REMINISCENCES OF BABEL
397
happened: the day before his death, Cires went to see Senka Flop–
Ears.
8enka was shaving before a magnificent mirror in an ornate
frame. He squinted at Cires and said:
"So you've got yourself mixed up with a stranger, haven't you,
Mister Cires? Congratulations! And now, you know the new Soviet
law: if you come to see a man while he's shaving, state your busi–
ness quickly and beat it.
I
give you ten words to explain what brings
you here, like in the telegraph office. For every extra word, I'll
reduce your commission by two hundred thousand rubles."
"You were born, maybe, making such bad jokes, Senka?" Cires
said with a sugary smile. "Or maybe it came with practice? What
do you think?" ...
"Come on, tell me what you've come for, you old clown,"
Senka said, drawing
his
straight razor like a bow on an invisible
violin....
"Tomorrow, one p.m., at the Concordia Workshop. They'll
brin~
four billion."
"All right," Senka answered quietly, "you'll get your commis–
sion. Without deductions."
Cires ambled home. He didn't like the way Senka had behaved.
Normally Senka never joked when it came to serious business. At
home, he shared his apprehensions with Hava.
As
usual she shouted
at him:
"How long do you have to live, how long before you learn any
sense? Obviously Senka won't take that job: why should he get his
nose dirty for a measly four billion? And you'll make a bagle hole
with butter on it, at the most."
"What am
I
to do then?" Cires groaned wretchedly. "These
bandits will drive me crazy!"
"You just go and see Five-Rubles. That one may be interested
in
your phony billions. At least that way maybe you won't be left
with nothing, like a fool."
Old Cires put on his cap and dragged himself off to Five–
Rubles' place. The man was asleep in his little garden under a
white acacia tree.
Five-Rubles listened to what Cires had
to
say and answered
sleepily:
