A Night in the Cemetery

DEATH OF AN OFFICE WORKER

One wonderful evening, an office gofer, Mr. Ivan Dmitrievich Worm, sat in the second row of a theater, watching the play Bells of Cornville. He watched the play and felt himself at the height of bliss. But suddenly …

Many stories have that phrase, “but suddenly.” Authors are right: life is filled with unexpected turns of events.

But suddenly, he scowled, rolled his eyes upward, stopped breathing for a while, averted his gaze from his binoculars, bent his body and, and then, “Achoo!” he sneezed, as you see.

Everyone is allowed to sneeze. All kind of people sneeze: peasants, police chiefs; even secret councilors do it sometimes. Anyone can sneeze.

Mr. Worm was not confounded; he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and, being a polite man, looked around to make sure he had not disturbed anyone with his sneezing. At this point he did become confounded. He saw an old man sitting right in front of him, in the first row, diligently wiping his bald head with a glove and mumbling to himself. Mr. Worm instantly realized that the old man was the state general Whining, who served at the Ministry of Railways.

“I sneezed on him; I spewed my saliva all over his head!” Mr. Worm thought. “He is somebody else’s boss, not mine; but I do feel rather uncomfortable. I must apologize.”

Mr. Worm cleared his throat, leaned his body forward, and whispered in the general’s ear:

“Excuse me, Your Honor, for sneezing on you; I did not mean it.”

“Quite all right; think nothing of it.”

“Please do forgive me, for heaven’s sake. I did not—I did not intend to do it.”

“Please, do be quiet. I want to hear the play.”

Mr. Worm became even more confused, forced a stupid smile, and turned his gaze to the stage. He watched the play but got no more pleasure from it. He felt anxious.

During the intermission, he approached Mr. Whining, cornered him, and then, fighting his shyness, mumbled, “I spit at you, Your Honor. I did not mean it. So please forgive me, dear sir.”

“Please stop this. I have already forgotten it, and you still remember? Please let it go,” the general said, impatiently twitching his lower lip.

“He’s forgotten, but he has this evil look in his eyes,” thought Mr. Worm, looking suspiciously at the general. “He doesn’t even want to talk to me. I must explain to him that I didn’t intend to do it; it’s the law of nature. Otherwise he might think I did it on purpose. He won’t think about it right now, but he might later on.”

When Mr. Worm came home, he told his wife the story of his ignorance. It seemed to him that his wife paid too little attention to the event; at first she was alarmed, but then, after she found that the general was from another ministry, she calmed down.

“But, anyway, you ought to go ask for forgiveness,” she said. “Otherwise he might think you don’t know how to behave in public.”

“That’s it; that’s exactly how I feel. I apologized to the general, but he behaved somewhat strangely. He said nothing definite. And besides, we didn’t have enough time to talk then.”

The next day, Mr. Worm put on his new uniform coat, cut his hair, and went to Whining to explain and apologize. When he entered the general’s waiting room he saw many visitors, and then the general himself, surrounded by the crowd. After the general had spoken to a few people, he lifted his eyes to Mr. Worm.

“Your Honor, you might remember me. Yesterday, at the Arcadia Theater,” the executor reported, “I sneezed, and then, quite by chance, I dropped it on you.”

“What a trifle, for heaven’s sake! What are you going on about? How can I help you?” the general addressed the next visitor.

“He doesn’t even want to talk to me,” thought Mr. Worm, turning pale. “He must be angry with me. No, I can’t leave this in such a state. I will explain everything to him in a moment.”

When the general finished talking to the last visitor and turned to go into the back room, Mr. Worm stepped up to him and mumbled, “Your Honor! If I dare impose on your time, sir, it is only due to the feelings of remorse I am experiencing at the moment. I did not do it on purpose, sir.”

The general made a sour face and waved his hand in the air.

“You mock me, sir!” he said, taking cover behind the door.

“What mockery?” thought Mr. Worm. “It’s nothing of the kind. The general just didn’t get it! I won’t apologize to him anymore, the freak. Forget that. I’ll write him a letter, but I’m not going to go to see him in person again.”

Mr. Worm thought about it all the way home. He did not write a letter to the general. He thought about the text of the letter, but could not make up his mind what to write. So, he had to go see the general in person the next day.

“Yesterday I dared disturb Your Honor,” he started mumbling when the general lifted his inquiring eyes to him. “But I did not do so with the purpose of mocking you, as Your Honor informed me. I was merely apologizing for sneezing and dropping my sneeze upon you; I did not at all plan to mock you. How could I dare mock you?

“If we simple people should start mocking important persons, then there would be no respect for such persons, and then, you know—”

“Get out of here! Get out!” yelled the general at the top of his voice, his face turning blue and his body trembling.

“What did you say, sir?” asked Mr. Worm in a whisper, frozen with terror.

“Get out!” repeated the general, and stomped his foot with rage.

Suddenly something broke in Mr. Worm’s heart. Hearing and seeing nothing, he backed out to the door, went out into the street, and dragged himself home. He got home mechanically, and, without taking off his official uniform coat, lay down on the sofa and died.