Peary



  Peary

  Andrzej Galicki

  © Copyright 2013 Andrzej Galicki

  All rights reserved

  Peary

  Peary was hanging around on the couch, unable to sleep at all. Why on the couch? Because he landed there every time, after coming home later than usual, under the influence of the famous alcoholic beverage traditionally called Polish Vodka. Never in these cases could he understand why his wife, Danusia, prepared sheets for him on the couch in the dining room, as if he was only a guest in his own home rather than a legally rightful citizen of this country, living at this address, and officially registered as the chief resident in the administrative office.

  "But it's only the vodka" tried he not only once to explain his logic to his wife.

  "Our old Polish national drink, produced in our beloved homeland for centuries and centuries and consumed in Polish cottages of our ancestors traditionally and with respect."

  This, however, Danusia could not grasp with her uncomplicated woman’s brains. She never was able to understand, that when Peary met on his way John, or Steve, or any other dude from his old bachelor days, there was just no chance not to walk into the bar and not celebrate such a meeting. Boys are boys, and Danusia should have been able to get it by now. After all, had she decided to marry a real man, or a sissy boy?

  These kind of thoughts rattled in Peary’s head and did not let him sleep in peace, and some bloody spring protruding from the worn-out couch leftover by his in-laws pierced his side with every movement he made, making his situation even more deplorable.

  Peary was so deeply moved by his own destiny, that he could almost cry over his misery, but he refrained, poor man, since it is known that men do not cry, so he also would not be a wimp.

  Then maybe for half an hour he twisted and twisted until suddenly something caught his attention. That something was a smell. The gentle hint of a strange smell reached his nose. He did not remember ever smelling something like this before, it did not belong to the variety of odors that usually pervaded their apartment, this was certainly a new smell and Peary had some difficulty explaining the way it could get here in spite of closed doors and windows. It was a strange smell, subtle, barely perceptible properly, delectable to the nose and stimulating the senses, a smell with a hint of sweet and spicy mixed with the delicate fragrance of flowers unknown to him, a fragrance so seducing that Peary could go out and walk after it with his eyes closed and he would never have enough of it or ever be bored by its scent.

  Peary opened his eyes. Two of them sat in a chair facing the window, and the moonlight shining into the room shone clearly on their lovely faces and ethereal silhouettes shrouded in a sort of muslin, through which were vaguely outlined the contours of their immaculate beautiful bodies.

  - Who are youu, booth of youu? – Peary somehow managed to stammer.

  - And how many of us do you see now? – He heard a melodious voice.

  - Two - he said.

  - Close one eye - the command fell.

  Peary closed his left eye - and there was only one lady in the chair. He repeated the experiment with the other eye - the result was similar.

  - As you can see, I am alone, and you have not sobered yet. Your wife was right to not let you go into the bedroom. I also would not let you in, seeing double and smelling like a hog with your booze and beer.

  Peary meanwhile, tried to direct his glance to the slight opening of the delicate cloth between the knees of the unusual phenomenon. She must have noticed it, because she slid her feet closer together and seemed to blush.

  - What about my wife? - Peary asked, looking up a little higher. - As I am looking at you, I’m getting bored with my wife. It would be a fun to switch you both, you also could like it.

  The charming person smiled, the corners of her sweetly tailored lips darting upwards, and she improved her hair.

  - It seems to me that you have also started to bore your wife. Today, even I had seen her in a cafe with a guy who did not look like you.

  - What were they doing? - inquired Peary, suddenly worried.

  - What do people do in a cafe? They drink coffee. But you know what may start from regular coffee. You can lose control, Peary. By the way, why do they call you Peary?

  - Just a nickname. My family name is Pearson. It started back in school and stuck for good. But you still have not answered my question. Who are you?

  - What do you think I am? Is it so hard to guess?

  - Absolutely - Peary’s head had been idle for too long that it was no longer working enough to be able to guess anything.

  - Well, look at me. What do I have on my shoulders?

  - Something like small wings.

  - Well, is the word nymph known to you somehow?

  - Not really. It seems to me there is a night club in Warsaw with this name, that's all I know.

  She was clearly disappointed with him.

  - Something was probably wrong with the program - she said. - I have no idea why the computer has chosen you. Ignorant and sot. Couldn’t it have found anyone better?

  - Better for what?

  The nymph sighed with resignation.

  - I see that I have to explain everything. Well, recent statistics have shown that the quantity of nymphs and elves did not increase in proportion to the increase of earthy population. To fix the situation it was decided to increase our number by volunteers selected from among the people. And that you have been chosen to volunteer by our new computer which never is wrong to be an elf, I hope you're happy.

  Peary stared at her, his eyes still seemingly unconscious.

  - That means, what should I do?

  - It depends. You can do the same as what the elves do. You can play a bad trick on some bad people to lead them down the right way, sometimes warn them against the hail, or against the police raid on an illegal moonshine shop, find children lost in the woods, and various other works, sometimes good, sometimes less good, but always fun.

  - But why was I chosen to volunteer?

