Saidvakkas is about twenty-five years old, of medium height, with large cow eyes, a hunched nose, and black eyebrows and hair like oil. He works as an electrician in the local power grid and is madly in love with his profession. He's over there every day - then he fixes it by climbing high poles on his electrician's claws. He works in an orange protective helmet, leaning slightly away, holding the chain around the post in a stretch, and humming a cheerful song to himself. Over the post where Saidvakkas works, huge clouds float like giant airships, and nearby on the spring slender poplars, chickadee sing, singing a trill, like: -Chicka- dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! The best and most interesting thing for Saidvakkas is that he can see everything from a height, as in the palm of his hand, houses, courtyards, trees, streets of an urban-type settlement, distant country roads, pathways, meadows and cows, cotton fields and behind the fields high mountain slopes and snow peaks. Usually people hardly pay attention to it. But when the electric wires are cut off in a winter snowstorm or a Blizzard and the lights are turned off, Saidvakkas instantly becomes the most important, dear and close to the heart of the towns people, as an irreplaceable eternal President of the country, as a heroic person. Oh, how happy the residents of the urban-type settlement will be when Saidvakkas fixes and fixes the problem! Old and young, even children at the top of their voices, will shout in chorus: - Hurraaay!. Hearing this for the first time, a person may even think, that angry people finally rose up against a vile tyrant and a bloody dictator to make a revolution. After the light turns on, everyone will immediately forget about Saidvakkas, and he in turn, treating this with understanding, not offended by them. Often, the electricity is cut off, the lights are turned off and the urban-type settlement is plunged into pitch darkness. Especially in winter, when old electric kiosks explode, people live without electricity for weeks, sometimes even months, drowning their shacks and huts with dung in an antediluvian way, eating and reading in the light of kerosene lamps, in frosty silence. On days like this, when children are doing their homework by candlelight, the angry people will sing a chorus of curses at the electricians and all civil servants who are thus oppressing their own people who voted for them in the election, trusting them with their fate, when they promised that there would be no problems with electricity and gas if the people voted for them.
Such thoughts Sadvakkas worked on the pole, and then rang his mobile phone.
Saidvakkas pulled out his cell phone, turned it on.
-Hello! Go ahead speak, I hear you! - said Saidvakkas .
Then the man began to speak in a rustling voice:- Hello! Is this the electrician Sadvakkas?! Well Hello there, man. In short I know you and you don't know me. So, listen to me carefully and do not interrupt, do not ask who I am, where I come from, if of course you value your life!.. In short, your life is hanging by a thread over a bottomless abyss and you have very little time.They want to arrest you today for talking too much in a cafe, criticizing the authorities and police of our irreplaceable, highly respected President, calling him a dictator. In short, you were put on an international wanted list. So run, man, and don't look back. That's it, I can't talk anymore.This is dangerous for me. The situation is extremely serious. After our conversation, you will smash your mobile phone to smithereens and try not to talk to anyone on the phone. With respect, your secret friend - said the unknown.
- What are you saying, I was just joking then, so that the company would have fun and not talk about some of our officials in the highest echelon of power who steal people's money and send it through offshore to foreign banks in the form of gold and diamonds, in order to improve the gas supply in the country and update the outdated power transmission system.
I did not say a word about the authorities that sell natural gas, oil and other minerals almost for free to other countries. And our poor people are drowning their huts, shacks and concrete apartments the antediluvian way in the harsh winter.That is, coal, wood or dung. Especially in winter, in the absence of electricity and gas, the population of our country suffers from the cold. Especially children. They do their homework at the light of a kerosene lamp in cold a house in the siege of Leningrad in the forties of the 20th century. When for the money stolen by some state officials of our independent country, you can easily build powerful ultra-modern power plants, hundreds of giant plants and factories, where our patrons are suffering from total unemployment even though they could work. They wouldn't travel the world looking for work and becoming slaves. If they had a normal job at home, our young fellow citizens would not have turned into marauders, in the hot spots of the planet, where they blow up and destroy beautiful cities, turning them into ruins, killing each other and innocent people, especially the homeless children....
-Hello! Hello, can you hear me?! - said Saidvakkas . But he heard short beeps from the phone , similar to the beeps of the ventilator of the lungs of a patient, who died. That is, the connection was broken.
Saidvakkas frightend, looked around and quickly went downstairs and went to the side of the block where he lives with his mother. On the way, all the people began to look for undercover policemen in civilian clothing. Before he went to his apartment, he again looked around and going inside, closed the door of his apartment. Seeing his pale face and anxious eyes, his mother became concerned.
-What's wrong, son? - she asked.
- It's okay.Only, you know... there is such a thing... well, how do you explain it? More shortly... he said barely hearing the thud of boots outside the door, the fear stopped. Then, approaching the door on tiptoe, he looked through the peephole and saw the people standing there. Saidvakkas immediately recognized one of them . It was the local policeman Lieutenant Carbabaev, who began to knock at the door.
