Chapter 10

The sun was not visible, but it was still getting very hot. I felt thirsty again. But despite the forest on both sides of our path being green, we didn’t see a river anywhere.

We were walking and walking. Kuzya managed to tell me about a dozen stories about dogs, cats, and mice. It turns out that he is closely acquainted with Lucy’s cat, named Topsy. I always got the impression that Topsy was very sluggish and boring. Moreover, her meow sounded more like a cry. She wouldn’t stop meowing until you gave her something to eat. And I don’t like beggars.

Kuzya told me that Topsy was also a thief. Kuzya swore that it was she who stole a large piece of pork from my mom last week. My mother thought that it was him and whipped him with a wet kitchen towel. To Kuzya, it wasn’t as painful, as it was insulting. And Topsy overate so much stolen pork that she got sick. Lucy’s grandmother had to take her to the vet. When I get back, I will open Lucy’s eyes on her cute little kitty. I’ll definitely expose this Topsy.

We were so involved in our conversation that we did not notice approaching some interesting city. The houses were round, almost like a circus tent, or square, or even shaped like a triangle. There were absolutely no people in the streets.

Our ball rolled into the street of the strange city and froze. We went up to a big cube and stopped in front of it. Two tiny little men in white coats and hats were selling sparkling water. There was a plus sign embroidered on the hat of one of them, while the other one had a minus sign.

“Tell me,” Kuzya asked timidly, “do you have any real water?”

“Positive,” the Plus answered. “Would you like a drink?”

Kuzya licked his lips. We really wanted to drink, but I didn’t have a dime on me and Kuzya — even less so.

“I have no money,” I admitted to the sellers.

“We don’t sell water for money, but instead — for correct answers.” Minus gave us a sly squint and asked: “Seven times nine?”

“Seven times nine… seven times nine…” I muttered, “it seems like thirty-seven.”

“Doesn’t seem like it to me,” said Minus. “The answer is negative.”

“Can you give it to me for free?” Kuzya asked. “I am a cat. I’m not required to know the multiplication table.”

Both sellers took out some books, papers, carefully read them through and announced to Kuzya that they have no orders to provide free drinks for illiterate cats. All that was left for Kuzya was to lick his lips.

A bicyclist rode up to the water cart.

“Water! Quick!” he shouted from the bike. “I’m in a hurry!”

“Seven times seven?” asked Minus as he handed him a glass of pink sparkling water.

“Forty-nine,” the cyclist answered, drank the water on the go, and sped off.

I asked the sellers about him. Plus said that he was a famous bicycle racer, who checks homework problems in arithmetic.

I was so thirsty. Especially looking at containers with cool pink water that stood before my eyes. I couldn’t stand it any longer and asked for another question.

“Eight times nine,” minus asked and poured a glass of water. It hissed and sparkled, and the surface was covered with bubbles.

“Seventy-six!” I blurted out, hoping that I would hit bullseye.

“Missed,” Minus said and dumped the water on the ground. It was terribly unpleasant to watch this wonderful water soak into the pavement.

Kuzya began to purr at the sellers’ feet, begging them to ask his master the easiest, absolutely simplest question that any idiot could answer. I shouted at him to stop. He paused and the salesmen looked at each other mockingly.

“Two times two,” Plus asked with a fake smile.

“Four,” I answered angrily. For some reason, I was very ashamed of myself. I drank half the glass and gave the rest of it to Kuzya.

Oh, the water tasted so good! Even Aunt Lyubasha never sold anything like this. But there was so little water that I could not even figure out what kind of syrup was being used to flavor it.

The bicyclist appeared on the road once again. He quickly turned the pedals and sang:

I’m riding, riding, riding,

I’m young and energetic.

I travel ‘round the globe,

Flying faster than a bird.

This job is never tiring,

As I can cycle far,

A hundred thousand kilometers,

I can brush off like a car.

The cyclist rode past us and gave us a nod. To me, it seemed like he was just showing off his bravery and tirelessness. I was about to say this to Kuzya, when I noticed that the cat was very frightened by something. His fur shot straight up, his back was arched. I wasn’t aware of any dogs around here.

“Hide, hide me quick!” Kuzya cried. “I am afraid… I see…”

I glanced around, but I didn’t notice anything next to us. Kuzya was trembling, however, and insisted that he saw… legs.

“Whose legs?” I asked, surprised.

“That’s the point, they’re nobody’s,” answered the cat. “And I am deathly afraid of legs that exist by themselves, without a master.”

And it was true… A pair of legs was walking down the road. These were large men’s legs in old shoes and dirty work pants with bulging pockets. The belt held up the pants in midair and there was nothing at the top.

