Makar, my dear! What have you done! Oh my goodness! Why would this happen!” Elena was pacing around the yard, where her husband stood with an axe and a determined look in his eyes.
“It had to be done…! I’ve never tolerated such fear before! And I don’t intend to anymore!” The man threw the axe onto a large stump and then entered the house.
Elena stood in horror on the porch for a few more minutes, watching what fear could do to a person, then followed inside.
Makar was a grown, serious, and substantial man. He sought a wife with the same qualities. For this reason, he even had to go to the neighboring village—everyone in his native village seemed too familiar, frivolous, jokers.
The family with Elena turned out well—they lived soul to soul. The only thing Makar disliked was that his wife often visited the neighboring village to see her mother. Since one doesn’t just run off like that, she always took a gift along, whether pies or a bottle of homemade liqueur. Makar tried to view it calmly. He himself had been orphaned early and would have loved to visit his parents if he had somewhere to go.
Before going to visit her parents, Elena would tidy up the house and yard. She prepared food for her husband for two days so he wouldn’t sit hungry. Although he was against her leaving like this, he did not show it. Moreover, Elena never left any work unfinished and kept the household and home in perfect condition.
Elena’s main pride was her chickens. She cared for them with special tenderness. There were Russian broody hens and some brought from the city—with furry legs and huge crests on their heads. Every spring, when going to the city, Makar would buy new chicks to please his wife. He would have been fine with regular laying hens, but his wife loved all sorts of exotic creatures and sincerely rejoiced at the new residents.
Makar and Elena lived soul to soul for several years. Gradually, the husband got used to his wife occasionally visiting her native village. And her trips became less frequent. The younger sisters grew up, began to help their mother with the household, and Elena gradually got used to living in her own home.
During one such weekend, an incident happened to Makar that he would remember for a lifetime, and his wife learned—to be more careful with unfinished business when leaving home.
Once, during the prime berry picking season, the wife decided to make a blackberry liqueur. She found large, beautiful berries, and the liqueur turned out splendidly. She poured the liqueur into bottles, and set aside the leftover berries to throw away later. But she got busy and didn’t notice that they somehow disappeared. She assumed she had thrown them out but forgot about it.
She had quite a few things to do that day. She needed to get everything done and also prepare to visit her parents. This time, Elena had asked her husband for a few days off. Her mother was ill, and she needed to help, take care of her household, and give instructions to her sisters.
In the morning, before work, seeing that his wife was all busy and worried, Makar decided to help her. He fed the animal and then went to work, hoping to find his wife still at home when he returned in the evening. Usually, she would leave on horseback at night and return a couple of days later.
After managing all her tasks in the afternoon, Lena went out to feed the numerous residents of the large yard.
As soon as she stepped out, she sat down on the nearest stump. All over the yard, her precious chickens lay here and there. They were crested, speckled, with furry legs and thick tufts on their heads. All lay where disaster had struck them, the cause of which, at first glance, was not visible. The wind swayed the delicate feathers, but the birds themselves were frozen in unnatural poses. If a beast had attacked – it would have been noisy, and Elena would have noticed the commotion. And there would be more traces after a predator – feathers, down, and remains of uneaten chickens.
There wasn’t even a hint of a predator’s presence in Lena’s yard. It was as if some terrible curse had descended on the chicken coop, causing all its inhabitants to fall into an eternal sleep. Lena felt as if the ground was slipping from under her feet and the sun no longer shone.
Struggling to recover from the shock, Elena decided that if her husband managed to return before she left, it was best not to say anything to him. After all, he had never scolded her before, but now he might start a scandal. After all, he had paid a significant amount for them at one time, and she had not protected them!
Lena thought of several ideas about what could have happened to the chickens.
All the neighbors had been eyeing these chickens and openly envied Lena. And their envy went far beyond the chickens. Some married women began to recall their youth and their relationships with Makar. One remembered fooling around with him in school, another was sure he would propose to her after school. While they waited for his proposal, they married others. And he found his happiness in another village. Not only that, but he lived with his wife to everyone’s envy. Did the women decide to take revenge on Lena in such a cunning way? But it seemed there was no reason! She hadn’t even quarreled with them!
Lena decided that one of the neighbors had dared to do a wicked deed – they poisoned her chickens. After all, they knew how happy she was about them. How happy Makar was, carrying a box of squeaking little bundles from the bus stop, eager to please his wife.
“No! You won’t see me cry over my chickens! Nor will you see Makar scold me for them!” – Lena decided, standing up from the stump where she had sat.
Having gathered all the fallen chicken family into bags, Lena decided to at least collect the feathers from the most beautiful chickens. If she couldn’t enjoy the layers, at least a fine feather bed for her husband would come out of it! And from the most beautiful feathers, she could make flowers. She had seen such recently; a new neighbor had shown them.
Thinking this way, Lena carried the bag to the porch, set up a bucket for the feathers, and got to work. Lena didn’t notice how, amid all these thoughts, she turned half of the chickens into bare carcasses.
