Chapter 1. 3. Souvenir

  Ignoring this warning, we looked out.

  Information, unable to restrain itself, screamed.

  A waiter was standing in the yard.

  I examined the face with a terrible lacquered skin tone.

  And suddenly we heard a scream.

  The sound grew louder and, when it seemed it should have stopped, it intensified in a drawn-out manner.

  Nature itself can scream so fiercely in a fit of irresistible resistance - the painful howl turned into a foreign groan with a powerful breath, like the wind.

  The creature, as if under pressure, yawned widely, as if wanting to swallow a large piece, grouped itself and expressively jumped from its place to the hidden darkness of the slums, and disappeared.

  We were all scared.

  “Quiet!” Drama was pale.

  “What is it?” Information asked with an awkward smile. “Is it a person?”

  “You move aside!” Drama said. “What if it's still looking... from the darkness. My friend!” he remembered. “How did you get in? Is the door really...”

  “The door was left open?” Information exclaimed.

  “No. Everything is locked,” I was forced to say, but this completely calmed them down.

  Drama sat in his chair, frowning.

  Information, apparently, was digesting the spectacle. Me too.

  This savage surpasses the delightful gloss that Lagoon and I hopelessly hunted for in the jungle.

  We listened endlessly.

  The morning found me fast asleep on the sofa.

  Drama woke me up. His face was exhausted. He apparently hadn't slept.

  “The yacht has arrived. We are returning to the shore. Friend, are you with us?”

  “Of course.”

  It was still very early.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Before lunch, the sun's rays, passing through the tall foliage above the roof, tickled me. I sneezed. The edge of the roof was covered with foliage.

  Lagoon was sleeping under a crumpled blanket.

  We woke up for lunch. Mother was waiting for us.

  There was food on the table. Lagoon liked my mother very much, and he was not at all embarrassed by her.

  “Wash yourself,” said the mother. “I’ll be waiting for you on the terrace.”

  I washed myself first and went to the terrace.

  My mother was sitting at the table with a man. He had the long face of a conqueror, and he was hugging my mother around the waist.

  My mother looked cheerful.

  “Hello!” the man said in a deep voice.

  I recognized him. He was the capital's nouveau riche Feat. According to rumors, he was fabulously rich.

  On my mother's chest hung a heavy necklace that I had never seen before.

  “Is this your talent?” said the man, smiling approvingly. “Change!”

  Lagoon arrived. He saw the man, and his face became, as always, sly. Nouveau riche did not spoil his appetite.

  After dinner, the mother and her Feat remained in the rocking chairs. The mother purred royally, and he extolled her with his gaze.

  Lagoon disappeared again.

  I kept silent, especially since we were supposed to have fun that night.

  I already guessed what was going on.

  At the abandoned construction site I put the glass in the suitcase, and a short time later Effect put it near Information's room.

  A pretty maid passed by, giving me a mocking smile.

  Effect's room was covered with illustrations of magazine beauties.

  Having swallowed some poison and rested his face on his palm, Effect, pointing at them, began to casually explain which of them he had spent more time on, and when I allowed myself to doubt, Effect shook his head, removing all suspicions of lying from himself.

  “I work. Temporarily,” he said. “I have big plans.”

  Everyone has plans. Big plans. Grandiose.

  Even this underdeveloped duckling. Everyone says it like an oath.

  Everyone is behaving deliberately carelessly, haphazardly, as if they were under someone's care, but as if they were strictly following a pre-planned, all-conquering scheme.

  “Effect, you're here.”

  Effect froze, looking at the door, and responded with hopelessness in his voice.

  “You carry the suitcase.”

  “I'm not a slave.”

  “Why are you in a hotel?”

  The worker slowly pulled up the constantly falling children's pants with his small hands, similar to chicken feet.

  For some reason, I always paid attention to the hands of a reasonable person.

  The hotel has many cozy places. I looked into the semi-dark bar with a low ceiling.

  A girl with lively brown eyes on a broad face with a short, slightly flattened nose and dark skin, suggesting native origin, was looking straight at me from behind the counter.

  A slow, mysterious smile made her face very attractive in the red-green half-light.

  The striped cape evenly covered her shoulders, leaving them open.

  The girl seemed sad and funny for some reason, and she thought that I, a guy who had stopped by chance, shared her mood.

  Her plump lips slowly stretched, and her wide-set eyes turned into two small warm moons.

  I raised my head. The orchestra was playing retro.

  The music Nature was glossy, preparing for events.