Printed from cont. - Papuan from Honduras (continued).

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│  PRINTED WITH CONTINUATION.  │
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 (R) Fedin Pavel


 V. Shinkarev

		      Papuan from Honduras.
			 (continued)


 First series

			  Islander

		     "So many years on the island and not a moment of peace!
		     No, after all, it was not in vain that the savages devoured him..."
						       Yu. Nagibin


   The weather was cloudy, as usual for these places.  icy wind
rolled the swells of the lead Mediterranean Sea onto the gloomy Azure
reg. It was drizzling with piercing rain.

   Lord Temple Chron, with his legs apart, stood ponderously on the terrace of his
his unpleasant palazzo and, frowning his eyebrows, looked intensely at
sea.  As always, he counted the waves.  (Unfortunately, almost anyone
the reason for this somewhat paradoxical beginning is clear to the viewer
- filming takes place on the shores of the Gulf of Finland.  Lord Chron look-
heading straight towards the dark silhouette of Kronstadt.  The last ones float by
season ships.  Seagulls, like black paper, fly in shreds
air.  But Valery doesn’t notice this; we won’t come either.
fight. )

   Lord Chron, having had his fill, pulled his cocked hat down further
and walked home through the puddles.

   (The camera pans across the whitishthe stones of the terrace, eaten away by
some rust and fuel oil. It sounds like creepy, wary music.
ka.)

			* * *


   Luxuriously furnished dining room in the Palazzo of Lord Chron.

   At the large table, Lord Chron appetizingly slurped julienne soup in
accompanied by his daughter, Lady Elizabeth Chron, a plain-looking
a provincial girl of thirty years old, a hanger-on of Frau Margaret Mor-
genstern, a fierce person, an old friend of Peter Schachl.

   Poor Peter, all white and delicate, has long since overstepped his
the last stage of the malignant development of consumption.  When trying
say anything, he breaks into a fit of painful coughing -
stamps his feet, tears the lace on his chest so that gold falls from
lace, sweeps Delft faience off the table. Therefore, behind his back
standing there was a black man who was squeezing the poor fellow in his steel arms -
yah, without even letting out a word. In general, there are quite a lot of blacks in the dining room
- they stood in pairs at each door, naked to the waist, in morocco
in trousers, with some idiotic turbans on their heads. Some
which were fanned.

   (Valera Marus leaned back on the cot and laughed. He
I imagined that in his room a guy was hanging around day and night.
A group of shirtless blacks opens the doors to the toilet for him
and into the kitchen, they drive away mosquitoes with their fans, at night they sparkle
with bulging eyes that look like fried eggs. )

   Lord Chron, having scooped up all the julienne soup with a spoon, moved it away from hisI shook the plate, wiped my shiny mouth, and smeared the large splashes with my elbow.
soup on the tablecloth.

   The bobbed footman accepted the plate, looking inquiringly at the lord.
in the eyes, he loudly clapped his hands as a sign of approval (at the ENT
Yes, the hands are small).  Immediately several blacks, naked to the waist,
They brought in several bottles of port wine and glasses.

   Peter Schachl, somewhat perked up, tried to say something,
pointing at the bottles with a trembling finger, but went into a fit of mu-
cough.  He barely had time to press the thin cambric to his lips.
handkerchief, as the black man grabbed it and squeezed it in his oily
hugs.

   “Give the guy a drink in peace,” muttered Lord Chron,
uncorking the bottle.

   Having freed himself, poor Peter looked at the handkerchief and sadly
with a reproachful, reproachful look he showed to his fellow diners: on the scarf there was
There were scarlet specks of blood.

   Lady Elizabeth, a nice girl, looked at the handkerchief with incredulity.
sensible excitement.

   Frau Margaret Morgenstern looked like a ghoul.

   The lackeys and blacks lit candles.

   “There it is, damn it,” Lord Chron said thoughtfully.

   (It is noticeable that Lord Chron is not deeply
called and generally intelligent person;  the authors wish to
give the film a socially moral tone.  Well, let's put it bluntly:
Lord Chron received his education at a parochial school, and
finished three classes, fourth corridor. In society, however, hehe knew how to hide it, partly due to his lack of communication skills.  Lord
did not attach too much importance to what was not included
in the range of his interests, which, however, are not very wide. )

   - Let me remind you that our meal interrupted the report
“Pitana,” said Frau Margaret in the ensuing silence.  Frau
Margaret swings her jaws like a shark when she speaks.

   In the new silence, Lord Chron can be heard sipping
there is wine. Lackeys and blacks look at him with respect.

   - Vbangi, call the captain!  - Frau Margaret said gloomily
Morgenstein.

