"I know now, finally. Last night I set up some guideposts. And you can tell from the map. Tonight we can go to Polano Square without fail. Milo set out during the day, and promised to meet us. I'm going to try going-- If I'm right we can take everyone tomorrow."
I was hooked, and felt my heart pound.
"Really? I'll go too. I'd better, in case anything happens. I wonder what sort of people will be there."
"I suppose clothes don't matter. Let's go now. I don't know who else will be there."
I hastily knotted a necktie, put on a new straw hat and went out. We reached the place where we had parted previously just as the blue light of evening was pouring into the pearlworts and it was becoming difficult to see the scratch-like pattern on their leaves. Fazelo stood on tiptoe and looked around for a moment, then suddenly started running. Moments later he stopped, just as suddenly.
"Ah, this is it-- look!"
What I saw was a branch stuck in the ground, apparently by Fazelo, with an arrow drawn on a piece of paper at the tip pointing toward the northwest.
"Let's go this way. See the two small birch trees over there? That's the next marker. Let's hurry, before it gets dark."
Fazelo started off at a steady run. By then the pearlworts were beginning to light up. I ran along behind Fazelo.
Still running, Fazelo called back, "Hurry, hurry. I don't want the Wildcat's coachman to spot us."
We still weren't close to the two birches I had seen before. Fazelo was a good runner. I was running for all I was worth.
Fazelo stopped when we reached the trees. Night had fallen all around us, and the birches stood out black against the darkening sky. The pearlwort flowers, on the other hand, were growing brighter, and looked as if they had actual incandescent bulbs. When I looked closely, each light was shaped like a small white moth, just as everyone had said the previous night, and they were actually glowing nicely. Here and there were taller, red lamps, each with a design of green leaves. Fazelo quietly climbed up a birch tree. He looked over the western part of the plain for a few moments, then jumped down out of the tree.
"I can't see the next marker now. But Polano Square should be directly west of here. Let's head toward the slightly brighter part of that cloud. It's not too much farther."
We started walking again. Suddenly we heard a ringing sound like steel beetles' wings spread across the sky. At times we could hear bits of some other music and human voices mixed in with this sound.
After we had walked a while Fazelo stopped, grasped my arm and pointed at the western edge of the plain. I looked in the direction he indicated, rubbed my eyes and looked again. There were seven or eight trees of some kind there that glowed blue as though glowing within themselves. The air surrounding them also had a vague glow.
Then we heard a voice: "Fazelo?"
"Ah, you've come! Is it going?"
"It is-- very lively. It looks like Dr. Wildcat has come too."
"Dr. Wildcat?" Fazelo sounded terrified.
"Let's go together, though. Anyone who finds it can go to Polano Square, you know."
"Good. Let's go." Fazelo spoke quite clearly.
We all headed toward that light. Both Milo and Fazelo seemed quite worried about something; they didn't say anything further. Now I was the one with bright spirits. Would things really be like in the old fairy tales? And what else would there be? What was Dr. Wildcat doing there? I had to go find out. And on that day I was carrying over half of what remained of my salary, and was ready to treat Fazelo and Milo if it was necessary to pay.
"Okay, then, this time you follow me-- I don't have any reason to be afraid of Dr. Wildcat."
I went to the front, and hurried forward. The sound of beetle wings grew louder, and individual branches of the blue trees became visible. Beneath the trees there were black forms in white shirts moving back and forth. I saw someone raise his hand and say something.
Finally we were close enough that I could tell this was the real Polano Square. What had shown blue were fairly large alder trees, but their branches were strung with numerous lamps that made the very leaves sparkle. Above them were lines of moths and butterflies flying in circles around them.
In the beautiful summer sky, the Milky Way arched above us, looking like a hazy explosion just above the black southern horizon. Amidst the aroma of the pearlworts the aroma of a variety of fruit and the laughter of the crowd, many of the crowd began dancing. And there was an actual orchestra, even though it was only seven or eight people, that has begun a gay waltz. As the dance ended, the dancers separated and took up their glasses. With happy cries, they drank them dry. Perhaps it was the effect of the night air, but some of the cries sounded like cheers for Destupago.
"There's Dr. Wildcat," Fazelo said. He pointed at a stocky man in a yellow-striped shirt and red leather jacket who sat alone at a table guzzling wine.
Six or seven people had thrown confetti and streamers, which fell through the air glittering like snow, or flower petals.
We stopped at the edge of the square. Destupago stood up, glass in hand, just at that moment.
"Hey! Hey, waiter-- how about pouring me some wine!"
A white-shirted waiter quickly ran over. "Yes sir, I'm sorry. It's just that you were sitting down..."
"Whether I'm sitting down or standing up doesn't change who I am, does it? Okay, everybody, how about drinking to my health? P-p-prochit!"
Everyone emptied his glass.
I was somewhat daunted, and wondered if we should return home. But considering what I had just told Fazelo and Milo, I could neither stop nor flee. I decided to just see what happened, and removing my hat, lead the two into the circle of lights. Everyone fell silent, and looked at us suspiciously. Then they looked at Destupago.
