I am your woman!. Julia Rudenko
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.
The