   “I, Frau,” answered the shirtless Vbangi, bowing, and approached
going to the door, he shouted loudly.

   The cheerful captain entered the dining room with a respectful half-bow;
waves his hat and smiles. Even Frau Margaret smiled slightly
faced him, baring two powerful fangs, and Lady Elizabeth's mouth opened
rummaged to the ears.  Poor Schahl smiles at the beautiful dying
smile: play, children, you live, but I die. Lord Chron
paid special attention to the newcomer: he was holding a bottle over
glass, sparingly squeezing out the last drops.

   The lacquered footman accepted the captain's hat and sedately walked away to
a crowd of half-naked blacks.

   (Valera yawned heavily and switched the TV to another program
rammu.  He is bored and uninteresting.  According to another program, bears in
in skirts they slowly play hockey with a scantily clad beauty.  ValeraI lazily looked at this monstrous nightmare for some time, but
the cameraman focuses the camera on the unfortunate animals, not the beauties
ke, and Valera, swearing dirty, switches the TV again
to "Papuan from Honduras", deciding to watch it to the end.  In general
speaking, the mechanical visual food offered to us by television
nium, as a rule, represents a soul-corrupting, but not
interesting nonsense, which means it should be the same in my opinion
narration... well, okay, let's see. )

   - As soon as the ship approached the unmarked island
row,” the cheerful captain tells animatedly (on the screen
they call pieces of the sea, land and much of what we are talking about) -
the impression of its uninhabitation abruptly dissipated. Here and there the view
there were traces of an intelligent, or I would rather say, man-made action
telnosti. The island was blocked off in different directions by hedges,
fences and palisades built for no apparent purpose. On be-
in the river, also surrounded by a fence, there was a small wooden structure
a weapon that resembles, pardon me, lady, a toilet - what it is
subsequently it turned out to be.  What did all this mean?  For what? I got it
telescope and carefully examined the island in search of smoke from
fire - it is known that the inhabitants of uninhabited islands constantly
tire themselves by lighting fires in the hope that the
ships passing by will look at them in some special wayattention.  However, neither fire nor smoke was visible; that is, there was smoke,
but it was the smoke of a fire-breathing mountain rising in the middle of the island.
The spyglass greatly enhanced the wild impression of the island.
Endless, unnecessary hedges frightened the imagination - entertainment
crazy, and maybe someone did this convict
work to kill time? When I was ready to make a decision
work the shafts well and out of harm's way, come to me
The supercargo arrived and silently pointed to the one lying in a small recess.
nii strange object, reminiscent of a box, but rather a coffin... and...
thank God, sir, that I still decided to approach this crazy
new island! - the beaming captain declared triumphantly.

   Lord Chron with his usual expression of calm stupidity
silently looked at the captain.

   - To the point, captain, to the point in short!  - metal uterine
Frau Margaret said in a voice.

   - If you please, madam, if you please! This assumption is brilliant
but it was confirmed - it was, in fact, a coffin, in which le-
the only inhabitant of the island.

   - Dead? - Lord Chron asked.

   - The most depressing and solemn thing in the gloomy atmosphere of this
island was that no!

   - What is “what is not”? - Frau Margaret asked impatiently.

   - The poor guy was lying in a coffin alive.

   “However, I’m pretty tired of you, captain,” she announced wearily
Frau Margaret, - WhyI can't tell you briefly, specifically,
without emotions and in order?

   “Then I won’t tell you anything at all.”

   - And without hysterics. Well, you've come to the coffin...

   - I ordered two well-tarred boats to be launched into the water,
one of them, loaded above the gunwale, he sat down himself...

   - You have come to the coffin! Further!

   - The poor guy was lying in a coffin.  Who is he?  Why is it lying here? I
spoke to him in English, but he did not seem to speak it. He
He looked at me sternly and bitterly, without moving. Then the supercar
he spoke to him in Spanish, and French, and thieves
- it was all in vain. The poor fellow has forgotten how to speak. He is silent, gloomy
and looked expectantly at the ship's crew, huddled in his
coffin In the evening he drank himself to death on red wine and died without having spoken.
Niv didn’t say a word - that’s how merciless she turned out to be towards the unfortunate
fate.  How can I imagine that he spent twenty long years
walks along the island between its hedges, overlooks the blue-orange
shore, craning his neck, looking for ships...

   - Where did you get the idea that exactly twenty years?

   - From the diary, dear Frau Morgenstein, from the diary - here
from where! The poor guy kept a diary! Unfortunately, he is so eaten up by
shadow that I could only understand part of it, but that was enough
but... Yes, yes, gentlemen! God knows - quite, quite enough!