Destupago had lowered his eyes, thinking. It was as though he didn't want to look like he had seen us. Then a man in a summer frockcoat approached him and whispered something in his ear. Destupago gave us an ill-tempered glance, then nodded as though to say it couldn't be helped.
At that Temo, also wearing a frockcoat-- it was Temo-- came over to us. He was carrying three glasses imprinted with a seal, and silently placed them before myself, Milo, and then Fazelo. Temo glared wordlessly as he gave one to Fazelo. Fazelo pulled back slightly. From a large pitcher with no label, the waiter poured the same wine everyone else had been drinking.
Finally I spoke. "We don't drink wine-- could you bring some soda?"
"We don't have soda," the waiter said.
"In that case, just bring us water."
For some reason, everyone was staring right at us, as though to bore a hole right through us.
"Impossible," Temo said. "Mr. Destupago doesn't treat people to water."
"I didn't ask for a treat. This is Polano Square, in the midst of the plain, approached by counting pearlwort lights. I am thirsty, and would like to drink water."
I felt that under the circumstances there was no choice but to speak plainly.
Temo laughed loudly at the mention of pearlwort lights. Destupago laughed as well. In a moment everyone was laughing along with them.
"You may not like it, but Polano Square is Mr. Destupago's," Temo said quietly.
Then Dr. Wildcat spoke. "Good, good, give them water if that's what they want. But if guys that drink water come here, Polano Square may get hidden a little better."
Temo agreed with him, then lowered his voice. "Fazelo-- What are you doing here? Get lost, now! If you ever come back I'll beat you till you can't stand up." Fazelo pulled back.
"Who's the kid?" Destupago asked.
"It's Rozalo's little brother," Temo replied with a bow.
Destupago looked away without responding. Just then the orchestra started playing what sounded like a folk song. People got up and were forming a circle to start dancing when Destupago spoke.
"Hey, how about playing Katzhusker instead?"
The man with the cello said the orchestra didn't have the music for piece. Destupago, already drunk, said "I said to p-play it, so why aren't you p-p-playing it!" The orchestra had no alternative but to begin playing Katzhusker, all from a single sheet of music. Destupago began to dance too. He did not dance along with the others, but in fact moved around as though trying to get in their way. The other dancers gave up dancing, and stood in a circle around Destupago, who continued dancing wildly by himself. In the end he was stamping his feet in front of the others, then suddenly leaping up as though to pick a fight. The others fled in an uproar. The man in the summer frock coat, apparently worried, touched his shoulder and tried to say something, but Destupago pulled away threateningly. The orchestra kept playing a little longer, but finally gave up.
Destupago returned to his chair, looking tired, and called, "Hey! Pour!" and drank down two more glasses of wine.
Two people who seemed to know Milo came over to speak to him.
"Milo, since you've come this far, how about singing one for us?"
"Everyone else has been singing and dancing, so we're tired, you know."
But Milo refused and waved away the hands they stretched toward them. But in fact he had come because he wanted to sing, so when one of the orchestra said they were ready to accompany him if he would sing, Milo turned pink and and began to breathe rapidly.
"Do it, I told him; "Give them a good song."
Milo made up his mind. He cleared his throat and got up on an empty box under the alder trees.
"What would you like to do?" the cellist asked him.
"Play Frozen Tree, please."
"We don't have the music for that either-- it's a pretty old song." The orchestra laughed and exchanged looks, then consulted for a moment. "How's this, then? Only the clarinet knows it, but he'll play it with the drummer beating time, and if they sound okay, you can join in on the second verse."
People clapped. Even Temo turned to listen. The orchestra played, and then Milo started singing.
"At six this morning, when I was about
to cross Valtravala ridge,
The morning mist, at just that hour
was just about to lift.
A chestnut shone with a halo of sun
where I sat down on a stone.
I started to nibble a piece of bread
that had turned as hard as stone.
Two electric squirrels suddenly
slid down out of the tree.
But just as quick, I ..."
"Hey! Hey, that's wrong!" Dr. Wildcat bellowed.
"What do you mean?" Milo was dumbfounded.
"There wouldn't be any electric squirrels on Valtrav„la ridge this morning. You must have seen a weasel. Please think carefully before you sing."
"That's certainly a good idea." Milo stepped down angrily.
Then Dr. Wildcat stood up. "I'm going to sing now. You, band, play In the Good Summer Time." He began to sing, surprisingly well, as soon as the orchestra started playing.
"In the evening when the pearl-
wort flowers are in bloom.
There's a summer festival
at Polano Square.
But if those who won't drink wine,
and just drink water come,
Polano Square is sure to fade
away in the morning sun."
Fazelo said nothing, but looked like he was ready to cry. When the song was over, he jumped up before I could grab him, and climbed up on the stand.
"I'll sing too. The same tune."
The orchestra started up again. Dr. Wildcat said, "no, this isn't normal," and guzzled down two more large glasses.
Fazelo sang with all his energy.
"On nights when the perfume
of pearlwort fills the air,
There's a summer festival
at Polano Square.
But if drunken wildcats
in yellow shirts sit there,
Then the rain is sure to fall
on Polano Square.
Rain will soon be pouring down
on Polano Square."
