He doesn't know anything about Petrovich, Ma Nuria does, Petrovich is the chief of our guard, he is a bald old man in thick glasses with false teeth and with diamond formations on his uiniform coat. He clacks his teeth, still, he convinces me that he will never remain alone, and I am sure I could reply to him appropriately, I just don't want to spoil the relationship. Petrovich is a widower without children, first I thought that he would invite me and children to his dacha, he has apples and strawberry there, he makes jams and juices, what for is it all just for himself, but he says that he manages to eat it all during winters, but I think that in reality he has someone else.

"What for do you need this old sod?" asks Ma Nuria. "All the use is that he lets you go from duty sometimes."

He really lets me go from duty when I have to launder, still, he could also give me an umbrella as when my girlfriend offered me an extra ticket to a rock-concert lately and I had made a hair-do, but it started raining, I appeared at the concert wet as an otter.

So once I decide: either he gives me an umbrella or I send him to the devil, I tell Ma Nuria about it and Ma Nuria says:"Right", rubs her red eyes as she looks at the indicator on the control panel all shift long as Petrovich demands, takes her bags and goes home bow-legged. And I look at the indicator and think what an umbrella I should get soon, but on the next day hot water is given to our loft, and I decide to ask Petrovich for leave last time and to talk to him about an umbrella sometime later. But when Petrovich lets me go and I come home, those vermins from our municipal operating department cut off water again and I decide to return to work and to talk about an umbrella that day.

But having opened our guards-room I am rooted to the ground -- Petrovich has settled on the same duty coach , the only difference is that this time he is with Ma Nuria. And Ma Nuria took the discharge the day before as she was going to leave for her sister's to plant a kitchen-garden there. And it immediately penetrates to me that she does not go to any sister at all, but works at Petrovich's dacha, and it vexes me so much that I tell her:"Ah, you old shit!" and she, putting her dress in order, clucks:" It's not my fault!", and Petrovich, having cleared his throat, says:"You were let go laundering -- then go and launder!"

But I grasp his pistol and uniform pants from the table and, having made a try to get it, he flies back to the couch as a dandelion. I ask him:"Why are there unauthorized people at the guarding post, why is legal weapon out of place and control-panel unwatched?" and with these words I go to the phone to call bosses at the central office. And while I am dialing the number Ma Nuria starts to lament:"It is not my fault, I always follow authorities' orders!", and Petrovich even grows white from malice, he wonders whispering what is really my intent. And having stopped dialing immediately I tell him that my intent is to get a hundred rubles for a Chineze umbrella, and he thrusts his hand into his purse silently and, having got the money, I throw his pants and pistol to him and shut the door.

I run home pleased how nice it all turned out that day: I have time to launder yet as they still give the water, and in celebration of it I also make it up with my drunkard as he promises me to code himself and to start saving for furniture instead of drinking. I feed him with soup, having overeaten, he falls into bed , and I run to the bazaar and buy a Chinese umbrella. On my way back I meet Ma Nuria, she is dashing to Petrovich's dacha with her seedlings and rucksack, and she tells me that there are real Japaneze umbrellas on sale at the railway station for three hundreds, that I had to ask him for three hundreds, he would give it to me. "It's OK," I think, trying not to be upset. "What to do, live and learn..."