It was a tragic story told by a true, good and beautiful genius, and the bizarre and dark life was full of too much cruelty.
I'm not just talking about myself. The narrow and breathless horror I'm talking about is a real life that ordinary Russians once had and has not disappeared until now.
Grandpa's family is full of hatred. Everything between adults is linked by hatred, and the children are scrambling to join the ranks.
later, I learned from my grandmother that when my mother came, her two younger brothers were urging my grandfather to separate.
My mother brought me back to this big family suddenly, which made their desire of separation even more urgent.
they are afraid that their mother will ask grandpa for the dowry she should have received. The dowry was withheld because the mother married against her father's orders. The two uncles agreed that the dowry should belong to them.
In addition, of course, there are other trivial matters, such as who runs the dye house in the city and who goes to the village of Navino on the other side of the Oka River to open the dye house, and so on. They are noisy.
just a few days after we arrived, a quarrel broke out in the kitchen.
After brushing the floor, both uncles stood up, leaned forward, pointed at the grandfather across the table and roared, grinning like a dog.
Grandpa knocked on the table with a rice spoon, his face flushed, and the rooster crowed:
"Get out of here and beg!" "
Grandma said bitterly:
"All right, give it all to them, split it up and get it clean, so as not to make any more noise!"
"Shut up, you are used to it!" Grandpa is small, but his voice is surprisingly high and deafening.
My mother stood up and went to the window. Turn your back on everyone and say nothing.
At this moment, Uncle Mikhail suddenly swung his arm and slapped his brother!
The younger brother grabbed him, and they rolled into a ball on the ground, panting, cursing and groaning.
the children started crying with fear.
Aunt Natalya, who was pregnant, shouted and persuaded desperately, but my mother dragged her away.
Yebiangenia, the pockmarked-faced nanny who is always cheerful, kicked the children out of the kitchen.
My uncles are all subdued now:
Tzgang, a strong young apprentice, rode on my uncle Mikhail's back, while Gregory Ivanovich, a bald bearded man, calmly tied his hand with a towel.
my uncle gasped and was pressed tightly on the floor, and his beard stuck in the seam of the floor.
Grandpa stamped his feet and beat his chest, wailing:
"You are brothers!
alas! "
at the beginning of the war, I jumped on the kang. I was curious and scared, and looked at what was happening in front of me.
Grandma washed the blood on Uncle Yakov's face with water from a copper basin. He cried and stamped his feet with anger.
grandma said sadly:
"bastards, it's time to wake up!" "
Grandpa pulled his torn shirt over his shoulder and shouted at his grandmother:
"Old woman, look at these animals you gave birth to!" "
Grandma hid in the corner and wailed:
"Mother of God, please let my children know something about human nature!"
Grandpa stood in front of her in a daze and looked at the mess in a room. He whispered,
"Old woman, you can pay attention, or they will bully varvara! ？”
oh, god bless, take off your shirt quickly and I'll sew it for you! "She is taller than grandpa, and when she hugs grandpa, grandpa's head sticks to her shoulder.
"Hey, let's split up, old woman!"
"divide it, old man!"
they talked softly for a long time, but in the end, grandpa screamed like a rooster crowing again.
He pointed to his grandmother and shouted,
"Come on, you love them more than I do!"
"But what sons are you raising? Michiga (1) is a heartless donkey, and Hocine Yahi (2) is a member of the aid society!"
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(1) Michiga and Yahiga: contempt terms for Mikhail and Yakov respectively.
②*** Jihui: It is a religious group that came into being in Europe in the 18th century. Its members are liberal figures, informal and customs, and unique. It turned into swearing words.
"They will eat up all my possessions!"
as soon as I rolled over, I knocked off the iron and fell into the dirty basin.
Grandpa sprang at me, picked me up and stared at my face as if it was the first time he saw me:
"Who told you to be here? Is it your mother? "
"myself."
"nonsense."
"It's not nonsense, I went up by myself."
He pointed to my forehead and threw me to the ground:
"Just like your father! Get out! "
I ran out of the kitchen quickly.
I don't know why my grandfather's sharp green eyes are always staring at me. I'm very afraid of him.
