The Best Short Stories 2022 by Valeria Luiselli & Jenny Minton Quigley

Author:Valeria Luiselli & Jenny Minton Quigley [Luiselli, Valeria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2022-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

PRAGMAS

JOINT-STOCK COMPANY

She went in through the door. A security guard in a black uniform was creeping around in the large, bright entryway, and a young receptionist sat behind the desk.

“Hello, who are you here to see?” she asked with a smile.

“I’m here to see your…boss,” Olya said, and realized that she had forgotten Horse Soup’s last name, remembering only his first: Boris.

“We have two of those.” The receptionist smiled. “Do you want to see the director or the chairman?”

“I’m here for Boris—” Olya began.

“Boris Ilyich?” the receptionist interrupted her. “Does he know you’re here?”

“No. It’s…a personal matter.”

“You’re lucky he’s in. Who shall I say is here to see him?”

“Just say it’s Olya.”

“OK.” The receptionist picked up the phone. “Marina Vasilievna, I have a visitor here for Boris Ilyich on a personal matter. Her name’s Olya…Yes, just Olya.”

The receptionist waited for a minute, nodding politely at Olya, then put down the phone.

“You can go up now. Second floor. Last office on your right.”

Olya climbed the marble staircase with no trouble, but in the hallway she became dizzy and had to lean against the wall for support.

“Please don’t kick me out, Horse Soup…”

Coming back to her senses, she made her way to Burmistrov’s waiting room.

“Head on in, Boris Ilyich is waiting for you.” His secretary opened the door.

Olya walked into the office holding her breath. Burmistrov was sitting at his desk and talking on the phone. He took a quick look at Olya, raised his index finger, and began to stand up from his chair as he finished his conversation.

“I’m telling you for the third time—they don’t need gas masks, they only need the metal things and the filters, do you understand? What? Well, tell him to stick those masks up his ass! What? What??? Vitya! Were you born yesterday or something? Just get twenty suckers, put ’em on the barge, and they’ll take it apart in a day! Throw the masks over the side. End of conversation. Goodbye.”

He slammed down the phone.

Olya was standing in the center of his office.

Burmistrov walked around his desk with a frown, moved over to Olya, and stared at her silently for a long time. Olya’s lips and knees were shaking.

“So, were you trying to cash in your chips?” he asked her good-naturedly, and slapped her across the face.

Olya fell to the floor, completely exhausted.

“How many days has it been since you last ate?”

“Four…Five…,” she mumbled.

“Idiot!” He picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Polina Andreyevna? Hello. I need you today. Yes. Please get there as fast as you can, start cooking right now. We’ll see you in…how much time do you need? Let’s say an hour. Yes. Thank you.”

Still on the floor, Olya sat up.

“Sit over there.” Burmistrov nodded at two armchairs by a coffee table.

She stood up, walked over, and sat down.

Burmistrov sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest.

“Where were you?”

“I was traveling with my husband.”

“You got married?”

“Yes.”

“What was the last thing you ate?”

“I…don’t remember…lobster.”

“Tasty…You fuckin’ idiot.

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