Fool

"Briss is a fool."

"Why a fool?" the slim, broad-shouldered man asked hesitantly.

"Because whatever he does, he ruins everything." His voice was neutral, yet determined.

"But why a fool? After all... he works like us... he's not doing too badly."

"Jack, are you blind? He doesn't even know his own name, he goes around with these stupid stories, scribbling things, or reading books. He has no clue about life, he can't even drink properly. I don't know what Kate sees in him—that girls like that have to take on such fools. She deserves someone better, a real man.

" "Well, yes... but... anyway, he'll probably want to leave anyway," Jack said conciliatorily.

"Leave?

" "Yes—leave," he explained.

"Guys, have you heard? That stupid Briss wants to leave... that ridiculous boor, and where will he go?" He probably can't even please his Kate," boomed a mocking voice.

These words brought a roar of laughter from the group of men occupying a table under a large red maple tree.

"Josh, maybe you'll miss him? Who's going to wash your stiff socks?" the man in plaid flannel jokingly asked, much to the amusement of his companions.

"Shut up, idiot, did I ask your opinion?" Josh thundered. "

I was just kidding, huh… Josh," he defended himself.

"Then don't joke next time…

" "Relax, Josh, it's a joke, just a joke," came a conciliatory voice.

"It's because of that idiot Briss, he's getting on my nerves, sticking his hands where he's not needed."

The last words caused general consternation. The men sitting at the table were lost in some extremely interesting conversation. The two, in an unexplained but very urgent need, went to the premises. No one wanted to engage in a public exchange. Josh leaned against the wooden fence—which was constructed of posts and double spans—and cheekily placed his foot on the lower beam. A look of satisfaction spread across his face, and he continued calmly:

"Guys, I might have gotten a little carried away, but it's obvious at first glance that Briss has no idea how hard logging is. The saw flies in his hands; it won't be long before that idiot…" he hesitated, "that Briss brings some misfortune upon us."

"Josh…" Jack continued, but the icy glare from his superior cooled his enthusiasm. "No, nothing, I was just thinking, but it doesn't really matter…"

The sky was slowly beginning to gray, the horizon narrowing with each passing second, trees, flowers, and meadows sinking into a dark, all-consuming goo. The last rays of the sun greedily adorned the huge maple tree standing near the inn.

Saturday was the only day when you could legally and without consequences drown your sorrows and the week's hardships in a bottle of average whiskey. In Greenwood, where most people made their living by cutting down trees, things were not bad. Men worked a solid ten, sometimes twelve, hours, but their homes were just beyond the forest, so the journey took no more than fifteen minutes. There was a shortage of work for women in the area, but there was no need for them to work—a lumberjack earned enough to support his family. This had its advantages—a wife could devote herself to household chores, raise the children, and ensure her husband always had a hot meal ready.

In Greenwood, almost all the houses were wooden, and at least a dozen more were added each year. The settlement grew rapidly, attracting investors seeking a good deal.

The large number of visitors prompted the construction of a hotel, which offered quite good accommodations. Finding work wasn't a problem, as anyone who was qualified to be a lumberjack was given one almost immediately. While initially the salary wasn't particularly high, it rose over time as the novice learned the ropes.

The settlement was united by two places – the church – the only brick building – and the inn.

On Saturdays, work hours were slightly shorter, until three o'clock, and music filled the inn from five – the band played at Greenwood only that day, which further heated up the already heated atmosphere. Around ten o'clock, finding a free seat was next to impossible, so the benches outside – despite the chill – were overcrowded.

"Guys, why don't we go inside? It's getting cold," Josh suggested. "

Well, that would be useful – the wind's blowing in from the north, and if the rabble comes, they'll take up all the available seats," remarked one of the group occupying the bench under the maple tree.

"We need to calm our exhausted muscles, right, Jack?"

"Yes, Josh, quite alright."

"So... I'm buying a round of drinks," his words brought general cheering. Everyone practically stormed inside and besieged the counter at the bar. "

A round of drinks for my boys," Josh shouted.

