Ezoosmos

“Wow! Wow!” Victor repeated like saying a prayer, with his teeth chattering either of cool water or of fear. “Have you seen this? It’s given such a blow! It’s probably this big, not less…”

Along with these words, his fishing “disease” further expanded.

“Yeah, looks like an old cat-fish,” Vano nodded, diligently expressing an awakened interest of an amateur fisherman.

“A cat-fish?! Wow! Yet, have you really seen it?! There is a whole shoal of them here! It’s dragged such a rod away, skunk!”

“Well, this cat-fish weighs something around sixty kilos,” the fishing-mate stirred up the passion and started plying the oars. “My spinning rod definitely won’t help us to cope with them.”

“Yeah,” Victor agreed, secretly being happy that their boat was rapidly moving away from the place of his recent “joy” which had ended with a total horror for him. “We need a stronger fishing-line, and bigger hooks…”

Evidently, the experienced fear caused Victor’s continuous verbal outpouring. On the move, he began to contrive fabulous methods of catching those huge fish.

Still, the most interesting the situation appeared for the rest of the company who were waiting for the two unlucky fishermen on the bank. Having dropped their rods, the other guys perplexedly witnessed Victor’s unbelievable overboard acrobatics and the next happy “rescue of the drowned man” scene which was immediately followed with the high-speed rowing towards the bank. Having felt himself on the ground, Victor finally grew bolder. He started excitedly telling the others about his nearly lucky catch as well as about his heroic fight with the river monsters in the water where he had almost seized the huge fish by the tail… As everyone knows, the biggest fish caught is always the one which certainly gets away from the hook at a crucial moment of a fight.

The flaming fishing and hunting passion spread among the others, being stirred up by Vano a great deal. Everybody started strenuously getting ready for the trophies capture. Some brought huge hooks, some got capron lines… Someone warned that it was better not to go into the water, for he had heard a tragic story about some enormous cat-fish which had swallowed a whole god, and that there were also cannibal cat-fish. Then, a whole serial of various “reliable” cases followed. After all the thriller stories, the guys began to construct “a super-tackle”, a single one for everybody by the way.

Vano morally supported their fishing initiative as he should, but didn’t take any active part in the “project” implementation. He kindly put his boat at disposal of the enthusiasts, and joined Sensei and Nikolai Andreevich who were peacefully sitting far from the entire fuss, on their favorite snag.

“What is this panic all about?” Sensei interested.

“Well,” Father John waved his hand, “your Susanin has played an amphibian. He and his friend have put on aqualungs and are pulling our leg.”

“A-а-аh… This guy is capable of anything like this… As a matter of fact, fishing is a very useful thing… especially for developing one’s imagination.”

They laughed looking at the guys on the bank. By that time, Eugene and Stas had already approached the group as if nothing had happened. They actively joined the general fuss, pouring oil on the flames with passionate speeches and intensive gesticulation.

The “wonder-fish” catching lasted for about three hours. The guys thoroughly furrowed the river space by turns, trying to find Victor’s “valuable take”. In the end, fairly having fagged out their vigor and overstrained their nerved, they all got tired and almost lost hope of catching anything at all.

In the afternoon, the “wonder-fish” secret got disclosed in a very trite way. And the main thing was that it was disclosed by the inimitable humorist who had been the one to make the others swear of non-disclosure of this, nearly “government level” secret… At first, everything went right according to the plan. Eugene even decided to demonstrate courage and heroism of a fearless swimmer in front of the gazing fishermen. The water had already got warmed enough, but nobody really hurried to get into it after all those thriller stories. Only Eugene indulged in swimming with pleasure, diving like a duck in various places in quest of big cat-fish.

Suddenly, being at the deepest part of the river, the guy started to flounder desperately, as if he was drowning. First, everyone thought it was his next tomfoolery. Yet, such of his actions were usually followed with some comic speech declaring all the “heroic merits” of his, whereas now he was speechlessly floundering, disappearing under the water from time to time. Stas was the first one to rush to his help. Bogdan and Svat jumped into the water right after him without hesitation. At that moment, Eugene had finally managed to free himself from something, and he started swimming towards the bank at such speed which probably exceeded the dreams of Olympic swimming champions. Like a shot from a gun, he got out of the water, turned round dread and began looking narrowly at the place where he had nearly drowned.

