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vovan
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Postmortem:
Two Thousand Years Later
by Dmitry Pleshkov
New Leningrad, 1969
to Svetlana,
for her courage
Foreword:
My name is Dmitry. I am 34 years of age, and work in a small morgue here, in New Leningrad, a Russian colony on the Greek peninsula. I was born in this town and have never left it in my whole entire life. The reason being partly that there are no other towns in a 300-kilometer radius. Frankly, I don’t know how we survive these long cold winters here without the help of the motherland. I suppose the hope of our souls: that we are here for a great purpose and the good of the rest of the nation - nourishes our bodies…
The reason I decided to write this little essay is because we have recently found a dead body. More precisely, a scared woman told us that she found it and we fetched it here. After all, it is our responsibility to take care of dead bodies around the town. But this is not your usual body, I think. The problem is, I cannot write directly to Moscow (yes, I am convinced it is that important). We have no means of communicating with the capital. So, we will have to wait till somebody visits us. I will probably be able to send this paper back with the next ship. It is scheduled to come and bring us food and fuel next week.
My heart is warmed with the thought that this is the first important paper I am writing in my life: I graduated from a tiny university here, and have not done any scientific work since. Well, now is my chance.
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unscratchedfoot
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Love me tender. Love me sweet.
May 2002
time: 14:23
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doopity doo
Last edited by unscratchedfoot on 07-11-2002 at 07:37
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vovan
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quote:
Originally posted by unscratchedfoot
doopity doo |
Bumpity bump
Last edited by vovan on 07-11-2002 at 20:34
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vovan
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At about 21:13, just as I was finished with my papers, and was ready to leave, I heard a loud knock on the door. I got up from my desk, as another knock sounded. When I opened the door, I saw a woman. Her face seemed to have a bluish tone to it -- from the cold temperature outside, as I thought. As soon as she saw me, she collapsed into my arms, half-senseless.
As I was moving her into the warm room, I felt a shiver down my spine, as I could not feel her heart beat, and was terrified by the idea of a woman dying right in my hands. In addition, her fur-coat was covered with snow, and, as it began to melt, the cold water soaked my shirt, and little chilling streams were running down my body. I took her coat off, put it on a hanger, and placed her into an armchair. I then left the room to make some hot tea, as there was no medicine nearby, and frankly, even if there was something, I wouldn’t know what to give her -- after all, I mostly deal with people, who do not need it any more.
As I returned into the room, the woman had come to her senses, and was now sitting, her face in her hands, shivering. I thought she was cold and hurried to give her some tea and asked her what happened. She took the cup from me without looking up or uttering a single word. As she received it, her hand touched mine, and I felt that it was very hot. She could not possibly be so cold as to shiver.
As I further enquired after the events that lead her to such a miserable state, she looked up. I think I will never forget her eyes, full of terror. I realized that her trembling was to be attributed to being frightened to the last extreme.
She could only manage to say one word, with her trembling voice: “Body.”
Last edited by vovan on 08-11-2002 at 07:19
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vovan
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I figured since the pieces are so short, I'll post 'em a little more often. So, here goes:
As the woman clamed down, I was able to receive more specific information from her.
She left the grocery store, where she works, at about 19:00. Naturally, it was already dark outside, and the streetlights did not make the lighting much better, as a snowstorm had started. There was so much snow, that she could barely see where she was going. As she was passing the coal mine, however, she noticed that the gate was flung open, and there was nobody to be seen around, although, normally at this time some trucks would still be leaving with their loads towards the electric plant. She also noticed some machines left in quite unorderly fashion, as if they were not left for the night, but rather deserted hastily.
This sight made the woman quite very nervous, as her husband works at the mine. She then headed to the booth of the night watch to enquire what happened. As she approached the booth, she saw that the light was turned on, and was quite glad to find at least somebody... Just to be disappointed again, for when she came around it, she saw that the door was swinging open. She looked inside, and saw a newspaper laying on the table, open on the second page, a steaming cup of tea, and a cigarette, alight, in the ashtray next to it.
By this time, she admits, she began to panic. As she was heading back to the road, she noticed something dark in the snow, right by the mine entrance. She approached it, and, to her horror, realized that it was a body. A dead body. She than completely lost her mind with fear and flew home to see if her husband was there.
She found the apartment dark and just like she left it in the morning. Nobody seemed to have come back. Her husband never returned.
Crying, she decided to go back to the mine, and see whom the body belonged to. But with every step closer to the mine, and with every drop of tears freezing on her cheek, she became more and more scared. So, finally, as she was passing the morgue, and saw the light in the window, she could not proceed further, and decided to report her discovery. After all, people in the morgue are supposed to take care of the dead bodies. She knocked on the door, and as I opened it, she fainted, exhausted by her emotions and the long walks.
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vovan
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Here is the next installment. Hope you, folks, like it. I really appreciate all the feedback.
Having spent an enormous amount of time, trying to calm Svetlana down (I found out her name in the process), I resolved that the matter of the dead body could not wait till the next day. So, I lifted the receiver, and dialed the number 02 (for police). However, a series of long tones was all I heard in response. I looked at the clock. 22:24. And everybody is already gone over there? Ridiculous. But then again, when was the last time a crime occurred in our town? Nobody remembers now. That’s why the police have relaxed.
