The incident I want to tell about happened at our factory, in the forging shop. I and my crew were working three shifts at the time, 18 years ago, and there was a guy working with us named Oleg. He was a bit odd, but there were never any complaints about his work. I noticed one strange thing about him when we were working the second shift and initially didn't pay it much mind. Usually, we all showered after the work shift ended, but Oleg slipped away somewhere after the break and, returning an hour later, went straight to take a shower.

He was gone for about half an hour, and when he returned, his hair was wet, and I immediately realized he had taken a shower. It

would have been fine, it was summer, hot, and I forgot about it. The heat lasted almost all summer, and the next week, when we were already working the third shift, Oleg slipped away again and then went straight to the shower. He was all sweaty, as if he had run a marathon. I got curious and, after waiting five minutes, took off my boots and, trying not to make noise, entered the locker room. The water was already running and sometimes stopped. I understood he was washing or freshening up there. There were still four hours until morning, and I couldn't stand it and approached the closed door. The lock was broken, and in its place, a hole about five centimeters wide was gleaming.

Oleg was standing with his back to me, and from his knees to his waist, he was dirty with something black, resembling fuel oil or engine oil, but very black. When he turned slightly sideways, I saw that his penis and balls were also all covered in something black. I became very curious and, without telling anyone, decided to follow him myself next time to see where he went.

Two weeks passed, and we were back working the second shift, and during the workday, Oleg turned off his machine and left the shop. I followed him and saw him enter the neighboring shop, which housed huge presses. The shop was dark, with only the emergency lights on. I stood by a window and watched where his silhouette moved in the dim light. Oleg approached the booth where the foremen sat, went behind it, and a couple of minutes later came out completely naked, with only his boots on. I was shocked by what I saw and stared through the window. I almost pushed the glass out of the frame with my forehead. Oleg walked down the aisle and stopped near a tank with dirty rags used to clean up spilled oil and wipe dirty parts and machines. He climbed into the tank and disappeared from view. After a few minutes, I heard a diesel locomotive pulling a platform in my direction.

Then Oleg approached a disassembled machine closer to me and, walking around it from all sides, sat on the floor near it, then turned and lay on his stomach.

— What is he doing, I thought, almost saying it out loud.

Oleg stood up, and his rear and entire front were black, with narrow streaks of oil or fuel oil running down his legs. I just stood there, watching everything with my mouth open. Then Oleg wiped himself with dirty rags and went behind the booth where his clothes were. I didn't wait for him and hurried back to the shop. He returned about ten minutes later and headed straight for the shower. Nothing suspicious was noticeable about him; his face and hands were clean, and his work clothes, like everyone else's, were a bit soaked and oily. I waited a bit and, after writing him a note with a few words, placed it on the floor near his locker—I thought he wouldn't miss it and would see and read it. And in the note, I wrote that fuel oil is very poisonous and penetrates deep under the skin. Why I did this, I don't know. Perhaps I somehow wanted to warn him of trouble. But what's done is done.

— Guys, let's go wash up, the water's back on.

Everyone quickly started finishing their tasks and went to the shower. I dragged it out until the last moment, and Oleg wasn't in a hurry either. Soon, people from the first shift started arriving, and the locker room was full. I washed up slowly, and when I finished and approached my locker, Oleg still wasn't there. I deliberately decided to leave my shampoo and washcloth in the washing area, placing them on the shelf near the faucet, and slowly started heading down. Oleg was coming towards me.

— What about you, look, they'll turn off the water, and you'll go home unwashed—I asked him.

— I was cleaning the machine, oil leaked—he replied.

— Well, hurry up then—I cheerfully winked at him and walked past.

As soon as Oleg disappeared into the locker room. I waited about five minutes and returned. Water was running in the washing area, and my arrival was unlikely to be heard. Opening the door, I made a surprised face, seeing Oleg standing with his back to me under the stream of water, completely black.

— Oleg, wait, don't splash, I forgot my shampoo and washcloth—I said.

Oleg flinched and tensed up.

— Why are you so dirty—I asked him.

— I told you, oil leaked and I was cleaning it up—he replied.

