Archive. "Influence People". Traps of Nature. Trap XVI
I like reading, watching science fiction, mysticism. I have heard, watched and read a lot about magic.
And suddenly I realized why the victims of magic do not roam the streets. And why the world is not ruled by sorcerers.
Please note that these events are taking place in the country I came up with. Moreover, in the world that I have created ...
Trap XVI
At the time this strange incident happened, I was studying at the same institute. Now the profile of the institute, its location is not important.
On that remarkable day, I defended my master's thesis.
I am a person of modest academic talents, I didn’t study well at school, I spent time reading books, and in high school I got carried away with music recordings.
But as my math teacher used to say, "He can when He want."
Well, then I could.
All members of the commission recognized my master's thesis as a worthy doctoral degree. With the enthusiastic support of the audience. A lot of people came to see my dissertation presentation.
Spiritualized as if on wings, I flew out of the audience.
Walking along the corridor, I accidentally heard the rumble of laughter coming from the accounting department. And the exclamation of the rector's wife: "What doctor of sciences is he ?! He cannot hammer a nail! ..."
I shrugged and walked on. I was now a Doctor of Science, and my dissertation was in the medical field. Nail?!
"Nail ... Nail ... Naaaaa ..." I hummed as I continued walking down the corridor.
Stop! Well, of course! I remembered what it has to do with ...
Short Introduction 1
After school, I tried to go to institute. It's unfortunate. My preparation was so-so ... By the way, sometimes I sit at the computer with a nostalgic, indulgent smile. Do you know what my specialty would be if I entered that institute and graduated from it? "Operator of an electronic computer".
So, after the failure with the institute, I began to master professions, trying to somehow break through in life.
I worked in the construction of buildings. By the way, about nails. I worked in construction for a decent amount of time. Slinger. Electrician (graduated from college). Stone mason (finished courses).
And speakin of nails, concrete carpenter. For those who are not in the know. A concrete carpenter spends part of his time building concrete formwork. Nails are used to fasten the formwork. Lots of nails. And I scored them. I scored decently.
Developing the topic. I spent another year mastering the profession of a shoemaker. Graduated from college. I worked in a shoe making workshop. Not for long, a few months. But the norm, 5 pairs of shoes per shift, I did. A shoemaker uses a lot of nails in his work.
So I can say that the hammer was for me, if not an extension of my hand ... But almost there ...
Well, in general, I had the hammer in my hands more than once.
Short Introduction 2
To make it clearer what I’m leading to, it’s a good idea to preface the story with another introduction. Dedicated to how I ended up in a suburban area, in the rector's country house.
A few years before the events described, I, as usual in the summer, did not swim or sunbathe, but prepared the premises of the institute for the beginning of classes. The same institute where I later received my doctorate.
The rector rested at his country house, occasionally arriving for the usual summer set-up meetings with the faculty.
At that time, the institute was in the stage of formation and had only a physical culture and health-improving base and a general education one. There was a lack of a medical component for the complete formation of the educational process.
I attended these classes. And so the talk came about that it would be nice to start training medicine teachers now and without delay to introduce it by the beginning of the school year.
The rector's wife jumped up. After all, it turned out that their summer vacation came to an end, since summer training would require the presence of the rector in the classroom.
"The gallery in my house is collapsing! I propose an exchange. Come and fix the gallery, I will let the rector go to classes."
That's how I got to repair the rector's country house. Or rather gallery. In exchange for the institute to have medicine in its repertoire. But I didn't mind. In fact, I provided classes for myself.
End of intros.
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We repaired the gallery. There were several other male volunteer teachers with me. And one female teacher who prepared food for us.
Then we tweaked the foundation, made a garage for a car trailer. Well, we began to build another new gallery.
In general, we fulfilled our part of the obligations, and the rector spent the whole summer in his studies at the institute. And with a new educational goal, the institute received medicine.
Teachers, one by one, began to disappear from suburban voluntary work. I and the woman (mobilized to prepare the food) remained.
The rector and I were finishing the interior decoration of the new gallery, and the female volunteer helped with weeding potatoes, planting flowers, watering, etc.