-Who's there? Open the door - said Saidvakkas's mom.
Saidvakkas putting his index finger on his mouth and said in a whisper: - Shh, Mom, there is the Lieutenant Carbabaev with his squad. They want to arrest me. Don't worry, mom, it's gonna be okay. I'm going out the window right now and tell them you didn't see me. Take care of yourself, mom. I love you - said Saidvakkas, hugging his mom and saying goodbye to her. From these words Saidvakkas's mother almost fainted.
Saidvakkas opening the window, jumped on the booming tin of the roof of a nearby house and ran as a stuntman who performs dangerous and difficult stunts, replacing the actor on the set. After him, said the local policeman Lieutenant Carbabaev, people engaged in catching stray dogs. Downstairs they gathered the people and began to observe what is happening, they sheilded their eyes from the Sun rays . They thought that in their hometown was a shoot action-Packed exciting feature film. Saidvakkas recklessly ran across the tin roofs. He ran and thought that in this world he ran everything as a hampster in a cage which is turning a wheel. People run because they are chased by the merciless grim Reaper. And people twist their wheels, big and small, gold, iron, wood and clay, quietly turning gray and aging at the same time. Who's got the legs for untold wealth. Even those who have paralyzed legs, too, running for their pension, that move with the help of crutches, who is in a wheelchair with the wheels of a bike. And the Earth, Is spinning like a mysterious wheel of the universe so great that no one can stop it. And the blue sky was too similar to an hourglass, where seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, and centuries are flowing from above like the Sands of the torn bag like heaven in the hourglass of eternity... Such thoughts Saidvakkas ran on, leaping from roof to roof, like a flying squirrel in the forest as suspense in a jungle.
- Saidvakkas ! Wait! Stop! Otherwise I will be forced to open fire with my service weapon! - shouted the Lieutenant Carbabaev.
Saidvakkas did not obey him. On the contrary he started to run even faster. He jumped from roof to roof like a monkey in the jungle, like a flying squirrel from tree to tree and ran recklessly. Lieutenant Carbabaev and the hunters of street dogs ran with nets in their hand, deftly leaping from rooftop to rooftop, never losing sight of Carbabaev. At the bottom of all this with admiration he watched the crowd of onlookers, as tourists at the Canadian Niagara falls . Then disaster struck and Saidvakkas fell into a old deep ventilation shaft . As he fell crashing down, he heard shouting in the dark. Someone coughed and sneezed in the soot and dust. On the roof all the people still stomping their boots .
-Oh, my! He's gone! As if the landing failed! Oh Satan!, where has he gone?! I really missed the bastard. - said the Lieutenant Carbabaev and said: Well, we'll do a stakeout on his apartment and he won't escape us! After these words, stamping the echoing roof detachment Lieutenant Carbabaev began to leave. When they left, in a dark ventilation shaft, someone lit a match and Saidvakkas saw a man of about thirty-five or forty. He lit a candle. Saidvakkas immediately asked for forgiveness from the owner for jumping into the housing.
- Dont worry about it, its okay- said man and continued.
- I am a lone writer and poet my name is Dahabebaho - he explained.
- I'm glad to meet you Mr. poet Dahobebaho. Call me Saidvakkas. I have a special secondary education. Before that, I worked as a electrician.
- Well, then we're almost colleagues. As you electricians are covering people's houses and roads and we poets illuminated the human soul like a weary street lights in the quiet dawn - said the poet Dahobebaho . Then he read his new poem.
Listening to the verses of Dahobebaho, Saidvakkas took a deep breath.
- Oh, such a great poet lives in an unlit ventilation shaft! What an injustice, my Lord! How do you even live in a hole like this covered in cobwebs? Such poets as you have to live in mansions, where the moon peaks through the window . Where, outside the window are rings of white-trunked poplars in the wind, and the fall of the maples drop their leaves in silence as tears. In the winter twilight poets have to sit silently next to a large window, especially turning off the lights and gaze for hours on snowy snowstorm, listening to the howling of wolves - he said.
-No, Mr. Saidvakkas , on the contrary I am glad that I live in the ventilation shaft. It's much better than living in luxurious mansions. Here reigns peace and quiet. No one's bothering me here. I'm not running, I'm not in a hurry, I'm not late. Im doing what I like - said the great poet Dahobebaho.
Saidvakkas paused for a moment, looking at the hands of the poet covered with tattoos. Then asked:
- I apologize, Mr. poet, it is clear that you have been in prison for many years. What for?
-No, Mr. Saidvakkas , I wasn't in prison -said the poet Dahobebaho.
- Then why are your hands covered with tattoos? - said Saidvakkas .