“What’s happened?” the guys asked, coming up running.

“Have the cat-fished attacked?!” agitated Victor tried to elicit.

“There’s no cat-fish!” Eugene began to jabber very seriously. “Stas and I, we’ve played a trick on you with the cat-fish. But now somebody has been really pulling me to the depth. It’s something very strong and shaggy! It’s a total horror! It’s still giving me the shivers. I’ve released one foot, but it grasped me by the other one with its claw! I wanted to dive under it, but it’s sooooooo huge…”

Sensei who was just passing by the group, stopped, listened to their conversation for a while and looked at the place showed by Eugene on the water. Then he glanced at each of the present, smiled and went his way to get extra hooks.

The crowd was listening to Eugene’s words with distrust when suddenly he fell into a silent stupor. His fastened his eyes upon the water. Everybody looked in that direction, too. Rising from the abyss, there appeared an odd monster overgrown with long slime. It slowly started approaching the bank. The people were standing motionless: some couldn’t move because of interest, some – because of a natural weakness. While the “monster” was gradually showing its human body from the water, and its upper part was clearing from slime, the dead-stopped guys began to give signs of life. In the end, the object of Eugene’s enormous fear became completely transformed into Vano who shook off the last “flock” of slime, dipped into the water and walked to the bank with his customary gap-toothed smile, sleeking his hair with his hands.

“Well, how is the cat-fish?” he teased Eugene archly, and the entire crowd rolled with laughter.

After this incident, nobody was afraid of entering the water any more. The guys were heavily splashing in the river, having thoroughly scared away even the smallest fish. Vano was actively stirring up all that chaotic young enthusiasm with an interminable stream of jokes. He impressed Eugene so much that the latter became friends with him and discovered him as an irreplaceable mate for his “funny affairs” without even noticing it. Almost everyone abandoned fishing and devoted themselves to full-blooded rest. Only Sensei was still sitting on the bank with his rod, as a faithful fisherman. Vano and Eugene could stand it no longer, pointedly swam up to Sensei’s rod and started to tug by the fishing-line one after another, imitating a mighty bite. Sensei tolerated their mockery for a while and then he gave in and said with a smile, “If fishing wasn’t so calming, I would “drown” you both long ago, crucians.”

Eugene cried out optimistically in response, “Fish does not drown in the water!”

And Vano teased Eugene right on the spot, “Hey, you, amphibian! Haven’t you confused something about what does not drown in the water?”

Hilarious laughter resounded above the river again.

* * *

When the group blissfully stretched themselves out in the sun after their “water treatment”, Volodya took a seat near Sensei.

“Nothing?” he pointed to the fishing float.

“Nothing,” Sensei answered with a slight sadness.

“You’d better abandon this hopeless occupation,” Volodya advised with a smile. “I believe no decent fish has ever been found here.”

“E-e-eh, no…” Sensei drawled persistently, but then added after a pause, grinning, “Do you know a folk fishing token? ‘Good biting comes either before you start fishing or after you’ve already made off’.”

“Exactly! So, you better make off, as those “most honest” fishing folks recommend”, Volodya proposed with a laughter.

Sensei supported his joke, “Are you delicately hinting at the “law of nature” under which honest people cannot be good fishermen?”

They both laughed, recalling the widespread fishing tale.

“I’d like to catch at least a single decent one. With such ones,” Sensei pointed at his bottle with several little herrings peacefully swimming inside, “my cat won’t even let me in the door”.

Volodya grinned again and looked towards the forest. Valera came out of it and walked to the camp, dragging along a dry tree trunk.

“Oh, Valera… dragging another log…”

Sensei turned round.

“Fine fellow. He is stocking firewood for tonight, in contrast to others,” he looked at Volodya unambiguously, and then uttered, “including myself”.

“I’ve proposed him to go swimming, but he keeps holding himself aloof from the group.”

“The feels shy. He’s in a new company for the first time. He knows nobody here, except you.”

