SAVAGE TENANTS I

 

Protecting secrets, I look through the glass that distorts my vision. I hear a whisper that causes a constant headache. It's like the hissing of a thousand snakes, "Protect us, don't betray us! You can't, or we'll be sad, and when we are, so will you. Remember!"

I remember a bright day .

They came with flowers.

They caressed me.

They were a touch, a scent.

Waiting for the dizziness

. They explained. They said, "It's beautiful ."

They were the explanation

. The secrets moved into the house, into my house, not a big one, but my own. I didn't protest. It simply happened. Imagine my amazement when, magically, they enlarged the size of my apartment. "This is for you, Happy One, and make new friends at the same time." They were like a foreigner from a certain Master's novel. And so life spun like a carousel. New acquaintances, new tenants, new tricks for enlarging the apartment. And everything would have been the same if they hadn't stopped explaining.

There are dreams that no one can interpret, or rather, no one should. Why? Because every attempt will be another lie.

After waking up, I realized, without the help of my friends, that it wasn't my house that was expanding. It was the house that had the property, or rather the tendency, to shrink, to become smaller. I panicked then, "God, what will happen when I return home one day and there's no room for me there anymore?" I decided to get rid of the burden. But all I had time to think was, "Protect us, don't betray us..."

II

...suddenly darkness. I think I've lost my memory. It vanished. I'm walking down the street, hurrying, running up every now and then. I glance around furtively. To get a good look at the buildings, I have to tilt my head up. They seem as if they're about to arch, creating a tunnel, thus separating me from the sky. They're like hypnosis. I feel a feeling of claustrophobia slowly creeping over me, I'm breathing very nervously, I'm feeling stuffy, what's going on, help...

"Damn it, the fucking curb!" I almost hit the cobblestones with my nose. When I got back together, I saw scattered garbage and an overturned trash can. I looked around. It was good there was no one around; someone could have accused me of vandalism. I could already see an old woman beating me with a cane, barely standing, screaming, "Drunk enough, he's also knocking over trash cans." The story of the old woman amused me so much that I started smiling to myself. Again, I looked around involuntarily, and after making sure I was alone, I moved on.

Suddenly, I was overcome with a strange, unpleasant feeling that not only was there no one on this street, but the entire city. Had I missed something, overslept, been late, been left out?forgotten.

My thoughts were interrupted by an explosion. It was so massive, as if someone had gathered all the sounds in the world and gathered them in one place. With it came a blinding flash of light. I opened my eyes...

...suddenly silence. Without really knowing what had happened, I began to run toward the rising clouds of dust. I stopped. I was afraid of what I would see, but I knew, somehow I felt it, that I had to, that it was connected to me. Strangely, even though I wanted to keep running, I stood still, not moving a single step. The air became so thick I could barely move. Now I know what a dog on a leash feels like. I gave up this pointless effort. I felt a strange peace and relief. My state was interrupted by words, or rather a whisper, whose source was in my head: "Protect us, do not betray us..."

I turned and saw him. He stood there, watching me without much interest, a smile twisting his face.

"So?"

"What, 'So'?" I replied, confused. That was all I could manage. All my thoughts scattered. I was left alone, and so was he. "How are we feeling after such a magnificent pyrotechnic display?" He

said it as if he knew perfectly well that I didn't understand. Because he did. I couldn't react. Suddenly, his tone changed. He spoke as if he were a fan who had met his idol.

"I'm impressed, words fail me, you're just..." he began to stutter. "Wonderful, that's an understatement."

I felt something inside me scream. "Who is this, what's going on, why are you acting?" No answer.

"I just don't understand one thing," he returned to his original tone. "Why did you come back?" My

vision went black. I don't know if I fainted, I don't know if I fell. I don't remember. Maybe I died...