Destupago stood up in a rage. "That's an insult. Let's duel... a duel."
I stood up immediately and pulled Fazelo behind me.
"You're talking nonsense-- you insulted us first. How can you duel a child like this? Would you like to fight me?"
"It's not your turn yet. Get out of the way. He insulted me, an honorable provincial councillor. So he's the one I challenge to a duel."
"No, you insulted me, so I challenge you to a duel. If you look at the whole picture, it all goes back to your vanity in thinking the whole plain belongs to you. You choose-- pistols or swords!"
Destupago quickly guzzled down more wine. "Fazelo can handle it," I laughed to myself. "This guy's a weakling."
Then Destupago bellowed in a hollow voice, "Shut up! You don't know the protocol of duelling."
"All right. Even a child can take on a contemptible fellow that can't even talk without drinking wine first. Go ahead, Fazelo. This guy is a pine caterpiller from the plain. I'll be watching your back, and I'll join in if they try anything funny."
"Okay, who's going to be my second?"
The man we'd seen before in the summer frock coat came up then. "Now, now. You shouldn't take on a child like this. Not on an important night like this. Don't you agree?"
Dr. Wildcat pushed the man away. "Stop babbling! Be quiet. Hey, who's going to be my second? Temo!"
"Yes sir. Excuse me, please. I've got a lot to take care of later."
"Stop babbling! Krono! You do it."
The man called Krono, who looked like a farmer, said "No, not me," and moved to the back of the crowd.
"Coward! Portio, you do it."
"I can't."
Destupago was steadily growing angrier. "All right, I don't need a second. Get ready!"
"You get ready," I said, taking Fazelo's jacket.
"Bring swords or guns, which ever you prefer."
"You say which you want," I said, wondering where such things could be found.
"All right. Waiter! Bring two swords."
The waiter seemed to have been waiting for the order. "There are no swords on the plain. Will knives do?"
Destupago looked relieved, and replied loudly. "All right-- bring them out."
"Right away, sir."
The waiter brought two dinner knives, and handed them to Destupago respectfully. To me it looked like a play. Destupago politly inspected the two knives, then said, "Take whichever you like," and handed them to Fazelo.
Fazelo immediately took one and threw the other at Destupago's feet. Destupago picked it up.
Then I stepped between them. "Ready. Follow the protocol of duels. No grabbing. One, two three, go!"
At that, Destupago grasped his short knife like a sword and began thrusting it at Fazelo's breast with all his energy, at the same time retreating from him. Fazelo used a dagger grip, and aimed at Destupago's wrist. After they circled three times, Destupago suddenly dropped his knife and pressed his left hand against his right wrist.
"Oh! Oh! He got me. Doesn't anyone have some iodoform? Any hydrogen peroxide? He got me, he got me." And he flopped down in a chair.
I laughed at him. "You seem to know the names of a lot of medicines. Would someone bring him some water?"
It was Milo that brought the water. He sprinkled it liberally on the yellow shirt until Destupago stood up, soaked from his knees to his chest. To disguise is discomfort, he boldly said, "I must go now. Please drink your fill." And he quickly ran out into the plain. Temo, the man in the summer frock coat and four or five others hurried after him. Once they were gone, everyone suddenly felt much livelier.
"Well fought, Fazelo. Who's the man with you?"
"He lives at the race track."
"What's going on here tonight?" I asked.
"Well, that Wildcat fellow is getting ready for teh election next year. He thought up this Polano Square where you can drink wine free."
"Since spring he's been going around here and there getting people to come together and drink."
"This same wine?"
"Let's not talk about him. Will you have a glass?"
"No, thanks. We don't drink."
"Well, good night."
I was disgusted with the place. "Let's go, Fazelo. Let's go home."
Irushed out into the plain. Fazelo came right behind me. The rest chattered noisily behind us. The orchestra started playing another song, and we could hear the voice of someone making a speech. The two of us set our sights on the lights of Morio, and hurried toward them through the pearlwort lights. A pale moon in its 22nd day was resting quietly on a bank of clouds. When I glanced back, the alder trees and their lights looked small, and the milky way was stretched across the west, and the reddish star in Scorpio was up in the south.
Before long we arrived at the point where the three of us had parted the last time.
"Are you going back to Temo's?" I asked with concern.
"Yes. My sister is there," Fazelo said in a voice weighed down with sadness.
"Right, but they're liable to harrass you."
"They'd go after my sister if I didn't return." The tears finally came.
"Shall I go with you?"
"No." He was still crying a little.
"Will you come to my place?"
"No."
"What will we do, then?"
Fazelo was silent for a moment, but suddenly spoke with some vigor. "It's okay. It will be all right. Temo won't be that bad."
As I thought vaguely of my work at the office the next day, a fault I have as a civil servant, I decided that Fazelo was probably right.
"If that's the case, then all right. Let me know if anything happens."
"I may come for help for my sister."
"That will be okay."
"Goodbye, then."
Fazelo headed south, pulling a long, dark shadow across the pearlworts. I started home, but kept looking back at him.
When I got back, my early evening glass of tartaric acid was sitting on the table,
the light was burning, and the clock by my pillow showed two o'clock.
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