Gullible Mikey. Chapter 3

GULLIBLE MIKEY

On the following morning it turned out that Chika's alcohol had not cured the headache at all, it only relieved the symptoms for a while. Cardan was not functioning adequately. Some urgent action needed to be taken. "That really was a bit too much booze yesterday," Cardan thought painfully. "You have to keep on spinning!" his inner voice urged him. He got to his feet, his head was throbbing. After drinking a mug of cold water and washing his face, he went to look for another gullible simpleton.

Meanwhile, Michael, called Mikey, was speaking to a self-taught TV repairman called Miner. This IT specialist moved from Donbass to our region, where he had worked in the coal mining industry. That is why he had such a nickname.
“Come on, show me your TV set,” Miner said, holding a tool bag with a flashy display.
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“Come in, over there, in the corner,” Mikey pointed at an old TV set. Make yourself at home. Do you need anything?”
“Nothing yet.”

The Miner opened the back cover of the TV set and began checking the printed circuits with a tester.
“Yes-yes. Not here, not here, uhu-uhu-uhu-uhu,” he muttered into his nose. “Well, well, well, everything is clear to me now: it's not here either uhu-uhu-uhu-uhu. So, we checked over here, now let's go over there. So, what do we have here this time? It's absolutely obvious that it's not here, uhu-uhu-uhu-uhu.”
It might have elapsed half an hour, or even an hour or two; Mikey lost track of time. Miner's words started sounding unconvincingly, totally without rhyme or reason. Wild horses could not seem to drag Miner away from his work. Finally, Mikey could not take it any longer and broke the ice, “Maybe we'll have a drink now?”
“Do you have something?” Miner wondered incredulously.
“Yes, I do.” Mikey hit the nail on the head.
“OK, you've broken me down.”
One shot, two shots, three shots and the bottle got empty.
“You know, I need to go home. I'll come back tomorrow to give it a finishing touch.”
“With all due respect, I'd rather you didn't. I'll take it to a town TV repair shop. There`s a very serious breakdown, I think. I am sure it can be fixed only there.”
“Even if I couldn't detect a faulty part, then you'll definitely need to take it to the TV repair shop,” Miner agreed.

Mikey led Miner to the street, said goodbye to him and lit a cigarette. The scorching sun shone mercilessly at his head, forcing him to urgently find a cool place. Mikey moved closer to the fence and, squatting down, found shelter from the unbearable heat in its shade. "And how could I trust such a woeful repairman? He turned out to be so smooth with his talk, which must've led me astray: "I! I! I! I can fix any TV set"... It's a reward for my gullibility. Trust everyone but cut the cards," Mikey`s head was boiling with bitter thoughts.
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Up ahead in the distance a man's silhouette appeared, who was approaching him in a confident gait. In a minute or two it was already possible to discern in him a cheerfully inspired face of Cardan. Greeting Mikey, Cardan struck up an amicable conversation, “What are you doing here? Are you hiding from the scorching sun?”
“Yes, It`s too hot today. Guess what,” started Mikey dejectedly, “Miner came up to me to fix a TV set, spent two hours, trying to identify the problem but couldn't do anything about it."

“If you asked me, you shouldn't have trusted him. He is an awful repairman, let alone he is a liar. He hasn't been able to fix a single television successfully yet. He just drops by villager's houses, bragging about his technical expertise. Fumbles with electrical appliances until someone treats him to a drink and a meal, only then he goes home."

“I got in a similar situation. I wish I had never asked him for help. Anyway, thanks for the heads-up. Or else I would run into trouble with him again. I've got a terrible headache because of him now.”

"You ought to be more careful in your choice of people you deal with. Look, don't beat yourself up about it, OK. My head is also heavy after yesterday`s party,” Cardan smoothly brought the conversation to another topic.
Mikey had a sense that he was giving him his undivided attention.

“Listen, Cardan, I`ll give you some money now. You`ll nip to the shop and buy a bottle of vodka. We`ll have a drink and mull it over.” Mikey wanted to complain to a sympathetic man and to make a clean breast of the pent-up indignation.

