The person who finds

Kabishev

 

Imagine a person who has never lost anything, and even on the contrary. All the things that you, your relatives, acquaintances or absolutely strangers have ever lost, he found completely by accident. This story will be about such a person.

 

“Oh what, is it a wallet again? I can’t believe how tired they are! I’ll pretend that I didn’t notice it…” Mr. M. stood on the sidewalk of Avenue Maurice, not particularly late for work, but not particularly willing to come to this state. Rivers of people and cars flowed past him in both directions, only the ancient larch and fir trees that grew just between the sidewalk and the main Avenue were motionless, drowning in clouds of smoke and dust raised by thousands of wheels, as if in a fog.

“I’m definitely not ready to start my day as usual! Today I will pass by! As much as I can find, let someone else find it!”. So decided Mr. M., and filled with confidence and remorse, he continued on his way.

The office of the company where Mr. M. worked was located on p. square. It was a large gray multi-story building, the second floor of which was completely devoted to the accounting Department. Mr. M., as usual, went up the stairs, along the corridor, and stopped in front of the door of his small office, noticing a thick folder lying on the floor. “She’s lost it again,” he thought, picking up the folder and entering the office.

 

No more than an hour passed. Mr. M. was already completely engrossed in his work, when she entered the office – the Secretary of their Department, already elderly and absent-minded, Vera Petrovna Lost.

– Hello, M – she began uncertainly.

– Good afternoon, Vera Petrovna, – he said cheerfully, without looking up.

– You know, I lost…

– Here’s your file. – Also cheerfully answering and still looking at the monitor, Mr. M replied, handing her the same folder that he found in the morning.

– But how are you…

– It has your name on it.

– Oh, thank you… The head of the Department asked you to come in. But where are my glasses?

– You left them on the table, – also, without taking his eyes off the monitor, our hero answered.

– But how you know…

– I just know they’re there.

Vera Petrovna, embarrassed, left his office in silence. She was afraid of this ability, and considered it a manifestation of unknown, supernatural forces.

When the door closed behind her, Mr. M. stopped, moved back a little in his chair, looked at the ceiling, unconsciously, like a rag doll, lowered his hands, hanging them from the arms of the chair, and closed his eyes. “How tired of all this…” was the only thought in his head.

 

Perhaps now it’s time to introduce you to our main character – Mr. M. He worked as an accountant in a fairly large, but unknown company R. On the whole, he was a fairly ordinary person, both in his lifestyle and appearance… Perhaps it would not have made sense to write a story about him at all, if not for his amazing ability to find. From an early age he had this gift or rather a curse… He found everything that was lost, forgotten, or left behind… But as soon as he found something, all the accusations rained down on him: “You stole it! You took it! You hid it!» There were various troubles, but there were also grateful people who appreciated his ability, as well as those who were happy to use this ability for their own purposes, brazenly invading his life.

 

Anyway, by the time this story is told, Mr. M has gathered around him a small club of annoying and exploiting fans: neighbors, acquaintances, onlookers and just curious. By nature, he was an honest man, and therefore gave all the things found to their owners or people who appeared to be such…

Of course, some of these items never found their owners, in such cases, he kept them to give to the owner when he found them or gave them to those in need. Although some of the things found sometimes helped him. So there was a small reward for such a big curse.

 

But now the working day is over, Mr. M, as always swift and invisible to colleagues, gathers and leaves, disappearing into the evening streets like a shadow. On the way home, he sees this “morning” wallet again. “Impossible, I saw it this morning. No one picked him up all day” – he stood silently, looked at him and thought. “What should I do?” Although for himself, he already knew the answer to this question. Stooping, he picked it up and sauntered off to the neighborhood police station he knew so well.

 

– Citizen M. you again! – the district police officer shouts – as much as possible, you are already tired of everyone here!

– I found the wallet…

– Again?

– Yes, here it is,- our hero replied calmly and a little irritated, taking out of his pocket the very object that had made the evening so difficult for him and handing it to the police officer.

– Why didn’t you keep it, or just throw it away? – taking the wallet in his hands and examining it with interest, the district police officer asked a question.

– Maybe the one who lost it is looking for it…

– Yes, you will find everything that anyone has ever lost!

– By the way, can you help us find a thirteenth – century treasure, or I can’t find it, or whoever killed Kennedy, or life off earth? -the attendant laughed.

– Don’t do that! – the district police officer remarked guiltily

– So what? – Mr. M said wearily.

– Here is the form, fill it out, everything is as usual – said the district police officer, holding out the sheet.

– Yes, I remember… – he answered helplessly.

 

It was almost midnight when he finally left the station. He was tired and angry. The streets were silent and hot, but the white nights clearly illuminated the silhouette of the city that was falling asleep. It was quiet, no rumble of cars, no iron clatter of trams, only birds singing softly, safely hidden somewhere in the branches of flowering trees.

Mr. M. went home and suffered. “How tired I am of all this! How tiresome it all is!”

 

***

 

And now he was almost home. He enters such a native courtyard, passing through a gloomy gateway, like a portal to the underworld. Near the entrance there are several people who are actively discussing something. “Oh no, they’re here!” he thinks, turning away and looking busy as he takes out his keys and walks over to them. “I’ll get through while they’re looking the other way,” he decides, but he stumbles in his haste and falls in front of them, dropping the keys with a shrill metallic clink. Naturally, this attracts the attention of everyone, they fall silent, looking with interest at the fallen person. He gets up quickly and, picking up the keys, literally jumps to the door and opens it in the blink of an eye.