At any rate, I informed Svetlana, that it would be impossible to take care of the body in the fashion prescribed by law, as this law is already seeing its tenth dream. Her anxiousness for her husband, however, made her immovable and nothing could persuade her to postpone finding out who the body belonged to. The woman was terrified by the idea of seeing it again, yet reluctant to leave it lying there, and absolutely against the idea of being uncertain whether it was her husband or not till the morning. I proposed that she call home and find out if Alexander, her husband, had returned. (Frankly I didn’t favour the idea of encountering dead bodies in the middle of the night, either.) She did, but nobody picked up the receiver, which thrust her into further despair. She started crying again, and was on the brink of hysterics. Clearly, I would have to go out there, and get the body.
I started dressing myself to go outside. I wasn’t in a great hurry, and the longer it took me, the more distinctly could I feel the fine shivering in the bottom of my stomach – the messenger of fear. At some point, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, one hand in the sleeve of the fur-coat, the other – holding down the scarf on the neck, staring blankly at nothing in particular, my lips moving. It seemed my thoughts: “I’m not afraid. I deal with dead people every day. I am not afraid!” – found their way out through almost inaudible whisper.
I startled, as if suddenly coming back to life from the depths of my mind, foreshadowing something ugly, and hurried to finish up dressing and be on my way to the mine - I suddenly realized that if I spend ten more minutes getting ready, the terror would overwhelm me, and no force will be able to drag me outside. So, I hastily buttoned up the coat, grabbed my fur cap, and rushed out of the door, into the snowstorm.
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vovan
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It seemed the wind was constantly blowing in my face. The sudden gusts flung the snow at me, which stuck to my face, and got into the eyes. It felt as if thousands of tiny needles were poking at my cheeks, and an ice-cold veil was being thrown over the eyes. My poor nose. It felt especially bad. I have always wondered why, oh, why did they invent gloves for the hands, when we could just put them into the pockets of the fur-coat, and not for the nose, which had to be outside. I could feel the tiny drops of vapour from my breath freeze inside my nostrils, and all the little capillaries, veins and arteries constrict so tightly that the whole nose began to hurt, and became insensible to touch.
My god, I thought, even though I am an atheist, my god, what am I doing here. Why could I not wait till the morning, and let the police handle the whole case! And the wind, the horrible wind, that pierced right through the clothes, and touched my stomach with its icy grip. It felt as if the nature itself was trying to stop me. The wind and the snow pushing me back to the warmth and safety of shelter.
And yet, I moved on. Making up excuses to give to Svetlana, if I return with nothing, I made my way to the mine. As I was passing the building with the air pump for the mine, I noticed some words scratched on the concrete wall. I came closer. It looked like the inscription was made with a rusty nail, in a bad handwriting. “Claw was here”, the writing said. I shook my head. That kid. He was obsessed with strange things, and loved to pull pranks on people. One evening, I stayed late in the morgue, filling out forms, and doing other paperwork. Around midnight, he sneaked up to the window, and started howling like a wolf. As I leaned out to tell him the joke wasn’t funny, he hurled a snowball right in my face, shouted: “Got any werewolves in your freezer, mister Pleshkov?” -- and ran away, screaming: “The dead shall walk, the dead shall walk!” -- bursting into an occasional fit of laughter.
With such thoughts, I approached the mine entrance. By now, I was almost tiptoeing, not walking, as if there was somebody to scare away. The wind had clamed down, and I was trying to see as far as I could, to spot the body. And yet, white snow was evenly covering the space ahead of me -- I could see nothing dark. This idea made me a little sick, because I thought of having to dig in the snow to find the body. After all, it must have been more than three hours now since Svetlana last was here: the snow could have covered the body. The fact that I couldn’t see her tracks convinced me that that was the case even more. I went through the gate, and saw a track in the snow. It was a groove, as if somebody dragged a body!
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vovan
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Thanks for the inexhasutible support, that your posts have always been, Chrisius.
I stood there, like a fool, staring at the track, trying to decide whether to follow it or not. After all, if somebody dragged the body away, they must have had a reason for doing so. Therefore, they wouldn’t be too happy if I start bugging them. Satisfied with that thought, I turned around to walk back to the morgue. But then I thought of Svetlana. She must be sitting there, waiting for me to bring in the body, and verify that it is not her husband. I imagined coming in, and telling her instead, that somebody dragged the body away. Ugh. I always hated it when people cry. I just cannot stand that. And she would surely beat in hysterics, if her painful foreshadowing were prolonged further.
I turned back to take yet another look at the groove as if it would tell me who it was that dragged the body away, or better yet, who the unfortunate victim was. Besides, maybe it was just some drunken man that passed out in front of the mine? Yes, yes, it all made sense now. It must have been somebody’s birthday. So, all the men left the mine early to go to the party. They were in such a hurry that they didn’t even close the gate behind them. By seven o’clock, when Svetlana was passing the mine, the party had already been in progress, and one of the men had drunk so much, that he fell asleep in a snow bank. And her husband wasn’t at home, because he was out with his buddies. That made perfect sense! But what about the night watch? He must have gone to the restroom or something.
And now, the man must have gone away, having come back to his senses from the cold. Then again, this track didn’t look too much like person walking... Well, maybe he crawled away, too weak to walk?
What a great thought! How come I didn’t think of that earlier? Indeed, how foolish of me to be so frightened, when the explanation might have been so simple. In a much better mood, I headed to the booth of the night watch to tell him of this silly misunderstanding and have a nice laugh together.
To be continued...
This chapter is dedicated to unscratchedfoot, whose prediction was the closest yet. Or was it? 
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06-11-2002 00:55
In small doses. 
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