Two Suns. Дмитрий Наринский
an endless steppe. The air carried not just scents but also tastes, where the salty sea freshness mingled with the aroma of steppe grasses. Mark, naturally observant, had ample time to notice all the subtleties and nuances, the shifting moods and ever-changing aspects of nature as he ran errands for his parents or wandered with his friends.
Perhaps, it was the diversity of Henichesk that had a significant impact on shaping his character. However, it also meant that he was destined to outgrow his hometown, feeling the urge to explore beyond its limits.
Of course, Mark supported his sister's desire to leave Henichesk. What prospects awaited him in this town? The grueling toil at the port, assisting his father on commercial trips, or, in the best case, working for the Bersovs – his grandfather Zeide wouldn't refuse his only daughter's son – with the potential of becoming a storekeeper. However, firstly, these options held little appeal for the inquisitive young man. Secondly, they seemed to fade away on their own. Despite the bright memories of his childhood, the impressions of the harsh years weighed heavily on his future.
Mark couldn't yet precisely articulate what he aspired to do. Initially, he entertained the idea of joining the navy, but he had witnessed its less glamorous aspects since childhood and realized that there was little romance in the navy. Then, a completely different realm captured his imagination.
Over the years, Mark had repeatedly observed airplanes circling above the city and the sea, sailing gracefully through the sky with their engines moderately humming or pouncing fiercely like hungry seagulls, dropping deadly cargo. Sometimes, he received reprimands for his hesitance, being told to hurry to the basement for safety. Instead of hiding, he tried to watch each aircraft closely. Those were remarkable days, as various models soared through the sky: Voisins, Farmans, Nieuports, Sopwiths, and more.
Once, Mark had the extraordinary luck of witnessing an airplane with a truly enormous wingspan. At the time, he didn't know its name, Ilya Muromets, but it left a lasting impression on his imagination. Excitedly describing it to his friend Sergei, Mark exclaimed, «It's huge! The wings! The rumble it made was so loud, I could feel the vibrations inside me!» He gestured vigorously, trying to imitate the roar of a four-cylinder engine, and then ran around the yard with arms outstretched, reveling in his delight.
Even earlier, he had observed Lebed hydroplanes taking off and circling over the sea from the northeastern Azov coast. The airplane factory built in Taganrog in 1916 tested its new machines over the water, and sometimes they ventured beyond Taganrog Bay, much to the delight of the boys. When they heard the distant murmur of the engine, they would rush to the embankment to catch a better glimpse of the marvelous aircraft gliding in the clouds above the sea surface.
However, it was during the war that Mark truly witnessed the beauty and power of these winged machines, as they demonstrated their capabilities in combat conditions (if only his parents didn't interfere with watching these battles!).
By the time he turned fifteen, it had become clear to Mark that if he were to choose a profession, it must be connected with this new technology, with the sky. But in Henichesk, with its limited opportunities, and for a boy like Mark, the sky seemed so distant and unattainable…
The unexpected decision of his father to move to Moscow brought new opportunities. However, Yakov embarked on a reconnaissance trip to Moscow himself. In the city, the new economic policy, as insiders claimed, had already begun to work miracles, reviving the seemingly impossible with a life-giving elixir.
Chapter 7: Hopes and Losses
A couple of months later, Yakov returned to fetch his family. He had departed with a heavy heart, venturing into the unknown, but he returned with confidence that everything would fall into place as it should.
In the mid-1920s, as new societies, artels, and trusts emerged almost daily, there arose a need not just for laborers – there was plenty of that – but for people who were savvy and resourceful. Fortunately, Yakov managed to find a job rather swiftly. As a citizen of Jewish origin in a new place, the natural course was to approach the synagogue – they always offered help to their own people.
They advised him to seek out a certain Baruch Berkovich, the headman of a construction artel. Fortunately for Yakov, but to the dismay of Baruch, the artel's foreman had gone rogue and was expelled in disgrace. This was the perfect opportunity for Maretsky senior to utilize his experience as a traveling salesman, his negotiation skills, and, of course, his imposing appearance. «Schtark vl a ferd – strong as a horse,» his father used to say about him. The short, stocky Baruch gave Yakov a shrewd look but sternly inquired:
«Where are you from? What can you do?»
«From Henichesk…» And briefly, Yakov recounted what he had been doing since he was very young. He was immediately hired. The new occupation suited him perfectly, and he quickly became an indispensable assistant to the headman. Baruch even helped him with housing, introducing him to the right people.
Yakov shared all this with his family as they hurriedly packed up their rustic belongings. The journey was arduous, especially for Maria, but finally, they arrived in Moscow…
The capital immediately overwhelmed them with the clamor of the station square, the shouts of merchants, the clang of street – cars, and the rumble of wrought iron wheels on the sidewalk. In the evening, it dazzled them with bright shop windows and lights, astounding them with the abundance of advertising, especially in the main streets. Mark was enthralled. Since childhood, he had possessed the ability to marvel at even the smallest things and to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. Consequently, he immediately fell in love with the diverse and vibrant crowd, and with the seemingly endless streets that the streetcar carried them along from the station. The young provincial barely had enough time to turn his head, observing passers-by and reading the bright, promising signs: «Artel of Gastronomic Goods,» «Confectionery Cooperative,» «Metallotrest: Our Drills, Scythes, Axes – all Strong and Sharp.»
«Look at The Haberdashery Manufactories! It's not like the Bersov's store; have you seen their window?!» Mark marveled, familiar with the wisdom of trade from childhood, and astonished by the capital's grand scale.
«Anna, look, look, look! This is how the capital dresses!» Mark even leaned out of the window to catch a glimpse of the elegant girls – the kind he had only seen in movies – emerging from the arcade doors.
«Don't break your neck,» his father chuckled.
«Oh, the dresses are so beautiful…» Anna caught her brother's mood, and her apprehension towards passers-by transformed into curiosity.
«I'll get you a dress, don't worry.»
«You're boasting, son. Moscow has a temperament; it won't accept just anyone.»
In reality, Yakov, who himself had never been afraid to embark on a new venture, was pleased.
«We'll be kind to it, so why shouldn't it accept us!»
«You're quite the braggart, Mark!» The sarcastic tone held no malice; his sister trusted him wholeheartedly.
Only Maria did not share her family's optimism. Pale and exhausted from the journey she could barely bear the stifling heat in the crowded streetcar and tried not to sigh too loudly so as not to upset her husband and children. Only occasionally did she whisper to herself, «Meshuggah, meshuggah.» Yes, to newcomers, this city often seemed a little crazy.
They arrived at a rented apartment on 3rd Meshchanskaya Street, two cramped rooms without a kitchen – quite a fortune for those times. Yakov had deliberately chosen this neighborhood for its proximity to the former Sheremetev Hospital, now transformed into the Institute of Emergency Care, located on Bolshaya Sukharevskaya Square. Just in front of the hospital, standing like a fairy-tale palace at the foot of the renowned Sukharev Tower, was the bustling main market of the capital. The Moscow Soviet had closed down the market during the revolutionary turmoil, denouncing it as a «hotbed of speculation and crime.» However, with the advent of the New Economic Policy (NEP), trade had spontaneously revived, nearly matching its previous scale.
Thus, a new chapter