the microphone, pulled on headphones, and began, “And good morning to you, my darlings! DJ Aspirin is with you this morning, and that means that your boring hours at the office, in front of the monitor, behind the wheel, behind the desk, or any other place you consider your working space just became a little bit less gray, a little more colorful because with you, right here, right now, is Radio Sweetheart! Radio Sweetheart reaches out with its soft paw, touches your ears, and here you are—at the top of the hour, our next artist assures you that everything will be just peachy.”
He turned off his mic and received a stream of invectives from his producer. He asked for a cup of coffee. To the producer he said, unnecessarily, “Oh, Julia, if you only knew what happened to me.”
To Julia’s rather logical inquiry about what exactly happened, he only sighed heavily and said nothing.
Some time had passed. Pop music played. Young’uns called and asked for more pop music. Aspirin ate sandwiches, drank coffee, and thought about pop music taking over, even the young people, and that tonight Kuklabuck was hosting an interesting band that was riding the hip-hop wave and doing it well. Those guys had recorded two videos, but had no chance of making it on television, because pop music had taken over . . . and his thoughts went around and around like this.
By the end of the fourth hour, he’d forgotten about the girl and about his own problems. He no longer thought of anything at all. Words poured out of him like sweetened water.
“Inna, your first question!”
“Is it a male or a female?”
“Bravo! You must have a degree in linguistics! It is neuter.”
“Does it exist at home or outside?”
“Both—it can be found at home or outside. Anything else?”
“Is it soft or hard?”
“Hmm . . . that depends. It can be hard. But not too hard. It can be cut with a knife.”
“Is it animate or inanimate?”
“Oooh, Inna! How would you cut something animate with a knife? Let’s say it used to be animate, but now it is not. What else?”
“Is it standing or lying down?”
“Usually it’s lying down.”
A pause filled with heavy breathing.
“Inna, your time is almost up, and all of us are waiting for your answer. If you guess right, you will be going to the movies tonight—two tickets are waiting for you. Only a few seconds left . . . Here comes the signal! Time’s up! So what is it that I was thinking about?”
“A bench?” the invisible Inna suggested.
Even his ever-patient producer rolled her eyes.
“Well,” Aspirin said. “Inna, I do believe you’ve earned those tickets. We care about the effort, not the results. Besides, you know the word ‘inanimate,’ and that’s impressive all on its own. I was thinking of bacon, bacon was my word, simple, oh so simple. Stay on the line, so we can tell you how to claim your prize!”
It was time for the weather report. It promised thunderstorms and torrential downpours. After the weather report there would be a five-minute ad block, which meant Aspirin had time for a quick cigarette with his coffee.
In his shirt pocket, his cell phone twitched and played the theme from Star Wars.
“Aspirin, for God’s sake! Is your phone not on mute?”
“Julia, easy, we’re not on air right now,” he murmured, pulling out the phone. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Alexey.” It took Aspirin a few seconds to recognize the voice of Vasya the concierge. “Your place . . . well, there is this situation in your apartment, and we need you to come home.”
“What happened?” Aspirin felt cold.
“I think you’ve been robbed.”
Aspirin realized he’d forgotten to activate his alarm—again.
“If you think I am being robbed, you should call the police.”
“But it’s the screaming . . .”
“Who is screaming? The robbers?”
“Yes . . . I thought . . . you haven’t left anyone in the apartment, have you?”
Alyona’s sad face flashed in front of Aspirin’s eyes; he thought of the way she stared at the cab pulling away.
“The girl . . . ,” he murmured.
“Your girl is here, I took her into my room. So, should I call the police?”
“Call them!” Aspirin yelled. “You should have done that right away!”
The line went dead.
A police car and an ambulance were parked by the entrance, surrounded by the curious neighbors—because how could anyone stay away? Voices caught his ear:
“Alexey, is that your apartment?”
“What happened?”
“Did you hear the screams?”
A stretcher covered with a sheet was being carried