At the very edge of this suburb we bought a house which was on a big block of land and had a large shed. Soon four goats, 20 hens and two roosters appeared in the yard. My duty was to take the goats to the pasture and help mother to milk them.
At the beginning I was scared of the goats; it seamed to me that they any moment can attack me, but soon they turned to be friendly. Specially one old goat amused me which got the habit to suck out milk from her own udder. I called her “Milk-Pail.” Soon, we sold her.
Opposite us, over the road, lived the teacher, “Sergey Petrovich.” He had a son, “Victor,” about the same age as I. hey kept three goats and Victor used to drive them for pasture. Soon we decided to take our goats to pasture together.
- “I’ll show you a new place for pasturing.” Informed Victor.
- “Where is it?” I asked.
- “Soon we’ll approach it.”
We brought the goats up to the end of the field. Behind it was a steep bluff after which extended a smooth place covered with reeds and sedge and joined to the mountain by the stream, Belaya. Behind the stream raised a hillock covered with the dense green of trees.A good beaten footpath was running down and we directed our goats thee. Here were more variegated herbs, water and the shadow from the sun and rain. The goats soon took their fill, laid comfortably down and started their chewing (rumination).
- “Let’s go to the river,” suggested Victor, “can you swim?”
- “Never tried.”
- “Try! The river here is not very deep.”
We took our clothes off. Victor was the first to go into the water and started to swim… I didn’t take the risk to follow him and stumbled close to the shore.
- “What kind of chap are you, if you can’t swim?” remarked Victor, “Well, I’ll teach you!”
We came out of the water and laid down on the sand.
- “Well, well, can you read and write?” asked Victor.
- “And what do you think, of course I can.”
- “Who taught you?”
- “My father!”
- “But… he’s not a teacher...”
- “So what? He taught me and that is that!”
We dressed ourselves and Victor started to make me familiar with the details of this unusual place. Between steep and overgrowth was a well beaten path. On the vertical wall of the steep now here, now there were seen round openings. Suddenly over our heads rapidly passed by, as it seemed to me, swallows and in seconds disappeared in these openings.
- “Swallows?” exclaimed I.
- “They call them here, bullfinches.”
We continued to walk along the footpath. Victor pointed with his finger a dark opening in the cliff.
- “A huge cave! They say it was dug out during the conquering of the Caucuses by the Russians. We can use it for out goats when it is raining… and here,” continued Victor, “is a swamp, always covered with cassocks. There live some carp, but to catch them is almost impossible. They have around so many different foods and attract them with something else is not easy.”
The day was declining and the goats didn’t show any sign to go home.
- “Let’s move!” said Victor.
We directed our steps to the goats.
“Ei! Have a look!”
Victor pointed to a bird’s nest under a bush, which was, it seemed to me, full of spotted little eggs. I bowed down and stretched my hand to get one of the eggs. Suddenly, the eggs gave a start and threw themselves towards my hand!?!
IN the twinkling of an eye I have drawn back my hand and saw a snake’s head with widely opened jaws and infuriously moving tongue. I jumped away in horror. Victor, who had a stick in his hand, rushed to the snake but it in a trice disappeared into the dense overgrowth of weeds…
- “Well! Where did that come from,” wondering I, “the nest is empty now!”
- “ Illusion and nothing else! The snake simply coiled itself up in an empty nest and fell asleep and you have disturbed its dream.” remarked Victor.
- “I see!”
We started to drive our goats home. At home mother was terrified when she heard about the incident with the snake.
- “ No more there!” shouted she, “no! no!”
My father tried to quiet her. “ We have to get more information about this spot. Victor told me that he drove his goats there before and nothing happened!”
- “It does not mean that there are no snakes there!”
- “So what!? One should be careful!”
Soon an old peasant started to take the goats for pasturing. He accepted ours too. My father put me on the study. Every day I spent six hours studying under his supervision, Russian Language and Literature, History, Zoology, Math, English and German. Sergej Petrovich, the teacher, who lived over the road helped us with text books and examined me from time to time.
Soon after my father called to me and said, “A new job for you, son!”
- “ What is it dad?”
- “ First listen to me attendfully,” he gave me a wink.
