Translated by Leyla Jafarova
The cemetery
was spread over quite a uncomfortable place, by the very road, that led from the
countryside to the cottages. And if you are sent to buy bread, and there is only
one baker’s in Pirshagi situated in the countryside, then you will necessarily
have to pass by the cemetery. Well, it is not so pleasant, especially if you are
sent for bread twice a day — in the morning and in the evening, when the fresh
bread is delivered from the bakery.
At day time
it is not so scary at the cemetery. Cemetery as a cemetery, nothing
particular.Gravesand thick grass between them. I have nowhere on this coast seen
such grass, just at this cemetery. Besides, at the cemetery there is a burial
built of brown stone. Evidently it had been built long ago, as the burial was
moss-grown, as if its walls were partially painted with grey colour.
If you peer
into this burial, you will see nothing at first and then when your eyes get used
to the darkness, you may see a human skeleton. It lies on the back and smiles. A
rather jolly skeleton. It makes one’s flesh creep. Well, of course it is so in
the afternoon — I haven’t yet met a man who would peep into the burials at
night...
At night,
there is no one at all passing by the cemetery, the people walk long way round it. The miller Sadikh says that
he can’t be made to go to the cemetery by any force. He says that at nights,
when an owl flies onto the fig-tree in front of our house and begins moaning,
that skeleton gets out of the burial, wanders about the cemetery and seeks
somebody to talk to. And this owl, by the way, comes every night... Anybody who
meets this skeleton immediately dies of a heart attack. Just one person didn’t
die — mad Tahir. Once at night, he met the skeleton. At the time he was quite
normal and just about to get married, but he got so scared of the skeleton that
he immediately went crazy. Now Tahir wanders about the cottages, all hairy and
unkempt, muttering to himself and not looking at anybody. Tahir has a house, he
lives there alone but he is almost always out — constantly wandering. They also
say that his own sister is a celebrated singer, but I think, it is a lie: I saw
her once , there is no resemblance between them. She is too beautiful! I
remember when at a concert in the philharmony they announced that she would sing
and she appeared at the stage, the people in the hall went crazy —they were
applauding so much. Fine actors had performed before her, but the people were
sitting and talking as though those actors were performing not for them.... No,
she can’t be Tahir’s sister, it is impossible.
Just now we
are going from the baker’s past the cemetery. It is getting dark. Tima hurries
on —he doesn’t like this place very much. Once he had confessed that while
passing by the cemetery, it seemed to him that somebody pursued him and tried to
peep into his face from behind his back. Though Tima is actually courageous, he
is afraid of the skeleton.
When we came
home, our grandmother told us that we, together with Tima, had been invited to
our neighbour’s place for a birthday party of one of their children. We went, of
course, in order not to stay at home in the evening. Grandmother kept on and on
saying how bad it was to go without a present though she knew well enough that
in the evening in Pirshagi one couldn’t find anything but goat’s milk and
water-melon.
Our
neighbours’ cottage is bigger than ours. They laid the table under the huge tree
in front of their house. The children and the grown-ups from all the
neighbouring cottages had gathered there. The hostess of the cottage came up to
us and asked when our parents would come and why our grandmother hadn’t come. As
a matter of fact, our grandmother is only mine, but all the people in Pirshagi
got used to that she was Tima’s grandmother as well; as he spends much of his
time at our place. Then all the guests sat at the table and began raising
toasts. One of the guests said that he wished that the children of the host
would be like their parents when they grew-up.
But what is the benefit of being like your father, I can’t get it. The
birthday boy’s father is short and completely red-haired. If I were to raise the
toast, I would wish this boy not to be like his parents, but nobody would ask me
to raise the toast. In fact, all the children drank just grape juice that
evening.
Then just in
front of the house a huge fire was made, and it became very cosy. The children
one by one were coming out on the square in front of the fire and reciting
poems; the guests pretended as if they liked that very much. When all the
children finished reciting poems, the guests remembered Tima and me as well. I
was forced to recite a poem.
Everyone
began laughing and at that moment I caught sight of her, Tahir’s sister. She was
laughing the loudest. I recognized her at once, as I had seen her before at the
concert. She came up to me, took me by hand and suggested singing something
together. She was singing so nicely! Not as loud as on the stage, not at the top
of her voice, but still it was nice and we all joined her. Tima was gazing at
her, and it was only him who wasn’t singing.
