Volka sighed and got undressed. Then he stretched out under the clean cool sheet. Still, he was restless.
On the night table near his bed lay a large, thick volume in a brightly-coloured dust-cover. Volka’s heart skipped a beat. Yes, that was it, the longed-for astronomy book! On the frontispiece in a large familiar hand were the words:
“To Vladimir Kostylkov, the Highly Educated 7th-Grade Student and Acting Member of the Astronomy Club of the Moscow Planetarium, from his Loving Grandma.”
What a funny inscription! Grandma always invented something funny. But why didn’t it make Volka smile? Oh, why didn’t it! And imagine, he wasn’t at all happy to have finally received such a fascinating book, the one he had wished for for so long. Grief was eating out his heart. He felt a great weight on his chest… It was unbearable!
“Grandma!” he shouted, turning away from the book. “Grandma, would you come here a minute?”
“Well, what do you want, mischief-maker?” his grandmother answered, pretending to be angry, but really pleased that she’d have a chance to talk to him before he went to sleep. “Why, the Sandman can’t even cope with you, you astronomer! You night owl!”
“Grandma,” Volka whispered fervently, “close the door and come sit on my bed. I have to tell you something terribly important.”
“Perhaps we’d better put off such an important conversation till morning,” his grandmother answered, though she was consumed with curiosity as to what it was all about.
“No, right now. This very minute. I … Grandma, I wasn’t promoted, I mean, I wasn’t yet. I didn’t pass the exam.”
“Did you fail?” his grandmother gasped.
“No, I didn’t fail. I didn’t pass, but I didn’t fail, either. I started to tell them what the ancients thought about India , the horizon, and all kinds of things. Everything I said was right. But I just couldn’t tell them about the scientific point of view. I began to feel very bad and Varvara Stepanovna said I should come back after I had had a good rest.”
Even now, he could not bring himself to talk about Hottabych, not even to his grandma. Anyway, she’d never believe him and would think he was really ill.
“At first, I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted to tell you after I took the exam again, but I felt ashamed. D’you understand?”
“What’s there to understand! A person’s conscience is a great thing. There’s nothing worse than doing something that’s against your conscience. Now go to sleep, my dear astronomer!”
“You can take the book back meanwhile,” Volka suggested in a trembling voice.
“Nonsense! And where would I put it? Let’s consider that I’ve given it to you for safe-keeping for the time being. Go to sleep now, will you?”
“Yes,” Volka answered. A load had fallen from his chest. “And I promise you, upon my word of honour, that I’ll get an ‘A’ in geography. D’you believe me?”
“Certainly, I do. Now go to sleep and get strong. What about Father and Mother? Shall I tell them, or will you tell them yourself?”
“You’d better tell them.”
“Well, good night.” Grandma kissed him good night, turned off the light, and left the room.
For some while after, Volka lay in the darkness, holding his breath, waiting to hear his grandma tell his mother and father the sad news. However, he fell asleep before they came home.
A RESTLESS NIGHT
Before an hour passed, however, he was suddenly awakened by the ringing of the telephone in the hall.
His father answered the phone:
“Hello. Yes. Who? Good evening, Varvara Stepanovna?… I’m fine, thank you. And you? … Volka? He’s asleep… I think he’s quite well. He had a very big supper… Yes, I know. He told us… I’m terribly surprised myself… Yes, that’s probably the only answer… ,. Certainly, he should rest a while, if you have no objections… Thank you very much… Varvara Stepanovna sends you her regards,” his father said to his mother. “She wanted to know how Volka is. She said not to worry, because they think very highly of him, and she suggests he have a good rest.”
Volka strained his ears listening to what his parents were talking about, but unable to make anything out, he fell asleep. This time he slept no longer than fifteen minutes. The telephone rang again.
“Yes, speaking,” he heard his father’s muffled voice. “Yes… Good evening… What?… No, he’s not here… Yes, he’s at home… Certainly he’s at home… That’s quite all right… Good-bye.”
“Who was it?” Volka’s mother called from the kitchen. “It was Zhenya Bogorad’s father. He sounded very worried. Zhenya’s not home yet. He wanted to know whether he was here and if Volka was at home.”
“In my time,” Grandma said, “only hussars came home this late, but when a child…”
Half an hour later the ringing of the telephone interrupted Volka’s sleep for the third time that troubled night. It was Zhenya’s mother. He had still not returned. She wanted them to ask Volka if he knew where he was.
“Volka!” his father called, opening the door. “Zhenya’s mother wants to know where you saw him last.” “At the movies this evening.” “And after the movie?” “I didn’t see him after that.” “Did he say where he was going afterwards?” “No.”
For a long, long time after that, Volka waited for the grown-ups to stop talking about Zhenya’s disappearance (he himself was not the least bit worried, since he was sure Zhenya had gone to the circus in the recreation park to celebrate), but he fell asleep again before they did. This time till morning.
Soon there was a soft splash in the corner. Then the patter of wet bare feet could be heard. Footprints appeared and quickly dried on the floor. Someone invisible was silently pacing the room, humming a plaintive Eastern melody.
The footprints headed towards the table where an alarm clock was ticking away. There was the sound of lips smacking together with pleasure. Then the alarm clock floated into the air, and for a while it hung suspended between the ceiling and the floor. Then it returned to the table and the footprints headed towards the aquarium. Once again there was a splash. Then all was quiet.
Late that night it began to rain. The raindrops pattered on the window, they rustled the leaves of the trees and gurgled in the drain-pipes. At times the rain would die down, and then one could hear the large drops falling into the rain barrel below with a loud, ringing splash. Then, as if having gathered its. strength, the rain would again pour down in torrents.
Towards morning, when the sky was nearly clear of clouds, someone tapped Volka lightly on the shoulder. He was sound asleep and did not waken. Then, whoever it was who had tried to awaken him, sighed sadly, mumbled, and shuffled towards the high stand with Volka’s aquarium. There was a faint splash. Once again a sleepy quiet fell on the room.
THE UNUSUAL EVENTS IN APARTMENT 37
Goga’s mother had not bought him a dog after all. She had not had the time to, and later on she never got him one, for after the fantastic events of that terrible evening, both Goga and his mother lost all interest in Man’s oldest and truest friend.
But Volka had clearly heard a dog barking m apartment 37 . Could he have been mistaken?
No, he was not mistaken.
And yet, there had been no dog in apartment 37 that evening. If you want to know, not so much as a dog’s paw entered their house after that evening.
Truly, Volka had no reason to be envious of Goga. There was nothing to be envious of: it was Goga who had barked! It all began while he was washing up for supper. He was very anxious to tell his mother a long and elaborate story about how his classmate and neighbour, Volka Kostylkov, had made a fool of himself at the examination that morning. And it was then that he started barking. Goga didn’t bark all the time — some words were real words — but instead of very many other ones, he was surprised and horrified to hear a genuine dog’s bark issue from his mouth.