“Yesterday, “ started he, “ I sat on a bench in the park. An elderly chap sat down beside me. Then he picked up from the ground a couple of cigarette butts, pinched out the tobacco, and using a piece of newspaper, made a cigarette.
- “Have you got any matches?” he asked.
- “Yes sure.” I pulled from my pocket the box of matches and lit his cigarette.
- “That may be a way to get some cigarettes from now. “ remarked I.
- “ Don’t see any other way at the present time. “ he agreed.
He inhaled the smoke of his cigarette and looked at me.
- “ Last year my neighbour,” said he, “got 50 boxes of cigarette cases from the factory, which was closed. He put them in the shed aiming to use them. He tried to grow tobacco in his garden but could not get any seeds of good tobacco. Then he tried to use mahorka[1] to stuff the cigarette cases, but the paper of the cases was too thin for the mahorka which tore the paper casings to tatters every time he tried to stuff them.” The old man finished his cigarette and threw away the butt with a flick. “It is really hard to get new tobacco and no one is interested in the cases and they occupy the whole corner of his shed. He told me he was going to burn them.”
- “Bring me to him,” ask my father, “where does he live?”
- “Not far away from here. If you like, let’s go now.”
Soon we approached a small wooden house and knocked on the door. The door opened and we were met by a bearded, middle-aged man who seemed glad to meet us.
- I am interested in your cigarette cases and want to buy half of the,” said my father, “how much would you charge?”
- “ Not very much,” he cast a look at the father, “but, if you would take all of them, they’ll cost you nothing. I just want to get rid of them!”
Next day I made several trips to bring the boxes home. I started to hunt for cigarette butts all around the town. Only a few days were not very successful, especially when it was raining. Usually at the end of the week I had about 50-60 cigarettes which I packed in colour paper, the top of each pack was decorated with some attractive illustration and unusual name, and they were sold like hotcakes. It was a very good income to cover my educational expenses.
Maykop was still in the hands of the Whites though the front was moving irresistibly to the town and it happened…
It was declining towards evening. One heard the speedy stamp of horses. We hurried to the window and saw riders with unsheathed sabres, who in sweeping gallop hurried away.
It was Budjony’s cavalry[2]. The town without resistance came to the hands of the Reds. Soon after that the door to our house opened widely and on the threshold appeared tow of Budjony’s men.- “Come in.” invited them my mother.
One of them cast angry looks at my father, who was sitting at the table.- “You didn’t even move from your place to greet us!”
- “I am an invalid. I cannot walk.”
- “How did it happen?”
- “During the war. Germans crippled me.”
- “Sit down comrades!” invited them my mother, “I have got here a little bit of lard, bread, pickled tomatoes and cucumbers, and can make some fried eggs for you… that’s all I can offer you.” said my mother.
The lanky one smiled, “Don’t worry, we have got something too.” He pulled from his side bag a small bundle and unwrapped it. “Here are some slices of cooked pork and sausages and a bottle of moonshine.”
My mother put all these on a plate.
- “For us it will be quite enough to make a short snack,” said the lanky one, “don’t worry about the eggs!”
The second one, a long-necked with pocked-marked face, opened the bottle. My mother got from the cupboard two glasses.
- “And what about you?” he gazed t my parents.
- “We don’t drink,” said my mother, “we both have trouble with our liver.”
- “Why to draw attention to that?” The long-neck shook his head and filled the glasses. They started to drink and take the snack and recollecting some military episodes. Lanky’s gaze attracted a part of the floor close to the oven which was not completely dry.
- “And what from us have you hidden there?” asked Lanky.
- “Not from you,” replied my father, “you know yourself the front was moving up and down…”
- “Oh. Yes. Wis is there?”
- “A couple of golden things.”
Lanky approached the clay cover, unsheathed his sword and started with the tip of it to dig out the clay. Soon in his hands appeared a tin box. He opened it and poured out its contents on the table. Here were a golden watch with a chain, several brushes, rings and a dozen of silver spoons.
- “Well, well!” remarked Lanky, “we take with us the watch and two silver spoons, the rest is yours!”
My father just shrugged his shoulders.
