” the old Genie inquired anxiously. Volka unbuckled the strap in silence and returned the watch to Hottabych.
“All right, then, I’ll give you a watch that doesn’t have to have anything inside.”
Once again a gold watch appeared on Volka’s wrist, but now it was very small and flat. There was no glass on it and instead of hands there was a small vertical gold rod in the middle. The face was studded with the most exquisite emeralds set where the numbers should be.
“Never before did anyone, even the wealthiest of all sultans, have a hand sun watch!” the old man boasted again. “There were sun dials in city squares, in market places, in gardens and in yards. And they were all made of stone. But I just invented this one. It’s not bad, is it?”
It certainly was exciting to be the only owner of a sun watch in the whole world.
Volka grinned broadly, while the old man beamed.
“How do you tell the time on it?” Volka asked.
“Here’s how,” Hottabych said, taking hold of Volka’s hand gently. “Hold your arm straight out like this and the shadow cast by the little gold rod will fall on the right number.”
“But the sun has to be shining,” Volka said, looking with displeasure at a small cloud that just obscured it.
“The cloud will pass in a minute,” Hottabych promised. True enough, in a minute the sun began to shine once again. “See, it points somewheres between 2 and 3 p.m. That means it’s about 2:30.” As he was speaking, another cloud covered the sun.
“Don’t pay any attention to it,” Hottabych said. “I’ll clear the sky for you whenever you want to find out what time it is.”
“What about the autumn?” Volka asked.
“What about it?”
“What about the autumn and the winter, when the sky is covered with clouds for months on end?”
“I’ve already told you, O Volka, the sun will shine whenever you want it to. You have but to order me and everything will be as you wish.”
“But what if you’re not around?”
“I’ll always be near-by. All you have to do is call me.”
“But what about the evenings and nights?” Volka asked maliciously. “What about the night, when there’s no sun in the sky?”