And so my story reached its final stage. Let's remember the nail!
On that memorable day ... Not for me. As it turned out, a memorable day for the rector's wife.
So, the rector and I prepared one of the anchoring transverse boards for the far wall of the new gallery. All that remained was to fix this board. With nails.
This gallery wall was adjacent to the neighbors. It was decided to fix the board from the outside in order to bend the tips of the nails from the inside. This is more aesthetically pleasing, since then the bent points will be covered with interior trim. More aesthetic but more inconvenient. As it turned out, I'm more uncomfortable.
In order to attach this board, I had to climb the fence from the neighbors' side. And the fence was right up against the gallery wall. The top of the fence is at the level where I need to attach the board.
The neighbor's dog watched my monkey movements with surprise, so I did not climb into the neighboring territory.
So, I am sitting on the fence. A hammer in one hand. The other hand holds a board of a decent length. With my feet I got as strong a foothold as I could. And my backside is against the sharp top edge.
In this position, I practically had no opportunity to swing.
How did I hold the nails? Well, they were in my pocket.
The board was to be attached to the outer transverse row of boards. And another board was held by the rector, pressing it longitudinally against the wall from the inside. That is, with one nail I have to fasten three boards together.
The fence was flimsy enough. I swayed slightly on it. I tried it on. Go!
It was already dark outside. Light streamed through narrow slits from the gallery. This helped me. Little. But the board that the rector was holding was not visible to me. That is, you will have to fix it almost "at random".
And I hammered the first nail. There was a satisfied cry from the rector. That is, I got it. I was a little surprised. And I continued.
Here it must be added that in addition to everything else, the nails had to pass through the boards not through the middle, but closer to the edge, so as not to split the board.
I continued.
Second nail. Good luck!
Third nail.
Fourth.
Fifth...
Suddenly the sleepy silence of the village was broken by a wild, inhuman cry. The dogs barked. The neighbors' lights came on. The song of the party on the other side of the village died down. A frightened pike splashed in a sleepy river flowing nearby and sank to the bottom.
"Well, judging by the reaction, I pierced the rector with a nail through and through ..." I thought.
The scream, meanwhile, turned into a roar.
"Mi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-s-s-s-ed!"
The nail went past the rector's board.
"Nothing, it happens ..." I immediately calmed down. But the nail stitched together at least two boards reliably.
And, in spite of the still displeased gurgle from behind the wall ("He missed, he missed ..."), I continued.
Sixth.
Seventh.
Eighth.
.........
I was already at the edge of the board, as everything repeated.
The village seems to have begun to get used to it. The pike splashed and paid no attention. The neighbor's dog yawned sleepily.
This time the scream was
"Mi-i-i-i-i-i-i-d-d-dle!"
This time I was not scared. Shrugged. The board is almost fixed. A nail in the middle will not damage it now.
As an encore artist, I made my way back up the fence. With a modest smile, full of well-deserved pride, I entered the gallery.
The very pleased rector enthusiastically folded the ends of the protruding nails.
I admired my work. Not bad, not good ... Everything is almost even. One nail past, one in the middle. Just!
Then I felt cold on my back. Or rather, a cold spreading horror.
With a stupid self-satisfied grin, I half turned.
My smile slipped into nowhere. I was puzzled.
Along the wall, three women stood in a row like soldiers on the parade ground. The only difference is they were holding onto the wall, as I later realized, so as not to fall. The lighting was not very good, but I thought they were very pale. It was the rector's wife, a female volunteer teacher, and the rector's son's wife, who had made a fortunate visit.
"And I feel sorry for him ..." babbled the wife of the rector's son and, in my opinion, began to quietly sink, sliding back along the wall.
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Traps I - XIV on この小説のURL ： https://ncode.syosetu.com/n5782gp/
So, I am writing a book "Influence People. Traps of Nature".
And now I wonder how to get out of all this? In the sense of the traps.
You will be surprised, but there are quite simple exercises that help me to clear my perception.
And then it will become clear to me what to do next.
If interested, look for
"Influence People". Traps of Nature. Self-salvation
on https://mypage.syosetu.com/1864645/