"Kate, leave the cleaning for a moment and help at the bar." The shop owner's words sounded like a military command.

"Is Kate working today?" Josh asked, surprised. "

I am working, of course.

" "I'm on my way, Mr. Baker," came a soft, girlish voice. "

Serve at the counter, leave the cleaning for today..." the owner announced curtly.

Kate, a beautiful brunette with hazel eyes, appeared at the counter and, without looking at the customer, asked automatically,

"What can I get you?"

"Hello, Kate."

"Josh, I don't recognize you... Can I get you anything?" she asked.

"My boys have been working hard all week, I thought they deserved a reward... so—a round for everyone."

Kate took the bottle from the bar and slowly poured its contents into glasses placed on a metal tray. When she finished, the men gathered at the counter raised their glasses, someone shouted, "To Josh!" and, as one, downed the contents.

"Kate, are you working until the end today?" Josh asked. "

Until the end, as always," she wiped her forehead with her hand. "Until the last customer, maybe four, maybe three... but luckily, Briss will be here soon," she added with satisfaction. "

Briss," he said, lost in deep thought. "Briss hasn't been doing his best lately; in fact, he's probably not cut out for this job—he's weak. A real lumberjack is a real man, strong, well-built, and Briss..."

"He's working, and he's not doing too badly at all."

"Kate, he might be working now, but he can't handle it, he's weak, and besides, he's not from here... pour me a whiskey, Kate.

" Kate filled a glass and set it in front of Josh.

"Leave the bottle for Katy."

"Briss promised to take me to New York, we'll go there together, and I'm sure I'll find a much better job," Kate said, becoming more radiant and joyful with each word. "

What does he think he can do, he can just come to Greenwood and take any girl and lead her away like that? No, I won't let that happen," Josh thundered. "

How could you, I'm not anyone's property," she replied reproachfully. "

No, you're not," Josh poured himself a shot of whiskey, "but he has no right, who is he? Who is this pawn to you?"

"Stop it, Josh, I love him," Kate whispered.

The man looked into Kate's golden-brown eyes and was silent for a moment. He seemed to relish the oppressive silence. "

I thought you had some sense in you, but I was wrong. Run away, go away with that loser. What can he give you? Can he give you more than I can? I doubt it, I sincerely doubt it."

"He can give me a lot more than you can, Josh, he can give me warmth, but what do you know about that? For you, it was always about work, your friends, and in the end, it was me.

" "Even if you did, what was wrong with you? You wouldn't have to work, you'd be raising children like any other woman.

" "You don't understand anything," Kate added regretfully.

"He understands everything, especially that we don't need strays like Briss."

"You've had too much to drink, go home, Josh."

"You have no right to tell me what to do. You can order that idiot around, but not me." The resounding words drew the attention of the customers.

-Stop it Josh - Kate said with a trembling voice, tears flowed from her eyes, she wiped her wet face with her apron, unable to stop crying, she ran to the back room.

"Josh, you've had too much to drink, come on over to us, why are you tormenting poor Kate?" Jack said calmly. "

Shut up," he said menacingly and sat down at the table.

The company of his friends calmed Josh somewhat. There was whiskey on the table, being poured liberally. Loud laughter echoed through the place every now and then, and a heated discussion was underway about whether old Joe Mountaine had single-handedly brought down an enraged grizzly bear. It was an event that made him a great hero of Greenwood. He returned from the forest that day, his face scarred by four claws, and he didn't say a word to anyone; as it turned out, he was speechless. By evening, news of his feat spread – men returning from the forest had found a fallen bear on the shore of the lake. The next morning, the entire settlement was buzzing with speculation and gossip. No one doubted that old Joe had killed the beast, but there were at least several versions of how the entire event unfolded. Some insisted that Joe had clubbed the bear to death with a tree trunk that five men couldn't handle, others that he had knocked it down with a boulder, still others that he had strangled it with his bare hands.

