18 Stories on the Train

* * *

He got off the train at the Baku station. Full ofjoy, he looked around and took a deep breath. Then he sat down on a bench nearby and thought. It was beginning to get dark. At this moment, a hand lay on his shoulder:

“Safar?!”

He turned around and tried to remember the person with a familiar face. Even if he didn't remember, at that moment he became one hundred percent convinced that he did the right thing to have returned to his homeland. A person would never get in trouble at home. There will always be someone you know, some relative, even a stranger who will reach out to you and help.

3

Jabrail-muallim and Bahlul-kishi are completely different people with completely opposing views. They are neighbors. Jabrail-muallim holds a high position, and Bahlul-kishi is a person who does not have a permanent job. And they are united by a single hobby: playing domino in their yard. Jabril-muallim sees this game as a filling for his leisure time, but for Bahlul-kishi it is a matter of life and death. He goes all out to make their team win and to cheer up Jabrail-muallim. Perhaps, he will get a favor as a result of this, and he will be able to get at least a simple job from his neighbor.

One day Jabrail-muallim suddenly suggested Bahlul-kishi going on vacation with their families. The latter was overcome with joy, thinking: this is a real chance to resolve the employment issue. But, as it turned out, it was not to happen.

A Clumsy Assistance

It was the last Friday of December. The residents of the five-story building were sitting in a self-built room arranged in the courtyard for various events and domino playing. People were waiting for their turn. It was very noisy. The losing pair left the game, giving way to another one. When someone made a wrong move, a clamor was heard. As a result of the squabble, the pieces of domino flew to the floor with such force that the noise from it could be heard in the nearest apartments. Everyone was equal here. No one was superior to any other. It could be a teacher, a scientist, even a simple worker – everyone was called “a neighbor.” They were united by the game of dominoes. In principle, they were not bad neighbors. They shared both their troubles and their joys, they helped each other.

It was hot in the room, even though it was December. A wooden stove was burning at one end, and a samovar was boiling at the other. Those who dropped out of the game, those who lost, were obliged to put hot tea in front of the players instead of the cooled ones.

When the turn came to Jabrail-muallim, who was the head of a company, the audience died down and the jokes stopped. After all, this person enjoyed high authority. Jabrail-muallim took his place and turned to his partner:

“Bahlul, my neighbor, please be careful, we must take revenge for the latest defeat.”

“Yessir,” said Bahlul-kishi, who was recently hired as a watchman in the yard market. The Jabrail-Bahlul pair was considered the strongest in the quarter. Both were graduates of the University of Economics and were good at calculating moves, as well as guessing the result of the game. The first round passed at quite a pace. They won and took revenge for their previous defeat, but were unlucky in the next round. They hardly sat down when they had to get up again.

The passions were burning. No one cared about tea anymore. Upset, Jabrail left the room. “Damn it, what an awful thing to happen,” Bahlul thought to himself and went out, following his neighbor. He had to solve his problem somehow. Having caught up with his neighbor, he began to apologize:

“Excuse me, for god's sake, I tried my best. We were unlucky somehow…”

“Take it easy, you lose once, you win later,” the neighbor tried to calm him down. These words made Bahlul-kishi cheer up, so he decided to move on:

“Jabrail-muallim, you promised to give me a suitable job if the opportunity arises.”

“I remember, neighbor,” Jabrail-muallim replied. “There’s no vacancy yet. Have some patience. I am a responsible person. If I promised something, I’ll do it.”

“I know, brother. Heaven bless you,” said Bahlul-kishi, expressing his gratitude. It was cold outside. Bahlul-kishi decided not to hold back his neighbor, said goodbye and thought to leave. Seeing this, Jabrail-muallim, apparently remembering about something, turned to his neighbor:

“Neighbor, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Why are you asking, dear? I can ask my son to watch over the market for me. I'm at your service.”

