I am your woman! - Julia Rudenko
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While the soldier was trying to understand what to do first, Major Smirnov entered the commandant’s office, round and low.
– Wow! Svetlana? It’s you! Or am I dreaming? Where from? With whom are our children?
*Svetka – diminutive and familiar for Svetlana.
Chapter 4
Hardly had Malcovich passed Mozdok in his Buick when he was stopped. With their AKMs atilt two patrol soldiers came to the car at the distance of a stretched arm:
– Get off!
Malcovich was about to show them his inefficacious certificate of the navy captain, but those guys didn’t let him do so. Drawing a bead on him at once, one of them repeated:
– Get off!
«Oh, God, for what sins? Do help me, please!» – Malcovich thought.
– Hands on the hood! Feet astride! – one of the soldiers started probing Andrei’s jacket.
He took out his passport, certificate and wallet:
– Andrei Andreievich Malcovich. Born in 1966 in Volgograd. Single. No children. – the soldier read aloud the passport data.
Then opened the military certificate, but read it to himself. After thinking a bit the soldier said:
– Comrade Captain, excuse us for the delay. You may be free!
«Good heavens! They could have let me go before! Thanks, God!» – Malcovich thought.
And then when Malcovich sat behind the wheel and turned the ignition key the second soldier offered him as if reluctantly:
– Do you mind opening the trunk? Just a formality. Just to be sure. And you may go further.
Malcovich left his fingers on the key for a while. Slowly, with dignity he turned his head towards the car-window and asked:
– What?
– Open the trunk I said! – repeated the patrol soldier.
«Good Lord! What bad have I done?!» – a desperate thought flashed by in Andrei’s head.
Humming the tune of «There is an isle of Bad Luck in the ocean», Andrei switched off the ignition, put out the key, opened the door and said rapidly:
– Well, kids! Let’s arrange it! I’ll pay! 500 to each! I’m in a hurry you know! They stop and check me at every post! I’m exhausted to open and close it all the time! One and the same everywhere! I’ve lost half an hour here. I was to be in Vedeno yesterday. So what shall we do? – Malcovich tried to take out his wallet. The second patrol soldier got on the alert.
– Take off your money! Open!
Malcovich heaved a sigh and started opening the trunk… Yawning the patrol soldier wanted to close his mouth with his hand to be decent, but suddenly whistled out and cried to his friend:
– Oh, Vasya! Here’s an arsenal! Guns of all kinds! Just look!
While the patrol soldier was going to Andrei’s car, thoughts were whirling around in his head. Andrei was unable to concentrate on anything.
– OK, I’ll tell you though I mustn’t. These arms are for the commandant’s office of the Northern airport. You know our guys are killed and the Chechens «re grabbing our arms as a trophy. The detachment commanders are in trouble. The office lacks a whale of arms! But it’s useless to explain to those fat-assed generals in Moscow and Rostov that we are losing arms in battle. In battle I say! So I’m going to save my old friends – to refill the arsenal to cut it short!
– This tale will be good for your lawyer, Captain! In court! And then we are surprised why the militants have Russian arms! – said that Vasya and spit scornfully on the move. He convoyed Malcovich to the post cabin, to call the militia from Mozdok, «for detaining an offender».
Chapter 5
Nevertheless Lieutenant Garov, 23 years of age, left his native stanitsa. «Maybe, my wife will understand me, – he thought sitting on a pile of rolled canvas tents near a porthole of the plane „Rostov – Grozny“, – Anyway, other officers’ wives share life with their husbands. They have to travel with them and put up with their duties, don’t they?».
– Oh, young lieutenant! Flying for the first time? – a tender-hearted old man near him cried out.
– Yes, first, – Alex nodded.
– Want some water? I have some mineral water left. Have a drink?!
– No, thanks. I have myself. – Alex shouted in response and half closed his eyes as if he were dosing…
When in that Lera’s Opel he took her passionately, even violently he couldn’t imagine he would be her first man. Just think: a young lady drives along the deserted highway, then picks up a stranger and – what’s more! – is ready to give in to him… Alex wouldn’t have remembered her the next morning if he hadn’t discovered some blood on his trunks taking a shower and hadn’t compared this with Lera’s cry «Oh, it hurts!» when she lost her virginity.
– Mum! Do you know the Lavrovs?
– Of course I know! Everybody knows them! He is a market director, and she is the Chief public prosecutor.
– Oh, God! What I’ve done!
– What’s wrong, my boy? – Mother didn’t hear her son’s exclamation for the water was running in the shower cabin.
– Nothing special!.. Mum, I’m hungry! Awfully hungry!