She worked quickly and skillfully. Her habit of managing the household efficiently showed, and her husband would return from work any moment and see all this “splendor.” Lena decided to tell Makar about the disaster over dinner when she would have calmed down a bit. And if she didn’t have time, she would return from her parents’ house earlier, and in the meantime, hide the chickens. The weather was cold, and nothing would happen to them in a couple of days.
“Oh, how sad I am for you, my dear ones! You were so diligent! You gathered your food all day long. It’s still morning, and look how full your crops were! You should have lived and continued to delight me! And who would think of such nastiness? Why me? And indeed, they poisoned them right on my yard. The neighbor’s chickens are all intact! They wander the streets as if nothing happened! No, I need to find out who could have dared such a low act.”
She plucked the fallen chickens until the evening. The routine task went swiftly and skillfully, even though it had noticeably darkened in the porch. She didn’t want to look at the chickens, and the sorrow was so intense that tears clouded her eyes.
“Look how well-cared-for you were. How soft and warm your down was. Half a day has passed, and all the carcasses, as if alive – warm and soft!” – Elena held the last carcass, her favorite rooster Petrushka, and couldn’t believe he would no longer wake them up in the morning with his melodious voice.
Just as she was about to throw Petrushka into the pile with the other plucked carcasses, Lena suddenly felt that the rooster in her hands seemed to stir. Not believing her own sensations, after all – plucking so many chickens, one could start seeing things, Lena went out to the bright porch and carefully examined the bare body, which suddenly began twitching its leg. Petrushka raised his head and looked at his owner with a clouded gaze, seemingly not understanding yet what was happening around. Surprised, Lena even dropped the rooster, who landed on the ground like a heavy sack of flour. Struggling to get up, the rooster walked shakily in search of his crested harem, calling the chickens.
Apparently, the poison was of poor quality, or the chickens ate more of it, since one Petrushka managed to survive. Lena watched the suffering of her ward and thought that it would be easier to send the unfortunate one into the soup. She glanced at the large stump near the chicken coop, in which an ax was stuck. This stump had served as a block for chickens and roosters for several years. She glanced at it but realized – she could not bring herself to behead her beloved. Let them suffer by themselves.
Alright, let him live for now. Later, Makar and I will decide what to do with him.”
Upon re-entering the entryway to put the plucked chickens back in the bag, Lena recoiled in horror. All the chickens, like Petrushka, began showing signs of life. Muttering something unlike their usual clucking, the hens tried to climb out of the heap and stand on their feet. Those that managed began to shriek in horror, seeing their plucked companions. It seemed the poison had a strange effect, as the longer time passed, the more actively the chickens began to stir.
“What a calamity! What on earth did they poison you with, that you slept through me plucking you? What am I to do with you now? You’ll freeze without your feathers! And I have to tell Makar what happened to you.”
Elena rushed around the yard looking for a suitable place for the chickens. Passing by the henhouse, she noticed strange berries in the feeder. Upon closer inspection, Lena realized what had happened to her feathered family. While Lena was busy in the kitchen, her husband apparently decided to help her. But he did not sort out what to feed the birds. So, he dumped the berries left from making liqueurs into the feeder. The chickens pecked at those berries and dropped down drunk, to the extent that losing their feathers didn’t bother them. As their drunkenness wore off, they began to stir. Or perhaps the cold sobered them up faster. They were not used to walking around without their beautiful plumage.
“And what am I to do with you?” – Lena glanced out the door – twilight was fast approaching. She did not want to drive through the field and forest to the neighboring village in the dark, but she couldn’t leave her favorites in such a state.
The decision came instantly as soon as Lena looked at her house. Makar had built it himself. He did everything conscientiously, for a lifetime. He insulated the roof well, so that it was possible to store unneeded items in the attic without fear of dampness or cold. Moreover, when the stove was heated in the house, the attic was so warm that one could live there. Lena decided that while she was away, she would hide the chickens in the attic, and tell her husband not to open the henhouse.
She often did this when she went to visit her parents. She would give the chickens more feed and they could be left alone for a couple of days.
“Let’s hope you don’t let me down and won’t start singing drunken songs all night!” – She coaxed her plucked favorites, lifting them into the attic and setting up a corner with water and feed. She had to leave a lot of water. As soon as they came to, the chickens rushed to the water bowl, instantly emptying it.
“There! I always say – drinking a lot is harmful! You should drink moderately, for appetite, not until you lose consciousness! That’s how I trained my Makarushka with liqueurs! They don’t give you a headache, and in the morning you want to live, not lie down and complain to the whole world!”
After settling the chickens for the night, gathering gifts for her parents, Lena harnessed the young mare Maruska to a light two-wheeled cart and set off to the neighboring village. Her heart was not in its place. At another time, she would not have gone, but her mother asked for help, and Lena dared not disobey.
That day, Makar came home late. In the kitchen, on the table, he found dinner, carefully wrapped in several towels to keep it from cooling.
