I sat frozen.
The footsteps and voices overhead quieted, and the ship stopped poofing and thrashing.
I was just going to be thrown off the ship forever?
I went to open the door and it wouldn't open, the brass doorknob wouldn't even twist.
I copied the bottle with the milk in it and slammed it desperately at the doorknob, the bottle shattered and the milk ran down my leg and into my boot.
I was so dismayed that I lay down on my pack and cried quietly. Eventually, I fell asleep with tears in my eyes.
The poofing and churning of the ship startled me and the windows in the cabin shone brightly like a small sun.
Grandma sat beside me, frowning and combing her hair, and she kept mumbling to herself.
She had an unusually large amount of hair, which densely covered her shoulders, chest, and knees, and hung down to the floor.
She gathered her hair up off the floor with one hand and struggled to get the wooden comb, which appeared to be small, into the thick hair.
Her lips were unconsciously crooked, her dark eyes staring angrily at the hair in front of her; her face looked ridiculously small in the large pile of hair.
She wasn't happy today, but when I asked her why her hair was so long, her tone was as soft as it had been yesterday, "It's like it's God's punishment for me, he's the one who's making me wear all this damn hair!
"When I was young, it was a treasure I could show off, but now I curse it!
"I'm not going to sleep!"
"Well, if you're not going to sleep, you're not going to sleep," she agreed instantly, braiding her hair and looking over at her mother, who was lying there on the couch, motionless as a log "Well, tell me, how did you break the milk bottle yesterday? Keep your voice down and tell me!"
She spoke gently and sweetly, each word so patiently that I remembered every word.
When she laughed, her black eyes shone brightly and sparkled with an ineffable pleasantness; her teeth were snow-white, and her face, though a little dark, still looked young.
The most damaging part of her face was probably the big, soft, red nose.
She led me out of the darkness and into the light all at once, and brought a beautiful halo of light to the things around me!
Her my friend forever, the person I know best, with whom I know best!
Her selfless love has guided me so that I never lose my courage to live in any tough and difficult circumstances!
40 years ago these days, the ship went slowly forward like this. We sat for a good 01 days before we reached Nizhny, and I can still vividly recall those first wonderful days.
The weather cleared up and my grandma and I stayed on deck all day.
The Volga River flowed quietly, the autumn sky was clear, and the autumn colors were strong on both banks, a pre-harvest scene.
The orange-red ship rumbled against the current, its oars slowly slapping against the blue water.
A barge towed behind the ship. The barge was gray, like a turd.
Two.
Quiet Aunt Natalia taught me to recite a prayer, her face round like a child's, her eyes so clear that through those eyes it seemed as if you could look into her head and see everything behind her head.
I was very jazzed about her eyes and couldn't stop staring.
She narrowed her eyes, looked down at her head, and said quietly,
"Ah, please repeat after me, 'Our Father who art in Heaven' Quickly?"
I wasn't sure why it was getting worse the more I asked, so I deliberately mispronounced it.
But my soft aunt just patiently corrected my pronunciation and didn't get angry at all.
That made me angry.
On this day, Grandpa asked me:
"Alyokaika, what are you doing today? Play come on!"
"I see you have a piece of blue on your head, I know at a glance how you get. Getting a bruise isn't much of a feat!"
"I'm asking you, have you recited the 'Lord's Prayer' yet?"
Auntie said quietly:
"He doesn't remember it very well."
Grandmother let out a sneer and raised her red eyebrows.
"Then he's going to get a beating!"
He asked again,
"Did your father ever beat you?"
I didn't know what he meant by his question, so I didn't answer.
My mother said,
"Maxine never hit him and told me not to hit him either."
"Why?"
"He thinks you can't educate people with a put together fist."
"What an unmitigated fool! God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead!"
Grandfather cursed under his breath. ......"
I feel insulted.
"Aha, and you pouted!"
He slapped my head and added,
"Saturday, I'm going to whip Sahija3!"
----- ③Sahiga: is Sasha's contemptuous term of endearment.
"What's 'smack'?"
Everyone laughed.
Grandpa said,
"You'll find out later!"
I began to wonder in my mind about the difference between "smacking"
and "beating", and I knew what "beating" was all about, beating cats and dogs, and Astrakhan's Police beat up Persians.
Three.
On the contrary, I like Sasha from Mikhail's family, who is always inactive, quiet, and unobtrusive.
The melancholy in his eyes was much like his mother's, and he was gentle.
