My interlocutor is a short, stocky, balding grandfather. I bite into the big Antonov apple he gave me, and the painfully familiar smell seems to spread all over the street.
"How long ago was that?" - the old man begins. - And it was so long ago that that dying oak tree near the last house was a green teenager during this story and was hiding from harsh winters in the undergrowth, gaining power and authority over the neighborhood.
One good man was widowed and left with four babies in his arms. He waited a long time, and then took a new mistress into the house. Do you need help with household chores? Need. Won't one more hand hurt in the house, in the field? They won't hurt. Yes, and women's mercy is necessary for children. But the white world has never seen such an ugly woman. The poor children were driven to the corners, and she began to demand from her husband that he sell household goods and buy her all kinds of clothes and jewelry. When the owner refused, she beat him up. The children stood up, so she took their bags in her hands and went out the door to beg, collect money for her stepmother's needs.
When the house ran out of even a little valuable things, the scoundrel began to demand that cattle and poultry, household items, plows to the sheep, be taken to the fair and exchanged for various jewelry and rich clothes.
The unfortunate suffered a lot or a little of these bullying, but one day he decided to run away from home and drown himself. Maybe good people won't leave their children in misfortune, they'll give them a place to spend the night, and they won't spare Cuzco bread.
And there was an impassable swamp near the village, when you went through the forest," the old man pointed in the direction from which I came. "Those who fell into it never returned home, unhappy. And the marsh king Kaduk, as the old–timers say, was in charge of all the bad things in this terrible place. Anyone who saw him died in the same place. But many heard his terrible cry after the villain took his human soul in possession.
And so. Our martyr went to the swamp, went into the most impenetrable place, climbed into the quagmire behind his chest and waited until the king of the swamp pulled him into the dark depths. Meanwhile, Kaduk was playing around his possessions and scaring animals and birds for nothing to do. Someone is looking at the fact that someone wants to drown themselves in his swamp, without his permission. The human Caduceus did not like such independence. He grabbed the man by the hair and threw him back onto the shore. But he was not happy to be saved-he only climbed deeper into the quagmire. He sent the poor guy ashore, and the stubborn one was trying to get back into the swamp, so persistently that Kaduk got really angry. The man got tired, sat down on a hummock and cried. And the swamp king began to wonder why this poor guy was so sad that he couldn't end his life. He turned into an old man and began asking who or what the man wanted to say goodbye to the white world. And he wasn't hiding anything. He told me everything in confession and shared his grief.
Kaduk listened to him attentively and immediately began to envy that the man had such a monster, because he was not the best monster himself. And at that time, Tsar Bolotny was a widower, and among the court's kikimora there was not one that he liked. And then, look, happiness itself came into his hands, or rather, the swamp got into his hands.
"I'll help you in your grief," Kaduk says, regaining his true form. And they agreed that the man would pick up as many cranberries and bring them home, show them to the harmful woman. That's what the guy did. And in the house, when I poured cranberries on the table, the berries became precious stones of unprecedented beauty, splattering the walls with colored bunnies and rainbows. She immediately sent the peasant back to the swamp with a large basket so that she could contribute more of the wealth for free. But this time the berries remained berries, and the owner explained that the king of the swamp would give Baba as many valuables as she wanted, and that she herself needed to go to the swamp to visit Kaduka's possessions. At first, the woman did not leave. I kept looking at the stones, trying them on in the mirror and admiring them. But greed, I tell you, is a terrible thing. And one morning she took two large baskets, as many sacks as she could, and went towards the swamp.
There are no witnesses to what happened there. But for more than one night, a terrible noise, whistling and screaming stood over the swamp, spilling over the outskirts. Apparently, an evil force was celebrating the wedding. Kaduka was finally lucky to find a similar monster. Or maybe the nasty woman in the swamp was trying to set her own rules. Anyway, she never showed up back. And the guy took his kids home. They began to work in the field without laziness, to increase their household, but they lived without envy.
"So I entered your village from the other side, but I didn't see any swamp there," I doubted.
– And he's not there, - the old man squinted and looked at me. - Land reclamation work. What's the point? Sowing fields is a torment. Tractors and all kinds of cars are still being dragged in shaky places. Revenge on Kaduk. And you probably didn't believe me," my interlocutor regretted. - It's your business. Or I wasted my time on you ... Do you hear, the piglet is squealing, asking for food. I'll go. And you leave, honey, before it gets dark. Don't look around too much: the road through the marshlands is loose and narrow…