“What a miracle – I have such a wife! She keeps her own house in order, and helps her parents! A treasure, not a woman! I need to go with her next week, to visit my father-in-law and mother-in-law. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have such a wife!”
After dinner, sipping a couple of glasses of Elena’s liqueur, Makar lay down to sleep. Hard work and a hearty dinner quickly made his eyelids close.
How much time had passed was unknown, but Makar dreamed that he was walking through a swamp, and devils were hopping around him on tussocks. They were jumping and talking. They carried something incomprehensible, as if trying to drag him into their kingdom. He brushed them off, but they kept on shouting, not quieting down.
The man waved his hands at them, trying to drive them away. He waved so hard that he fell out of bed in his sleep. He sat by the bed, not understanding whether he was still dreaming or had woken up. There were no devils around, and the familiar walls couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. But the strange mumbling that he had taken for the speeches of devils in his dream hadn’t gone anywhere.
Having difficulty getting back into bed and covering his head with a blanket, Makar began to listen. For the first few minutes, the house was so quiet that you could hear a dog barking somewhere on the edge of the village.
Just as Makar calmed down and began to fall asleep again, the same voice sounded somewhere above his head. As if someone was muttering in a chest voice, summoning, insisting. Whether it was an illusion or really devils had infiltrated his home, wanting to take his soul.
“Begone! Begone, unclean spirit, so that your breath isn’t here!” – Makar began to shake so much that his teeth chattered.
As if in response to his pleas, a cry sounded somewhere above his head, similar to the cry of a rooster that someone was about to strangle.
“Holy fathers! Where did roosters come from under the ceiling? Surely the unclean force decided to test me. But I won’t give in to them!”
But Makar did not decide to leave the house.
The terrifying voices sometimes quieted down, then sounded louder, spreading across the entire ceiling and then gathering into a single bunch again. Makar even began to think that he could distinguish some voices in this indistinct mumbling. As if he heard his own name and could discern his unfortunate fate. As if the devils were not just mocking him, but wanted to lead him into despair, which was a terrible sin. No matter how hard Makar tried to fall asleep or cover himself with a blanket over his head not to hear the moans and lamentations, they began to sound louder.
And before dawn, one of the devils, as if not reconciled with the fact that he could not seize Makar’s soul, screamed so that the man nearly lost his soul in fright.
“Away from me, away! Your time is up, unclean! Leave me be. It’s dawn already, and you still stir!” – The man couldn’t understand why he still heard terrifying voices, although dawn was already breaking outside.
“And our Petrushka, as if on purpose, is silent! They say roosters can drive away unclean forces with their cries! And today, as if to spite me – I’m home alone, and Petrushka isn’t singing. What happened to him?
Tossing and turning until morning under the dreadful sounds, Makar got up and quietly crept outside. The pleasant morning chill refreshed his face but did not alleviate his fears. Approaching the henhouse, Makar heard not a single sound. It was as if the chickens were sound asleep and had not felt the arrival of the new day.
Upon opening the door, the man discovered that the henhouse was empty.
“What a calamity! But where are all the chickens? What on earth is happening in my house! Could it be the unclean force that frightened me, took away all our chickens?”
Embarrassed to admit it, the man decided to flee his family home for work and, in the evening when his wife returned, resolve what to do next. Quietly packing his lunch, he went to work with a heavy heart.
“I wish Lena would come back. Something inexplicable is happening in the house without her!”
Returning home in the evening and finding that his wife was not yet back, Makar decided he would not endure another day shaking from fear. He climbed up to the attic (to check), where he discovered the bald chickens, the sight of which nearly caused him a heart attack at first glance.
“Mother of God, protect me, a sinner! What is this? What kind of creatures are these!” – As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Makar realized who had kept him from sleeping all night.
His first impulse was to grab an ax and completely decapitate the chickens so that they wouldn’t frighten him anymore. And at the same time, to punish his wife for setting up such surprises.
Grabbing several chickens by the legs, Makar began to throw them from the attic to the ground. Some landed successfully and ran around the yard. Others fell heavily, like sacks of potatoes, and thus stayed where they landed.
Descending from the attic, Makar grabbed the ax, intending to settle scores with the chickens for all the fears they had caused him.
Grabbing one of the chickens, the man threw it on a large stump and raised the ax.
“Makarushka! My dear, what are you doing?” – His wife’s voice sounded frightened from behind him.
“And you shouldn’t have scared me! All night long I thought my death had come! They talked and muttered, damned wretches! Enough! I’ve had enough!”
Lena had to tell everything and repent for her idea to hide the chickens on the warm attic. As angry as the man was, he decided that it was not right to punish the innocent chickens, who, moreover, had suffered from a hangover all night. But from then on, he no longer let his wife go visiting alone. Who knows who else she might decide to take to the attic, and you, Makar, don’t sleep and be afraid…
Such is the story that happened to Makar one day. Both funny and sinful.