“It’s true,” Volodya said in a bass voice. “By the way, I wanted to talk with you about him. He’s a good guy, although he’s got quite a hard destiny. He needs help in order not to get into trouble again… We were friends since childhood. He’s my neighbor. We used to attend gym together, and hung out in the same street company… His parents works in the North while Valera was brought up by his grandmother. She’s a really nice woman. Well, when his parents came back to live with him, Valera turned fourteen. And then his “merry life” started. His father started drinking alcohol and beating his mother. She wouldn’t wait long, divorced him and married another man. Yet, her second husband proved to be not better than Valera’s father, and brawls in the family became even more frequent and worse. Valera became very irritable, for reason or without it. For the first time he went to jail by total foolishness. He had then just turned eighteen. A month before he was supposed to go to the military service, he thrashed a man in a street fight. They imprisoned him for a year, after which he was released. He tried to find job, but no one would hire him. Moreover, his stepfather was nagging him with claims that he didn’t want to support a criminal at his expense. To cut a long story short, he had no money, but wanted to have many things like most young people. Well, as a result, he got imprisoned for another three years, this time for a robbery. When he returned from jail, the situation at home was as bad. He didn’t have any opportunity to rent an apartment, and so he got drawn into a gang again. He moved to an apartment in the neighboring district, married a nice girl, but less than in a year he got in trouble once more. They exposed him, fool, to a very serious crime, and he got into jail again... It’s good they’d condemned him to only five years. And, while he was imprisoned, his wife left him, and his parents died in a car accident. His granny was his only close relative remained, but she’s about eighty years old… He’s been released just recently and is still under criminal department control… So, he’s got a really tough life. But, in general, he’s a not a bad guy.”

“Indeed, not a bad guy… having three criminal records only,” Sensei grinned.

“You see, it’s just because he’s life turned the wrong way. I know him for so many years! I sent him letters to jail, to support him morally, so to say. We corresponded particularly frequently during the last four years. It would be good to settle him somewhere, so that he won’t break loose again… You see, he is a weak-willed, wavering guy…”

“Wavering, you say?!” Sensei grinned again and gazed at Volodya strangely.

The latter got confused.

“Well, what if he gets under somebody’s influence again or does something inappropriate…”

“All right, we’ll think something out.”

* * *

With the company’s bywords and jokes, the evening stealthily approached. Oleg and Stas started exercising. Such habit which had become a daily physiological need for many of the guys present contagiously affected the others. The guys from the special operations group practiced a slightly different training technique than Sensei’s disciples, which generated mutual interest of the two exercising parties. One word led to another, and the guys began to share their accumulated “military” and “civil” experience. Unnoticed, it came down to little sparring bouts.

Meanwhile Father John, Sensei, Volodya and Nikolai Andreevich were still trying to fish, catching some tiny ones, which could be used “at least for a smell of fish-soup” as they said, and inconsolably waiting for bells jingle on the “track” which could signal of some big bite. Should they had been very old men, they would hardly be interested in anything except the fishing-rod and the fishing process itself. However, they still had young blood running in their veins, therefore they further more often cast glances at the sparring guys. Finally, Vano couldn’t resist such temptation any more, left his rod to Volodya’s charge and walked towards the fighters.

“Oh!” Sensei grinned. “If this priest got imbued with training, it means an edifying process will start now. Let’s go and see.”

When they approached, Father John was already in his repertory. Stas had accidentally injured Eugene’s lip during the sparring bout, when they both were just trying to demonstrate an interesting clench to Volodya’s guys. Father John began to bustle about Eugene like a caring hen about her chicken, applying a cold compress made of a wet handkerchief to his lip nearly by force. Eugene was waving away in amazement first, saying there’s no problem at all, but then he surrendered to Father John’s pressure and persuasion. Such scene automatically attracted the attention of the rest of spectators.

“You see… you see… it’s always like this: if one’s mind is stupid, his body suffers,” the priest was explaining Eugene the sense of his blunder. “The God’s power must be inside you. Without it, your body is a mere dust, the infinity of suffering.”

“But, in the end, the infinity of suffering upon training leads to ‘the body position steadiness upon fighting’,” Eugene responded jestingly, attempting to stand up from the “penal and injured” beam.

