To Kill the Duke (15 page)

Immediately, he went to seize both Ivan and Trotsky Number Seven, thinking that he had been duped and that these two were in cahoots and that they had harmed or were trying to harm Stalin.

“Let them go, my boy. Let them both go. Where did you find this projectionist? He shouldn’t be running the projector. He should be
on
the screen. Because he is so damn funny,” Stalin said to his captain as he slowly stopped laughing.

“Hail Marx. Hail Engels. Hail Stalin,” the captain said as he looked to the sky. “I thought I had been tricked and you had been harmed, my fearless leader,” the captain said to Stalin as he lowered his head to be at eye level with Uncle Joe.

And with the last word out of the captain’s mouth — Joe Stalin burst out laughing again. It was contagious, only because he
was
their leader and Ivan soon joined in. After a few seconds and the laughing attack had calmed down, the captain asked the head of the Communist world what was so funny this time?

And Stalin told him, which produced even more laughter from Stalin. The captain, Ivan and Trotsky Number Seven didn’t participate in this round.

“I told you, comrade projectionist, that you had a future,” the captain whispered to Ivan as he exited the bathroom to stand at his post.
“Sometimes you have to let the big boss think he is alone in being the big boss and let him laugh alone.

Ivan agreed with that statement — especially if the big boss was Joe Stalin.

“I wanted Trotsky Number Seven to frisk you. The captain assured me that you are clean. However, there are a lot of terrorists, plotters and schemers out there waiting to rub me out… and most of them are Jews!” Stalin shouted to Ivan.

“Fearless leader, why is that man’s name ‘Trotsky Number Seven?’” Ivan managed to ask Stalin.

“A very good question, comrade. But before I answer that, let me tell you about time,” Stalin began. “And you should listen, because you don’t have a wrist watch. Look at mine, will you?” And Stalin held his arm out to Ivan. Ivan stared closely at the watch, which was standard as wrist watches went except for one item. In the center of the watch was the face of Stalin himself!

“Very nice comrade leader,” Ivan said.

“I had one with Trotsky’s face on it, but it never kept time correctly,” Stalin said with a chuckle.

Toughski shitski
Ivan thought. “Am I going to get into any trouble if the film doesn’t start on time comrade Stalin?” Ivan asked.

Again, the leader of the Communist world broke out into an uncontrollable laugh. “You really belong on screen or a stage comrade,” he said once he had regained his breath.

“But I have been taught that being punctual is a very important policy that all our leaders follow,” Ivan said.

“That’s true comrade, except when it involves me. The people who work for the good of Russia and who you collectively call ‘leaders’ have to set their watches and clocks to two times. Secondly — real time. First and foremost —
my time, which is why my picture is on my watch!
” Stalin said prickly. “By the way, did I tell you that my word is my bond, unless I made a mistake?”

“I can relax then, comrade?” Ivan asked quietly, hoping that Stalin wasn’t making a mistake when it came to what he was thinking about in regards to Ivan Viznapu.

“Of course. Nothing happens out in the screening room until I say it does. And when I say to do something or start something it better happen just like that,” Stalin said as he made a feeble gesture to snap his fingers. “Right, Trotsky Number Seven?”

Trotsky Number Seven then snapped his fingers the proper way and nodded in agreement with Stalin.

I bet if his fingers don’t snap like Uncle Joe wants them to, that poor bastard has to wipe Stalin’s ass
Ivan thought.
Even with the better quality of his toilet paper — it would still be added punishment.

“Know why he is Trotsky Number Seven?” Stalin suddenly asked Ivan.

Ivan shook his head no. Ivan really didn’t care to find out and cringed at what he thought Stalin might tell him.

“Trotsky One through Six messed up in some way or another and I had them removed,” Stalin declared. “But this one,” he said as he pointed and smiled at Trotsky Number Seven “has been very good. He’ll be with me for a long time.”

Ivan smiled at Trotsky Number Seven.
Better you than me
Ivan thought to himself as he kept on smiling. ‘Better you than me’ was a very popular thought among the citizens of The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, but with Ivan ‘toughski shitski’ was becoming more and more popular.

“Don’t think too badly of this Jew,” Stalin told Ivan. “I was much worse to the captured Nazis that we took out of Mother Russia.”

What could be worse than what that poor bastard has to do?
Ivan pondered. “How so, comrade Leader?” Ivan asked Stalin.

“I made the captured Nazi of the day wipe my ass,” Stalin said in such a matter-of-fact tone, that Ivan became scared. He was used to being in awe of the man, now after what he had seen and now heard he was terrified of him.

“Does Trotsky Number Seven also do what the Nazi of the day did?” Ivan asked Stalin.

Stalin shook his head no.

Ivan sighed.
At least Trotsky Number Seven doesn’t have to do that
, he thought.

“The only reason I stopped with the Nazis, was because we released them from the prisoner of war camps last year. As much as I hate Jews, I
didn’t think that it was right that they do for me what the Nazi of the day was doing. I’m not a total asshole — pun intended,” Stalin said somberly.

Some humanitarian
Ivan thought. “Why did you keep the Nazis so long after the war had ended comrade leader?” Ivan asked Stalin. “And what is a pun?”

