Destruction service

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 (story)  

The visitor was not to be admitted from the lobby, for Mr. Ferguson received visitors by prior arrangement, with the exception of those who came with very important business. Ferguson was one of those who valued time.

But Mr. Ferguson's secretary, Miss Dale, was young and influential. The visitor was an old man, dressed in a large, expensive suit, with a cane in his hand. Miss Dale, considering him an important figure, led him straight into Mr. Ferguson's room.

"Hello, sir," said the visitor, as Miss Dale closed the door and went out. "My name is Esmond." I'm from the extermination service. ”He handed Ferguson a business card.

"I see," said Ferguson, not hiding his anger at Miss Dale's act. I'm sorry, I don't have anything to destroy. ”He stood up to end the conversation.

- Do you have anything?

-Absolutely. Thank you for coming. I have no paper to destroy.

- In that case, you have a good relationship with the people around you, right?

-What? What does this have to do with you?

"You know, Mr. Ferguson, that's what the extermination service does."

"Don't laugh at me," Ferguson said.

"I'm not laughing," replied Mr. Esmond.

"You mean," Ferguson said with a smile, "you're going to destroy people?"

-Yes. I can’t give any written evidence: we avoid advertising as much as possible. But I can assure you that our firm is reliable.

Ferguson kept his eyes on the visitor. He didn't know whether to believe what he heard or not.

This is definitely a joke. It's obvious to a fool.

It can’t be a joke.

“What do you do with the people you destroy?” Ferguson asked.

"It's our job," said Mr. Esmond. "It's important that they disappear."

-Understandable, Mr. Esmond. What kind of work did I actually have?

"I told you so," said Esmond.

Stop it. This is not a serious matter. I would have called the police if I thought you were talking seriously.

Mr. Esmond stood up with a sigh.

- In that case, you do not need our services. You have a good relationship with your friends, relatives and neighbors, your wife.

- With my wife? What do you know about my wife?

"Nothing, Mr. Ferguson."

- Did you talk to my neighbors? Minor quarrels mean nothing.

“I have no information about your family, Mr. Ferguson,” Esmond said as he sat back in his chair.

"Then why did you mention my wife?"

-According to our calculations, our main income comes from the relationship of couples.

- I have everything in place. My relationship with my wife is excellent.

"So you don't need the extermination service," Mr. Esmond said, holding his staff in his armpit.

"Wait a minute," Ferguson began to walk around the room with his hand behind his back. "You know, I don't believe you." None of them. But let’s say you’re right. Then if I… I want…

“Your verbal consent is enough,” Mr. Esmond said.

- What about payment?

-After the work is done.

"I don't care," Ferguson said hurriedly. "I'm just curious." My wife and I have a good relationship. We have been married for seventeen years. True, marriages can be frustrating.

Mr. Esmond sat quietly listening to him.

"Whether you like it or not, you have to compromise," Ferguson said. "I'm over the age of love, and my goal was to destroy my wife."

"I understand you," said Mr. Esmond.

"That's what I mean," Ferguson continued. "Sometimes I don't want to live with my wife." It's a slap in the face. It breaks my nerves. It hurts. Are you aware of this?

"No," said Mr. Esmond.

-No way! Then why did you come to me?

Mr. Esmond shrugged.

“In any case,” Ferguson said, “I’m past the age where I want to rebuild my life. Let’s say I’m single. Let’s just say I’m in a romantic relationship with Miss Dale. It would be nice then.

- You are right. Miss Dale is a lovely girl. No one denies this.

Mr. Esmond got up and headed for the door.

"How can I contact you?" Ferguson asked involuntarily.

- You have a business card. You can call until five o'clock. But you have to make a decision no later than this hour today. From time to time, we strictly adhere to the work schedule.

"Of course," said Ferguson, and smiled. "I don't believe you." I don’t even know your terms.

- In your financial situation, our conditions seem insignificant.

"Can I tell you later that I didn't talk to you, that I never saw you?"

-Of course.

- If I call you, will you answer?

- Until five o'clock. Goodbye, Mr. Ferguson.

As Esmond left, Ferguson felt his hands tremble. He was so excited by the conversation that he decided to take today’s conversation out of his head.

But it was not easy. No matter how seriously he dived into the work, every word of Esmond resounded in his mind.

Somehow the destruction service had information about his wife. Ferguson, on the other hand, admitted how his wife was.

He was hired again. But at that moment Miss Dale came in carrying a piece of paper, and Ferguson involuntarily confessed to her incredible beauty.

"Do you have another assignment, Mr. Ferguson?" Asked Miss Dale.

-What? Yes, not yet, Ferguson said. When the girl left, she sat staring at the door for a long time.

It made no sense to work anymore. He decided to go home.

"Miss Dale," he said, sliding his coat over his shoulder, "I've been called, and there's more work to do." Would you like us to work together one evening?

"Of course, Mr. Ferguson," said the girl.

He left his office.

At home, his wife had just washed the laundry. Mrs. Ferguson was a short, ugly woman. She was surprised to see her husband.

"You're back early today," he said.

"Yes, is it possible to return early?" Said Ferguson, astonished.

-Of course not…

"What, do I have to die for you at work?"

-No e

-Don't fuck me.

"I didn't do it!" Cried his wife.

"I'll rest," Ferguson said.

He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the phone. He looked at the clock and saw that the quarter hour was less than five.

Ferguson began to walk back and forth. He stared at Esmond's business card, and the face of the beautiful Miss Dale appeared before his eyes.

He hurriedly picked up the phone.

-Destruction service? Ferguson is speaking.

Esmond hears. What have you decided, sir?

"I do," Ferguson said, squeezing his ear. "I have the right to do so," he said to himself.

They have been married for seventeen years. Seventeen years! They spent not only the most unpleasant moments in their lives, but also the sweetest moments together. Is this fair?

"What have you decided, Mr. Ferguson?" Replied Esmond.

-Me… I… no! "I don't need your help!" Shouted Ferguson.

"Are you sure, Mr. Ferguson?"

-Yes, I'm sure. You have to put it behind bars. No, sir!

He picked up the phone and it was as if a mountain had fallen over his shoulder. He hurried downstairs.

His wife was cooking meat roast, which he hated. But it doesn’t matter. He was ready to turn a blind eye to the small inconveniences.

The doorbell rang.

"Yes, they must be from the laundry," said Mrs. Ferguson, as she prepared the salad. "Will you look at the door?"

-Yes.-Ferguson opened the door. On the threshold stood two men dressed in the same way, holding a large sack.

"Are you from the laundry?" Ferguson asked.

“From the destruction service,” said one of the visitors.

-But I…

They folded his arms and skillfully put it in the bag.

"You have no right!" Cried Ferguson.

Ferguson was dragged along the garden path. The car door opened and the bag was put inside the car.

"Is everything all right?" He heard his wife's voice.

- Yes, ma'am. Our work schedule has changed. It became clear at the last minute that we would fulfill your order.

"I'm glad," said his wife. "I talked to Mr. French, who works for your firm, this afternoon." And now you forgive. The meal is ready, now I am waiting for a guest.

The car shifted, Ferguson tried to scream, but there was no sound from the bag with his mouth closed.

With tears in his eyes, he asked himself, “What kind of guest is he waiting for? Why didn't I feel anything ?! '