DMYTRO BONDARENKO
The official site of Ukrainian writer of fiction
The official site of Ukrainian writer of fiction
DMYTRO BONDARENKO
українська
Dmytro Bondarenko, 'The Seventeenth Floor'
3 page
3
In the evening, Kostya stayed at his office for ‘additional work’. At least that’s what he told his wife. In reality, he sat on a bench downtown and laid a bunch of newspapers around himself. He took out his mobile phone.
‘Hello, please tell m-m-m-me... where am I calling?’ He felt a lump in his throat. He was so excited he could hardly speak.
‘Oh, you are calling exactly where you want, I think!’ a girlish voice replied in a very sweet and friendly way, immediately making Kostya feel greatly relieved.
‘Oh... please tell me... e-e-e... how much it costs... well, this is...’
‘Fifty dollars.’
‘Wow!’ Kostya thought. He obviously did not expect such an amount.
‘Fifty dollars for the fee, plus a sauna and taxi.’
‘Wait, wait!’ Kostya was pretty excited. ‘What sauna? I do not want any sauna... and I am not using a taxi. Sorry, maybe you did not understand me? I just want...’
‘Mister!’ The sweet voice on the phone was obviously becoming a salty one: ‘I understand very well what you want. But we are not some kind of dirty place here. Our girls have dates with their guests only in the sauna.’
‘Okay, sorry then. I am sorry...’ Kostya hurried to finish the conversation. ‘Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye. Call us next time.’
Kostya sighed heavily and hung up. He looked at the stack of promotional papers that lay before him now. Most of the newspapers were opened to the second-to-last page.
‘Leisure for men’, ‘A beautiful fairy will give an unforgettable experience for lonely Don Juans’, ‘A passionate black girl will arrange an African safari in your bed’.
There were a lot of similar ads, so at last Kostya decided to make a call to another number.
At the next place, fortunately, payment for a sauna was not required, but ‘the fun’ was more expensive—sixty greenbacks.
‘Hmm’, Kostya thought with a heavy heart before hanging up again. ‘These things are too expensive for me’.
But he decided to go to a brothel that day anyway. He knew he had no choice, whatever it cost him! After all, as he had seen already, any delay could turn out very badly for him. He could even end up in prison! But he had already chosen for himself the lesser of two evils.
Finally, after making calls to a lot of brothels, he found a more or less acceptable place. Only thirty bucks, no saunas, and close to downtown. As they said on the phone, you could go whenever you wanted. They worked around the clock.
It was a two-story house in a ‘silent’ part of downtown, and it was one of the buildings people usually call ‘katerynka’. It was built most likely in the second part of the 19th century, and, regardless of its age, it still looked pretty decent. The updated red bricks and elegant architecture of the house were pleasing to the eye. Only a few large cracks in the walls slightly spoiled the overall impression.
They did not tell him the number of the apartment on the phone. They asked him to call again when he reached the house, saying: ‘Then one of our girls will come out and bring you here’.
Hm, secrecy! So they were really afraid.
The Seventeenth Floor: a story of a husband who loved his wife but dreamed of other women
ratings: 38 (avg rating 2.92)
Already standing near the ‘katerynka’, Kostya took out his cell phone. But now every time he dialed the number, it failed. The line was permanently busy.
‘Damn!’ Kostya spat. Suddenly, half a dozen motley-dressed girls appeared on the porch of the house. ‘They are whores!’ Kostya understood at first sight.
The girls with their very bright makeup flashed past him very quickly and got into an old Ukrainian-made car called a ‘Tavria’. How they could all fit into such a small car was a real mystery to Kostya. In any case, the car had vanished without a trace within the next few seconds.
He hurried to make the call again on his mobile. The girl who answered seemed to speak uncertainly:
‘Yes, but... well... now... m-m-m... Now I will send for you...’
‘Okay. I'm waiting’, said Kostya. He suddenly became very excited again.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. After seventeen minutes he could not stand it any longer.
‘Hello, it’s me again! How long should I expect you to take? I am already here under your porch, and I’ve been here for almost half an hour.’
Kostya suddenly became very angry. Oh! If only he saw what apartment the girls just left, he would not wait there any longer—he would burst into the rooms!
‘Mm... sorry. Now. Now I will send for you.’
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@ Dmytro Bondarenko 2016- 2024