After graduating from the Leningrad Medical Institute, I worked in a village near Kostroma. This is where the story I want to tell happened. Once Nikolai Alekseevich, the chief physician of the district hospital, called me to his office and offered to visit one of the nurses with him, who at that time was on maternity leave.
- You know her, - he explained on the way to the house, - this is Helen from the surgical department. She seems to be a normal woman, but she says some stupid things: they say, evil forces have settled in her house, they make noise and frighten everyone. I don't believe in such things, and we don't need these conversations. The bosses may think that obscurantism is rampant in our hospital.
Nikolai Alekseevich had a sore leg, he walked with a cane. We walked slowly. Fifteen minutes later we came to a small wooden house. We were met by a mongrel vociferous dog. Helen came out onto the porch and invited me into the house.
- Well, what have we got here? Nikolai Alexandrovich asked.
- Let's first have some tea with pies, - offered Helen. - And I'll tell you everything.
We agreed and went into a room that served as both a dining room and a bedroom. Almost a third of the room was occupied by a Russian stove. We sat down at a large table - me, the head doctor, Lenochka, her husband and their 12-year-old son. A tiny girl was sleeping in the carriage next to the window.
The owner put the boiling electric samovar in the center of the table, the boy arranged the cups, and the young hostess brought the pies. Then the husband placed a bottle of his own wine on the table. We drank a little and started talking.
- It's already the third month for my daughter, - Lena began the story. - And when I was still pregnant, some incomprehensible noises, knocks, creaks appeared in our closet. The pantry is small, we store vegetables and cucumbers-tomatoes in jars there. The entrance to it is from the vestibule. At first we thought that there were mice. They sealed all the cracks, laid the second floor, hung a large lock on the door, and locked the cat there at night. But it did not help.
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“We put up a house when our son was two years old,” the young mistress continued. - And the pantry was added about three years ago. And such a misfortune. My husband says that a brownie or a goblin from the forest has come to visit us. And it worries me very much.
- Is there always a lock on the pantry door? - Nikolay Alekseevich asked.
- In the evening and at night. We have only one key - it hangs in the hallway.
We went into the vestibule and looked at the locked storage door. I went up to her and listened. It seemed to me that there was someone outside the door.
- I put things in order there before your arrival, put everything in its place. You will see, soon the brownie will start to play tricks. He always wakes up at the same time.
I suddenly felt uneasy.
- Okay, let's wait a bit, - said the head doctor. - Only I do not believe in any brownies, goblin and any other evil spirits. And I do not advise you, Lenochka. We are materialists, we must understand that any supposedly mystical events must have a rational explanation.
Half an hour passed. We went to the closet again. Lena handed the key to Nikolai Alekseevich. He tightened his grip on the stick, removed the lock and abruptly opened the door with the words:
- Where are you, devil, or how are you there? Show yourself, get a treat from me!
At the same instant, a potato the size of a good fist whizzed through the air and hit him in the face. He screamed, staggered back and fell on his back. We, as if spellbound, remained in place. Nikolai Alekseevich got to his feet, his face turned purple.
- What is it? he said. - Who hit me?
He jumped out of the house and, leaning on a stick, without saying goodbye, hobbled towards the hospital.
I examined the storage room with disbelief and apprehension. There was a basket of potatoes on the floor in the corner. Nearby, on the clean-swept floor, lay a head of cabbage, pumpkin, and some other vegetables. On the shelves were jars of cucumbers. Several potatoes are on the doorstep. And - nobody.
I thanked the owners for the treat and went to catch up with the head doctor. I found him in the office in front of the mirror. He was staring at a large bruise near his left temple.
“You're very lucky,” I said. “This closet also contained pumpkin and cucumber jars. If one of them flew to the head, an ambulance would have to be called.
Nikolai Alekseevich curled his lips and said:
- I would ask that all the talk about the tricks of the so-called brownie do not go beyond this office. Although I was probably to blame myself, behaved too defiantly, so he didn't like it.
- Who is it for him? I chuckled.
Nikolai Alekseevich said nothing and gently touched the hematoma on his face with his finger.
Soon I was transferred to work in another hospital, so I don't know how this story ended.
M. Sh.