I tried my best to avoid him. He has a bad temper. He is never kind to others. That "hi" is long and boring.
During the break, or during the evening tea, grandpa, uncles and other guys came back from the workshop. They were all exhausted, their hands were red with red rosewood and their skin was burned by sulfate.
Their hair is tied with ribbons, just like a blackened icon in the corner of the kitchen.
Grandpa sat opposite me and talked with me, which made his grandchildren very envious.
Grandpa is thin and well-defined, with a strange hole in his T-neck silk vest, a wrinkled printed shirt and patches on his trousers.
That's him. He's cleaner and prettier than the other two sons wearing bras and triangular silk scarves.
a few days after we arrived, he began to teach me to pray.
All the other children are older than me. They all learn to read at an altar in the church of Uspinnier. The golden spire of the church can be seen from home.
My quiet aunt Natalya taught me to say prayers. Her face is round like a child, and her eyes are crystal clear. Through her eyes, it seems that she can see through her head and see everything behind her head.
I love her eyes very much and I can't take my eyes off them.
Her eyes narrowed, she looked down and said quietly,
"Oh, please repeat after me:' Our father in heaven'. Come on?"
I don't know why the more I ask, the worse I get, so I deliberately mispronounce it.
But my weak aunt just corrected my pronunciation patiently and was not angry at all.
that makes me angry.
On this day, grandpa asked me:
"Aliao Huika, what did you do today? Come and play! "
"I see you have a bruise on your head. I can tell at a glance how you did it. It's not a great ability to get a piece of green! "
"I ask you, have you learned the Lord's Prayer?"
My aunt said quietly,
"He has a bad memory."
grandpa sneered and raised his red eyebrows.
"then you'll have to be beaten!"
He asked:
"Did your father hit you?"
I didn't know what he was asking, so I didn't answer.
My mother said,
"Ma Kexin never hit him. Let me not hit him either."
"why?"
"He thinks that people can't be educated with fists."
"What a real fool! God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead! "
grandpa scolded angrily.
I feel insulted.
"Aha, you pursed your mouth!"
He patted me on the head and said,
"Saturday, I want to smoke Sassi and ③!"
---------
-③ Sassi Jia: it's a contemptuous title for Sasha.
"what is' pumping'?"
everyone laughed.
Grandpa said,
"You will know later!"
I began to ponder the difference between "beating"
and "beating". I know what "beating" is, beating cats and dogs, and the police in astrakhan beat Persians.
but I haven't seen the children yet.
When uncles punish children, they bounce their fingers on their foreheads or the back of their heads.
The children seem to be used to it, so they feel the place where they can afford their bags and go to play again.
I asked,
"Does it hurt?"
They bravely replied:
"It doesn't hurt at all!"
they got shot for the thimble.
One night, after tea, I was about to have dinner. My two uncles and Gregory sewed the dyed materials together into a piece of cloth, and finally put a paper label on it.
Uncle Mikhail wants to play a practical joke on Gregory, who is almost blind. He asks his 9-year-old nephew to heat his thimble on a candle.
Sasha was very obedient. He took tweezers with thimble and burned it. After it became red, he secretly put it at Gregory's hand and then hid.
But at this time, my grandfather came. He wanted to help, so he sat down and put on the thimble slowly.
When I heard shouting and ran into the kitchen, my grandfather was wiping his ears with his burnt fingers. He jumped up and shouted,
"Who did this? You bastards! "
Uncle Mikhail lies prone on the bed, blowing thimble with his mouth.
Gregory still sews his cloth, quietly, and huge shadows are dangling with his bald head.
Uncle Yakov also ran in, hiding his face and smiling.
Grandma is wiping the potatoes with her hand.
Uncle Mikhail looked up and suddenly said,
"This was done by Sassi of Yakov!"
"nonsense!"
Yakov roared and jumped up.
His son cried,
"Dad, he made me do it!"
the two uncles started cursing.
at this time, grandpa had lost his temper, pasted potato skins on his fingers and led me away.
Everyone agrees that it was Uncle Mikhail's fault.
I asked:
"Do you want to slap him?"
"yes!" Grandpa gave me a sideways look.