-Aaa - said Dahobebaho. Then went on to explain:
-I have not only my hands, almost all my body is covered with tattoos, where the text of my poems is written in small print, which can be read only with a magnifying glass. I wrote them on my body with ink and a needle so my poems wouldn't get lost. In short, I live the manuscript of poems. That's the way I will save money to buy new shoes, but I still can not. I walk, as you can see, in these old footsteps, wrapped in my footcloths. It's like gold for the rich to me. I rarely would like to share with paper he said - then he continued,
-Mr. Saidvakkas , I'm glad you came. Although you came into my miserable home without warning, but God sent you to me as a guest, you should be able to treat the poet more than that - said Dahobebaho.
- Well, I'm ready to take treats, Mr. poet. I know you want to punch me in the face for the fact that I bothered you with my stupid visit - smiled Saidvakkas .
- No, really I dont want to punch you in the face, you truly are an expensive guest. I do have some treats for you. There's got to be a piece of dried bread around here somewhere .I didn't eat it, even when I was facing starvation. I saved it for random guests. Where is it?.. With these words, the poet Dahabebaho began frantically fumbling in his old and tattered bag, made of fox leather.
- Don't worry, Mr. poet I'm full- said Saidvakkas .
-Yeah? - said Dahobebaho, and made a sad sigh. Then he got very excited, feeling his torn jacket and pulling out the inner pocket of the pouch.
- Here, I have an excellent shag, made by me from the fallen crimson leaves of autumn maple, which sadly drops in deserted autumn parks and alleys in the misty silence. That is, I will treat you with sacred smoke -he said, hastily unleashing a ribbon from his pouch with his hands shaking with excitement.
-Mr. poet Dahobebaho, don't. I'm not Smoking or drinking.That is, I lead a healthy lifestyle. with sports - said Saidvakkas .
-Don't be afraid, Mr. Saidvakkas. The tobacco heals - explained the poet Dahobebaho , stuffing his pipe with tobacco,on the thin mouthpiece, specially made of reeds. Then, lighting his pipe, took a few puffs and handed it to Saidvakkas.
Saidvakkas picked up the pipe and also made a puff. Then the toxic smoke entered his lungs and he began coughing heavily, sticking out his tongue like a sick old sheep, gasping for breath. Dahabebaho began to laugh. He barely was able to breathe due to him constantly laughing and said: -You cough as quail, who sings in the predawn darkness of the clover field. The quail was also coughing, the quail's throat was frozen when it drank the cold dew.
- Hmmm,the tabacco that you made with fallen maple leaves which you picked up from the foggy autumn park - said Saidvakkas smiling - just recovering.
Dahabebaho asked him about why Lieutenant Carbabaev and his team following him.
Saidvakkas told in detail the reason for the prosecution to Dahabebaho. Then, lighting a pipe he stuffed it with healing tabacco, made of fallen crimson leaves of the autumn maple, he began to speak.
-Yes, Mr Saidvakkas like you - a rarity not only in our society but on the planet.Not everyone is given the courage to tell the truth about the hard life of people, risking their own lives. I envy you in white in this regard, honestly.And I live here, hiding from the stupid crowd like an eagle nesting on a high rock. Since this property has no Windows, every day I go up to the roof through a compact folding staircase to meet the dawn and sunset, sitting on a tin roof and write new poems. At night I admire the starry sky and the shining moon in silence. I especially love to look at the dawn from the roof down, watching the movement of the crowd, hurrying to work or somewhere else.The flow of crowds moving along the sidewalk as the caravan of ants and headed toward the subway. Hurrying the people obedient to remind me of grains of sand, which the winds easily control and direct them wherever it wants...
Then suddenly someone began to shout at the top:
-Oh, crap, he is here, in the ventilation pipe. Talking to his accomplice!Hurry up, comrade Carbabaev! - he shouted.
And again there came the sound of tarpaulin boots echoing on the tin roof. Saidvakkas and the poet Dahabebaho with horror, stared upward, as prisoners in the deepest dungeon of the ancient Bukhara.
They are terribly scared seeing the angry policeman Lieutenant Carbabaev, which looked at the ventilation shaft, as in the well with a service weapon in hand.
-Come on, hands up, bastards! No one can escape from us! Now Saidvakkas, and your accomplice too!.. Hey, you bring the rope quickly. Let them rise voluntarily, unless of course they still want to live in this world! -he shouted, raising his cap slightly with the barrel of a silenced pistol.
Hearing this Carbabaev's heart sank. He and the poet Dahabebaho stood with their hands raised as a warrior captured in war.
-Wait, Lieutenant Carbabaev! I've got tranquilizer Darts! He just ran to the dog hunter, who is engaged in catching of stray dogs, and pulling a brass tube from his pocket began to throw his Darts at Saidvakkas and his friend.But he couldn't get in.Then the Lieutenant Carbabaev lost patience and abruptly pushed him away.
