How we were brought back to normality

Do you remember our adventure with the bridge near the Vltava River? If so, you probably also know that the whole story ended with a few days' vacation in a psychiatric hospital.

We didn't spend much time there. On the other hand, there was enough time to get a feel for the place and meet some of the more interesting local characters.

One of them was named Felda Morawiec; an incredibly colorful character, an incomparable storyteller, and a walking encyclopedia of every joke ever told. On the surface, he even looked quite normal and didn't raise any suspicions that he was crazy.

And yet...

At the stroke of the hour, he would abandon all, even the most urgent, activities and freeze, his eyes fixed on the post. Then, as a rule, he would declare:

"Sixteen divided by four equals five...

" "Not exactly, Felda," Irka burst out laughing when he heard it for the first time, "but take comfort in the fact that I'm also bad at science!

" "Sixteen divided by four equals five..." Felda steadfastly stuck to his guns.

"In principle?" my friend mused, "why not? Who cares how many fours there are in sixteen? Maybe you're right, my friend...

" "Sixteen divided by four equals three..." Felda would instantly change tack.

He was such a joker.

These math outbursts lasted about five minutes on average. During that time, we tried every possible way to coax the correct answer out of him. In vain, of course. And then the patient would return to normal, completely forgetting anything that had happened a moment ago. At least that's what he claimed, but we weren't so sure.

In any case, with the chime of the round cuckoo, Felda, with admirable punctuality, would begin to divide.

One time, Irka even stopped the clock, and we watched with interest to see what would happen.

It turned out Felda had a perfectly regulated internal clock and wasn't afraid of any malfunctions. He said, precisely to the minute,

"Sixteen times four equals five... broken cuckoos."

He had a wicked sense of humor.

The day we were finally released, it was sunny and beautiful. Just like the day we went for a smoke.

We walked together across the hospital parking lot, and Felda waved cheerfully at us through the open window and shouted,

"Come visit us often, guys!"

He had a real sense of humor.

From the other side of the parking lot, our friend, a mustachioed quack, approached. He strode briskly toward his Wartburg, whistling happily after his shift.

A small surprise awaited him. The car turned out to be somewhat incomplete: some clever individuals had stolen the hubcap and removed all the bolts from one wheel, which, in this situation, could have veered off in all sorts of directions, endangering the doctor's precious health.

The doctor wrung his hands. He walked around the car and stood helplessly.

Felda watched him curiously for a moment, then shouted,

"Doctor! Doctor! Use one of the bolts from each of the other wheels! That way, there will be three more on all four wheels! And somehow you'll get there! "

The doctor scratched his head and muttered in astonishment,

"But that's a perfectly reasonable, rational, and logical solution!"

"I always suspected you were completely sane!" he added, turning loudly to Felda. "You're not crazy!"

"I'm here! I'm here!" "Felda yelled, adding with a malicious smile, "but I'm not an idiot!"

Then, seeing the doctor's frown, he quickly slammed the window shut.

We bowed politely to the doctor, biting our lips with laughter.

And with the slow pace of tired long-distance runners, we set off toward the Old Town.

And at the door of our studio apartment, correspondence awaited us—someone slipped a handwritten note behind the doorframe.

"It's from Marika," Irka said, his eyes quickly scanning the letter. "She says she's going crazy with anxiety, and people are saying we jumped off a bridge into the Vltava River.

" "It's probably old Novakova spreading such rumors," I muttered. "She probably regrets she couldn't push us off in person."

We had barely managed to get our feet over the threshold when an urgent knock sounded.

It was Marika in her own beautiful, though slightly out of breath, with a flushed face and hair still flowing from the run.

"There you are!" she threw her arms around Irka's neck. "There you are! You're alive!

" "I'm alive!" Irka winked at me. "But what's life without a drop of alcohol?"

"Hello." Marika patted my shoulder and sat down heavily in the armchair.

"It touches me greatly that you're so worried about me," Irka smiled mischievously. "I finally feel needed by someone.

" "I'm worried..." Marika hesitated for a moment, "but this time not disinterestedly... I have to tell you something... Personally and directly!

" "At your service, lady!

" "I'm leaving...

" "Fine, but first tell me what you have to say.

" "I'm telling you. I'm leaving... from you, Irka."

My friend was speechless for a long moment.

"Oh!" he finally said.

"I've been thinking about it for a long time," she said quickly. "I've reached a certain age, I want to start a family, have children, and you... and you, despite your age, are still a fledgling teenager and often behave like a brat!"

"Oh!" my friend repeated and asked:

"Is this supposed to be some kind of blackmail?"

Marika shook her head.

"This is Irek's farewell. "

My friend was slowly regaining his composure.

"Are there any worthy successors yet? Or have you just set a trap and are you off hunting?

" "There's..." Marika hesitated for a moment, "there's a successor... Zdenek Blecharz!

" "Blecharz?!!" Irka jumped in place and burst into loud laughter. "That pompous hypocrite?!

"Very decent.

" "Boring as dishwater!

" "Seriously thinking about the future.

" "That pimply person with the comical briefcase in his hand?!

"He has a great job at city hall.

" "I give up!" Irka spread his hands helplessly. "Do what you want and don't blame me later!"

"Did you hear what I heard?" "—he asked me quietly, nodding in her direction.

"Well..." I grunted, embarrassed, "a rather painful return to normality. Life itself, my dear friend."

Marika was getting ready to leave. Before she pressed the doorknob, she turned and said,

"Despite everything, I'm very glad nothing happened to you... You know how much I liked you.

" "Sixteen divided by four equals five!" my friend replied, sticking out his tongue at her.