His teeth were so long that his mouth couldn't pocket them and they were exposed. He often tapped his teeth with his hand for fun, and if others wanted to tap them they could.
He was always alone, sitting in a dim corner or in front of a window in the evening.
It was fun to sit with him, often for an hour without a word.
We sat shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the window, looking out at the evening sun in the western sky and watching the black crows circling over the golden roof of the Usconian church.
The crows flew around, one moment blocking out the dark red light of the sky, the next flying off to who knows where, leaving an empty sky.
Looking at all this, not wanting to say a word, a kind of pleasant, a kind of sweet melancholy filled my intoxicated heart.
Sasha from Yaakov's house spoke about everything. When he realized that I wanted to dye cloth, he asked me to try it with the white tablecloth in the cupboard, which was only used during the holidays, to see if I could dye it blue. He said,
"I know, white is the best to dye!"
I pulled the tablecloth out into the yard with a great deal of effort, and had just pressed a corner of it into the bucket where the indigo was kept, when Ibaraki came from nowhere.
As soon as he snatched the cloth over and twisted it hard, he shouted to Sasha, who was staring at my work,
"Go, call your grandmother!"
He knew something was wrong and said to me,
"It's over, you're going to get a beating!"
Grandma came running, screaming, almost crying, and cursing,
"You Belmirian4, big-eared ghost! Drop dead!"
Four,
Sasha stood up, slowly took off his pants, and, with both hands, staggered down to the bench.
Watching his series of movements, my legs couldn't help but tremble as well.
Sasha's howl rose steeply.
"Pretend, I'll let you scream, and then I'll taste this!"
Each blow was a red, swollen line, and his cousin's pig-killing grunts were deafening.
Granddaddy was unmoved:
"Hey, you know, this one is for the thimble!"
My heart went up and down with Grandpa's hand.
Cousin started to bite me:
"Oops, I won't dare again, I ratted on the dyed tablecloth!"
Granddad said without haste:
"Snitching, ha, now that's for your snitching!"
"No, devil, I won't let you hit Alexei!"
She kicked at the door and called out to my mother,
"Varvara!"
Grandfather rushed up in a single bound, pushed Grandmother down, and snatched me up.
I struggled desperately, pulling at his red beard and biting his arm.
He let out a wild yell of ow and slammed me against the stool, falling odd my face.
"Tie him up and beat him to death!"
Mother's face went white, her eyes glaring out blood:
"Dad, don't fight! Leave it to me!"
Granddad's painful beating made me faint.
After Huan came and got very sick again, he flopped on his bed and stayed there for days.
The small house where I stayed had only a small window in the corner, and there were a few glass boxes used for entering icons in the room, with a long lamp lit in front.
This illness is y engraved in the depths of my memory.
Because in the midst of these days of illness, I suddenly grew up. I had a very special feeling of sensitive self-esteem.
Grandma and my mother had a fight: all black and huge, grandma pushed my mother into the corner of the house and said angrily,
"You, why don't you snatch him?"
"I, I was scared silly!"
"Shame on you! Varvara, you've grown so big for nothing. I'm not even afraid of an old woman, but you're scared silly!"
"Mom, stop it!"
"No, I'll say it, he's a poor querulous orphan!"
The mother shouted,
"But I am an orphan myself!"
They sat in the corner and cried for a long time, and the mother said:
"If it hadn't been for Alexei, I would have left this abominable hell long ago!
"Mother, I couldn't stand ...... it long ago,"
Grandmother softly urged:
"Alas, my heart, my darling!"
I suddenly realized that my mother was not strong, she was just as afraid of Grandma as anyone else.
I was the one who got in her way and kept her away from the damn family.
But not long after that, I didn't see my mother anymore and wondered where she had gone.
On this day, Grandfather came suddenly.
He sat down on the bed and touched my head; his hands were cold.
"Young master, how is it? Say something, why don't you say anything?"
I didn't even look at him, I just wanted to kick him out.
"Ah, look, what have I brought you?"
I looked at him.
He sat there shaking his head, his hair and beard redder than usual, his eyes glowing, and holding a bunch of things:
A sugar cookie, two sugar horns, an apple, and a packet of raisins.
He kissed my forehead and touched my head.
V.
The one who impressed me most was the young man Tzigane.
With broad shoulders and curly hair, he came to my bed one evening.
He wore a golden-colored shirt and new leather shoes, like he was on holiday. Especially striking in the dark were his snow-white teeth under his small black beard.