-Oh, you poor dog hunter! Who shoots like that! Move, stupid! I'll do without your poor services, without the rope! I've got a smoke bomb that'll make them go upstairs! - he said, lighting a smoke bomb, and threw it into the windpipe, which resembled an old dried-up well.
At this time, the Lieutenant Carbabaev pushed the dog hunter who rolled on the tin roof and barely stopped at the edge.
-Don't be afraid, Mr. Saidvakkas , without panic. There is a back door in the air duct - the poet Dahobebaho said in a whisper coughing the smoke. After that, pulling out the old mattress, they opened the doorway and dived there.
Saidvakkas with the poet Dahabebaho out of the doorway and ran, not looking back on the sidewalk, knocking passers-by, in order to get away. Lieutenant Carbabaev and his partner the dog hunter. They were still above the ventilation pipe, hoping to catch the two fugitives, that is from the pit of the ventilation pipe, filled with a caustic smoke. And runaways-adherents ran on the sidewalk with all their might, overtaking each other as participants of the Olympic games on a treadmill. When they started to cross the street, as if changing direction on the run, Saidvakkas almost got hit by a truck.The driver of the truck, sharply twisted the steering wheel to the right and in a panic pressed the brakes. As a result the truck sharply left on a roadside and with a roar crashed into a column. From a powerful blow a wooden pole broke like a mast of an ancient pirate ship in the stormy sea.There were heart-rending cries of women, like whistling, swearing and screaming, like an alarm. Fortunately, there were no casualties. The friends fled until, they began to suffocate. Saidvakkas suddenly got a unique idea and he forced one man's bike with biker handlebars.
-Mr. poet Dahabebaho! Jump quickly to the back of the 2 wheeled wagon of Satan! - he shouted.
The poet Dahabebaho jumped on the back of a stolen bike .He deftly sat on Satan's wagon, go prompt the Indians on the horse and together they raced down the sidewalk, screaming: -everyone this satans's wagon does not have working brakes!
Passers-by leaned against the walls of houses and showcases of restaurants and cafes, freeing them from the sidewalk.There was trouble. That is Carbabaev's pant leg caught in the chain and the fugitives, losing balance fell to the pavement. To get rid of the two-wheeled trap, from satan's wagon, Saidvakkas had to say goodbye to the Trouser leg of his trousers. After that, they started running on the crowded sidewalk again.
There were screams.:
-Lieutenant Carbabaev! Here they are! Shoot! We'll miss them again! - the driver of a pickup truck shouted, densely approaching the populous sidewalk.
- No, it's crowded here! I'm going to miss and shoot innocent passers-by! You are a dog hunter, go ahead and shoot poisonous darts for fugitives from this stupid brass tube! -shouted the Lieutenant Carbabaev.
-Well, comrade Carbabaev! - said the dog hunter, and he grabbed the brass tube from his pocket, began to shoot Darts, taking aim at the neck of the fugitives. But he missed and immediately a couple innocent citizens fell, clutching their neck.
- Fool! Be careful, stinky dog hunter! - Lieutenant Carbabaev reproached the hunter of stray dogs , slightly raising the visor of his cap with the barrel of a service weapon.By this time the fugitives sharply changing their directions, dived into a narrow alley, where the car would not fit.
After this detachment of Lieutenant Carbabaev began to pursue the fugitives on foot. The persecuted ran towards the railway station. Saidvakkas started howled like a werewolf under the full moon from the unbearable pain, he started limping, clutching his leg. It turns out he stepped on a rusty nail that pierced through his leg.He could no longer walk, and fell to the ground like a bag of soil.
The great poet Dahabebaho had to go back to help his faithful friend in the difficult moments.
- What's wrong? - he asked, running and breathing heavily.
- Aaaahh!..A nail pierced through my leg! - said Saidvakkas .
Let me help you with that. It's dangerous for both of us to stay here. After the squad Lieutenant Carbabaev, you understand? - said the great poet Dahabebaho, trying to help lift up his fugitive friend.
- No, don't help me. I like something better of myself... You run, I got your back.While I'll hold them off, you will have time to escape, blending into the crowd in the station of the flea market. I'm sure. Goodbye, my friend Dahabebaho! You have no right not to be saved, run for God's sake, for the sake of our long-suffering literature, for the sake of our oppressed people! said Saidvakkas , groaning from the unbearable pain.
After that Dahabebaho there was nothing for it but to run on.
-Goodbye, Mr. Saidvakkas ! Thank you for helping me, staying in trouble and sacrificing yourself for our friendship! - cried the poet Dahabebaho. His eyes glistened with tears. Saying goodbye to his friend he ran on.When he disappeared from sight, there was a detachment of Lieutenant Carbabaev and caught the fugitive electrician. Lieutenant Carbabaev sitting on the back of Saidvakkas, put lowcost handcuffs on his hands.