"Valentin Katayev. The Cottage in the Steppe (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Unexpected complications set in when they applied to the chief of
police for travel passports. Vasily Petrovich had to submit written
statements testifying to his loyalty to the state. This was not as easy as
it seemed. He filled out the application forms, and four days later an
officer from the Alexandrovsky police-station knocked at the door with two
witnesses in order to proceed with the inquiry. The mere mention of the word
"inquiry" irritated Vasily Petrovich. And when the inquisitor plumped into a
chair in the dining-room where he spread his greasy folders and put down a
spill-proof ink-well on the clean table-cloth, and in an official tone asked
all kinds of stupid questions about sex, age, religious affiliation, rank,
title, etc., Vasily Petrovich felt like throwing him out; but he controlled
himself and endured the grilling. He signed his name to the inquiry paper,
next to the illegible scrawl of janitor Akimov, one of the witnesses, and
the flourishing signature of the other witness, an insipid, pimply young man
in a technical-school cap with two crossed hammers over the peak.
Soon afterwards a policeman came with a notice requesting Vasily
Petrovich to appear before the chief of police. Vasily Petrovich duly
appeared and had a talk with the chief in his office. They discussed a
variety of subjects, mostly political, and Vasily Petrovich explained why he
had left his job with the Ministry of Education. They parted on amiable
terms.
But that was not all. Vasily Petrovich had to submit a mountain of
documents: his service record, birth certificate, his wife's death
certificate, etc., etc. This took much time and energy and caused endless
frustration. All the copies had to be letter-perfect before they could be
notarised. Petya tagged along with his father on this dreary roundabout.
How unbearable were those typing bureaus where sour and arrogant old
maids in squeaking corsets would get up from behind their Underwoods and
Remingtons, haughtily survey Vasily Petrovich and rudely announce that
nothing could be done before another week! How tired they were of the
stifling, deserted summer streets, criss-crossed by the latticed shadows of
the blossoming white acacias and the notaries' oval signboards with their
black, two-headed eagles!
When all the copies were duly prepared and notarized, it turned out
that there would have to be yet another inquiry.
Time was passing and there were moments when Vasily Petrovich felt so
frustrated that he was ready to abandon the idea of going abroad. But Gavrik
saved the situation once more.
"You're green!" he said to Petya, shrugging his shoulders. "You're a
bunch of innocents. Tell your old man to grease their palms."
"What, bribe them? Never!" Vasily Petrovich thundered when Petya passed
on his friend's advice. "I'll never sink that low!"
But in the end, completely exasperated by red tape, he did sink that
low. And behold, everything changed as if by magic: a certificate of his
loyalty was produced in an instant, and the hitherto unattainable travel
passport was delivered to the house.