The Legs approached me and stopped. I suddenly felt uneasy.

“And where is the rest of you?” I decided to ask. “The part above the belt?”

The Legs marched in place for a little bit and stopped.

“Excuse me, Legs… Are you alive?” I asked again.

The Legs swayed back and forth. This probably meant ‘yes’. Kuzya growled and snorted. These Legs scared him.

“These are very dangerous Legs,” he hissed. “They ran away from their master. Decent Legs never do that. These are bad Legs. Homeless Legs. The…”

The cat didn’t have a chance to finish, as the right leg gave him a hefty kick. Kuzya flew off to the side, meowing at the top of his lungs.

“You see, you see?!” he yelled, dusting himself off. “These Legs are evil, move as far away from them as you can!”

Kuzya wanted to approach the Legs from behind, but they were quicker than him and he got another kick. The cat screamed at the top of his lungs, more from the insult of having gotten kicked twice than the pain. To calm him down, I picked him up and began to scratch his chin and forehead. He loves when people do that.

A man came out of a triangular house. He was wearing the same exact work pants and shoes as the Legs. As the man approached the Legs, he muttered:

“Don’t venture far from me, comrade. You’ll get lost.”

I really wanted to find out what happened to this comrade’s top half.

“Did he get run over by a train?” I asked.

“He was a construction worker, just like me,” the man answered with sadness in his voice. “And a train didn’t run him over. It was a fourth-grade student, Viktor Perestukin.”

This was crazy! Kuzya whispered to me:

“Isn’t it better for us to get out of here, while we’re still in one piece?”

I glanced at the ball. It wasn’t moving at all.

“It’s bad for adults to lie,” I told the construction worker. “How could Viktor Perestukin cut a man in half? That’s ridiculous.”

The construction worker sighed.

“You don’t know the whole story. This Victor Perestukin stated in a solution to one of his problems that this ditch was dug by only one and a half construction workers. So, only half of my friend was left…”

I suddenly remembered the linear meters problem. The construction worker let out another heavy sigh and asked whether I had a good heart. How was I to know? No one has ever brought it up to me. True, my mother sometimes claimed that I had no heart at all, but I didn’t believe her. There was definitely something ticking on the inside.

“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.

“If you had a good heart,” the construction worker said, “you would have pity on my poor friend and would try to help him. All that is necessary is to solve the problem correctly. He will, once again, become what he was before.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll try, but what if I am not able to solve the problem?”

The construction worker dug through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. On it, I had written the solution to the problem. I started thinking about it. What if I can’t solve it, just like before? What if the solution turns out to be one and a quarter construction workers? Then, only one of his legs will remain. I got queasy from these thoughts.

I remembered the advice that was given to me by the Comma. I calmed down a little. I will only think about the problem. I will solve it slowly. And I will reason it through, just as the Exclamation Mark taught me.

I looked over at the Plus and Minus. They smiled and winked at each other with their round eyes. I resented them for not giving me any water. I stuck out my tongue at them, which neither surprised or offended them. They probably just didn’t understand what I meant.

“What is your opinion of the boy, Brother Minus?” asked Plus.

“Negative,” Minus answered. “And yours, Brother Plus?”

“Positive,” said the Plus sourly.

I think that he lied. But after hearing their conversation, I firmly decided to finish the problem. I had to think only about the problem and nothing else. I reasoned, reasoned, and reasoned, until the problem was solved. I was so happy to have finished it! It turned out that digging the trench required not one and a half, but two whole construction workers.

“Looks like you need two construction workers!” I announced to the construction workers.

As I said this, the Legs immediately turned into a construction worker. He looked exactly like his brother. Both of them bowed to me and said:

In work and in life,

We wish you the best.

Learn always, through strife,

Not giving problems a rest!

Both Plus and Minus threw their hats into the air and shouted cheerfully:

“Five times five, twenty-five! Six times six, thirty-six!”

“You are my savior!” shouted the second construction worker.

“The Great Mathematician!” his comrade screamed out with delight. “If you ever meet Viktor Perestukin, please tell him that he is a very bad, angry little boy!”

“He’ll be sure to pass it on,” Kuzya teased.

I promised that I would pass it on. Otherwise, the construction workers would have never left me alone.

Of course, I didn’t like the fact that I got scolded at the very end, but I was still very pleased with myself that I had solved such a difficult problem all on my own. After all, even Lucy’s grandmother could not solve it. And she’s definitely the most capable of all the grandmothers in our class, at least as far as arithmetic is concerned. Maybe I already started developing a character? That would be great!