"Ah, look at my arms!" He said as he rolled up his sleeve, "Look how swollen it was, and how much better it is now! Your granddad was simply mad, and I used this arm to block it, to try and stall that strip of tree, so that I could carry you away while your granddad went for the other willow branch.
"But the tree bar was too soft, and I took a few hard hits!"
"Count your blessings, little one!"
He laughed, a very gentle laugh:
He blew his nose hard, like a horse.
I thought he was so innocent and cute.
I told him about this feeling, and he said:
"Ah, I love you too, and it's for that very reason that I went to save you!"
"I wouldn't do that for anyone else."
"I'll tell you what, next time you get beat up, don't hold your body tight, loosen up, stretch out, take deep breaths, and yell like you're killing a pig, got it?"
"Are you going to beat me again?"
"You think that's the end of it? Of course you'll be hit again." He said it very calmly.
"Why?"
"Why? He'll keep finding ways to beat you anyway!"
After a pause, he added:
"Just remember, Kuai unfolds and lies!"
"If he knocked the branch down, but also on the momentum to whip back, that is to whip off your skin, you must turn your body with him, remember?"
He squeezed his eyes
"No problem, I'm an old hand at this, kiddo, and I'm beating my skin hard all over!"
I looked at him with pleasure as if he were talking about someone else's pain, and I couldn't help but think of the story my grandma told about Prince Ivan and Ivan the Fool.
Six
I followed her around the yard all day, stringing along with her, and sometimes she would sit for hours at a time in other people's homes, drinking tea and telling all sorts of stories.
I always followed her, almost becoming her tail.
In the midst of this account of my life, my mind is blank except for this old lady who was busy all day long.
One time I asked my grandmother,
"Do you know witchcraft?
She smiled, pondered for a moment and said:
"Witchcraft is a discipline, it's very difficult, I can't do it, I can't read!
"Look at your grandpa, he's so smart, he can read, the Holy Mother didn't make me smart!"
Then she told her own story:
"I was orphaned when I was a child, and my mother was poor and a cripple!
"When she was a daughter she let the landlord scare her so much that she jumped out of a window at night and fell and crippled half of her body!
"Her right hand atrophied. This was a fatal blow to a woman who sold lace for a living!
"The landlord drove her away. She wandered around, begging for a living. In those days, people were richer than they are now, and the carpenters and lace weavers of Barahana were kind.
"Every year, as soon as it was fall, my mother and I stayed in the city and begged for food, and when the archangel Gavrillo gave a wave of his sword and drove away the winter, we went onward, as far as we could.
"Been to Murom, been to Yulewitz, never traveled up the Volga, never traveled up the Quiet Oka.
"It's a beautiful thing to wander the land after spring and summer! The grass is green, the flowers are blooming, and you are free to breathe the sweet, warm air!
"Sometimes Mother closes her blue eyes and sings, and the flowers and trees firm their ears, and Nei stops, and the earth listens to her singing!
"The life of wandering was really fun, but as I grew up, my mother felt it was a bit embarrassing to lead me around to beg for food again.
"So we stayed in the city of Barahana, and every day she went out into the streets, begging from door to door, and on any feast day, she went to the door of the church and waited for people to give her alms.
"As for me, I sat at home and learned to knit lace, and I learned it desperately, wanting to learn it so that I could help my mother.
"In a little more than two years I had learned to make a name for myself, and people knew to come to me for crafts: 'Hey, Akulia, knit me one!' I was especially happy, like it was New Year's Eve!
"It's all because Mom taught me well, of course; even though she only has one hand and can't manipulate it, she's very good at pointing it out, and you know, a good teacher is more important than anything else!
"I couldn't help but be a little bit at him. I said, 'Mom, you don't have to beg anymore, I can feed you!' She said, 'Shut up, you have to realize that this is for you to save money for dowry!' "Then your grandpa showed up, and he was a young man out of the public, only 22 years old, and he was the foreman of a big ship!
"Her mother scrutinized me carefully, she thought I was quite handy and honest for a beggar's daughter.
"She was a bread seller, and very fierce ...... "Alas, do not recall this, why recall bad people? God's heart knows best."
Speaking of this, she laughed. Nose ridiculously twitching, eyes sparkle, which makes me feel especially kind.
VII.
I disliked him very much for this unintentional remembering, but it was imprinted on my memory in a way that could not be erased.
He remembers the past all the time, there is no fairy tale or story in his head, only the past, he doesn't like people to ask him, to ask questions, but I am inclined to ask him:
"Ah, who do you say is better then, the French or the Russians?"