However, the most captivating topic of conversation among the tipsy patrons wasn't the astonishing feats and adventures, but the women. More than one strong lumberjack, with muscles of rock and shoulders of an aurochs, feeling the whiskey begin to throb in his steel veins, whimpered like a puppy separated from its mother when he remembered his beloved Ruth, Mary, or Lilly. Oh yes – when the mind wandered to the edges of consciousness and the body was permeated with heat, language became remarkably frank and exceptionally bold. Women were angels walking in the air, but there were plenty of experiences quite different, where this wondrous phenomenon transformed into a bloodthirsty praying mantis, attacking when pleasure banished all suspicion.

Whiskey can change a person, degrade them to a point where humanity becomes a mere semblance of untamed reality.

While almost everyone was listening to the stories, a tall, slender man with a pleasant face entered the tavern. He held a travel bag in his hand. He approached the counter and sat on a high stool. He looked around searchingly, briefly gazing at his reflection in the mirror. When he spotted Kate returning from the back, his lustful gaze fixed on her, unable to get enough of her sight, as if he had fallen into a hypnotic trance. The girl had no idea that someone, at that very moment, was watching her every move, her every touch, and every act of life. She lifted her head slightly, a hint of fatigue etched on her face, she was nervous. For a moment, she scanned the door, then the room, the customers sitting at the counter. Suddenly, her gaze met the newcomer's.

"Briss, you bastard," she smiled, the corners of her mouth twitching playfully on her worn face. "You were here the whole time!"

"Hello, honey. No, I haven't been here the whole time—I just got here a moment ago.

" "You know, how could you?" Kate cupped his head and kissed him. "Have you been busy? What were you doing so much?" she asked, concerned. "

I finished at three today, but I still had to finish my story and the article for the newspaper. You know, maybe they'll give me a job as a journalist, well… I haven't gotten an offer yet, but they wrote that they really like my reportage about life in provincial towns."

"Briss, that's wonderful, we could rent a house, and then maybe buy our own, you know—our own house!" she exclaimed with delight. "I can't wait to go there, New York must be wonderful.

" "It certainly offers a lot of opportunities, it's a big city, hundreds of times bigger than Greenwood.

" "I'm so happy, Briss, I'm so happy… but what are you going to do the rest of the time? I have to stay until the end."

"Kate, don't worry, I'll find a free table and maybe… read a book or write something, but first I have to look at you.

" "We saw each other yesterday," she added with tempting irony. "

For me, that's an eternity, Kate," Briss remarked and smiled back. "I won't

bother you, I'm going to sit at…" he pointed to an empty seat in the corner of the room, "over there."

He sat down at the table and pulled a book out of his bag, leafed through it for a moment, then leaned back and immersed himself in his reading. Every now and then he glanced at Kate, and she returned his glance, smiling sweetly. It was as if they were both reassuring each other that they were close and could be right next to each other at any moment and feel each other's tangible presence.

"What are you reading, Briss?" came a slightly slurred voice.

The young man looked around cautiously, as if to make sure it was him. However, no one was reading the book nearby, in fact, no one in the room was reading it. He looked up; Josh was standing where the voice had come from.

"Hello Josh."

Josh gave Briss a cold look. The young man clearly understood his intentions, because after a moment he added,

"And... it's a book by a European writer, not very well-known here, I got it from my grandfather before he died."

"You think that because I work in the forest, I don't know anything about books? Who is this writer?" he said, getting angry.

"Prus, a Polish writer, my grandfather was Polish."

"Show it to me."

"I doubt you'll understand anything.

" "I may be a little drunk, but he can still read."

Josh picked up the book and opened to a random page. What nonsense is this? It's not in English," he said, outraged. "

It's a Polish book," Briss explained.

"Those books are confusing you. You better get to work, because you're no use to anyone."

Josh threw the book against the wall.

"Don't throw that if it's not yours," he said, outraged, "you don't even know what it is!"

"What, you—you miserable loser—you're telling me what to do and threatening me on top of that!" he laughed sarcastically. "Did you guys hear?" he turned to his tablemates, "that fool Briss says not to throw the book. And what is that book? It's nothing here in Greenwood. People live by work, hard but fruitful work. You heard, you're nothing here, Briss. You can't work," he thundered. "But, but, I heard you want to leave, you can leave, just remember one thing—you have no right to this place, you have no right to women, you can't just take what you like and run away."