  - I do not know the exact criteria, but I think that because of your little benefit to the humain society. Sot, gambler and smoker, your own wife closed for you the bedroom door, I think that was it. No one will regret when you are gone. But among us you will change. You'll go through such a school that you’ll become another man... I mean elf. You will not regret it.

  - Where do they live, the elves?

  - Various places, between the mosses and flowers in some old, abandoned orchards, in the backwaters of the river ...

  - And what do they drink, those elves? - Peary asked suddenly. Happily, it occurred to him so basic a question.

  - What do they drink? Well ... As always: the birch sap, morning dew, sometimes fresh milk from the morning cow milking. Just imagine, the countrywoman turns around, looks, and here half of the milk from her bucket is missing. What a fun, I tell you, you will never be bored.

  At the thought of having only hot milk from the morning milking, Perry suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

  - Elf and Nymph, they are not like husband and wife? - Peary tried to make sure, still glancing at the contours of this immaculately beautiful silhouette obscured only by ethereal muslin.

  - Well not quite, but let it be if it will help you to understand something.

  - So I would have you two?

  - Close one eye.

  Peary closed it.

  - I am alone, you see? Have you forgotten? So what? You agree to be an elf? I cannot sit here all night.

  - You know what? - Peary wondered. - Maybe it's a good idea, but it worries me greatly that stuff you drink, you know, the water from the leaves, especially milk from the cow. For me at the moment, I am dreaming about a big mug of beer. And about the one with not t
oo much foam and a lot of beer. I would agree to anything just for a good pint, so dry am I. Do you understand me? Maybe you could conjure it for me?

  The nymph hesitated.

  - Actually, why not? - she said after some thought. - You're not one of us yet.

  She tapped the table with a magic wand that suddenly appeared in her beautiful hand and Peary was amazed as he saw a big mug full of beer that materialized suddenly on the coffee table within range of his fingertips. He caught the cold handle quickly and began to drink greedily until his stomach was happy.

  He drank about half of his beer then put the mug on the table with a loud gasp. What a delight. He had not felt such satisfaction in a long time.

  - Well, how about our deal? - demanded the nymph. Seeing how Peary was looking at her thighs, she pulled her so obscenely short and transparent outfit up even higher.

  Peary’s eyes widened more than ever.

  - You know what? - he said, licking his lips lasciviously. - So I think that with such a chick like you one could do some tricks, but I'm not a dope, a cat in a bag I'm not buying. If you lie down here beside me, for fifteen minutes, then I might be convinced. Just by seeing only, man cannot know for sure.

  The nymph looked at him indignantly.

  - What do you think, you sot? That I go to bed with anyone who bends his finger at me? Just forget it, knock it out of your drunk head.

  - Not at all, not with anyone - bridled Peary. - Warsaw guy I am, born in Powisle, and it obligates. And besides, do not forget that your computer has chosen me. It was not my computer. If you do not like it, so leave me alone. I do not need to be an elf.

  This time, the nymph wondered longer than before. Finally she gave up.

  - About the computer, you're right - she said. - I do not know who arranged this program. It would be difficult to find someone who’s more boor then you. But with us, you’ll get such a taming that the barrel of your gun will soften a lot.

  - Let's see - Peary said. So far, his barrel did not soften at all and he encouragingly threw off the covers.

  - But only for a minute - she reserved.

  - Ten.

  - Five, or not at all. That’s as long as I can hold on without breathing.

  - Let it be - sighed Peary. - It's better than nothing.

  Delicate as a feather, she slipped under the covers, pinching her neat nose, and the greedy paws of Peary immediately began some research, for a time was at this moment as precious as gold.

  Peary found himself in such a wonderful garden of delight. He had not experienced such wonder until this time in his life. His sticky fingers visited the enchanted land of extraordinary experiences, and his red-hot imagination conveyed to his brain the wonders hidden under the covers.

  Suddenly, he stiffened in surprise like a telephone pole, and clearing the lump in his throat, he brought out one huge question:

  - And where do you have it?

  - What? - Asked the nymph, equally surprised.

  - Well, what Danusia has and the other girls also ...

  - Oh, that ... We do not have it, the nymphs don’t need that.

  - Do not have? - Peary was completely out of words. - It's ... it's… how do you... This ...

  - You mean sex? Such an ordinary, gross physical sex? Just like the people? We do not need it at all. It is completely disgusting and unnecessary for reproduction.

  Peary tried to put together the thoughts that had suddenly scattered in all directions like hares before the hunt.

  - Unnecessary? - He finally blurted out - and this fucking milk from the cow as a drink?

  He jumped like a shot from under the covers, and the nymph watched him closely.

  - So what? - she asked - We go? I complied with the conditions. It's your turn now.

  Peary rushed towards the door of his marital bedroom. Then he began banging on it with both his fists and cried out:

  - Save me Danusia! Save me! Forgive your erring husband!

  He heard through the door a creak of springs from their marriage bed and the sleepy voice of his wife.

  - Sleep, you drunk, you'll wake up all the neighbors!

  Peary turned in resignation and leaned against the back of the door. The room was empty.