The next evening he was waiting for Lera near the kindergarten. When she appeared the last beam of sunset fell right on his face. So he screwed his eyes a bit:
– Hello!
Suddenly Lera spoke in a manly voice:
– Kid, wake up! Wake up! We’ve just arrived. The flight is over.
Alex moved abruptly and opened his eyes. The warm-hearted old man was over him:
– We’ve come I say. Had a nap? Well, don’t hurry. We have a lot of time to disembark. They won’t take you back on board. They’ll fly back only tomorrow. With the dead. Here – with alive, back – with dead. Alive and dead. As the title of that novel. By the way, who’s the author of it? Some Russian chap… Ugh… I forgot. Slipped my mind. Oh, my cabbage head! Don’t you remember, lieutenant? – The old man was smiling.
Garov was ready to hit him at the jaw. He clinched his fists, but the old man noticed that and changed his face and tone.
– Please, don’t be angry for my words, – he said. – Neither you nor I want death and war. Neither you nor I started killing people. Others began that war – those who drive in luxurious cars and sit in cozy armchairs. They don’t see any blood, any grief, they’re just getting money. But it’s always not enough for them. They don’t care a straw who is me and who is you! Their fat life is the only thing they care! They’re not at war like Napoleon. Alas, guys like you are merely cannon fodder. Ad you’ll go to make exploits! What for? For their benefit?!
Alex couldn’t deny it. He was listening to the old man gloomily. He undid and clenched his fists.
The old man stopped speaking for some time, then continued in a quiet voice:
– I met Nino, my future wife on the 9th of May. Then it became a Victory day you know. She was just a girl. She left school and was going to enter the institute. But the war began. I was in a trench near Stalingrad in 1942 when I got a small parcel. Many soldiers got such parcels. So I opened it and saw a pair of knitted woolen socks. There was a photo and a small triangle letter in one of them… Our women in the rear gathered what they could for the parcels and sent them to the front line. It was Nino who’ d knitted the socks. Besides, she looked ahead: she would marry the man who would get those socks. She told me that later when our son was one… Then I looked at her photo – a smiling pretty girl she was. That photo touched my heartstrings. I recalled my dear home, cosy and warm. So I read her letter, learned what her name was. As it turned out, we’d lived in the same street in Grozny before the war. Strange as it may seem, the war helped me to find my love. So I answered her. We wrote to each other till the victory. In April, 45 I got wounded and was taken to hospital. Was discharged on the 1st of May, could walk on crutches only. Was sent back home. Nino came to meet me at the railway station, brought me a bouquet of tulips. In a year our son was born.
The old man paused. Then he continued his story:
– Nino died. But I live. Son died. But I live. Truly, I died too… We didn’t want to leave Grozny. But everyone left. Nino and I stayed alone. On the 2nd floor. We, old people, can’t look for a new home, wander from one flat to another. So as we thought it was high time for us to go to the better world. We had lived together for ages – so we would die together as well. As I thought. But it wasn’t so… I went away for half an hour …And it began: helicopters, fire, enemies… I saw our house crash down. It was exploded. When I was leaving Nino said: «I’ll have a rest, wait for you and then feed Vas’ka. Vas’ka is our cat. As you see she didn’t feed him.
Alex couldn’t help asking:
– And your son?
– My sonny died in the air-crash. He was a pilot. Now I’m coming back from my daughter-in-law. She lives in Rostov, with my granddaughter. She asked me to stay, but I can’t stay, Can’t live without Nino. It’s all the same for me – to die. Better to be buried near her.
– You two, get off! You can talk outside! – someone said.
Chapter 6
The officers of the commandant’s office met Sasha Garov friendly. Major Smirnov called him just Garik and offered him to follow a provision pack to Khankala.
– I’d love to! – Sasha answered with great alacrity. – When do we start?
– Oh, not so fast! Steady on! Not today but tomorrow! Major Smirnov squinting a little looked straight into Garov’s eyes.
But meeting the same sight, sharp and steady Smirnov turned aside and bawled:
– Glushko!
Private Glushko came in a great hurry. Hearing his commander’s voice he’d run out of a wooden john, fastening his fly on the run. So he got to the office quicker than fastened all the buttons on his trousers.
Major Smirnov couldn’t help mocking at Glushko:
– So you see, lieutenant, – he said to Garov, – what blockheads I have to rule?
– Comrade Major!.. – Glushko tried to clear himself.
Then he got abashed and turned red.
– Well, come down, Private Glushko! Clasp the last button! Stand up properly! Now tell me and Lieutenant Garov how the detained militants feel.
