Wild Bastard

33

The next day I went to the bar to pick up last month's salary. Mrs. Blanchard, to my great surprise, did not yell or reproach me for absenteeism. My appearance was probably too eloquent to ask additional questions. She only asked me if I would be ready to start work in two days and, having received an affirmative answer, handed me an envelope with cash.

I went straight to my former landlady and shoved her money for a partial month's stay. The hippopotamus snatched a couple of bills from my hands with a disgruntled look, not missing a chance to throw a quip in my back about how she wouldn't be surprised to see me on the side of the road in six months. B*tch.

Half a day in the hospice at least briefly drove thoughts of reality out of my head. Mrs. Field was sincerely happy to see me, giving me a tiny hope that at least someone in this world cared about me.

I read her a chapter of The Count of Monte Cristo, where the hero swam across the vast expanse of the sea, and for some reason I thought at that moment that Edmond, too, was lonely. The whole world had turned against him, but he had survived. He snatched a new life for himself. And that wasn't fiction. Although in real life for the prototype of the literary work all ended sadly. But he still had a lot to go through. Just look at the jailbreak. So maybe for me there is something else in this life besides rubbing glasses?

I walked home. I bought a hot dog and a bottle of soda at the nearest bus stop and walked along the road. The weather, however, was not at all conducive to a walk. The wind was blowing hard, the air smelled damp, and the dark sky overhead threatened to rain. But there was no way out. The bus had just left, and waiting for half an hour at the bus stop without a roof was obviously more pointless than simply walking toward town. It was smarter to walk and hitch a ride.

But it seemed that even nature had turned against me today. After about ten minutes on the road, the sky was pouring with cold rain. I pulled off my denim jacket, threw it over my head, and sped up.

There was a piercing wind that got under my skin, the drops whipping painfully against my cheeks. I walked along the road, turning back from time to time, and voted, but in vain. Assholes! No one stopped! And one even doused me in a puddle, the damn deer!

By the time I got to the nearest bus stop, I was freezing to the bone. My teeth chattered and my fingers trembled as I passed the bus fare. I hope this walk wouldn't give me a cold tomorrow. I'd promised to go to work, and there was no way I was going to be sick.

When I got home in my squishy sneakers, I quickly got rid of my clothes and climbed under the hot shower. Vikky whistled when she saw me and told me I needed to warm up with some tea. While my friend twisted around in the kitchen, I tried to keep the icy shiver under my skin. I didn't even dilute the hot water with cold water. When the cherished warmth settled in every pore and it was hard to breathe from the gathered steam in the tiny room, I finally got out of the shower, and a couple of minutes later, already red as a tomato, walked into the kitchen.

"Warmed up? "

There were sandwiches and a cup of coffee waiting on the table.

"I think it was about the tea, wasn't it? "

As I passVikky, I gratefully squeeze her elbow and sit down in a chair. Hunger after an unplanned walk had twisted my stomach into a knot, so without thinking, I sink my teeth into the sausage and sip a hot drink.

"I thought coffee and cognac would suit you much better right now. "

The familiar tang in my windpipe begins to sting as confirmation of her words.

"Thank you, but you shouldn't have. "

After last night I had no desire to drink at all. At least I didn't get in trouble with Anton. My friend passed out almost immediately after what happened, and when he woke up, he didn't even remember how I had almost turned his eggs into mashed potatoes.