However, the priest who had evidently not finished his edifying homily yet, put his hand on Eugene’s shoulder and riveted him to his previous spot. It was much more comfortable for Father John to preach from above than to “breathe in the navel” of this nearly two-meter-high giant.

“Not really, not really… God’s Spirit is the main thing in a human being. It’s exactly it, and not the transient flesh, is the real source of power. You should rely on it…”

“… but help yourself, too,” Eugene interrupted Father John friskily, making another attempt to stand up.

But Vano seated him with his “iron” hand again. The priest shook his head and looked at Sensei who had just approached them. Imitating an old-mannish voice, making his favorite accent on “o’s”, Vano quoted the poem, “Look at this modern youth! Their deeds, their words! When we very young, we were not foolish like this! Instead, we asked advice: ‘May I do this, or may I do that?’”

Sensei and Volodya smiled, looking at the priest.

“What I’m trying to explain you, little fool, is that you should rely not on your muscles, but on the God’s Spirit which is inside you,” Father John continued to preach to Eugene. “Without it, you are deprived, mere outcast of flesh!”

“Me, deprived?! Mere outcast of flesh?!” Eugene lost his temper and rose at his entire robust enormous height opposite to the skinny priest.

The funny side of the situation caused loud laughter of the group watching what was going on. Vano looked at Eugene’s mighty trunk with pumped muscles, eyed him all over contemptuously, waved his hand and said:

“Weakling! Don’t you think it’s the real power?! It’s only a swollen bag with bones inside it. Should you blow on it, it will fly. I can now show you what the real God’s power is like, accumulated through incessant praying sacrament.”

With these words Father John raised his forefinger instructively, and then pointedly started to strip his upper trunk part. A pitiful sight appeared before the present – a thin, bony priest looking as if he had recently been released from the Buchenwald torture-chamber. There was not a single shadow of muscles on his body. Only unusually thick veins were peeping out from under the priest’s pale skin, which made him resemble a belly-pinched cow in a careless farmer’s cattle-shed. But this important feature along with uncommonly broad wrists and enlarged elbow and shoulder joints could be noticed only by a true pro. For others, his appearance most likely evoked pity and burning desire to give this underfed miracle of nature some foodstuff as soon as possible. Even Eugene who had first got enflamed of fighting, stopped short and cooled down right after seeing such walking skeleton.

With unconcealed smiles on their faces, everybody was looking at the strange priest calling opponents to test his destiny. One would think that even a single finger touch could spill this poor fellow. Driven by either sympathy or respect, no one dared to approach Father John who had managed to become a friend for all of them in less than twelve hours.

“Well?!” the priest pompously put his arms akimbo, standing all alone in wait-and-see position. “Who considers himself strong? Step forward. Even two, three or eight people at once. The power of Spirit is a great power. It is capable of much more than this.”

Seeing sympathy and compassion on the guys’ faces, Sensei came to Father John’s rescue, “Come on, come on, don’t hesitate, skeptics. If the father discourses he can, it means he really does.”

After such “blessing”, the people somewhat began to stir. Seeing Vano’s serious sparring mindset, Eugene came up to Sensei and, failing to find appropriate words in his vocabulary to fully express his indignation, he stretched his arm into the priest’s direction couple times.

“Sensei, how is it possible?!” his compassionate nature finally expressed itself. “I might even kill him accidentally. I wouldn’t take such a sin upon my soul… You know my blow…”

And, not finding proper words again, Eugene stroke a heavy Yoko kick on a nearest tree which was much bigger in size than Father John’s trunk. The mighty blow made the tree shudder, and dried branches began to fall from the top.

“But how?!” he repeated his question.

Remaining absolutely indifferent to Eugene’s demonstration, the priest instructively uttered in response:

“A man’s power is not in his flesh, but in his soul. Jesus spitted upon a fruitless fig-tree, and it withered, whereas your power has only made the branches fall down.”

“OK,” Eugene puffed up, being ready to prove his case in action.

That was exactly what Vano was hoping for. He livened up and started to stir up the audience’s passion like a barker in a marketplace.

“Who else wants to experience the power of the inner spirit? Only this one?” the priest pointed to Eugene. “One is as good as none against such a tremendous power… Come on! Some other daring should join him... I earnestly and very seriously recommend you to display yourself, for I’ll show it first and last time.”