“Puns? A good question my boy. Probably short for one of my favorite words — PUNishment! But no pun intended. I don’t think anyone knows where the word ‘pun’ comes from. However, let me give you two examples and then you try. If I may so… even though he’s a Jew, Groucho Marx is the master of puns. This is one of his favorites — ‘Time flies like an arrow — fruit flies like a banana.’”

Ivan just blinked.

Stalin rolled his eyes. “Okay kid, how about this one by Mae West — ‘A hard man is good to find.’”

Ivan managed a tepid smile.

“For being a funny man, you don’t have much of a sense of humor,” Stalin said. “Maybe I ought to order you to create a pun.”

Ivan blinked, gulped and managed a weaker smile than the previous one.

“Come on kid, give it a try,” Stalin strongly suggested.

Toughski shitski
Ivan thought. “Okay, here goes,” he said to himself. “Your coffee is so bad, it’s grounds for a divorce,” he said to Stalin weakly.

Stalin pulled on both sides of his mustache with his hands, bit his lower lip and started howling.

Ivan let out a huge sigh.

“I’m the greatest teacher, am I not?” Stalin said. “By the way, that was a terrible pun.”

“I’m a great projectionist,” Ivan found himself saying.

“You have said that already. You’d better be or I might be reinstituting my ass-wiping policy,” a suddenly serious Stalin said.

Ivan froze up. He believed that this man would do just that. He hated Jews for no apparent reason other than that they were Jews. He killed anyone who disagreed with him. He made Nazis wipe his ass and stay in prison camps long after the war was over. Based upon these facts, there was a good chance he could turn a projectionist into an ass-wiper.

Stalin then went into a five minute rant about Jews and Nazis and how he hated both groups. He used the same words so much in describing both groups that Ivan thought Stalin had lumped all Jews and all Nazis into one group, so much was the hatred of the leader of the Communist world for anything Jewish and anything Nazi. And of course if any two groups should never be lumped together, it was the Jews and the Nazis. Even Ivan knew that because the Holocaust had taught it.

Ivan Viznapu hated the Nazis because of the suffering that he had had to endure as a teenager from the time that Operation Barbarossa took place up until the Battle of Stalingrad when the Red Army started pushing the Nazis back out of their country and beating them at their own game — scorched-earth warfare.

“The Huns deserve everything bad that happens to them,” Ivan had heard many a fellow Russian say. Ivan agreed and often wished that Germany was never allowed to ever have one bullet in its entire country. Now hearing that his leader — Joseph Stalin — had prisoners from Germany in camps long after the war was over, made Ivan mad. Mad, because those prisoners required food, clothing and shelter that should have gone to the many Russians who needed more of the same. But Ivan was a projectionist, not a martyr, and said nothing. As far as the Jews were concerned, he could only conjure up one thought—empathy. Surprisingly, German food smelled good and Ivan reasoned that it tasted good, too, otherwise, why would his leaders be eating it? What suddenly became puzzling to Ivan was why there was no Chinese food around. After all, the Chinese were Communists and allies.

Why would a man of Stalin’s stature treat Jews like Trotsky Number Seven so terribly? Hadn’t his fearless leader learned anything from the crisis of the last war and what people had done to one another?

Obviously no,
Ivan thought and suddenly, to his own surprise, he found himself getting braver by the second, ready to direct a tough question to the leader of the Communist world.

“Maybe it was because I felt total empathy for Trotsky Number Seven,” Ivan later told Alex, after Alex had returned from his mini vacation and Ivan
informed him about his first, and last, night at running the movie projector. Ivan noticed that Alex was still coughing and sneezing.
So much for vacations being a cure
Ivan thought as he recoiled at Alex’s sneezing and coughing.

“Ivan, did you ever find out why Trotsky was also named Number Seven?” Alex asked his friend. “I never could,” he added with a hint of jealousy.

“Yes,” Ivan muttered. “By the way comrade, everything you told me that afternoon in your flat went like clockwork. Do you own a crystal ball?”

“Crystal balls break, comrade,” Alex said. “That bad?” he asked quietly.

“Yup. Stalin had the other six… how did he put it... oh yeah… ‘removed.’”

“Well, Trotsky Number Seven or whatever his real name is doesn’t have to worry about that anymore,” Alex said as he raised a glass of vodka and tipped it to Ivan, who did likewise.

Just when Ivan Viznapu started to feel brave, there came a knock on the bathroom door. It was the captain informing all in the bathroom that the screening room was packed and the party members were getting antsy for the festivities to begin.

“Comrade… leave and get the movie ready. I like you and I’m going to make sure that you are well cared for tonight,” Stalin said with a wink and a nod as he motioned to Ivan to leave.

“Thank you, comrade Leader,” Ivan said as he turned and left, hearing Stalin order Trotsky Number Seven to assume the position, because he felt another urge to urinate. Ivan hurried out; he didn’t want to hear Stalin’s piss hitting the urinal.

I will never heap abuse on another soul as long as I live,
Ivan thought to himself as he made his way to the safety of his projection room. As soon as he arrived he checked the camera, and all was in place. He then looked through the slit in his room that showed the viewing area and the people below. He waited for the sign to begin the movie.