Uncle Mikhail got angry and shouted at my mother:
"varvara, be careful with your sons of bitches, don't let me rip his head off!"
Mother showed no weakness:
"I dare not!"
everyone was silent for a moment.
Mother's speech is often so short and powerful that she can push others thousands of miles away with one click.
I know that other people are a little afraid of their mother, and grandpa is also cautious when talking to her.
I am particularly proud of this. I once said to my cousins,
"My mother has the greatest strength!" "
no one objected.
But what happened on Saturday shook my faith in my mother.
I made a mistake before Saturday.
I'm very interested in the technique that adults skillfully dye cloth. Yellow cloth becomes sapphire blue when it meets black water. Gray cloth turns cherry red when it meets yellow-brown water.
it's so wonderful that I can't figure it out.
I really want to try it myself.
I told this idea to Sasha of Yakov's family.
Sasha is a good boy. He is always around adults, and he is good with everyone. He will obey anyone who asks him to do something.
Almost everyone praised him as a clever boy, except grandpa, who glanced at Sasha sideways and said,
"You can be clever and clever!" "
Sasha is dark and thin, with protruding eyes. When he speaks, he is out of breath, and he is often choked by himself.
he always looks around, as if he is watching for an opportunity.
I quite hate him.
On the contrary, I quite like Sasha of Mikhail's family. He is always quiet and unobtrusive.
The melancholy in his eyes is very similar to his mother's, and his personality is gentle.
His teeth are so distinctive that his mouth can't hold them, and they are all exposed. He often taps his teeth for fun, if others want to.
He is always alone, sitting in a dark corner, or sitting at the window in the evening.
it's fun to sit with him, often for an hour without saying a word.
We sat side by side in front of the window, watching the sunset glow in the western sky, and watching the black crows hovering on the golden dome of Usconier church.
crows fly around, covering the dark red sky for a while, and then flying to some unknown place, leaving an empty sky.
looking at all this, I don't want to say a word. A kind of happiness and a kind of sweet melancholy filled my intoxicated heart.
Sasha of Yakov's family is right in everything he says. After he knew I wanted to dye the cloth, he asked me to try the white tablecloth in the cupboard for the holidays and see if I could dye it blue.
He said,
"I know, white is the best dye!"
I had a hard time pulling the tablecloth into the yard. As soon as I put a corner of the tablecloth into the bucket of indigo, Zgang came from nowhere.
He grabbed handfuls of cloth and twisted it hard. He shouted to Sasha, who was staring at my work,
"Go and call your grandmother!"
He knew something was wrong and said to me,
"It's over, you'll have to be beaten!"
Grandma flew in and let out a cry, almost crying, and cursed:
"You Bermi, you big-eared ghost! Fall to death! "
----------
-Bermi: refers to the Finns. But she immediately advised Zgang:
"Vanya, don't tell the old man! Try to hide it! "
Vanya, wiping her hands on her colorful apron, said,
"I'm afraid Sasha can't keep a secret!" "
"Well, I'll give him two kopecks!"
Grandma took me back to the house.
Saturday.
I was asked to go to the kitchen before evening prayers.
it's dark in the kitchen, and it's raining incessantly outside. In the dim shadow, there is a very tall chair with a sullen Zokan sitting on it.
grandpa is fiddling with some tree strips soaked in water and dancing one from time to time. Swish ring.
Grandma stood at a distance, smoking snuff, and murmured,
"Alas, you are still putting on an act, troublemaker!"
Sasha of Yakov sat on a small stool in the middle of the kitchen, constantly wiping his eyes, and his voice changed, like an old beggar:
"Please, please, give me a break ..."
Two children of Uncle Mikhail, my cousins, stood beside him. They were also stupefied and scared.
grandpa spoke.
"Ok, I'll spare you, but I'll beat you first!"
"Hurry up, take off your pants!"
Then he pulled out a tree sliver.
The room was horribly quiet. Although there was grandpa's voice, Sasha's ass moving on the stool, and grandma's feet rubbing on the floor, nothing could surprise the silence that people would never forget in this dark kitchen.
Sasha stood up, slowly took off his pants, two hands in hand, and staggered down on the bench.
watching his series of movements, my legs couldn't help shaking.
sa