"Well, who knows? It's not like I've ever seen how the French live in their own homes!"
"Well, are the Russians good?"
"There are good ones, and not bad ones."
"Maybe they were worse in slave times, when people were kept tied up with ropes.
"Now it's good to be free, but so poor that you don't even have bread and salt.
"The lords are naturally not very charitable, but they are shrewd, and of course there are fools whose heads are like pockets, and they will take whatever you put in them."
"Are the Russians strong?"
"There are a lot of Hercules, but only strength is useless, you have to be agile, because you can't be as strong as a horse!"
"Why did the French attack us?"
"That is a matter for the emperors, we do not know."
"What does Napoleon do?"
He was a man with ambitions to conquer the world, and then to make all people live the same, no lords or inferiors, no hierarchy, all equal, just different names.
"And of course there is only one faith. That's a lot of nonsense! The only thing in the sea that looks the same is the lobster, and there's no way to tell the difference, but there are all kinds of fish: trout and catfish don't get along, and sturgeon and mackerel can't be friends.
"We have also had Napoleonicists in Russia, what Racine Stepan, Timofeyev, what Bugach, Yemelyan, Ivanov ......"
He gazed at me in silence, his eyes round, as if seeing me for the first time. seeing me for the first time.
This was a bit upsetting.
He had never talked to me about my father or mother.
Grandma often walked in while we were talking.
She sat in the corner and didn't say a word for a long, long time, as if she wasn't there.
But then she would suddenly and softly interject:
"Gramps, don't you remember how nice it was when we went to Mulom Chao Shan?
What year was that again?"
Grandfather thought for a moment and replied seriously,
"Yes, it was before the great epidemic of mold and mildew, the year we caught the Orangets in the woods, wasn't it?"
"That's right, that's right!" "That's right!"
I asked again:
"What did the Orangets do? Why did they flee to the woods?"
Grandfather said with a little bit of patience:
"They are ordinary old hundreds, escaped from the country material in the factory."
"How to catch them?"
"It's like a child playing hide-and-seek, some run, some chase "When caught, they are whipped with tree strips, beaten with whips, their noses are broken, and marks are smashed on their foreheads as a mark of discipline."
"Why?"
"That's hard to say, not something we're meant to understand."
VIII.
Mother bent down and sharpened my clothes, spinning them around and around, spinning me like a leather ball.
She wore a long red gown with a row of big black buttons, pinned diagonally from her shoulders to her lower lapels.
We'd never seen such a garment before.
Her eyes were bigger and her hair more yellow:
"Why don't you say something? Not happy?
"Look how dirty the clothes are ......"
She wiped my ear with goose oil, and it hurt a little. She smelled quite nice and eased the pain a bit.
I snuggled up to her and couldn't speak for a long, long time.
Grandma was a bit upset:
"He's so wild, he's not afraid of anyone, not even his grandpa, alas, Varya ......"
"Mom, it will be fine, it will be fine! "
Mother was so tall that everything around her seemed even smaller. She stroked my hair:
"It's time to go to school. You want to study, don't you?"
"I already know how to read."
"Really? You need to read more!
"Look how strong you've grown!"
She smiled, a warm smile.
Granddad walked in listlessly.
"Let me go? Dad."
He made no sound. Stood there scratching his fingernails against the ice on the window.
The silence was so unbearable that my chest nearly burst.
"Alexei, get out!" He yelled suddenly.
"What are you doing!" My mother pulled me back.
"I forbid you to go!"
Mother stood up, like a red cloud:
"Dad, listen ......"
"You shut up!"
Granddad shouted.
"Please don't yell!"
Mother said softly.
Grandmother stood up:
"Varvara!"
Grandmother sat down:
"How can you be in such a hurry? Huh?"
But he suddenly yelled again:
"You've disgraced me, Varvara! ......"
"You get out!"
Grandma ordered me.
I went unhappily to the kitchen and climbed onto the bed to listen to the sometimes heated and sometimes surprisingly calm conversation next door.
They were talking about the child the mother had had, and for some reason, Grandmother was angry.
Maybe it was because the mother had given the child away without saying hello to the family.
They came into the kitchen.
Grandpa looked tired and grandma wiped her tears.
The grandma knelt down in front of the grandpa in:
"For God's sake, spare her!"
nine,
I sat on the bed hearth and thought about how to avenge my grandmother's death.