- “Now, we go for a sleep,” said Lanky, “and early in the morning on the saddles again! Good night and all the best.”
They went out and directed their steps to the shed.
***
In my memory imposed the arrival of my father’s friend, Ivor and his wife Nura who were regularly terrorised by the Reds. They decided to live in Maykop and frequently visited us.
***
Once we heard a strange noise behind the windows. Looking through the windows we have seen an irritated crowd of people hurrying toward the rubbish dump.
- “What’s going on here?” I asked a chap.
- “Yesterday, in the night, they executed here a Kazak captain and a girl, “said the chap, “the relatives of the captain got the permission to dig him out and take his body away.”
- “And what about the girl?” I asked - They were in the same grave. He shrugged his shoulders.
Four men pulled out of the grave the weighty body of the captain. Two buckets of water appeared. The captain’s body was washed from the soil off and put on the droshky. A woman covered the body with a riding cloak.Tears were running over her cheeks.
- “My dear brother…” whispered she.
Two men started throwing earth into the grave, not drawing any attention to the girl’s body. The droshky moved toward the town under escort of the agitated mob.
- “And what for the girl was shot!?” revolted a stubby chap.
- “Maybe because she didn’t want to go to bed with the commissar,” tried to explain another one.
- “God rest her soul.” Remarked a woman.
-“It is beyond the human understanding,” raised against and elderly man,” to shoot the people in the rubbish dump.
- “Maybe our turn will come soon and they’ll put us here too!” remarked a man in a cappy and spat angrily aside.
- “They hang every morning in front of the government building a lit of people whom they executed in the night.” Said a young chap. “This morning there were eight people on the list. One of them was my schoolmate.”
In the town the people started to go their own way. Soon disappeared the droshky, too.
***
Once at the tea time, Ivor asked my father, “Why don’t you try to get a pension?”
- “I thought about that,” answered my father, “but they only give the pensions to those who used to work at least 25 years long on the service of the other people, but I have worked all my life only for myself.”
- “Why to worry about that?” remarked Ivor, “I and Nura could officially state that you worked. Who at the time would check? Almost all the documents disappeared in the revolution.”
- “Good idea!” exclaimed my mother.
The next day Ivor and Nura went to the solicitor and made statement that they knew my father more than 25 years working for other people. After the copy of the statement was received, father applied for the pension. He has given me the copy of the statement together with the petition and I directed myself to the department of security.
The official read several times the copy of the statement and the petition, and folded his lips. Actually for him it was something new. “Come back in two weeks!” told he cold. In a fortnight I have seen him once more. It was clear to us that without bribery we cannot go far away. Next day early in the morning my father handed me a solid envelope with the Official’s name on it. “Go son and hand this envelope to the official personally,” said my father.
In a half of hour I was already at the Official’s residence. He lived in a wooden house with a high basement and wooden staircase led to his door. I knocked. The door opened. The official with astonishment looked at me. “Very important letter for you!” he took the letter and hold his tongue.
I turned around and started to walk down the staircase. In several days I was again with him, for this time he met me very kind. “Everything is in order” pronounced he in a friendly voice, “your father’ll get pension from beginning of this month. Here are some instructions which can be useful for you.” He gave me a small booklet.
The pension was very small an live on it was impossible but, in the instructive booklet was pointed out that, instead of pension, the pensioner can get a free licence for a small business and father straight away on applied for it. Again I was at the Official’s office and after some short formalities the licence was in my hand.
All of us started to fit one of the rooms for the shop and stock it with goods. Soon the shelves in our magazine were full of different kinds of foods. It was not the problem as NEP[3] just started. My father and I would use “Kosja” and droshky to go to the centre of the town to get goods for our shop.
In the shop were working my parents and Lidia by turns, our shop, only one side facing the street with a gate and a wicket. Once at dawn Lidia waked all of us up; “Get up! Quickly!” shouted she in a worried voice: “they have robbed us! The wall is broken through!”
We jumped from our beds, threw on our shoulders anything which came to hand and rushed to the shop. On the floor of the magazine were scattered in all directions food. One of the barrels with pickled herring was laying on a side and several herring were on the floor. Not far from it some sausage was crushed under the feet.