– Is that you? -someone tries to ask him from behind.

But he no longer hears anyone, slams the door behind him and quickly goes up the stairs to the fourth floor, and then a new obstacle. The entire flight is filled with people, led by his neighbor Maria Ivanovna. All these people have lost something today and will ask him to find it or will ask if he found their property. But what’s worse, there’s a neighbor here and she knows him by sight. So the way home is closed until he answers them all… But there are twenty people here! And the ones below! “No, I can’t make it to the apartment,” he says, seeing the door being closed by the backs of dozens of people who have already turned their faces at him. And here he is in the spotlight.

– Here is he! Mr. M! -the neighbor shouts happily.

– Maria Ivanovna, I’m tired and…

– No excuses, all these people were waiting for you, and you are so late! – she interrupted him.

– What an outrage! – echoes someone.

– We’ve been waiting for you… – a third voice croaks.

– But I… – Mr. m tries to protest.

“I made a list while we were waiting for you!” So today everyone will be in the order of the queue! You should be ashamed of your tardiness! – the neighbor continues meanwhile, not hearing him and opening a thick greasy green economic notebook.

– No…

– No objections! So, first on the list…

– Leave me alone, everyone! Mr. M. shouts, and runs down the stairs into the courtyard and out into the street.

– M. where are you going?! – the neighbor is indignant.

– Hold him! -someone shouts after him.

But he’s already downstairs, and a moment later he’s outside. There are already a lot of people here and there are familiar faces. They recognized him!

– Here it he!

– Nooo! What’s the matter? -he shouts back, and scares them with his hysterical madness as he runs away. The face is no longer in front, but flows like a river of night lights, air currents, and the sounds of random cars. He leaves behind this noisy crowd and keeps one thought in his head: “How tired of all this! How tiresome it all is! How tiresome it all is!”

 

Mr. M. has been running for several minutes, his strength is gradually leaving him, his legs begin to stumble, he stumbles again and falls. For a moment, he loses consciousness… but then he comes to, his gaze floats down the street, he lifts up, in front of him is a deserted street, cars, a lamppost and a colorful piece of paper next to it. “What is this, how strange, it’s not just a piece of paper…” He gets up from his knees and goes to the lamppost to get a better look at his random find. And now the light from the lantern literally illuminates it, written. “This is a ticket to Tahiti for one! For tomorrow? Unbelievable! Can… No, I can’t just leave it like this, can I?”

He goes down the street, carefully skirting the fresh, hidden rain puddles in the dark, and constantly continues to think and doubt, and now and then looking at the ticket: “What is waiting for me here tomorrow? Work! And a lot of people who lost something and… No! No, I can just leave. I want to leave. But how? Ticket-that is, but no, no passport, no Luggage, or even extra money…»

At that very moment, a minibus whizzed past him, a suitcase almost flying out of the poorly closed back door. It literally knocks our hero down. But then he comes to, and the minibus has long been out of sight: “Yes, this has not even happened to me yet… I wonder what’s in the suitcase?” Mr. M. examines a suitcase, or rather a huge briefcase – it has a combination lock. “I’ll try,” he decides, and confidently enters the code “123123”. There is a soft click and the case opens as if by magic. It is mostly filled with money, as well as various documents,passports and some very attractive jewelry in velvet cases.

“Let’s see whose passport. Oh! Mr. M. found my full namesake, or rather his passport! Hm…”

 

***

 

– Do you have a Declaration for the export of this amount of money from the country, not to mention the rest? the customs officer asks irritably in a nasty nasal voice.

Mr. M. is already at the airport, the situation is more than not in his favor. In the face of such a question, and behind it are already almost close to two employees of the airport security service. “What should I do? Why did I decide to do this?” he begins to panic to himself, lowering his gaze. But then he sees a nondescript, crumpled piece of paper lying at his feet.

– Yes, of course, here it is, fell out, – he bends down and, without looking, gives a piece of paper that looks like a document. The customs officer studies it for a few seconds, then turns pale and, suddenly changing his voice, returns the paper with trembling hands and squeezes it out:

– Sorry for the delay, Mr. M., would you like to transfer to business class, at our expense?

– Why not? I don’t mind, – our hero answers, confused, but with inner satisfaction.

It passes through the glass gallery, enters the aircraft cabin, and takes its new comfortable seat in business class.

“What was that piece of paper? Wait, where is she? He checks his pockets, but she’s gone. “I lost it!” With this thought, he finally calms down, leaning back in his leather chair, placing his hands on the arms. A flight attendant had already arrived and he made himself a small holiday order: salmon riyet, black caviar sandwiches, and 1967 Bourbon. He quite enjoys the combination of circumstances: he flies, everything went well and the curse is lifted – after all, he lost the Declaration, but in anticipation of this feast, he decided to take a NAP to take a little break from the attack of the events of the previous hours. But here he is for a second before a well-deserved sleep opens his eyes and she is in front of him, the same Declaration! At his feet! “Well, all over again…” decided Mr. M and added whiskey to his order.