Sailing close to the shore I took all I needed and pulled the boat out onto the sand. I hid it in the thick bushes of the exotic forest.
There were monkeys crying, and up in the night sky large bats flew around flashing with burning green eyes.
I gathered some brushwood and made a fire on the sandy shore. I had supper by the fire and, fearing the unexpected attacks of wild animals, could not fall asleep till morning.
But in the end I somehow did fall asleep, and my fire went out. When I woke up I saw a man of about 35 years of age. He was tall and broad-shouldered, black-haired and snub-nosed, with thick lips and slant eyes. He had striped clothes on and had a harpoon with a sharp head in his hand.
Apprehending the danger, I got up. But speaking in Russian he set me at ease:
- Don"t be afraid. I won"t do wrong to you.
- Are you Russian? - I asked in surprise
- No, - he said - we speak Russian but we are not Russians. My name is Ibn Yamin.
He stretched his hand to me to get acquainted.
- I am Mukhameddin - I said shaking his hand.
- Nice to meet you
- Nice to meet you, too, I said smiling.
We continued our conversation in a friendly atmosphere. When I told him briefly about myself and my occupation Ibn Yamin warned me that I should by no means tell the islanders about it. The matter was that by the decree of Boshmutant, the ruler of the island of mutants and nits, medicine was forbidden on the island. He who dared cure mutants and nits would be executed, without investigation and trial, with a bat, to spare a bullet. For being healthy for the mutants and nits was a disgrace and equaled to genocide. Should a mutant recover, he or she would be sentenced to death and tied to a tree of shame with ropes, smeared with pitch and burnt alive.
Ibn Yamin turned out to be a nice man. We made friends very quickly. I helped him drive fish in the lagoon where my new friend usually caught it with his sharp harpoon. After lunch we went to the village where Ibn Yamin lived. He told me many interesting things, and later I wrote everything down in my diary.
Ibn Yamin"s ancestors at one time arrived at this island in search of peace, fleeing from persecution on the part of Kargarangs. It was an exotic island where the ocean waves ground the coastal rocks licking them with their huge tongues, where hundreds of thousands of birds left their nests flying in the wet wind and crying altogether, where green tropical forests perpetually rustled with soft fluttering or crackling sounds, where flocks of yellow and green parrots settled snugly and comfortably in their nests, where the noise of tropical rain and cries of monkeys resounded in the air coming from distant woods, where wild bananas grew and where Ibn Yamin"s ancestors had lived a long time building roads and houses, hunting wild animals and fishing by the Ocean shores. But one day hordes of mutants and nits arrived at the island shores on ships.
Heroically defending the island from the invaders Ibn Yamin"s ancestors had lost many courageous warriors.
In an unequal battle the mutants and nits had won a victory over the healthy people and besieged the island declaring it "an island mutants and nips". They gave it the name of "Zhimland". Its capital was the village of Lattakhoch. The ruler of the island was the Monarch by the name of Boshmutant, the chief mutant with his chief executioner Shishmutant. The Monarch"s wife was Yoshmutant, which meant young mutant. The astounding thing about it was the fact that some healthy people wanted to become mutants or at least nits. To win the favor of the Monarch Boshmutant they married off their young and healthy daughters to aged mutants and nits. Some people had even undergone a plastic surgery in order to look like mutants and nits. But the security services disclosed the trick accusing them of violating the law of Zhimland. The pseudo-mutants were arrested on the same day and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment.
The mutants and nits worshiped the idol Grekhbatta The leader of that religious group was Brigbattal Blokholov. Every night, opening his book of perversion in the shrine "Cakes Brothel", the sinful Father prayed his confession, beginning with the name of the idol. That"s what he said in particular:
"My dear stray children, our book of perversion says that every member of our faith should commit at least one sin a day. Then he will go to the paradise Durman located on the ocean shore where dirty prostitutes, souteneurs, homosexuals, androgynes, alcoholics and drug addicts render their intimated services to parishioners. There are a sauna with a swimming pool and a casino for gambling there. And he who does anybody good is in for it. He will right off get to hell which is under the residence of His Majesty Boshmutant.
Ibn Yamin met Brigbattal Blokholov when his father Kukhikan, defending the oppressed healthy people, had broken the rules and had to go the Cakes Brothel Shrine where he was marked with Satan"s hot star and given absolution from the good he"d done. But it didn"t help anyway. Six months later Ibn Yakhim Kukhikan" father had exceeded the bounds of the law again criticizing strongly the police of Boshmutant and was arrested and convicted of a crime. The criminal case was taken to the Supreme Court. The hearing had lasted a long time, and finally the court passed the sentence on his attempt to overthrow the constitutional regime and condemned him to death. To see with his own eyes that he had got rid of his main opponent, Boshmutant attended the the execution ceremony near Garbage Mountain.
As Garbage Mountain was a sightseeing of Zhimland big ceremonies were arranged there such as executions. Ibn Yamin was not allowed to see his father. Rattling with shackles and chains the latter proudly went up to the scaffold. They took the shackles off his hands and feet and put him on the scaffold placing his right foot into a wooden casing witch they filled with concrete. While the judge was reading the verdict the concrete of the highest quality hardened and dried up. Then, by Boshmutant"s order, Ibn Yamin"s father was thrown into the ocean to be eaten up by sharks. The mutants and nits made merry while the healthy people cried in silence. Ibn Yamin, too, shed tears, cursing angrily Boshmutant"s regime. He clenched his fists so strongly that one could hear his bones crunch.
After the tragic death of his father Ibn yamin was left alone. His mother married the middle school teacher of Dog"s Language and Literature by the name of Kamish Leila Kunji Mol Sulak. It was still a mystery to him why on earth Ibn Yamin should have married that man and what she had found in that thin creature, with a long neck and a bird"s head. But that was his mom"s right, so to say.