Glushko set straight his shirt, pants and belt, then straightened up at full length. After short silence he cried out as if dashing on the embrasure:
– Comrade Major! Let me speak! The two militants detained by you yesterday are in the cellar quietly. But not because they are always quite. I gather they are weak after you taught them a lesson so to say last night. So they’re still lying, bleeding. Sometimes they say: «Bitches, Bastards all the same tear them all!»
– Hey, and you? Sitting above them and listening to their trash with pleasure?! – Smirnov frowned. – You’d better read books! There’s some truth in them sometimes! What’s the book you like by the way?
The soldier thought for a moment and said:
– «Three bears».
Garov burst out laughing and turned aside pretending he was coughing. But Major Smirnov continued seriously:
– What?! Is it a fairy-tale or so?! You like tales, don’t you? Tales are a good thing anyway. But what’s the latest book you read, Glushko?
Glushko was a bit confused, thought again and uttered:
– «Three bears».
Garov was half laughing, half coughing louder and louder. He was choking with laughter. Smirnov threw a glance at him, smiled slightly and said pretending to be serious:
– Glushko! Your silly answers made lieutenant Garov choke. Think of what your speak! You’re nineteen, aren’t you?
– Yes, sir!
– You couldn’t have read books last in the 3rd form?
– Oh no, – Glushko smiled. – It’s under my pillow. I read it before sleep.
– What… read? This tale? – Smirnov was stunned.
Garov was unable to hold back and now was laughing boisterously. Glushko looking at Garov and laughing Smirnov really didn’t grasp what was going on. Turning redder than he he’d been with his fly he tried to understand what he’d said wrong.
– Comrade Major! I’ve told you the truth but you…
– Glush-ko!.. Did you read «Ryaba the Hen» for example? – Smirnov said stammering with laughter – I’ll give it to you to read! Very in-te-res-sting!
Then ensign Merdyev entered the office carrying a large bag:
– Laughing? Glushko said something stupid again?
Smirnov still choking with laughter asked Merdyev:
– Lyokha! Did you read a Russian folk tale «Three bears»?! Ha-ha-ha! Glushko recommends us reading it! A good book – a bestseller – he says. It’s a handbook for him! Like the Bible!
Merdyev putting the food from his bag into the fridge cast a glance at Glushko:
– «Three bears» is an excellent tale! My mum read it to me! It’s not so absurd! But it’s bad Glushko doesn’t read other books. Romka, would you like «War and peace», the first volume? Once I found it in an empty flat in Grozny. «Perhaps, it’ll come in handy!», – I thought. OK?
– OK, – muttered Glushko frowning.
Hearing them laughing Svetlana, Smirnov’s wife, came out of the next room:
– Stop mocking at this laddie!
– Who is a laddie here?! – the Major asked sharply. – Glushko is a soldier on duty. He defends his Motherland and hence his mother and his village Glushkino. As a real soldier and citizen he must know about his country, its national heroes and its best writers as well. He is a man-of-war like those militants in the cellar who cry «tear you, bastards!». Or he is different because he reads «Three bears»? And if the Chechens attack us right now, will he jump off the window and run to mummy like Masha from this tale?! I hope he won’t! – Smirnov grinned scornfully.
Meanwhile they heard a tumult of explosion not far from them. After the explosion there came a cross-fire. Smirnov turned around, seized his tommy-gun from the bed and dashed to the door pushing away Glushko. Then he looked back on the move:
– Garov? Are you with me?!
– Yes, yes! – Alex seized a tommy-gun too and followed Smirnov.
– And I? – What I should do? – Glushko’s voice came out of the office.
– Read «War and peace»! – Smirnov’s voice echoed.
– Just a moment! I’ll give you the book! – Merdyev said. He was pottering with the food he’d brought.
– Where are these pretty cakes and pelmens from? – asked Svetlana. – Is there a shop nearby?
– Of course not. – Merdyev said smiling. – The point is the Chechens try to earn their living in some or other way. That’s why they set a market in the airport. When I see them I ask: «Where’s your license? No license? Get off!». So they give me packets with food to stay there. That’s all!
Then to Glushko:
– Here’s the book for you!
Ensign Merdyev took the book by Tolstoy out of the mattress and gave it to Glushko.
Chapter 7
The rhythm of time came out of the hospital staff lounge distinctly and monotonously. The ward-door was ajar. Dasha Sviridenko hated the rest-time since childhood, since her mother had to take her out of the day-nursery because she was constantly ill. She wasn’t asleep alone in the ward. She tried to plan beforehand the forthcoming mysterious event – the sacrament of the childbirth. Sometimes she took her knitting-needles – the panties were nearly ready.