The guys smiled understanding his message in their own way and began to nominate candidates for sparring with the skinny priest, rather for fun than a real fight. Meanwhile, Sensei just grinned enigmatically, and then warned them, no one knew whether jokingly or seriously, “Look, but remember: eyes may deceive. The priest is fond of fooling. When he speaks in such a way, one should be on the alert. I advise you to fight in full contact,” and then he added with a note of black humor: “so that this time won’t be the last time for you.”

Finally, eight guys intending to participate in the joke surrounded Vano at a distance of two to three meters from him. Eugene specially occupied the position right in front of the priest. On one hand, Father John had managed to involve him into sparring. Yet, on the other hand, the guy sincerely pitied the priest. “He doesn’t even imagine what power he faces, – Eugene was thinking to himself. – Three special operations officers who have been at many hotspots, plus our guys. Why is he kicking against the pricks? They will make mincemeat of him here with a single stroke… A single stroke?!»

At that moment, an “excellent idea” came to Eugene’s mind. He decided to play a “noble knight” – to be the first one to attack Vano and knock him down to the ground with a simple hold, so that the priest would be insured from strokes of the other assailants and from corresponding possible “multiple injuries”. After all, it’s customary not to hit a man when he is down. Inspired with such an idea, Eugene took a fighting stand, displaying readiness with his entire appearance. Then, right off the bat, he jumped up to Vano striking a punch into his chest, being absolutely sure that the priest would be on the ground after it. Yet, nothing of the sort happened!

Father John was freely standing with one foot put forward. But, exactly at the moment of the stroke, his lean body quickly and easily moved aside like a plumelet blown by hurricane. Eugene’s crushing punch driven by the force of the guy’s over one-hundred-kilo weight passed by the priest’s chest at some several centimeters distance. At that very moment, Father John’s veins got unusually swelled, and Vano’s right hand flew out towards Eugene’s chest, like a bullet upon a gunshot, delivering a mighty open-palm counter-blow which resembled a bell stroke. Contrary to all laws of physics, the “noble knight’s” body was thrown from the priest’s bony hand at such a speed as if Eugene had full-pelt collided into a train making up for a 24-hour delay. Before the “noble knight” had time to touch the ground, the other fighters who had been previously standing with smirks on their faces, reacted to Vano’s attack immediately. Or rather, their brains reacted, having been prepared for various extreme situations during years of training. The subconscious evaluated the conditions and, having immediately blocked all emotions, switched on the self-defense instinct to secure their own safety.

Stas was on the right, closer to the priest than anyone else. Therefore, upon Vano’s demonstrative counter-attack, he promptly delivered a Mavashi kick. However, nearly at the same moment when Stas’ foot had just lost contact with the ground, Father John squatted and, with adroitness of a panther, made a heavy ankle trip on Stas’ pivot leg. Both guy’s legs flew up into the air, and he tumbled down on his back, though he immediately mechanically made a roll-over to a safe distance. Only thereafter Stas began to come to his sense and to evaluate what had just happened. Recovering from the heavy collapse, his body evidently wasn’t in a hurry to join the fight again. So, Stas had an opportunity to behold this grandiose sparring bout in all details. Eugene was just in the process of scrambling out of the near bushes, and his delighted eyes were also glued on the scene of the frail priest’s incredible transformation.

In the meantime, Vano was gracefully settling scores with the rest. His legs were showing up by turns in the middle of the general conglomeration of moving bodies. Following Stas, three of the fighters flew out of the general circle with a time difference of couple seconds, being by no means driven by their own intention to experience all the pleasures of such aerobatics.

Andrew adroitly managed to escape from the line of Vano’s attack couple times, but very likely because the attack was directed no at him specifically. Inspired with such an unreal hope for a possible victory, the guy conducted a violent attack. Snatching a moment when Vano’s face was remaining exposed, Andrew delivered a straight and mighty Mae Geri kick. Yet, the priest’s body immediately bent backward like a pendulum. Vano promptly hit the approaching foot up, thus having sharply accelerated its movement. And, instead of letting the guy who had lost his balance “quietly” land on his back, Vano stroke a kick into his buttocks in such a way that Andrew had sharply changed his flight trajectory from free-vertical to forced-horizontal, and flew to the bushes like a torpedo. Apparently, he had irritated the priest with his jumps and leaps too much.