In the yard was a big hole. We picked our way through and saw the gate opened which was swinging by the wind. “I told many times,” remarked my mother, “we have to get a dog…that would not have happened if we had!” Almost a third of our goods were taken or destroyed.
We had been working day and night to bring the shop in order and get for its shelves new goods. It was a blow for all of us! Little by little everything came to normal and even a black dog with white rhomb on its forehead appeared in the yard. He was still young but barked loud. My mother called him, “Diamond.”
***
Once in the afternoon approached a velocipedist.[4] On him was a blue shirt and scarlet sleeveless sports garment. He entered the shop and called himself the local propagandist, “Ignat Hinara”.- “How are you here?” asked he.
- “More or less… why?”
- “Nothing. Just seen your shop and seceded to come in and talk about international situation. Do you read newspapers?”
- “Sometimes…”
-“That’s good!”
A customer came in. “What can I do for you?” my father asked. “Some pork… How much for two dollars?” The customer paid for the pork and left the shop.
Ignat had taken a turn in the shop. His attention was drawn to the stand on which was some slice ham. He took a slice. In his hand appeared a bun. He gave a wink and his jaws started to move… He finished the ham and the bun and looked at my father.
- “…and now, I don’t mind some tea with sugar and lemon.”
- “I haven’t tea anymore.”
Ignat changed countenance, “Hmmm!” Without saying anything he left the shop. For several days he didn’t appear then unexpectedly was here again. My father covered with lids the ham and pork and put them away.
- “Well, all the tasty things are gone,” said Ignat displeasingly, “can you cut me a tasty slice?
- “For a dollar or two?” asked my father with irony.
- “on a fresh bun.” He gave my father a wink.
My father got out of temper: “Do you know chappie, here is not a Poor House! I am an invalid and have a family. The day in, the day out I am always here. And you! Healthy like a bull and don’t do anything. Shame on you!”
Ignat jumped up as if he was bitten by a snake. He face turned red. “You just wait! I’ll never forget this. I’ll show you who I am!” hissed he and slammed the door. After several days in the local newspaper appeared an article:
“Speculator is on the top of his activity!”
In his note, Ignat poured on the head of my father the whole slup-tub, representing him as a vampire who sucked out he blood from the working people. My father sent straight on the reputation to the paper stating the Ignat’s accusations are nothing else but insinuation and defamation.
Soon from the Department of Security appeared two officers for the investigation of Ignat’s accusations. My arents invited them to the dining room. On the table appeared a bottle of moonshine and tasty deserts. The security men did not find anything wrong in the activity of my father and left us with best wishes.
***
Two of my mates, John and Max told me that Ignat informed the security organs that Max’s father was dealing with golden and other precious objects on the black market and wrote about him in the newspaper. Max’s father was arrested.
- “We’re going to give him a rap on his snout!” said John. “Do you join us?”
I couldn’t refuse. We started to watch Ignat. He lived not far away from the centre in one of the side streets. There were neither shutter nor curtain on his street window and could clearly see the profile of his face when he under the light of a petrol lamp was sitting at the table.
- “I’m gonna give him a box in the ear with a rock.” Said Max
Next evening we went to Ignat’s lodging. It was light in his room, the window was open and he was sitting at the table and writing. Max took out of his bag a solid piece of rock and with all his strength has thrown it towards Ignat’s cheek. We quickly disappeared. Some time after I saw Ignat at the street, one of his cheeks was blue with noticeable traces of scratches.
- “You deserved that!” I thought.
***
The health of my mother started to worry us much. Emotional stress of the last years hurt seriously her. Unexpected epidemic of typhoid fever started to rage in the town and she became a victim of it. For all of us it was oppressing unforgettable nightmare…
We buried her at the local cemetery. In front of her tomb we planted her favourite tree – white acacia.
Horrible, ominous days were approaching. NEP irresistibly was running down. Shops in the town became empty. We were forced to close our shop too…
Once, walking around the suburbs of the town I have approached a small settlement. I was thirsty and entered a house, which was close to the road to ask for a glass of water and knocked on the door. Nobody answered. Not far away from the house, in the neglected yard I have seen a small spring running down the slope of the yard. Using my palms I slaked my thirst.
