Tanya Grotter And The Magic Double Bass. Дмитрий Емец

they tell you: don’t touch anything! Here I’ll call security now… Where’s the teacher?” she yelled louder than the siren.

      “Please don’t pay any attention! She’s with us, a character, a fool! Her papa is a convict,” Lena Mumrikova barged in, emaciated, a girl cast in unhealthy green, the chief among Pipa’s toadies.

      “Shut up, green toad!” Tanya exclaimed, not recognizing her own voice.

      She terribly wanted to attach Mumrikova’s nose to the glass so that the surveillance would snap to action once more, but it was not possible to do this because the supervisor continued to hold her tight.

      Fortunately, instead of Irina Vladimirovna, who for sure would tell tales to the Durnevs, gym teacher Prikhodkin, falling over, approached them.

      “You’re what? Her teacher?” the supervisor asked mistrustfully.

      “Aha! It’s my teacher! Beloved, from the very first class,” Tanya immediately confirmed.

      “And you keep quiet!” the supervisor bellowed. “I’m asking the man: are you the teacher?”

      “Yes…” confirmed Prikhodkin.

      “Eh-eh, if so…” the supervisor stupidly fixed her eyes on the stomach of the gym teacher. It was enormous, as if Prikhodkin swallowed a ball, and involuntarily inspired respect. “Then here’s what we’ll do: please hold this, your teenybopper, and don’t let go! Don’t dare let her touch anything!” she decided.

      “I’m already taking her away.”

      The huge fingers of Prikhodkin closed like a steel handcuff on the wrist of the girl. He dragged her like a kid after himself along the halls for a while, but then for some reason he needed his hand. He unclenched his fingers and released Tanya. She hurriedly ran off several steps and turned, checking whether he would remember about her. But the gym teacher only absent-mindedly fumbled with his fingers somewhere below as if vaguely recollecting that he was holding something, and began to stomp after the class.

      Then he paused for a moment and – possibly, it only seemed to Tanya – in a friendly way winked at her. Tanya was grateful to this scattered-brained stout person. Furthermore, she recalled that in his classes Prikhodkin always treated her rather well and called her “Baby Grotter” as a joke: “If you would all run the hundred-metre like Baby Grotter!” Or: “Today we have the long jump. Baby Grotter will show us how it should be done…”

      They passed more halls and, according to the internal placement of the museum having traced a semicircle, they again found themselves not far from the exit. Here the guide whispered something to the teacher, looked sourly at the children, and left.

      “Attention! Everyone look at me! Now you can wander along the halls independently. We’re meeting here in ten minutes! And remember what I said: don’t touch anything, don’t grab, and don’t mark! Mumrikova, don’t you dare throw candy wrappers into the Chinese vase! It was not made for that five hundred years ago!” Irina Vladimirovna shouted.

      The classmates wandered off in the Armoury, but the majority dashed into the gift shop to buy souvenirs and postcards. Tanya, willingly separating from the class, again set off for the hall where the sword was. After all, she wanted to look at it again, if the supervisor would not drive her away.

      Unexpectedly, the birthmark on Tanya’s nose started to hurt, as if someone was scorching it with a match. Such a thing had never happened before. Grimacing, Tanya rushed to the nearest mirror in a heavy ancient frame. The birthmark seemed to her especially ugly at this moment, like a lump of buckwheat porridge sticking to the tip of her nose. How she hated it at this moment!

      “Get off from my nose! I tell you – there!” she shouted to the birthmark.

      Suddenly a terrible howl was heard, eardrums could burst from it. It seemed all the sirens in the Armoury simultaneously snapped into action. Lights began to blink. Running into the hall, Tanya saw that there was an enormous gap in the glass of the display case, the sword had disappeared, and the supervisor so like a gorilla was lying in a formless heap on the floor. At that moment when Tanya entered, the narrow little pane on the lattice window of the museum slammed shut. However, the hall, even without that, was full of noise.

      Tanya froze fearfully. The stamping of many feet was already heard in the corridors. Remembering that they would find her here, the girl wanted to run out fast but she was too late. Into the hall ran the guards, the guide, workers of the museum, Prikhodkin and Irina Vladimirovna, and a good half of the class.

      Rushing to the broken display case, they froze wonder-struck. Others attempted to switch off the siren and bring the supervisor round.

      “Stolen! What was in this case?” someone shouted.

      “The gold sword!” the round-shouldered guide said with infinite despondency in his voice. “And what do you think: for forty years already I’ve been tormented by the pr-remonition that this would happen one day. About seventeen years ago I even shared my considerations with the now deceased director.”

      “It’s that same sword that Grotter touched! She was the very first here!” Lena Mumrikova began to bawl suddenly.

      “It wasn’t me!” Tanya shouted, but almost no one was listening to her. And even if they did, they did not believe her.

      A ring of people surrounded Tanya, staring at her. No one walked up close to her, as if she was a leper. At this moment, the supervisor opened her eyes slightly. On seeing Tanya, she groaned, “Again this girl!” and fainted again.

      Tanya sensed that she was blushing, moreover she was not simply blushing but had become crimson, exactly like a tomato. She attempted to justify herself, but no one was listening to her.

      “Excellent! I don’t believe my eyes! Grotter swiped the gold sword!” Genka Bulonov exclaimed, almost choking from such enthusiasm and sticking chewing gum on the throne.

      “It wasn’t me!” Tanya shouted.

      “Shut up! There was no one else in the hall! Search her!” Lena Mumrikova shouted.

      Tanya, sweaty and bewildered, moved back, flying with her back against Irina Vladimirovna.

      “Grotter! Tatiana! What horror! What disgrace! How could you?” she clucked.

      “Really, will no one stand up for me?” Tanya thought with horror, but then as if through a fog she heard the voice of the gym teacher Prikhodkin, “I’ll not allow her to be searched! She was with me all the time! And how could she knock down this hippo?” he said in a bass voice, nodding at the supervisor lying on the floor, who again began to raise her head.

      “Oh-oh-oh… The hippo himself… I’m dying…” she groaned and carefully, in order not to hurt the back of her head, fainted anew.

      Squeezing through the crowd, a mean confident person approached Tanya.

      “Lieutenant Colonel Chuchundrikov. Security service,” he introduced himself. “Come with me!”

      Tanya dejectedly trudged right behind, sensing how behind her the amazed and simultaneously enraptured classmates were dragging themselves along like a split herd. How do you like that – a demure Grotter and suddenly she did such a thing!

      They turned to the right, once again to the right, and descended the short stairs going down. The mean person brought Tanya to the high plastic arch.

      “Go through the detector!” he ordered.

      Tanya, shrugging her shoulders, took a step through the arch. She knew that she had nothing. An instant – and the detector literally began to shake from ringing. The eyebrows of the mean little fellow predatorily went up.

      “Take out keys and all metallic objects,” he ordered.

      Tanya fearfully took out keys and again took a step into the arch. The detector again began to shake.

      “Well, that’s it, Grotter, the end for you! The sky in a cell, friends in stripes! You will run errands for someone for apple cores and toothpaste tubes!” Mumrikova shouted.

      “Quiet!”