   - God, really, that's enough. I've had enough
your chatter!The captain, with a dignified manner, flared his nostrils.

   Suddenly Lord Chron let out a satisfied exclamation:

   - Yes, at least it’s a rich port wine!

   For some time everyone looked at him expectantly, but
It was clear that this was all he wanted to say.

   - And Frau Margaret, it seemed so interesting to me... - hesitantly -
Lady Elizabeth said emphatically.

   - But it seemed so nepekpectucb! - re-entered the conversation
Lord Chron. He became lively and good-natured.

   Peter Schachl looked at him bitterly and began to have a fit
painful cough. Clearing his throat into a handkerchief, he looked at it and
silently reproachfully demonstrated to everyone present: on
The handkerchief was stained with blood.

   “Go on, captain,” said Frau Margaret, a few
ennobled by this spectacle, let us not get excited, but also over-
We will not pour empty into empty, because we all have
your affairs - you have yours, I have my own, Lord Chron has his own...

    Lord Chron went about his business in silence, and the captain continued:

   - Many years ago, a storm threw a lonely hermit ashore -
Well, time did not spare the poor fellow, but retained part of his tragedy -
cultural heritage, eaten up, as I already said, unfortunately
mold.  I won’t talk about the ordeals and hardships (associated
with disobedience to parents) experienced by the poor fellow from the moment of birth
until the fatal accident that ended the civilized periodlife of a wretched man. Yes, actually, what do they say about life on the island?
take a long time?  For twenty years he wandered around the island, then falling into
impatience characteristic of melancholic people, then slowly starting to
improve life.  Almost every sentence in his diary begins
with the phrase “having thought everything through carefully.”  It's a constant "thoroughly everything"
having thought about it" concerning obvious things might cause a smile, but
the caution of the poor fellow, so punished by fate, is understandable, forgivable
poignant and touching. A hazard that has already been eliminated invariably causes
he was terrified - after a single earthquake, the unfortunate
I never decided to climb into the cave for my simple belongings.
He was afraid to swim in the sea for fear of storms, tides and
sea monsters.  He did not use the boat he had
not once.  The poor fellow was afraid to look at the fire-breathing mountain, and
Of course, I never approached her. Here, for example, is one of the recordings
this: “In the morning, strong thunder struck. Having fallen in fright, he lay there for two
days without movement."

   - Why did you find him lying in a coffin?

   - In the last, most painful years of loneliness, misfortune -
more and more often complained that, they say, “there is no one, me, unfortunately-
go, bury it."  It took six months of hard work to build
coffin, after which the poor fellow wondered: who took him there?
lies down after death?  The only way out was to
lie in a coffin for a long time waitingdeath. diary of recent years pest-
Rit with entries like: “October 6. I lay in a coffin all day, but
death is not coming."  The unfortunate man focused on the funeral theme
so much so that I am inclined to attribute some of the recordings to his disorientation.
special imagination.  For example: “Three were born on my island
son..."

   - How? - cried Peter Schachl, coughing painfully.

   The captain looked sternly at Peter and continued:

   "...three sons, three healthy young men. I named the first one - Not a whale
and the cat, the second - Not a cat but a whale, the third - Both a whale and a cat. But I'm early
I was happy, there would be no one to bury me anyway: all three
kau-kau anthropophagiantroposophists."

   - What is "kau-kau"?

   - “Kau-kau” in the native language - gobbled up.

   - Judging by the names, these were sons from a native woman?

   - Frau, there is not a single word in the diary that sheds light on
these strange sons, there is nothing about antopophagous anthroposo-
fov.  Of course, the unfortunate man was very afraid of the natives and, defending himself from
them, blocked the entire island, but not once does he mention
that I saw anyone, with the exception of a strange entry: “May 26.
God, how tired I am of this drunken sailor!” Judging by these words,
it can be assumed that the island was still visited by at least
at least one civilized ship, but you know the customs of the sailors
our merchant fleet: having landed on the shore, everything was terribly changed -
drinking beer and chatting with the islanders, includinginhabitants of neo-
inhabited islands, comes down to finding out where the
melt mash or moonshine. They are completely indifferent to pleas for help.
hee, and it’s more than likely that in response to the unfortunate man’s requests to imagine
to his captain, the sailors responded with drunken guffaws and wishes of "si-
pay attention to where you sit”, “don’t rock the boat”, etc. The next entry is amazing
with its hopelessness: “May 27. Lord! No one again, no one!
If only some aliens would come! I've gone so wild
and felt bad that today, when I left the house, I didn’t button my pants (at
At these words, Frau Margareu casts an expressive glance at the lord
Chronicle.  However, the lord, lulled by the captain’s speech, had long since pressed
ears and fell asleep peacefully.) So I will get to the point where I will swim
naked and peeing under the bushes!"