I walked over to the shelf, took the shampoo and washcloth, and glanced at Oleg. He was subtly trying to turn away, and his face was as red as a lobster. Despite this, I saw that his penis and everything in front were also black and dirty, as were his buttocks and everything below the waist from the back.

— Did you fall into a barrel of oil or something?—I asked, chuckling slightly.

— No, I just slipped and sat in a puddle of oil.—he replied.

— And by any chance, is it not the trash tank in shop 19—I asked openly, as I was already tired of playing cat and mouse with him and just wanted to clarify everything.

— Alright, don't be afraid, I won't tell anyone about this, I just don't understand why you need it—I asked him and tried to calm him down a bit.

After a short pause, Oleg gathered his strength and asked me.

— You really won't tell anyone?

— What's the point, so they laugh at you and God knows what they start thinking about me—I replied to him.

— And what do you have to do with it—Oleg didn't understand.

— What do you mean, I somehow found out about it, so I'm involved, and no one will bother to find out what and how, especially our women, they'd just gossip and laugh—I explained.

I left and walked away, leaving Oleg alone with his thoughts, so he could sort himself out. For several days after that, he kept glancing at me sideways and didn't say a word. He also didn't leave the shop for over a month. And once, when we happened to be delayed together again, he said in the locker room as he passed by.

— Thank you.

— For what—I replied.

— For not blabbing to anyone—he explained.

— Ah, about that. Don't feel like doing it anymore?—I said.

Oleg remained silent and didn't answer. And soon I heard water running in the washing area. I crept up and peeked through the hole where the lock used to be. To my surprise, Oleg was clean and even seemed different, and when he turned slightly sideways and started soaping his head, I saw that his penis and balls were also smeared with fuel oil and glistened from the water droplets on them.

— When did he manage—I thought and went home.

After that, I started watching him again, and once I saw Oleg, returning from the toilet, wiping his dirty hands, stained with something black. It became clear to me when and where he managed to smear his genitals, and I decided and approached him.

— Oleg, if you need it so much, don't do it in the toilet. Let it be over there in the other shop—I said and immediately caught his gaze. He looked at me and was silent, while he himself was all red and his lips trembled slightly from agitation.

— Don't be afraid, I won't tell anyone about this. I promise—I assured him and went to work.

The next day, Oleg disappeared again in the middle of the work shift and returned happy and cheerful. I understood he had sat in the dirty tank in shop 19 again and was surely all dirty, and to confirm this, I peeked into the shower again and was right.

After this incident, Oleg, every week when we worked the second or third shift, would slip away two, sometimes three times, and then shower separately from everyone. One Friday, we were working the second shift, and towards the end of the workday, something broke in my machine, and I had to fix it with the repairman and got delayed. Oleg, however, disappeared again an hour before the end of the shift and didn't know about this. It was already around one in the morning when we finished, and I, having completed my quota, went to shower, leaving only the emergency lights on in the shop. Perhaps Oleg thought everyone had already left, and he was the only one remaining, so he had no one to fear.

When I left the locker room, and I had only about twenty meters to walk through the shop to the exit, I heard something thudding dully somewhere, and I started looking around. In the corner of the shop, a dark silhouette flashed, and then Oleg appeared, completely black and dirty and utterly naked. I was in shock. I had never seen him so dirty before. Seeing me, he got scared and hid behind the product containers, but when I waved my hand at him, he slowly came out and started approaching me. Now I could see him well and even very clearly saw his protruding black penis and dangling balls with shreds of some black fuel oil or grease or just dirt.

— Just don't get everything dirty here, or we'll all have to clean up later—I said to him, as for some reason, no other words came to mind. It was already dark and night outside, and it was still a twenty-minute walk home, so I headed for the exit.

— If you're staying until morning, lock up—I said to him and left the shop.

When Oleg quit, I tried on myself what he used to smear himself with. I experienced something incomprehensible to me and very stirring to my feelings, but that was more likely because I was naked in an unusual situation, not because I was all smeared. But the mystery of Oleg's fascination remained a mystery to me.

Sergey K.

Chelyabinsk Region.

Stories by this author

A Strange Case, or Meeting Oleg