The Mist and the Lightning. Part VI
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“It will be an unbelievably tasty barbecue! You will swallow your tongue! I ordered to add to the pickle…”
“To the marinade, moron!”
“Can you imagine how fucking great it will turn out! Real jam!”
Lis sat in an armchair. Pictures of naked girls were hung on the walls in Tol’s room (on one of the pictures, the girls washed themselves in a bathhouse – and very naturalistically). Over the table hung a cheap
portrait of Jazmina, a singer popular in the “Lower”, bought at the fair. And above the fireplace, there were framed sheets with clever sayings:
“In the bowels of black, tri-color is born – black, white and red!” “Only black is true color, and the rest origin from it!”
Further, the logical conclusion followed that the “blacks” were the true progenitors of all mankind. Probably such “true blacks” as Arel. At first there were only them. And only then, from them, “whites” appeared, or rather, according to the logic of the writer, “whites” are the same “blacks”, only in a slightly different guise. They are “blacks” who have moved to the upper sublevel. And only then… only then the “reds" were born the very last.
They told him shit like that at a military school. Lis remembered that. They were raising the patriotic spirit of future warriors. “Blacks” are a chosen race,
“whites” are so-so, but “reds” is just a burp. Gods! What is he doing here?! Why is sitting here, barked by a fucking dog, and doesn’t leave? Lis knew why.
Tol set a tall crystal glass in front of him and poured wine. Lis really wanted to take him by the hair, because Tol’s tail, despite shaved temples, was two Lis’ arms and waist length, and to muzzle him on the tabletop.
Asa languidly approached the table to clink glasses with them too. Lis wanted to hit her no less.
They drank. Everything at once. Neither Tol nor Asa knew how to drink in sips, savoring the taste, and Lis didn’t want to. He was now not in time to enjoy the bouquet. He wanted to get drunk and fall asleep until the evening. Until these fucking lamb barbecues. He was sure that Nikto would be there all the time with Arel, and Lis would not have a chance. And this is good.
Tol immediately poured again. The wine was not sweet. Tol knew what kind of wine to pour to his friend, and Lis was at least a little pleased.
He nodded toward the puppy: “What’s this?”
“My dog!” answered Asa proudly.
Yes, she obviously already pretty well learned to chatter in “black”
language.
“Can you make it shut up?” “Bushuy! Bushuy, lie down!”
“Gods! Why Tol? Why did he meet Tol this morning!”
Bushuy lay in a basket and began to tear something violently there.
“And I told him: “Fuck, Arel! There is such weather, you have to get out of the hole in the end! And he told me: “Where are you going to take the meat? Are you going to hunt for meat?” And I already got it in “Backara”…”
Lis read the following saying:
“Believe in God's purpose! God hurts us to save! ” Something new.
“Tol?”
“I say… it will not rain. And he… Yes?” “What's this?”
“Where?” Tol looked at the wall as if he had seen it for the first time in his life:
“Ah, that! This is a great thing! Lila gave it to me! And yet…” Tol with his inherent impulsiveness began to run around the room, scattering things.
“Asa! Where are the “Words of God”!”
Esa finished the wine, put the glass on the table and wiped her lips with a sleeve.
Tol cried out, trying to drown out the rumble from the collapsed arms rack:
“And Lila! Listen up. I wanted to tell you about Lila! We tumbled with her this way…” Tol froze. “It was a threesome.”
He started running again:
“Me, Asa and her.” She and Asa were doing such things!” He froze again, looking in the corner with a basket.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Jumping to the puppy, Tol pulled from his mouth a chewed parchment.
“Look!”
He joyfully thrust the “Word of God”, which was in the dog’s saliva, under Lis’ nose.
“And I will give you a new heart. And I will give you a new spirit. And I
will take from the flesh your heart of stone and give you the heart…”
Lis could not read what heart it was promised to give them, the ending was irretrievably lost in the stomach of the dog.
Tol was looking at Lis with enthusiasm:
“She’ll come to barbecue today. She has promised! Do you want to arrange the foursome, to look what the girls will be doing?”
“Do I look like an idiot? Why does he think that I can be offered this?”
“Drink!” Asa irritably shoved Tol into the stomach with a glass poured to the brim. She was unhappy with the prolonged gap between the first and second, or the third drink.
“At least one sensible thought!” Lis drank in one gulp. He was still not getting drunk. He still wanted to leave.
“Do you want Asa?” Suddenly suggested Tol, casting the dictum away from himself. He was absolutely sincere in his impulse of hospitality.