   It must be said that the toilet was the first construction of the islander
upon arrival on the island.  Then he was full of strength, plans, recording
differed in brevity. Here is one of the first entries:

   "January-July. Built a reliable toilet. Carefully thought through everything -
Mav, only scored one point so far."

   - All this is endlessly instructive, captain, but is it really all
will your report be of a general educational nature only?  On-
I hope you realize that Lord Chron cannot,
I just don’t have the right to devote so much time to listening
barren fables?

   - Now you will see, Frau, that my report has an exceptionalstrictly applied value. Let me get to the main point. Many years ago
the storm crashed another ship onto the island of the unfortunate islander
- that is, the ship turned out to be completely intact and was a modest gift -
fate for the ill-fated hermit, but his entire crew, up to a single
a new person, was killed or drowned. I quote from the diary:

   "Having thought everything over carefully, I entered the cabin, which, by all accounts,
signs, belonged to the captain - this was evidenced by her
decoration and richness of decoration. There were several paintings hanging on the walls
in rich golden frames, one of them, brushes by Theophanes the Greek, depicts
struck a naked nymph and satyrs. Apparently, the paintings were worth
expensive, but I thought with bitterness that in my situation, they are all
I can’t sell it to anyone, but, therefore, they are for me
useless trash.  On the mahogany wardrobe that I
subsequently dragged into a cave, there were several books on unknown
language, apparently Portuguese.  Think everything over carefully
Mav, I grabbed them too, hoping to learn the language over time (running
forward, I must admit that no matter how many times subsequently I
I took up books, but could not understand the language.  Thus,
the only book in English I had was the Bible, but
I didn’t have time to read it).  Opening the wardrobe, the first thing I saw was
half a dozen shirts of fine Dutch linen, which were subsequently
your tweets were very useful to me, and the supplier witha dozen bottles is good
of port wine, which came in handy immediately. Still in the wardrobe
lay a large bag of gold coins - sovereigns, doubloons,
ducats and reals.  “Useless rubbish!” I thought bitterly
me - I would give you all for a bottle." However, everything is carefully
After thinking about it, I took this money with me."

   - Would you be curious to know where they are?  - Frau Mohr asked quickly
genstern - Patience, Frau, patience! Patience, patience, patience
patience, patience and again - patience!  "In the depths of the wardrobe stood
a small box, which, upon breaking open, left me speechless for a minute: in
there lay the famous Carbonado diamond!

   - Where is he?  - Having found the power of speech, Frau Margaret cried out.
Lord Chron, shuddering, breaks away from the embrace of the morpheus and is frightened
looks at those present.  Lady Elizabeth's lower jaw is loose
it hits his collarbones, and poor Peter Schachl goes into a fit of agony.
body, unbearable cough.

   A minute later, respectful silence is restored and the captain
solemnly continued:

   "Yes! My eyes did not deceive me: in front of me lay a sign-
thy diamond "Carbonado"!  The diamond blinded me with its size and
so shiny, I could barely hold it in one hand.  "Oh my God!  - with
I thought bitterly, and just think that this diamond, by searching
which the entire civilized world is busy with, fell to me;  me, for
which he is just a useless piece of trash!" "Carbona-up to "! Diamond, valued at one time at five hundred gold maravedis,
lay in my hand!"

   - What, what? What kind of... mandula - asked Lord Chron.

   - Maravedi. Such a large unit of money.

   - How many rubles will this be?

   - How much, how much... Five hundred! Golden ones! Maravedi... - passionate -
but Frau Morgenstern whispered.

   “Having thought everything over carefully,” the captain continued to read, “I decided
take the diamond with you and bury it in a safe place along with
money..."

   - So where is he now?  - Frau Margaret asked anxiously.

   “It’s buried in a safe place, Frau,” the captain answered calmly.
looking away from the manuscript.

   - And you didn’t dig it up from a safe place?

   - The poor fellow gave up the ghost without revealing the secret to us.  For a whole month
the ship's crew dug up and shoveled the island, but all searches
remained in vain, we did not find any reliable place. By-
it would take the efforts of a large group of people - in my opinion it would be
It would be advisable to involve blacks in such a task. So I continue:

   "The box in which the diamond was kept also contained volumes -
a concise manuscript which is, so to speak, a biography
diamond, starting from its appearance on the market, which happened in Florida
rents in the 16th century..."

   Creepy, disturbing, Italian lute music sounds and...
The captain, standing in a significant pose, is obscured by the caption: “The End
first episode."


		      To be continued.

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