- “It seems,” thought I, “the house is empty. Nobody lives there.” On the road home I faced a man who returned from the town. We started to talk…
- “Anybody live there, in the house on the corner?” asked I.
- “Better not to ask,” he hopelessly swung his hands, “… before, a couple with three children used to live there but one night they disappeared, God only knows where!” he swang his hands again. “From thirty farmers in our settlement,” went he on, “live now here only twelve. The rest were sent to Siberia!”
We wished each other all the best and continued on our way. Next day my father and I were at the abandoned house. The house was not locked and we easily entered it. Everywhere was chaos and disorder… evidently after the arrest of the inhabitants the house was plundered.
- “It is an excellent place for a poultry farm,” remarked my father, “but before start anything we have to consult with local authorities.”
The local bailiff used to work in the town and was here only during off days. “Why do you worry about,” remarked his wife, “no one devil cares about that. Occupy the house and that’s all!”
We started to examine the farm. “Event the shed here is good for poultry,” remarked my father, “but it needs repair.”
- “Its no problem, I can repair it!” said I.
Next day we saw the local bailiff.
- ´Come in and do anything you like there, providing your origin is proletariat,” he told, “nobody will be in your way.”
Next day I started to repair the shed making it adaptable to the poultry farm. Soon one could see in the yard hens and chickens. There were altogether sixty. My father bought ten bags of old wheat to feed the chickens and as reserve for the future.
I had in my disposal two goats and a dog, “Koshtanka.” Every day thirty eggs were collected and once a week fifteen dozens of them were sold to the town restaurant and hospital.
Once, late at night I have heard a strange noise at the shed. I rushed there. The moon was shining brightly…I have seen Koshtanka and a fox which were fighting. Soon the fox fell down on the back and Koshtanka made the end to it… grew in two fox’s throat.
Soon the order of the provincial government was issued about delivery to the state stores all surpluses of grain in private possession – voluntarily, otherwise will be confiscated. Soon the commission of five men appeared at my far. They discovered my reserves of wheat and ordered to deliver it immediately to the State fund.
I revolted…
- “…and what will I give my chooks?! I have to feed them before they lay eggs!”
- “Go to hell with your chooks!” hissed the Soviet Official, “you must be in a collective farm and not put sticks in our wheels!”
My wheat was confiscated without compensation, and my father decided to finish with the farm. He sold all the stock to the restaurant. In the evening appeared a man who started slaughtering the fowl once it went to roost.
Next morning around the chopping block was spread the congealed pool of blood and scattered feathers… that all what was left of my poultry farm… and the door for private initiative was closed[5]. My father sent a boy with droshky. We loaded on all my belongings and off he went to the town and I, Koshtanka and two goats followed him.
***
Once at the tea time my father told, “We have to go away from here.”
- “Where?” asked Lidia.
- “Anywhere. At least where the climate is mild and there is a chance to catch fish.”
- “Where is such a paradise?” wondered Lidia.
- “Black Sea… Anapa, for instance.”
- “Well, we have to sell first our house, and it is very bad time for that.”
- “Never mind. Let’s try!”
We made advertisement in the newspaper and on a plate that was nailed to the house. One month passed by – nobody inquired.
Lidia was in desperation, “We’ll never sell it!”
- “We still have some money,” appeased her my father.
We stared to prepare ourselves for moving. Our neighbour, the teacher, promised to inform us if any buyer appears. Soon we left for Anapa.
__________
[1] A kind of tobacco of inferior quality.
[2] C.M. (Semen) Budyonny: “Civil war broke out in 1918, and Budyonny organized the Red Cavalry force in the Don region, which eventually became the 1st Cavalry Army. This army played an important role in winning the civil war for the Bolsheviks, driving the White General Anton Deniken back from Moscow.” Source: http://www.blinkbits.com/en_wikifeeds/Semen_Budyonny
[3] NEP: New Economic Policy
[4] Cyclist. Velocipede was an early term for bicycle.
[5] This was the first time my grandfather lived on his own and ran his own operation. [Ed.]
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