A Night in the Cemetery

CONVERSATION OF A DRUNKEN MAN WITH A SOBER DEVIL

A retired office worker, Mr. Scruffy (Lakhmatov in Russian) sat at his dinner table, drinking his sixteenth shot of vodka while meditating on equality and liberty. Suddenly, a devil looked out at him from behind a table lamp. Now do not be afraid, dear reader. Do you know what a devil is?

This one was a young, well-dressed man with an ugly face as black as a chimney and red, expressive eyes. Even if he is not married, a devil has a pair of horns on his head. His body is covered with green hair and has a doglike smell. Under his back hangs a tail ending in a pointing arrow head. He has claws instead of fingers and horse’s hooves instead of feet. Mr. Scruffy grew a little confused after noticing the devil, but then he remembered that green devils tend to appear to all who are drunk, and so he grew calmer.

“With whom do I have the honor?” he addressed the uninvited guest.

The devil grew confused and lowered his eyes.

“Please, do not be shy,” continued Mr. Scruffy. “Come closer, please. I am a man without prejudice. You can speak frankly with me, without holding back. Who are you?”

The devil cautiously walked over to Mr. Scruffy, and tucking his tail under him, bowed with respect. “I am a devil,” he introduced himself. “I work as a special envoy under the leadership of His Honor, the director of the Administration of Hell, Mr. Satan.”

“I have heard of him. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Take a seat. Would you like a shot of vodka? What is your occupation?”

The devil grew even more confused.

“Frankly speaking, I am not employed at the moment,” he answered, coughing in embarrassment and wiping his nose. “I did have a job some time ago. We were tempting people, seducing them from the path of goodness. Between us, this occupation is not worth a penny. There is no path of good—it does not exist anymore among humans, and so there is nothing to seduce people away from. Besides, people have now become smarter than we are. How can you possibly seduce a person who graduated from college and has seen so much in this world? How can I teach someone how to steal a penny if he, without my help, has already stolen thousands, or even millions?”

“Yes, I agree with that. However, do you do anything special at all?”

“Yes, I do. My old position is mainly a symbolic one. Yet, we do some work. We tempt female junior school teachers, entice the youth to write poetry, and lure young businessmen to break mirrors and windows in public after their parties. I must share that we have not interfered in politics, literature, or science for a long time. We do not understand anything in those areas anymore. Despite this, many of us are working as journalists, and some guys quit working full time in hell and are undercover as humans. Those are the retired devils with different professions—some are lawyers, some are editors and publishers—all very solid, clever, and well-respected people.”

“Can you excuse my very personal question—what kind of salary do you get at present?”

“We receive the same as before. Nothing has changed with our pay arrangements. All our expenses, such as lodging, food, and utilities, are paid by the company. However, we are not paid in cash, as we are considered volunteers. You see, a devil is an honorary position. To tell you the truth, our life is hard, and sometimes I feel as if I am a pauper asking for small change. Thanks to humans, we have learned to take bribes. Otherwise, we would have died out a long time ago. So, we live on our small income—giving some supplies and food to the sinners and earning funds via bribes. You see, Satan is getting older, and often hits the nightclubs to see the exotic dancers, and is not taking the time to do proper bookkeeping.”

Mr. Scruffy poured another shot of vodka for the devil. He swiftly drank it and grew more talkative. He shared all the secrets of hell, unburdened his heart, and cried for quite a while. Mr. Scruffy liked him so much that he invited him to spend the night as his guest at his place.

The devil accepted. He slept next to the heater, the whole time talking in his sleep as he experienced nightmares. By dawn, he had disappeared.