" III

...the bus doors opening woke me up. I ran out, still not fully aware of what I was doing or where I was. The bus pulled away. I started looking around. Yes, the place was familiar; I'd dozed off on the bus and had a dream, I got scared, but everything's fine now. I headed toward the tram stop. I looked around for anything approaching and quickly crossed the street in the wrong place. Good thing there weren't any cops nearby; they'd probably have jumped me right away. I don't know why I thought that; I pass this way every day, everyone does... I suddenly stopped. I felt my legs give out. God, the same shit again. I must have woken up, or maybe not... Why didn't I notice something was wrong before? The bus is usually packed at this time. Maybe it was a holiday, and I'd accidentally gotten up early, made myself breakfast, and left for work. That naive explanation wasn't enough. I don't remember it. The last thing I remember is an explosion.

I was standing at the bus stop, looking around nervously, waiting for something to happen. Maybe an explosion, maybe some other madness. I had a feeling I'd see him again any moment. He'd emerge from behind a tree with a smile and... No, that wasn't his style—the ground would open, and he'd leap from the abyss. I involuntarily looked down at my feet; something was sticking out from under my shoe. I looked closer, and it was a photograph. I bent down and picked it up. I knew that picture, I remembered the place where it was taken, I remembered the woman sitting next to me.

IV

There were stars... words, feelings, sick monsters of reality are born. One dies, the other remains, lives, remembers, and says:

"The only person I loved was my grandfather."

"I love my grandfather too.

" "But I'm serious. Have you ever wondered what true love is?"

I never did. Now, standing alone with the photograph in my hand, I feel helpless.

V

I heard the tram doors open. I entered, looked around—it was empty, and took a seat at the back. The moment the doors closed, I lost my confidence and sense of security. The tram started moving, and I began to feel afraid. I was thinking so intensely about fear that I didn't even notice when it stopped. The doors opened, and the vehicle, so hated by me, began to fill with people. "Well, finally a bit of normality," I thought. I heard conversations, laughter, fascination, regrets. People were strangely excited. I felt sick again. Why was everyone standing and no one sitting down...

VI

...I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw an old man. He had a very pleasant expression on his face. He reminded me of my grandfather. He was smiling at me:

"Because, sir, we're about to get off, and you're going on."

I was speechless. Who was this guy, and how did he know what was going to happen? Maybe he mistook me for someone else. The tram stopped, and people began to pour out, literally. They looked like porcelain sculptures crashing against the pavement without making a sound. Silence again. The doors closed. He stood at the other end of the carriage, watching me just like last time. I looked away—"I won't give the bastard a chance," I thought. I stood up, trying to approach him, but at that moment the tram stopped. This was the stop where I usually got off, so I did so now. But why? I was going to work. Unless... Yes, that was my destiny... Maybe I'll find meaning here...

VII

...strange, but across the tram tracks stands a bench, like a park bench. I often sat on one with the woman next to me in the photo.

It was like a life story.

Once upon a time, I remember,

I was in Heaven,

if Heaven is the sweetest of feelings,

no matter what you do,

what you say,

what the scenery,

the weather, or the time.

I was there.

I don't remember if it lasted seconds or centuries.

I was there.

A revelation came to me when I least expected it.

I was speechless, unable to express it.

I couldn't hold on to the moment.

So the moment vanished, passed,

and I stood there with a stupid expression on my face

, wanting to know what had happened.

Not only the expression, but the situation itself was stupid.

Now I wonder if it was conscious,

or if it happened without my involvement,

that I was turning Heaven into Hell.

I stand in front of the mirror and burst into laughter. Is this madness? Maybe a tram will come and take me to the woman sitting next to me in the photo...

VIII

Today I visited a country that had never existed for me before. My advisors guarded it from my sight. I trusted them. Even though I felt differently, I didn't protest. I was weak. I will return to a country that smells of warmth. As I drew in the air, I deceived myself into thinking this air was from the country I love. Today I visited it. This air, this country, is extraordinary.

I've been living in a new place for some time now. I no longer need advisors. I no longer hear the whispers "protect us" and "don't betray us."

And my advisors? They are my cheaters.