During that demonstrative flight, without any mutual coordination, Kostya and Ruslan – the remaining fighters – quickly jumped aside from Father John, not intending to test their further destiny with similar sensations of weightlessness. Father John suddenly found himself on his own, so he turned round and beckoned these two:

“Please, be my guests...”

To which words they answered, smiling:

“No, thank you, father. We already made our communion in the morning…”

Such answer made everyone laugh and cleared the air conformably. The atmosphere get filled with indefatigable humor and good-natured jokes from the side of both Father John and those who had experienced the “God’s power” of the skinny priest on themselves. When all fighters had taken the vertical position and began to discuss their extremely fleeting fight admiringly, Father John robed his “camouflage” clothes back on. Joining the conversation, he instructively raised his finder to the sky and uttered significantly, “Now you see, kids, what powers the God’s faith and service to God give us…”

Then he smiled, cast a sidelong look at Sensei and added, “…Well, together with long years of friendship with Sensei, of course.”

The crowd responded with laughter again, recalling various curious incidents related to “long years of friendship with Sensei”.

After that case, Vano’s authority inside the company became still higher. It rose particularly and excessively in estimation of Eugene who endeavored to please the priest in every possible way after his unforgettable flight. He even helpfully offered to clean his SUV which already turned into “the most outstanding and practical car on our roads” on the guy’s lips. He said such a luxurious, splendid vehicle should not be dirty during the night when its owner slept inside it. I should better be brought into the proper brilliant and shining condition right away, and so it would be both pleasant to look at it and easier to breathe inside it. Father John did not particularly resist such “open-hearted” Eugene’s offer and silently, though with a cunning smile, handed him the keys.

First of all, Eugene moved the car to a new place, claiming the ground was flatter there while the river was not too close. After that, he took a bucket and hastily ran to take water, being accompanied with other guys’ jokes like “the priest’s footman”, “preparing to take monastic vows”, etc. But Eugene only smiled in response. He washed both the SUV exterior and interior with such thoroughness and care as if he had long ago dreamt of cleaning Father John’s vehicle.

* * *

The deepening gloaming had nearly changed into the night when the company finally calmed down after their Oriental combat passions. Having taken sits closer to the campfire after supper, everybody was extending pleasure, slowly drinking the sweet-scented herbal tea.

Light breeze was blowing. Stars were twinkling in the sky, loose. Warmth of the fire, freshness of invigorating piny air and a charming picture of the stars were creating a feeling which many people apparently experience when they escape from the civilized, smoky and mechanized box of the city to the freedom of animate nature. It was so pleasant to sit in such a quiet night, to talk easily and to glance now at the fire, then on the sparking sky.

“What a beauty!” Tatyana said looking up. “The stars are so bright, so attractive…”

He hardly had time to describe her impression, when Kostya wedged himself into her world of charms with his usual logical intelligence showing.

“This is because we are sitting close to water. Moreover, the city illumination is far from here. The air is rarefied. Therefore the stars are so bright.”

Andrew hemmed and couldn’t refrain from a sarcastic remark:

“You have such an amazing anatomy of thinking, pal! Should there by lieutenant Rzhevskiy with us, he would already fought a duel with you, kicking straight on your face. The lady is saying about stars to you, while you are responding about the rarefied air.”

The company burst out laughing. Kostya was assailed with jokes and anecdotes from every quarter, and he was hardly able to parry those with his favorite aphorisms, begetting still more laughing. In the end, failing to stand such a verbal pressure, the guy jokingly attacked Andrew who had been the “scandal” instigator.

“It’s always like this! As one French comedian said, ‘He has touched me all over! I’m only a target for his pointed arrows’.” Then, looking at his friend with reproach, he recited his pet poem which he usually used when he wanted to escape from a tickler, “I know, monsieur, how telltale you are. / Your head is chock-full with examples. / But isn’t it enough? Take care of yourself. / And give me away to my destiny.”