Baba Yaga Laid an Egg

Beba was a little offended at first because Pupa and Kukla did not appear to be particularly pleased about her winnings. She had dreamed up this little celebration for them, as a treat, but they were indifferent, or that is how it seemed to her. But then, thought Beba, she could not take credit for the money; it had come to her by chance. Why should they praise and congratulate her? On her stupid good fortune?

At that moment Mevludin, who had clearly skived off work, because he was wearing his ‘uniform’, burst into the pool room.

‘Well, well, well! What do you mean by starting the party without me, eh?’

‘Come on, we’re waiting for you,’ called Beba brightly.

Mevlo grabbed a glass from the invisible waiter and then, slipping off his clogs, walked slowly into the pool in his wide trousers, little waistcoat and turban.

‘Hey, my ladies! Here you are soaking in the pool like gherkins in brine. Well, then, cheers, my lovelies! And I want to toast my granny as well: I sent her some money a few days ago so she could have lovely new teeth made, and stop clicking like castanets all over the place,’ Mevlo chattered, and then he stopped in amazement.

Coming face to face with a little old lady on a floating lounger, wearing white socks and a swimming costume from which the Teletubbies gazed out at him, for a moment Mevludin felt as though he were in the presence of some ancient divinity.

‘Excuse me for jabbering on like this, madam,’ said Mevludin.

With almost youthful sweetness, the lady offered him her little, dry hand. Mevludin was touched by this hand that resembled a bird’s claw, and then he was ashamed of his chattering.

‘Well, Mevlo, you’re right welcome, boy,’ said Beba cheerfully.

‘Ah, my lovelies, it’s all very well for you, drinking champagne and soaking yourselves in the pool,’ Mevludin opened his mouth again, but this time he addressed Beba.

‘But you’re drinking and soaking yourself too.’

‘Maybe I am, but I’m not happy.’

‘Why not?’ asked Pupa.

‘She knows,’ said Mevludin, pointing to Beba.

‘Shall I tell them?’ asked Beba.

‘Go on, tell them, love. I’ve got nothing to hide. Good things keep mum, while misfortune kicks out, showing its bare bum.’

‘Mevlo’s in love,’ explained Beba.

‘Who with?’ asked Pupa.

‘You know, that little American girl, we told you…’

‘So you’ve been blathering to all and sundry!’ said Mevlo crossly.

‘No, I haven’t, honestly, no one knows apart from the three of us!’

‘Kukla knows.’

‘Well, that’s three, presumably.’

The women burst out laughing.

‘Honestly! It’s all very well for you to wet yourselves laughing!’ said Mevlo.

‘That’s right, it’s not nice for us to be cackling, when the girl’s lost her father!’ said Beba.

‘God rest his soul, rahmetli Mr Shaker,’ said Mevlo.

‘When did it happen?’ asked Pupa.

‘Yesterday.’

‘How?’

‘The guy kicked the bucket.’

‘How?’

‘He suffocated on a golf ball.’

‘What a lovely way to die!’ said Pupa.

Kukla drank the rest of her champagne in silence, while Mevlo, Beba and Pupa discussed Mr Shaker’s ‘lovely’ death and philosophised on the theme ‘here today, gone tomorrow’. She did not seem particularly interested in their conversation. But she did give a little start when one of Pupa’s observations reached her ear.

‘Fine. Now there’s nothing in the way of your happiness!’ said Pupa, curving her long neck and directing her bright gaze in Mevludin’s direction.

How lively she’s become, all of a sudden! thought Kukla, who was anxious about Pupa’s sudden chattiness. Because on the whole she dozed or said nothing and this unexpected liveliness did not bode well.

‘I’m in the way of my happiness, like a log,’ Mevlo replied.

‘Mevlo thinks he’s not good enough for the girl, that he doesn’t speak English, which is true, and that he lacks polish,’ explained Beba.

Here Pupa raised herself up a little on her lounger and asked in a serious tone:

‘Do you pick your nose in the girl’s presence?’

‘No, I don’t, I swear by my granny,’ said Mevlo, astonished by the question.

‘Are you stingy?’ Pupa went on.

‘No, I’m not, I swear by my mother.’

‘Remember, there’s nothing worse than a stingy man!’

‘I’m not stingy, I swear by Tito!’

‘Do you chatter a lot in the girl’s presence?’

‘Well, I like talking, I can’t say I don’t, but I control myself… And anyway I can’t speak English,’ he replied candidly.

‘You’re as handsome as Apollo, you don’t pick your nose, you’re not stingy and you don’t talk too much. There’s nothing at all the matter with you!’ announced Pupa in the tone of a doctor who was a hundred per cent sure of her diagnosis.

Beba burst out laughing. Even Kukla laughed, but like someone who was just learning how to do it. Her throat just let out a sound like whinnying.

‘Who’s this Apollo guy?’ Mevlo whispered to Beba.

‘She’s saying that you look terrific, and she can’t see what the problem is.’

‘What’s the good of it if I don’t have even the remotest hint of a brain?’ said Mevludin, turning to Pupa.

‘You have clever hands!’ Beba leapt to Mevlo’s defence.