I remember the day I met the Second. It was late November. The Master sat in a swivel chair, staring at his slightly reddened reflection (there was a whiskey with ice on the table) in the window. Flakes of the first snow of the winter were falling on it, melting, and streaming down the windowsill, ending their journey on the ground, which was still a garden in September. The day was gray, characteristically overcast for this time of year. Compared to this grayness, the office and the Master himself seemed happier than they actually were. The room was lit only by a small lamp on the desk. When I entered, I noticed someone sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. The Master waved for me to sit down, then turned around in his chair. His expression was somber. Never before had there been such sadness in his eyes, beneath his bushy eyebrows.
"Hello," it sounded dry. "This is the Second." He pointed to the mysterious figure who rose from the chair. We shook hands. "I'll give you a few days to get to know each other better, and when you do, a task awaits you, a task of the utmost importance. "
The Master's words only fueled my curiosity. After months of training, practice, and copying manuscripts, finally, a real task.
"What is it, Master?" I asked, perhaps too intrusively, but I couldn't resist.
"You'll find out in due time." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and then continued. "Oh well. Sit down."
We sat, our eyes glued to the Master's face. He pulled a pipe from the pocket of his lucky sweater, which he always wore when he needed to gather his thoughts.
"Do you remember the Doctor's Depraved Boots?" he turned to me.
"Of course, Master," I nodded.
"They're missing," he announced.
I was speechless; it was his greatest treasure, given to him by his mentor, Doctor Tom the Hunter. Supposedly the most eminent sage in the world, who died under mysterious circumstances while stunting sheep grazing on the slopes of Giewont.
I was aware of the gravity of the situation.
"How could this happen?" I didn't know what to say in such a situation.
He frowned terribly.
"I have no idea." He was completely unimpressed. "But they must be found!"
Completely dejected, Drugi and I left the office. A week of preparations for the mission lay ahead.
During that time, we had gotten to know each other a bit. Drugi had never been away from home before. In the first weeks of his stay, he was remarkably unwise. He ate breakfast in the evening because he had no time in the morning. He ate dinner at lunchtime, and lunch was rare.
He was as thin as a horse. He had two rows of badly brushed teeth, two red lips, sparkling eyes, a pair of protruding ears (usually slightly red), hair—cut short—and a host of other commonplace features that, in his case, made him unique.
This may have been the reason the Master chose him. Although he never revealed his reasons,
everyone mocked him, even me at first. But over time, he won me over. He was a simple yet sensible man. One evening, at teatime, he sat down next to me while I was reading Barth. He looked astonished and told me to throw the book away. Under normal circumstances, his words would have interested me no more than a Christmas speech by the president of a cooperative. But there was something in his eyes and the inhuman gestures he made that caught my attention. After that meeting, I wanted to throw away Calvino, Dehnel, and Staff as well. Unfortunately, I lacked the courage and wisdom. Truly, simple people understand many things that intellectuals, writers, and poets do not.
Deep down, he probably despised me the way I despised bottle cap collectors. From his perspective, it was unthinkable to sit all day with a piece of paper without offering it a single word.
After a week of introductions, the Master sent us out into the field. The first target of investigation was Master Fun Shui's tavern in Chinatown. Fun Shui was a Master of the highest degree (like ours), but even in his youth, he had fallen to the shadowy side of Truth. He was involved in the illegal trade of vitamin C, the (large-scale) smuggling of Chinese soup powders, fiction piracy, and many other dubious activities. Legend had it that he had found the manuscript in Zaragoza and smuggled it to Levante, nearly causing the dissolution of the Council of Sages. But those were long ago times, remembered as if through a haze of opium smoke.
The Second and I had to focus on current affairs.
With unfeigned elegance, we knocked on Fun's door. He, as if he'd reached it silently, opened the door immediately.
"How can I help you?" he asked.
"Good evening, Master Fun," said the Second, "we've come from our Master on a very important matter."
"And just for that reason you interrupt my levitation?! He wasn't in the best of moods. "Do you know how rare it is for a night like tonight to be filled with words like salt?!
"We're sorry..." I tried to smooth things over.
"I'll tell you, it's very rare!" He glared at us. "Since you've interrupted me, come in. What happened?"
Here the Second intervened again.
"This matter is of the utmost importance." He took a deep breath. "It concerns the Doctor's Depraved Shoes."
Fun's figure glowed with a thousand fluorescent lights. It was no secret that he, too, had a hankering for the Doctor's shoes. That's why he was first on our list of suspects.
"Indeed," he stated rhetorically, "this is no joke. Come on in." He invited us inside.
The interior was somber. Filled with the light of a candle nearing the end of its life and the flutter of moth wings, it seemed incredibly small and yet infinitely vast, like Egyptian tombs.
Fun's office bore a striking resemblance to the Master's, with the difference that his resembled Dr. Jekyll's workshop more than a typical sage's. The walls were decorated with trophies of exotic animals: a nailed-on blue Norwegian parrot and a peacock with an umbrella-shaped tail. However, in pride of place rested the famous Colombian llama, which Fun had hunted in the remote central tropical jungle.
This story had become woven with thick moss of legend. From what I heard,
Master Fun hid in the undergrowth for weeks, then suddenly jumped a llama as it happened to be riding by on its bicycle. He then dealt with it single-handedly with a handmade pocketknife. Considering how enraged and dangerous llamas can be when attacked unexpectedly (they fly into a blind rage), Fun displayed admirable courage and a touch of madness.