I always wake
up first, but this morning I have been woken by Tima. We washed up at the well
and went to pick some grapes for breakfast. The bushes were wet and cold with
dew, even the sand was wet. Then we took the fishing-rods and went to the sea.
We always come to the seaside earlier than others — the residents wake up later
and they come to the beach just by the evening when the water is warmed by the
sun. But today someone has come to the sea earlier. I have guessed at the
distance that it was her. I don’t know why, but I guessed. My heart even gave me
a start. When we approached her, she waved to us.
How beautiful
she is, Tahir’s sister! I have seen such beauties only in the movies before. I
would never have believed that it is possible to be so beautiful. She had a
scarf tied on her head. This scarf was like a geographical map: all the oceans,
seas, continents and all the countries, each one separately taken. Now there are
many such scarves, but then nobody but her had such one. At least I haven’t seen
anyone wearing such a scarf.
Tima and I never swam in the mornings, we just
went fishing. But that morning we both were splashing in the sea till we had
become stiff and goose-fleshed. After warming up, we began fishing, and she
showed us how to fish with sea fleas; earlier we had been fishing only with
worms and flies.
From that day
the three of us started going to the sea
every morning. Actually, we were together all day long, not just in the morning. She told us that she had
come to the cottage on vacation and in order to take Tahir with her, but nothing
would come of it evidently. Once she took him to the city but he fled to
Pirshagi. He is seldom at home in Pirshagi and no one knows where he spends the
nights, we don’t know
either. She bought everything new for him.
And we all three took Tahir to the barber. When Tahir had had his hair cut and
his beard shaved, we found out that Tahir wasn’t ugly at all and even was like
his beautiful sister in some way. The skin on his face turned out to be thin and
not sunburnt, and his eyes — hazel, like his sister’s – were so sad, that it was
very painful to look into his eyes.
The
neighbours told her that she had wasted her money as Tahir would all the same
wear out his new clothes in a few days. It turned out to be exactly so, but she
just didn’t care.
The
neighbours and our grandmother didn’t stop talking about her. They sighed and
said that happiness wasn’t in beauty; she was so beautiful and pretty but
couldn’t settle her destiny. Once the grandmother asked her directly why she
didn’t get married, but she just laughed in reply.
We got very
accustomed to her, and it seemed to us that she felt comfortable with us. At
least she went nowhere without us. And when our grandmother sent us to buy bread
she always accompanied us. When she was telling us something, Tima opened his
mouth, as all that was so interesting to him. That day as usual we went for
bread, and on our way back we met that person. A bus from the city had just
stopped at the main square in front of the baker’s. He had evidently arrived by
that bus or even earlier — on Sundays several buses arrive at Pirshagi. Having
seen us that person rushed towards us.
She wasn’t
surprised at all, she just said: —Why have you come? -then she turned to us
quite in a different tone: —Children, you go, I’ll catch up with you.
We went
ahead, and they walked behind us along the road. Tima seemed not to like that
person at all. I know Tima well enough to think so. He even got pale and was
constantly looking back. They were talking quietly behind us.
Suddenly that
person cried: —What should I do now, should I hang myself?! Any person in my
shoes would act likewise!
So, we began
listening to them. She said calmly: —Any funky in your shoes would act likewise,
any funky and nonentity! Did you understand me? I can’t see you any more!
Then she ran
up with us and when we were already near the cemetery she said: —Let’s have a
rest here in the shadow, I’m tired.
We sat on the
grass and she told us that it had been ten years ago when she had for the last
time been at the Pirshagi cemetery. She was our age then. She said not a single word about that person.
Tima was sitting pale and silent. He always feels ill at ease at the cemetery,
even during the day.
In the
morning, that person had appeared on the beach. First he was walking around, and
then he approached her. They were talking again. He tried to take her by her
hand, but she quickly stepped aside.
Then that
person said to Tima: —Boy, here is the money, buy a packet of cigarettes for me,
please.
—Go and buy
it yourself - was Tima’s answer.
It was for
the first time that Tima talked to grown-ups in such a manner. The person didn’t
say anything, he had rather miserable air and looked very strangely at Tima.
