The Irony of Fate 2

The Irony of Fate 2, or How I Met the New Year

Alexandr Piatkov


After downing some champagne and helping myself to Olivier salad, I stepped out

into the yard and proceeded to light a firework—except I did it from the wrong

end. There was a loud bang right in my hands.


When I came to, I was fully wrapped in bandages and hooked up to an IV drip. Just

then, nature called, and desperately so. Unplugging the tube from the IV, I

clamped the needle in my forearm with a finger and rushed off to find a restroom.

My instincts didn’t fail me; even with my eyes practically bandaged shut, I made

it just in time!


Inspired and greatly relieved, I returned to the ward, only to immediately

receive a rubber baton strike across my back and find myself handcuffed to the

bed. Granted, it wasn’t for long. A few minutes later, another patient with a

heavily bandaged head was brought in. They unhitched me from the bed, cuffed him

instead, and ordered me to stop wandering around and stay out of sight.


In a semi-conscious daze, I finally staggered back to my actual ward. It looked

like a fresh IV stand had already been brought in, so I had no choice but to hook

the tube back to the needle still stuck in my arm. The medication kicked in

instantly and powerfully, plunging me into a deep, solid sleep. But my rest was

short-lived. A lady started shaking me awake, demanding to know who I was and

what I was doing there. I told her I was Andrey Myagkov—the lead actor from the

famous Soviet movie—and that I simply lived there!


My personal "Barbara Brylska" snapped back that she was in no mood for jokes,

insisting the bed was hers and demanding I clear out immediately. I began arguing

that the bed was mine, and as proof, I suggested she open the nightstand to see

my oranges inside. Lo and behold, the oranges were right there!


While the lady went to fetch the nurse on duty, I drifted back into a deep sleep,

but she soon woke me up again. She hadn't found the nurse, but she had discovered

a men’s ward down the hall with one empty bed, and she assumed that’s where I

belonged.


Honestly, I didn’t care where I slept, and since the IV bag was empty anyway, I

pulled the needle out, stumbled over to the designated ward, and fell into a dead

sleep. I woke up from a terrifying, bone-chilling cold; my teeth were chattering

uncontrollably. I couldn’t even lift my head because my bandages had frozen solid

to the metal table I was lying on. Naturally, I was stark naked, and a plastic

toe tag was tied around my big toe!


If finding a nurse on New Year's Eve was impossible, expecting an attendant in

such a grim department would be the height of naivety. But lo and behold, a

miracle occurred—the door was unlocked! My luck knew no bounds: a wardrobe by the

door held a perfectly decent coat and hat. I threw them on and peeked into the

corridor.


A dim lightbulb economically illuminated this final journey—though, as it turned

out, not final for everyone. I headed toward the exit, but suddenly heard

footsteps and the booming laughter of a cheerful group of men. I was caught by

what must have been hospital orderlies celebrating the New Year. One of them

slapped my shoulder and demandingly asked where on earth I’d been wandering off

to.


They grabbed me by both arms and dragged me along. I assumed they were taking me

back to my ward, but fate turned out to be even kinder. A few minutes later,

peeling back the bandages on my face, I was attempting to gulp down barely

diluted rubbing alcohol to the horse-like roaring laughter of the company, who

found my "mummy" disguise incredibly hilarious. The fact that I was missing

pants didn't bother anyone—in fact, I don't think they even noticed!


Next time I came around, my mouth was parched bone-dry. Unable to open my eyes, I

simply sniffed the air. Surprisingly, it didn't smell of hospital disinfectant,

but of a completely real, natural Christmas tree! My hand suddenly brushed

against a warm female thigh—a sensation impossible to mistake. She murmured

sleepily, "Go back to sleep..."


No way. Even if Cleopatra herself were lying next to me, I still would have

preferred a glass of tap water over anything else! So, I walked into the kitchen,

automatically acting as if I had just gotten off my own couch at home. The

experiment worked, and ice-cold water poured from the tap. My eyes finally flew

open. I really was in a kitchen; it somewhat resembled mine, but only very

vaguely.


I was wearing someone else's trousers, and that was my entire outfit. Stepping

into the hallway, I spotted the now-familiar coat and hat, and beneath them, a

pair of huge, worn-out felt boots with rubber overshoes. "Time to make a run for

it," the thought struck me like lightning.


On that sleepy morning of January 1st, without encountering a single passerby, I

successfully crossed half the city and reached my house. I rang the doorbell, and

five minutes later, I was standing under a hot shower—though, unlike Hippolyte

from the movie, I at least had the sense to take off my coat and hat!




Translated from Russian into English by AI
Original text by Alexandr Piatkov
Title: The Irony of Fate 2, or How I Met the New Year
Copyright: © Александр Пятков, 2014
Author's Name: Alexandr Piatkov
Publication Certificate: №214011300042
Platform: Adapted for publication on proza.ru
Source Language: Russian