Read Online There Once Lived a Mother Who Loved Her Children, Until They Moved Back In by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya - Free Book Online Page A

(The chair squeaks—she sits down to finish her tea.) That was me, I admit it, but it can be glued! I saved the spout.
Mama: What? What teapot?
Granny: The blue one. We’ll glue it on. . . .
Mama: What? The blue teapot? The best teapot in the house? How can we ever use it again?
Granny: You broke my cup, I broke your teapot.
Mama: Alena! Come here.
Me: Mom, I’m studying for the exam. . . .
    To confuse Alena further I brought up the subject of pimples. “You see, if you don’t wash yourself there and under your armpits, you are bound to get pimples. At the very least you could wash your own underwear. I do the wash after both of you, but Granny has lost her marbles!”
    “And I’ve lost mine,” said this pale, slightly pimply young heroine. Everyone is expected to kneel at her feet. But for that she must at least bathe regularly.
    “At the very least, you should shower and wash your hair. And use contraception! Use contraception, since you are sleeping with them.”
    Ah, the power of insults. She was crying now, but for herself, not her crazy grandmother.
    That was seven years ago, a lifetime.
    •   •   •
    The time is night. Today there was a knock on the door. Who is it? Personal business. Great. What business?
    Then: “Does such and such live here?” Naming my dear son. Southern accent.
    “No, no, and no.”
    “Where is he?”
    “He is renting.”
    “Give us the address.”
    Right.
    “Then open the door.”
    “I don’t have to open my door without a warrant.”
    Pause.
    “You tell your son, woman, to be very careful.”
    “Why? Are you a criminal?”
    “He’s the criminal. We’ll find him.” Then they kicked the door a few times and scurried away. I counted at least six feet.
    I didn’t leave the house that day and called Andrey, who was out of sorts and spoke to me in monosyllables.
    “Morning!”
    “. . .”
    “How’s your heel?”
    “Mm.”
    “Are you looking for work?”
    “Mm.”
    “Why not?”
    “. . .”
    “Come on, stop it. Smile, will you? Why so down? What happened?”
    “Mm.”
    “You absolutely must get a job.”
    “. . .”
    “By the way, someone’s looking for you. Again.”
    “Who? My friends?”
    “That’s right. Your friends. Said they’d find you sooner or later.”
    “Who did?”
    “Your so-called friends. I told them to go away, that they were criminals.”
    “And?”
    “They answered that it’s unclear which of you is a criminal. Andrey! What have you done this time?”
    “Me? You nuts? Why me?”
    Something had clearly happened.
    “Well. They are looking for you. There were six feet in all. Approximately.”
    “You mean there were three of them?”
    “They could be amputees. In any case, you mustn’t come around.”
    “I was about to come for my money.”
    “Money—from me?”
    “Mom, you’ve made this all up, right?”
    “You’re funny,” and I hung up.
    The monthly tribute, which he imagines I owe him, has been paid twice. Now I’m a pauper! The first time he stole my precious childhood book Little Lord Fauntleroy . I was saving it for Tima, for when he’ll be able to accept the heartbreaking news that the little lord will get nothing. Just once I was able to read to him up to that point, just once. Then the book disappeared. Tima and I waited outside the hospital for Nina to come out after her shift. When she did, she was grumpy. She complained about Andrey, said she couldn’t put up with him any longer, that he had to go. It turned out they hadn’t paid their utilities for six months. Nina managed to keep the phone working, but their electricity had been shut off. In despair, Andrey came to rob me. Nina agreed to exchange the book for forty rubles. Forty rubles! I always suspected that Nina was one of those two sluts in sunglasses.
    That was the last time Andrey visited our nest in my absence. With the last of my money I installed a new lock, which involved chasing down our district plumber, who finally came