It was the first time I had witnessed him beating grandma so ugly. In the dimly lit room, he was red-faced, desperately swinging and kicking, his blonde hair fluttering in the air ...... I felt tolerated, I hate myself for not being able to think of a good method to take revenge! Two days later, for what it's worth, I went upstairs to find him.
He was sitting on the floor sorting out the papers in a box, and on the chair, there were his precious statues, twelve sheets of thick gray paper, each divided into squares according to the number of days in a month, and in each square were all the icons for that day.
Grandpa treasured these images and only let me see them when he was particularly happy.
Whenever I saw these little gray figures arranged tightly together, I always had a feeling.
I know something about some of the saints: Kilik, Urid, Varvara, Ponjeliman, to name a few.
I especially love the sad-flavored biography of the godman Alexei, and I still have the wonderful poems that sing his praises.
Every time you get to the point where there are several hundred of these relatives, you feel some comfort in your heart: it turns out that there have been so many sufferers in the world for a long time!
There have been, and now I will destroy these icons!
While Granddad went to the window to look at a blue-colored paper with an eagle on it, I grabbed a few of the icons and flew down.
I grabbed my shears and cut out the rows of heads without hesitation, but then I suddenly regretted the pictures, and cut along the lines where the trees were divided into squares.
Just then, Grandpa chased me down:
"Who told you to take the icon?
What are you doing?"
He grabbed the piece of paper on the ground and stuck it to the tip of his nose to see.
The beard trembled and his breathing quickened and thickened, blowing chunks of paper off the floor. "You did this!"
He shouted, grabbing my feet and throwing my nephew through the air.
Grandmother caught me, and Grandfather hit her, hit me, and screamed furiously,
"Death to you all!"
Mother came running.
She caught us and pushed Grandpa away:
"Wake up! What's going on?"
Grandpa lay on the floor, screaming:
"You guys, you guys beat me to death! Ah......"
"Shame on you? Like a child!"
Mother's voice was low.
Granddad sputtered, both legs kicking on the ground, his beard cocked ridiculously skyward, and his eyes squeezed shut.
Mother looked at the cut-out pieces of paper and said,
"I'll stick them to fine cloth, that relative is stronger!"
"You see, it's all rubbed out ......"
She spoke in exactly the same tone as I did in class.
X.
Sasha was a big-headed doll, always staring at everything around him without blinking. He learned to talk very early, rarely cried, and was happy to let me hold him when he saw me, touching my ears with his soft little fingers.
He died suddenly without much illness, fine in the morning, his body stiff when the bells rang for evening prayers.
That was shortly after the birth of the second child, Nicola.
With my mother's assistance, my entry at school was restored to what it had been, but they were sending me back to my maternal grandfather.
One evening, I heard my mother's voice hoarse in the yard,
"Yevgeny, you, I beg you ......"
"Bastard! "
"I know, you were going to her!"
"Yes, how about that?"
There was a silence.
Mother strained to howl,
"You, you're an unmitigated villain ......"
Then there was the sound of pouncing.
I rushed in to see my stepfather, fully clothed, kicking my paralyzed mother as hard as he could!
Mother's lifeless eyes looked up at the ceiling, her mouth huffing and puffing ...... I copied the bread knife from the table - the only thing my father had left for my mother - and -and stabbed my stepfather in the back lifelessly.
Mother saw it and pushed my stepfather away, the knife slicing his shirt.
The stepfather screamed and ran away.
Mother wrestled me to the ground and grabbed the knife.
Stepfather walked away.
Mother put her arms around me, kissed me, and cried:
"Forgive your poor mother, dear, how could you move the knife?"
I told her I would kill my stepfather and then myself.
I said it with conviction and an ounce of irreverence, and it was completely unquestionable!
To this day, I can see that repulsive leg with a distinctive floral ornament along the trouser leg and see it kicking at a woman's breast!
Remembering these lead-heavy sounding facets of old Russian life, I often ask myself: was it worth it!
For ugliness is also a reality that has not been extinct until today! To remove them from our lives, it is necessary to understand them.
Despite the fact that they are so heavy, so suffocating, so ominous, the Russian soul bravely broke through, overcame and conquered them!
Ugliness, meanness and health, goodness grow together in this vast and fertile land, and the latter ignites our hope that happiness will not be out of reach forever!
ChildhoodRussian Maxim Gorky13I moved to my grandpa's again.
"Aha, kid, what's wrong?
"Let your grandma keep you!"
"I'll raise you if you let me, how hard do you think this is!"
"Then you raise it!"
Granddad roared.