Then that person left and the three of us we went to swim, but she had been
thoughtful and silent all day long.
The time was
passing imperceptibly that month. At last that evening had come. We were sitting
in front of her house. It was one-storey house with a veranda. There was no one there
except the three of us. Tahir disappeared as soon as twilight set in. We were
sitting in silence, and she was singing quietly her favourite song. It was our
last evening. In the morning, she was to leave Pirshagi. Her vacation was over,
but we had August left till the beginning of our classes. What will we do
without her during the the whole month. I
wasn’t looking forward to it. Neither was Tima, and he was sitting quite silent.
Since he found out that she was to leave he has been silent. And the grandmother
says that Tima has become thin, perhaps he has been eyed.
I remember
that evening as if it was yesterday today. It was a stuffy July evening. It
smelled nice of the flowers of that tree with silver leaves — I can never
remember it’s name. We couldn’t see the moon or the stars. She stopped singing
and now we three fell silent. Then that cursed owl flew in, perched on a branch
— neither the tree nor the owl could be seen in darkness - and began moaning
disgustingly. Then the miller Sadikh came and said that it was a bad sign that
the owl howled every night and he, Sadikh, couldn’t shoot it. Then he began to
retell dreadful stories about the owl and the skeleton, but nobody was listening
to him that evening.
Then she went
in to pack her things. The bus was to leave for the city at half past six in the
morning. She quickly packed her belongings — she didn’t have a lot and suddenly
said that she had lost her scarf somewhere - that very one - geographical. We
began asking ourselves where she could have left it and decided that she had
left it at the cemetery when we stopped on our back way from the countryside.
She said that she would stop there before the departure of the bus to pick it
up. Then Sadikh asked if she needed any help taking her things to the
countryside in the morning; she stepped out on the threshold to answer him and
suddenly asked where Tima was. Tima had disappeared indeed. Just then he had
been there, and now he was absent. She said that probably Tima had gone to the
cemetery to take her scarf. I also thought so, though I knew that Tima was
afraid even to go past the cemetery at night. Nevertheless I thought that he was
there. Until now I haven’t the least notion why I had such a thought. The miller
Sadikh laughed and said that there was not a single man in Pirshagi who could go
to the cemetery at night. Even the chief of police wouldn’t dare go to the
cemetery at night, not to mention a child.
She didn’t
answer him and went to the cemetery, and we, together with Sadikh, followed her.
Sadikh was muttering under his nose that all was in vain and even if Tima went
there, he had already died of a heart attack. I noticed that Sadikh was awfully
scared.
First she was
walking, then she began running. Several minutes later, we had reached the
cemetery. The moon came out, and the chinars at the entrance and the tombstone
dropped black shadows on the white sand. Silence. Only the crickets were
jangling and the sand was creaking under our feet... We dropped behind the
fence, made several steps and suddenly caught the sight of Tima near the burial,
but he was not alone - in front of him was a high shadow. Then it seemed to us
that it was shadow.
Tima was
speaking calmly about something. All off a sudden a terrible scream rang out -
it was Sadikh who rushed headlong from behind the cemetery fence.
We ran up to
Tima and saw that he was speaking to Tahir. It turned out that Tima had come to
the cemetery and found the scarf, and was already about to leave when somebody
called him. Tima turned around and saw that a thin long shadow was descending
the burial... Of course it wasn’t the skeleton, it was Tahir, who spent every
night at the cemetery. So he appeared to spend the nights exactly there...
Tima came up
to us and gave the scarf to her. Probably it was in the light of the moon that
he seemed so pale. She took the scarf and didn’t utter a word.
As usual we
were returning home, the three of us and Tahir followed us muttering something
unclear... Where had Sadikh so quickly disappeared, we didn’t have a guess. We
approached her house and began saying farewell. She put her hands on Tima’s
shoulders and kissed first him, then - me. She said:
—You will be
kind and brave men!
But I felt
then that she was referring to Tima, only to him.
We left...
At night, I woke up hearing Tima
cry. I had never heard Tima crying before. Last year when he was bitten by a
snake and his leg swelled and became thick like a log even then he didn’t cry...
In the morning he left. And Sadikh was telling everybody in Pirshagi that he had
never in his life met a man as courageous as Tima!