“Great idea. You literally read my mind. If you give me the money, I'll be back in half an hour."
“Perfect. While you`re away, I'll make some chips.”
There was no such willpower that was able to disguise the excitement in Mikey's eyes as if he was about to have the time of his life. His mind was overwhelmed with the expectation of upcoming fun. "Don't waste your time by talking to anyone on the way. Buy vodka and come running back. Come on! Get a move on!"
 
"Give me a break. I'm not as unreliable as Miner. I'll never let you down. I'll pull it off in a blink of an eye."

Cardan left to buy alcohol and Mikey zealously went about making a snack. He peeled some potatoes, heated a frying pan, splashed a little sunflower oil into it. Sizzles! Wow, yummy! It made his mouth water. "Maybe one bottle is not enough?” a thought flashed in Mikey`s head. “It's obvious that with such a snack, we`ll probably be able to finish off even a liter of vodka. I was definitely wrong. I should`ve given him more money."
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The smell of frying potatoes spread around the kitchen. Cardan will come any minute soon, I need to get a move on. Mikey took out cucumbers and tomatoes from the fridge, cut them into slices, added an onion, sprinkled it with some salt and seasoned it with sunflower oil. Then he put the salad and chips on the table and sliced some bread - the snack was ready. He sat down on a chair and began admiring the dishes cooked by him. For a complete set only vodka was lacking. "Cardan will be back now," joyful thoughts filled Mikey`s head with delight. Although half an hour had already elapsed, Cardan was not back yet. Mikey went out into the street and began to peer into the distance - no one. He started twiddling his thumbs impatiently. Then he sat down vehemently. Got up. Paced up and down the street in front of his house. But Cardan was not likely to show up any time soon. An hour passed by, then another. There was still no sign of him. "Goodness, where is he?" Mikey mumbled plaintively. The situation was getting out of hand. He could not believe that Cardan didn't keep his end of the bargain and tricked him so cruelly.

"I didn't see that coming," he thought.  The realization of his mistake began to sink in. It started nagging at him with increased intensity.
"What am I supposed to do?" he murmured wretchedly.

Finally, his patience has run out. Mikey got bent out of shape with annoyance. "I won't allow anyone to play games with me," he squeaked and quickly started down the street in search of Cardan. After a short while, Mikey ran into him. He was walking home drunk and singing,
“Love me, do not love me;
I'm still young, after all.
Time will come - you`ll fall in love with me,
But, darling, It will be too late.”

Mikey lost his temper. He got enraged with a fury and rushed for his prey like a rapacious predator with all his might.
“So, there you are! Where's the bottle? Where's the money? You`re a swindler, you've decided to make a fool out of me?!”
Cardan realized that he would be beaten and went towards the approaching aggressor, hopelessly grasping at straws. Falling to his knees he embraced Mikey's legs with his arms and began to exclaim plaintively, "Oh, my dearest, oh, my nearest Misha! Oh, my little one!" I'll give it back! I'll give it back! I'll work it out - I will! Sorry! Sorry! I had a horrible headache! I could not resist the temptation!
I'll give it back! I will give everything back to you! I did it inadvertently! I'll make it up to a penny!”
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Never had Mikey been so infuriated, nor had he ever been begged for mercy so pathetically. His heart was crushed. Anger, like melting snow, dripping from a warm hand, changed it`s physical state. Compassion and pity gripped his heart. It was clear to  him that Cardan did it against his will. His conscience was as clean as a whistle. His intentions were completely different: they were good. It must've been the devil's work.
“Well, let's cut it to the chase. When will you give it back?” He demanded soothingly.
"Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I will make up for everything!”

As luck would have it, things got messed up and Cardan did not pay off his debt neither the next day, nor any another one... Mikey could not wrap his head around it. There was something weird about him that he was not capable to comprehend. He had an inkling that it was in the cards and there was nothing he could do about it. All of a sudden it came to him as a revelation. He clearly realized that his credulity to people had failed him ferociously. At first he refused to face the obvious, but slowly, grudgingly he accepted his fate. He sighed desperately and whispered angrily through his clenched teeth, like a dog with the tail between its legs, after being given a kick, "Story of my life! I didn't even anticipate that Cardan would turn out such a creep. Oh, that frigging swindler! He won't get away so easily next time! That's for sure!"
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