Steel Manners

Chapter 1. When two parallels come across

This year is unbearably hot in Hadiach—there were no such fervour nights in a while. Mr. Novak, being the one of organizers of tonight's evening, or better say, night reading, walks in small room, all windows of which are curtained with heavy portieres, and on the table, there are a few small candles that look like church ones. He is noticed immediately—Mr. Levchenko approaches him in quick pace as soon as Karl appears here. Straight away gives him tremendous hand:

'Karl Albertovych, it is a big joy to see you here,' he says mutedly, when his tiny rat eyes barely noticeably gleam behind the thin glass of glasses, which he usually puts on in evening. In the neckline of his simple grey vest, Mr. Novak notices a simple, almost rustic tie—he himself does not look more pretentious. He is wearing his most modest-looking suit, one of those old-fashioned ones left over from his uncle. Frayed neckerchief, tied in a simple bow, and a headdress more like the cap of the regular peasants he sees so often in the streets, walking through the city or hurrying on business. Only the boots—high boots with a low heel, the shafts of which reach his very knees, give him away as a 'gentleman'.

'I've already thought that you'll not dare to come here this time', Mykola Dmytrovych says as if teasing an old friend, throwing conspiratorial look at Mr. Novak, to which he squeezes friend's palm only harder.

'Oh no. You will not get it from me. For me not to come you have to put a bullet in my forehead', he laughs quietly, looking directly into the man's eyes. 'How many have gathered here today?' he asks even more quietly, looking carefully, but imperceptibly, around the room.

'Twenty men—for sure,' Mykola Dmytrovych says more loftily, finally letting go of Karl's hand, to which he remarks:

'That week there were half as many'.

'So that's it,' Mr. Levchenko winks. 'And the next time will be forty—I am telling you!' he enthusiastically says, and then unexpectedly asks:

'Did you manage to bring leaflets?'

'Are you still asking? Why do you think I went to Lemberg?' Karl says almost offended, barely perceptibly opening the hems of his coat, as if he was hiding not just some papers behind them, but a real treasure. Although, to be honest, there are far less chances to be beaten up for the treasure.

'A whole pack. Here, take this,' he, recalling how he carried everything across the border, carefully takes out the letters from his bosom, putting them in his comrade's hands, after which, as if nothing had happened, he pulls the cloak off his shoulders, throwing it on the back of the nearest chair. 'Today we are reading the "Aeneid"'.

'A wonderful choice,' Mr. Levchenko says quietly, smiling.

* * *

'Tighter,' the man says quietly, but clearly, resting his slender hands on the carved table, where the bathing charms, soft towels and a small copper basin with already cooled water for morning shaving are placed. In addition, the silent surface of the exquisite mirror also accommodated here, which sets down small angular figures of chimeras, various creatures, and beasts, which stare at Mr. Novak with empty hazel eyes, baring sharpened teeth.

He grips the dark wood with tenacious fingers, bending down, while the burly woman, dexterously inserting the busk, firmly fastens the corset, binding Karl's thin and fragile body, far more similar to a body of a young man than to a body of a mid-aged man. He only takes a deep breath with difficulty and, pursing his lips, glances at the maid in the mirror shortly. Hanna Weil, who in the thirty plus years of working for Mr. Novak has already managed to understand the needs of the master and adapt to his wishes and desires, only tightens the laces with strong, full hands, besides, leaving a small margin so that the Karl does not suffocate.