Thus the teacher of Dog"s Language and Literature with a strange name became Ibn Ymin"s father in law.
To forget it all, Ibn Ymin was looking at the dark window of the wooden house which his father and he had built from logs some time before.
It was dark outside, and it was raining heavily. Ibn Yamin was engrossed in thought again listening to the sound of rain. Like other people, he loved his father. He was not only his father but also a friend of his. They used to go fishing in the opens sea together rowing amidst the autumn clouds of fog. When father cast the net with all his might like a Texas cowboy throws a lasso on a wild horse" neck, it flew up so beautifully! A spectacular sight it was indeed! Particularly when they pulled out the net out of water with fish Ibn Yamin would forget about the world around for a while. His heart would be filled with such a joy, a joy beyond compare!
And now his dear and near father was probably lying on the bottom of the ocean. His body might have already been eaten up by sharks...
. What a good man his father was! Could he ever forget how he and father cut big trees with a sharp axe in the wood, how splinters dispersed flying in all directions and how nice the bark and the wet dust of trees smelled in the wood! How the trees fell frightening the parrots whose multicolored feathers glittered in the sun!
Up to that day the rattle of fallen trees and the cries of parrots lingered in his memory.
Sipping coffee, Ibn Yamin wistfully looked out of the window. It was raining cats and dogs in darkness.
Suddenly somebody knocked at the door frightening Ibn Ibn Yamin. There was another knock. He got up cautiously without tearing his eyes off the window. He raised the lantern and went up to the window. He saw the contour of a man with a pale face flash in the window. When he heard a voice from outside the window he felt a nervous tremor in his backbone. It was a voice very similar to his father"s.
- Sunny, open the door. I am your father. I am back. Don"t be afraid. I will explain it to you now. You see, I never told you and never showed it to you. My foot which the mutants had concreted was artificial, that is plastic. You see.. Well... how should I explain it...
Now my fear had disappeared turning into joy. Ibn Yamin nearly dropped his lantern for joy. Leaving the lantern on the table he opened the window quickly and stretched his hand to his father. The latter climbed into the house through he window, and hugging each other they cried and laughed happily. Then Ibn Yamid helped his father to take change his clothes. When his father had warmed himself up with a cup of coffee wrapping himself in the blanket Ibn Yamin put his arms round his shoulders and said:
- Thank God, you are alive. When you, like a ghost, looked into the window I got terribly scared. Oh, my Lord, how could you walk with your plastic foot all this time? I didn"t know it was artificial. What had happened to it?
- Well, sunny, there was in incident.
He looked at his bad foot which he had made a month before. Then he told his story:
One day Boshmutant arranged a bloody competition, a shark fight, at the main amphitheatre of Zhimland. An artificial water reservoir had been built on that occasion on the ocean shore at the foot of the high rocks. The pool was filled with blue ocean water mixed with blood to attract sharks, and the bloody show began. Hundreds of gladiators became preys of the blood-thirsty sharks. But they fought to the end dying with dignity. May they rest in peace. The mutants and nits, with Boshmutant at the head, enjoyed these dramatic scenes.
Now it was my turn to fight. I jumped into the water where sharks swam around furrowing the surface with their dorsal fins. Taking the harpoon in my hands I attacked the sharks. I killed one very quickly. But it took rather a long time to fight the next one. It bit off my right foot. Despite the burning pain I continued fighting the shark. Taking my chance, I hit it with all my might piercing its belly. It tossed about for a while and then turned over with it its belly up. So I had won. But this victory cost me much. When the gangrene had begun the newcomer from the Island of Durdabon Monsieur Lord Mr. Baron de Chanell amputated my foot. The mutants later killed him for treating the children of mutants and nits.
-Well, well, - said Ibn Yamin looking proudly at his father. The latter fell silent. Then he asked:
- Sunny, what about your mom? Where is she?
Instead of giving the answer, Ibn Yahim frowned hanging his head.
-Why don"t you answer? Where is she? In hospital, is she? Why do you keep silent? Is she ill? That"s what I thought. Poor creature, she was worrying about me. I thought she had left for your granny"s. Tell me, is she in hospital? It was entirely my fault. She loves me more than life. Do you hear? We should tell her as quickly as possible about my arrival from the other world before she committed suicide in despair...
- She is gone - Ibn Yamin said interrupting his father.
- Gone? Where to?
- Just gone.
- How come? That can"t be. Maybe, someone had hurt her? Was she hurt?
- You see, father, it"s I am embarrassed to tell you about it. Well, you know, she got married.
On hearing that Ibn Yamin"s father opened his mouth like a fish having a feed in an aquarium.
- Come on! What are you talking about? - he said getting up.
- Yes, father, it"s true. She married the teacher if Dog"s Language and Literature. His name is Kamish Leila Kunji Mol Sulak.
- Really? - said the father standing like a statue in a cemetery.
- Yes - said Ibn Yamin. To console his father, he hugged him saying:
- Don"t worry. The main thing is that you are safe and sound. To be honest, she is not to blame, after all. Maybe she married that idiot to forget about your death.
The father sat down in the armchair and lit a cigarette letting the smoke out through the wide nostrils of his nose looking like a red pepper. Then he turned sharply to his son:
- And you looked at it through your fingers?
- You see, father, she is not a sister of mine, after all, how could I tell mom what to do? I did tell her that it was not good to marry after father"s recent execution. She wouldn"t listen to me. What was I supposed to do in that situation?
- There was no reply to Ibn Yamin"s question. Father and son were looking out into the night window. They could hear the noise of the tropical heavy shower still coming from outside.