“There’s no service. I haven’t travelled for a long time, I want to go on vacation to Kechresh, Quba, with my wife tomorrow. If you want, you can join us. Take your wife too. It will be more fun having a company.”

Bahlul-kishi was very happy with the proposal of his neighbor. To be honest, he did not expect it and considered it an honor to set out on the road with such a respected person, so he was quick to agree:

“With great pleasure. But I want to ask you for something. Just don't be offended, please.”

“I am listening.”

“I’ll pay my expenses.”

“Come on, what kind of expense are you talking about?” said Jabrail- muallim. Bahlul-kishi answered quickly:

“No. Please, don’t say so. I have to spend money as well, otherwise I will feel myself uncomfortable.”

At 9 am, both neighbors stood at their respective entrance doors with their bags and spouses. Despite the insistence of Jabrail-muallim, Bahlul-kishi did not agree to get into his new Jeep. “I cannot be so impudent,” he thought to himself and turned to Jabrail-muallim:

“Don’t you worry, neighbor. We don’t need to go far after all. Let everyone use their own car. It will be more spacious this way. And then, my Zhiguli needs a test drive as well. I have never traveled out of town on it.”

Jabrail-muallim was not a fan of high-speed driving. He always said, “The quieter you drive, the further you get.” This characteristic was beneficial for Bahlul-kishi, since his car was old, but at the same time reliable, having never let his owner down on the way. Bahlul asked God to make sure that nothing happened to his car on the road. This might annoy Jabrail-muallim.

They reached Kechresh. Then they went to the Ulduz hotel, located on a mountain covered with forest.

The hotel staff went out to meet them. Jabrail-muallim greeted them by shaking hands:

“How are you, daredevils?”

“Thanks, dear,” the guy who stood in front of everyone said. “Everything’s ok, your rooms are ready.”

Bahlul-kishi realized that Jabrail-muallim had called and booked rooms before leaving.

In the hotel, the two good neighbors were also located next door. But the difference was that in the city they lived opposite each other, but here they lived side by side. Each family had their own room. About an hour later, Jabrail-muallim went out into the corridor and quietly knocked on the door of Bahlul-kishi. The latter, as if standing just behind the door, waiting, immediately looked out.

“What can I do for you, dear?” he asked.

“It’s time for lunch, neighbor, let’s go eat. The shashlik is great here,” Jabrail- muallim said.

“I swear by Allah, brother, I am not hungry,” Bahlul-kishi answered immediately. “In the morning we left the house in a hurry and did not have time to have breakfast, so when we arrived, we began to eat immediately. Feel free to go and dine. Bon appetite.”

Jabrail-muallim began to object:

“What are you saying? Listen, we don’t eat shashlik every day, do we? Get ready, let's go. This one’s on me.”

“Don’t insist, neighbor. We are not hungry. Otherwise, we would surely accompany you.”

* * *

Although it didn't snow, it was still cold. Jabrail-muallim and his wife were sitting in the spacious, bright salon of the restaurant near the hotel and having lunch. The couple chirped about something sweetly, while contemplating the landscape.

Jabrail-muallim was a busy man, and as such, he rarely could find the time to leave the city and somehow relax. This means that he was greatly enjoying his trip. He took a break from the bustle of the city and felt relieved. He decided to go with Bahlul-kishi thinking that he would have someone to talk to when bored. But he could not imagine that his neighbor would show his stubborn character. Such a person is not good for a company. At the moment, his role was assumed by Laman – the wife of Jabrail-muallim.

Only the devil knows what Bahlul-kishi and his wife were doing back there in the room. They never opened their door until evening, and never left the room. When it was time for dinner, Jabrail-muallim knocked on his neighbors’ door again. Less than a couple of seconds later, Bahlul-kishi already opened the door:

“Please, brother, come in. Welcome.”

“Thanks. That’s not what I came for. You two did not leave the room today. I thought I’d ask what was happening.”

“Nothing special, we’re just chatting here, me and my wife,” Bahlul- kishi replied.