But back to the investigation.
Fun was very calm. I addressed him politely yet firmly:
"Can we"—I gestured to Second, who was hovering next to me—"search the office?"
"Of course," he smiled. "Just don't make a mess," he added, and then left.
Second and I got to work. We didn't have much time. It was obvious Fun had something to hide. We had to find out what it was and if it was the target of our search.
I felt like that friend of the Master's, the English detective he'd told me so many times. I was so excited I forgot his name. Holmes, I think. The Master had helped him with many mysteries in his time.
Meanwhile, the other was browsing through the books on the shelves. Most of them were about black magic, multi-level spells, and other dark subjects. Fun told me not to make a mess.
"Leave them," I told him. "Help me look for clues."
As it turned out, the young man was lucky. One of the books was a fake. When the Second One pushed it, it set some mechanism in motion. The gears groaned, and the bookshelf swung open like an old door. Behind it was a small room. The interior was shrouded in semi-darkness. Numerous cobwebs adorned the wall, creating a rather dingy wallpaper. Against the wall were stacks of manuscripts and trophies, hardly worthy of the main office. At the back of the room stood a small table, and next to it a chest that could aid our investigation. The Second One, for some reason, was fascinated by literature. He was leafing through the manuscripts. I nudged him on the shoulder.
"Look," I whispered, pointing to the chest. "Find something to break the lock with."
He immediately began searching. After shuffling through a few scrolls, he found an old samurai sword.
"It probably lost its master long ago, but it might be enough for this venerable padlock," I said. "Try it."
He approached the chest. He swung the handle, and a moment later, only red dust remained from the padlock. We lifted the lid, stirring up clouds of forgotten dust.
"Eureka!" I shouted.
Inside was a box with our Master's coat of arms emblazoned on it: a bamboo staff on a triangular shield. Examining it more closely, we were certain it was the Master's box, and within it were the Doctor's Depraved Shoes. We went back into the study. The second man was admiring the box's decorations with his fingertips when we suddenly heard footsteps. Without hesitation, I opened the small window. The second man, with the box under his arm, jumped out first. I followed him. We ran through the narrow streets of Chinatown without a backward glance. Finally, utterly exhausted, we reached the Master's house. Without knocking, we opened the door and, ignoring the secretary, headed straight for his office. I stopped in front of the door, grabbing the second man by the shirt. Losing speed so suddenly, I almost killed myself. He looked at me with the look of a mad bull. I took the box from him, which he had meanwhile managed to cover with his jacket. I have to admit, he was cunning.
"Easy," I said. "Remember, you always, always, always have to knock on the Master first." I shook my finger at him, and then we knocked on the door almost simultaneously.
"Come in," we heard.
Pushing past each other on the threshold, we burst inside. The Master looked at us like we were idiots.
"So? Did you find it?" he asked.
I pulled the box out from under my jacket.
"Yes, Master. We have it," I said. I handed it to him, and he smiled broadly and radiantly, as if he'd just played a distasteful trick on a friend. He opened the door a crack and said,
"Please come in," he said to someone who was clearly in the hallway. When they stood in the doorway, I thought I was going to faint. The other one looked at me in horror.
The figure at the door was Fun Shui.
"But how? Why?" I stammered. "But he stole the Doctor's shoes!"
The Master and Fun burst out laughing.
"What's the matter, Master?" the question echoed in my head.
"I'll explain," he replied, cackling, and slapped Fun on the back.
They both sat down. The Master gave Fun a box. He pulled the Doctor's Depraved Shoes from his bag and placed them inside.
"Well," the Master continued. "You were tested and you passed.
" "But what test is it?!" I asked, almost screaming. I looked at the Second, thinking he might want to add something of his own, but clearly I spoke for both of us.
"I want to explain this to you," he said in a composed tone. "About a month ago, Fun and I made a deal." The Master opened a drawer and pulled out a beautifully bound cluster. "We made a deal. In exchange for the Doctor's Depraved Shoes, Fun agreed to give me his collection of bound Patagonian mosquito wings. "They can fetch as little as 0.6 pence on the black market," he said proudly. "They can fetch as little as 0.6 pence on the black market." He was incredibly excited.
I couldn't accept it.
"But the Doctor's shoes are your greatest treasure!" Everything in me trembled with anger.
"Yes, but I'm already bored with them. Besides, I've always had a craving for that collection.
" "So what's all this fuss about, our investigation?" I wanted to say it with genuine emotion, but I was so furious I gave up.
"A test to check you," he said, looking into our eyes, "and also because when I sent Fun the Doctor's shoes, I forgot about the box and wanted to clean it before he came to collect them. Unfortunately, he beat you to it. But nothing happened.
" Fun nodded.
I felt terrible. The other buried his face in his hands, fighting back tears. The Master said goodbye to Fun, and the secretary escorted him to the exit.
The Master approached us. He placed his hands on our shoulders.
"Dear students, don't worry so much," he tried to console us, "life is full of surprises. It's not always what we imagined. Life," he looked intently at the ceiling, "is like graffiti spilling from the wall, like a compromise we agree to just... just in case.
I am very happy to be studying with the Master. I know I have been very fortunate and honored, but at times like these, I would rather be a dentist."
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