Briss didn't say a word, he listened, but he refused to be provoked. Josh was clearly irritated by the silence; he couldn't find a way to penetrate his youthful mind and strike at his tender ambition. Helpless, he grabbed him by the sweater around the chest and asked,

"Do you understand?"

"Let go," Briss gritted through his teeth.

Just then, Kate emerged from the back room, carrying a tray of washed glasses. Her face was joyful and dreamy, but suddenly, as if in surprise, she quickly turned her head toward Briss, as if to see if their eyes would meet. When she saw Josh holding her beloved in his embrace, she screamed in terror, a shiver running through her body. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room. The shaken girl ran to him and grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing, stop it, Josh, do you hear me—stop it!" she screamed desperately, as if sensing something terrible was about to happen.

"Get away, Kate," Briss pleaded.

"Get away," Josh said, and he pushed her away.

The girl fell from the platform where the tables were set, hitting her head on the ground.

"Kate, God, are you okay?" Briss shouted in terror. "You bastard!" His eyes blazed with rage.

He pushed Josh with all his might, who had stopped at the next table. "

You fool, you think you can push me around with impunity."

The men, who had just been amiably sipping whiskey with Josh, ran up and grabbed his hands. One approached the girl and began asking if she was okay. Kate managed to stand up unaided, complaining only of a pain in her arm. She absently touched her face; a few drops of blood seeped out. She looked in the mirror – her left cheek was bruised, and a long scratch stretched down a third of it.

"Let go, or tomorrow you'll all be thrown out. Let go!" Josh shouted, furious. -You want to risk it for this fool?

-Josh, you're drunk, calm down and sit down - Jack pleaded.

"Fool, let me go, you're all fools, and you, Briss, are dead. I'll kill you, you hear me, I'll kill you. You wanted to rule here like you belonged, a loser like you. You can't even grip an axe handle properly. You're a loser, the last miserable loser."

Briss stood against the wall, his hands held too, to prevent him from accidentally lunging at Josh and engaging in an unequal duel. He almost did—every muscle in his body was eager for a fight, his body shuddered, his fists clenched, and his face changed into a warlike expression. "

Let go!" Josh roared, like a wild animal, and broke free from his human bonds.

Freed and enraged, he began to pummel those around him. He was like a hungry grizzly, struggling, his strong arms and stony fists dancing in a wild frenzy among the terrified bodies. His friends released Briss, who, freed again, without hesitation, almost instinctively ran to Kate. He cradled her head against his chest.

"Are you okay, honey?" he asked in a trembling, concerned voice.

"Nothing, Briss, but get out of here," Kate pleaded through tears.

"I can't, it's over anyway." He looked toward the scene of the fight. "That bastard won't hurt you anymore.

" He began to gently stroke her head and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, the other cheek, and her lips. "It's over, Kate, it's over," he whispered incessantly in her ear. "

Briss," the terrified girl screamed.

The young man looked back; Josh was approaching them—he managed to break free amid the commotion. He was too far for them to catch up and too close for Briss and Kate to escape.

"You're already dead," he hissed.

He grabbed a knife from the counter and lunged at the young man who was trying to shield Kate. He tried to push the enraged Josh away, but Josh attacked with all the force he could muster. The blade pierced his flesh, and blood began to flow profusely down the steel handle. The hemorrhage intensified with each passing second, red drops hitting the wooden floor, and it seemed as if the bell of Greenwood Church, whose tolling was heard throughout the village, was setting the rhythm. Briss slumped to the ground, grabbed the hilt, and automatically yanked out the knife, the blade buried deep beneath his ribs. Kate handed it to his bloodied body, incomprehensible pain and despair cruelly transforming her beautiful face.

"God, no, please," her scream ripped through the air thick with grief.

Tears dripped freely from her burning cheeks, mixing with the crimson blood flowing from the wound. Kate pressed her cheek to Briss's face and kissed him. His face was serene, his eyes bright and clear.

"Always," he whispered.