his hip painfully on the jamb of the bathroom. – Well so-and-so! I’ll gather all the corners today, for the umpteenth time… – and the ant scratched the bruised place. And then a snippet from today’s short dream surfaced, like an Ave athlete, Ave, who had never once got up on skis, flies recklessly, rushes from a huge pink-sunset snow mountain on magical skiing, and like a real slalom player deftly dodges obstacles: right-left, right-left. Bright rainbow golden frosty evening adds a gambling mood. Diamond spiky snow flies with tiny pollen into a happy bespectacled muzzle, and the man is infinitely happy from winter walking entertainment. Solemn music sounds… it looks like our anthem…
In my beloved kitchen, the alarm clock hinted twice, notifying me of the minute readiness for the start of Sunday breakfast.
“Everything passes, as always – clearly on schedule! But keeping to the schedule is a direct guarantee of success! We are just well done! One must always reassure oneself, and if one does not cheer oneself up, what will happen? There will be nothing special, just hardly anyone will do it for you. So, we are the real youths! We work and smile! Without the right attitude there are no labor successes!”
Cheerful Ave turned on the TV for a minute or two to watch the weather forecast for the day on the AA-News channel.
– Guys, hear? The weather positively pleases us with its sixteen, and the sky promised a clear, without rain, no wind, well, or almost none! Real summer is on the street! – Ave commented on the forecast so that Ski and Rond could hear it. – So, we can safely say the words from the famous song: “The sun shines in the morning – that means the day will succeed!”
Two peppy comrades, having finished the morning warm-up, threw weighty dumbbells under the sofas, and one after another they jumped again into the bathroom for literally five seconds – pouring ice-cold water on their belts. At that time, Ave meekly sat at the kitchen table and dreamily filled the mugs with tea, a well-cooked hypericum, and the guys, already dressed in dark blue shirts and trousers, appeared together on the threshold of the kitchen.
Chapter 6
WHITE
The service factory bus departed from the house where the ants lived on a Sunday schedule, at seven-fifteen, punctually according to a strictly time-honored schedule, since along the way it was necessary to go around several more points in order to “load” all the working people. Our comrades just had enough time to spare, a toe to toe to get into funny striped black and white overalls from comfortable and very thin, but durable raincoats, designed for painting work, in which they looked like hilarious exotic zebras, and go down to high-speed elevator to the first floor.
Ski, already dressed in colorful attire, humorously portrayed an impatient horse waiting, – mischievously and sweepingly hit the imagined hoof on the floor. He opened the door wide open, and, with a friendly wave of his left foot on Ave’s goodbye, the other pressed the red button for calling the elevator several times. The doors of the lifting device swung open silently, and at the same second Rond jumped out of the apartment, fastening the last button on the move. It was obscured in the half-darkness of the elevator, where there were already a dozen of the same striped ants like them.
– Have a good leap for you today, zebras! Victory at the races! – Cheerfully chased after Av, but it was too late, the elevator doors closed. He decided then to cheer himself up and sang aloud. – Go-o-o to work! Go-go-o-o! There are forces, and we will overcome everything without problems!
He bounced high on one leg, then on the other, shaking zero the last, stuck in a passing consciousness, invisible drops of sleep and, turning around, continued his housework. The duties of the duty officer on Wednesday and Sunday included: a trip for life-giving nectar, the release of accumulated garbage, a shopping tour to the supermarket for groceries and a number of household chores.
Ave never wondered what he liked more: housekeeping or working in a factory. The most important thing is the work that is beneficial. For Ski and Ronda, there was no difference either, the cult of working with the Damocles sword hung over all ants, imperceptibly, subconsciously. They could not help but work, and plowed tirelessly almost around the clock, on a small condition: if only they were given time for short lunch breaks. And no matter what they do: they worked on the assembly line or washed clothes, raised domestic animals or harvested, cleaned the house or cooked food, any useful activity nurtured an ever new and indefatigable desire for work in them. It was a kind of sophisticated drug, more and more dragging red-haired creatures into its nets. Why and for whom did they work?
Such a difficult question fell apart into tiny particles at lightning speed. Each working individual had to work according to the law of the Charter, rather dryly and bluntly. That’s the whole explanation! For the sake of the common good! Once, trying to break away from the general labor service of ants and openly taking an interest in the one about the purpose, actually, and for whose good he should bend his back, four other ants unanimously picked up and carried him to Legal inspection. The next sunny day, the questioning ant did not appear at his workplace, which, apparently, he was tired of. “You do not want to work conscientiously, do not work, but do not bother others, do not lead them astray!” Some individuals tried to understand what strange thoughts they visited the new rebel, but did not come to any logical conclusions and decided that perhaps he was crazy at the age of forty, nobody remembered his name, and so he remained in his memory all “lazy ant.”
Joyful Ave slammed the front door and returned back to the kitchen. First, he had a simple job – to wash the dishes, and then wash the overalls. The main burden on the kitchen battlefield was on the shoulders of the electronics: the dishwasher, which Ave loved more than other devices, suddenly “conceived” and broke down last night, and the service mechanic called by Rond was due to arrive at nine. There was more than an hour before the repairman arrived, but Ave could not sit idle and decided to wash the dishes with his paws. This has already happened sometimes, in the memory of Ave, three or four times, when the automatic friends were lazy and refused to help, simulating a breakdown. Three years ago, after frequent technical failures of the notorious “dishwashers” in many condominium apartments, it was decided to replace all models with completely new modernized cars. The warranty period of the new project was at least five years, but still the equipment could not withstand the hard work and sometimes “fell asleep on the go.”
Hastily finished washing the dishes, the ant planned to take up the washing of work clothes, which remained after a hard week, but, before it even started, the washing process was interrupted by two short doorbells.
“Maybe it’s already a mechanic?” Ave thought, and quickly headed for the door.
Out of the corridor, out of habit, he glanced at his watch; it politely shone half past eight.
“It’s strange… for the mechanic it’s a bit early! Although, anything happens!”
The front door swung open wide, with a squeal of whistling, and on the threshold an ant materialized in a brand new, still plainly ironed and slightly giving off irritating mothballs red-green uniform. His wide trousers-trousers reminded Ave of some kind of rascal joke heard recently on TV, and he involuntarily swam in a smile, but immediately stopped, and froze on a half-screwed ironic note. Through a light leather cap with a voluminous and indecently bulging plastic cockade, on which flaunted an openwork letter “P”, neatly mounted on his head, peered long tarry antennae with a light fluff. Without saying anything, the calling postman energetically handed the landlord a tiny little cylinder.
– What is it? What is it? – Ave burst out twice, and the half-smile completely disappeared. – Who is it?
– It
