She had been inquisitive since childhood, even too inquisitive. Zoe was always prying into other people’s affairs, eavesdropping on conversations, then retelling them, twisting half of them. She loved to gossip so much that she couldn’t even go a day without discussing some personality with her friends.
This fairly harmless hobby had not only become the meaning of Zoe’s life, but had almost taken her own life.
When Zoe was twenty-three years old, she worked as a waitress in a small coffee shop. It was usually crowded, but they left her very little in tips. This always made Zoya angry, because her colleagues were tipped twice or even three times as much. Zoe loved to relish this injustice. Every free minute at work she did nothing but complain about the customers, discussed their greed, mocked their awkwardness, and sometimes even openly pestered them.
Then one day an elderly lady came into the coffee shop. She was not dressed for the weather. A light floor-length summer dress and a yellow hat did not match the drizzling October rain outside the window. Zoe chuckled to herself, and decided to serve a customer to get a better look at this strange person.
– What do you want on this cloudy and cold autumn day? – Zoë stressed each word and glared directly at the woman.
And she looked at Zoë distractedly, as if she was not listening at all. Nevertheless the lady ordered cheesecakes and tomato juice.
– Are you sure? Maybe some cocoa or coffee would go better with the cheesecakes? – Zoe could barely keep from laughing.
– Thank you, I only drink tomato juice.
Zoey couldn’t help herself. She burst into tears as soon as she stepped away from the table. And in the kitchen, she went all out.
– She’s such a clown, showing up. It’s like she’s at an art show, not a cafe. She’s wearing a hat and dress when it’s three degrees outside and the jacket is chilly. But this is just the beginning – our lady only drinks tomato juice. Can you believe it? I wonder if she has a cooler at home with juice instead of water. What a weirdo. Probably appears on the street once a year, that’s why she is dressed out of weather. And it’s the first time I’ve been to a cafe. Which means I won’t get a tip.
Zoya’s colleagues listened with polite attention, but no one really understood what she was saying. Everyone had got used to Zoey babbling on and on.
When the lady finished eating, she asked for the bill. She paid the bill in full and left a tip. A disproportionately large amount for such a small order. A bill of five thousand rubles.
Zoe gasped. She took the money and froze in indecision. Looking at the lady, Zoe could not even find the words. And the woman smiled and muttered.
– Well, finally, you shut up. Oh, what a bad language you have. Instead of talking and judging everybody, you’d better mind your own business. You’ve got time now.
The lady left, and Zoe hadn’t been able to say a word since that second. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. She was fired from her job, because no one wants an employee who can’t even answer clients. Zoe lost all her friends because she couldn’t talk to them anymore. Money was running out, so Zoe was saving the last bill, the very one the lady gave her. And when it came time to change it, Zoe noticed that there was something written in small handwriting on the bill.
“Give this money to a beggar and then your vote will come back.”
Zoe was very scared to do it, because it was the last money she had. But nevertheless she made up her mind. She went down to the underpass and put the money in a box to an old beggar. He looked at her with surprised eyes and thanked her.
– You’re welcome,” Zoe answered and froze.
The voice came back! Immediately she began to sing some children’s song. Since then her voice had not disappeared again, but Zoe had changed a lot. She stopped gossiping and got a new job.
