Read Online Wave of Terror by Theodore Odrach - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Theodore Odrach
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Grandfather Cemen settled in one of the leather armchairs. Resting his head against the back, he closed his eyes and almost at once drifted off. The chair was so very soft and comfortable, unlike any he had ever sat in, and he thought how having such a chair would help ease his arthritis. If only he could take it back to his shack and set it before the tile stove, he would feel better in no time. Falling into a deeper slumber, he didn’t notice that a tray of food had been set on a small table before him.
“Wake up, Grandfather.” Kulik nudged him lightly on the arm. “Paraska made us a bite to eat. Help yourself. I know it’s hard to eat without teeth, but if you soak the rolls in your tea, it’ll be easier to swallow. Here’s a spoon and some milk.” Then turning toward the door leading into the kitchen, he called, “Paraska, could you please bring us a few lumps of sugar?”
Barely a minute later Paraska appeared in the doorway. When she saw the old man, her pale cheeks flushed and she looked distressed. Quietly, like a cat, she slipped behind Kulik and complained in his ear.
“How did
he
get in here? I can’t seem to get away from him. I’ve had more of him than I can take. He’s tearing me apart with his constant grumbling. Every day he finds something new to say about me: I’m a sinner, I’m lazy, I don’t care for Philip properly, I’m no good. Everything I do is wrong. There’s no end to it. He’s sucking the blood out of me. And now to make matters worse, he’s senile!”
Seeing Paraska whispering to Kulik, Grandfather Cemen, now wide awake, shifted to the edge of his seat and strained to hear what she was saying. Not being able to make out a word, he spoke haughtily and contemptuously, as if Paraska were not in the room.
“You must keep that girl on a short rope, Director. Teach her some discipline. My Philip spoiled her rotten and now she bringshim no profit. And she’s an unfit mother; her children are like wild animals, dirty and ragged. I said to my son, ‘Philip, why didn’t you take Anna Novak for your wife, she would have made a very good housekeeper and mother to your children. She’s well-organized and hard-working and has respect for the elderly.’ But my son didn’t listen. He said his heart was with Paraska.”
Pausing to take some tea, after a moment he started up again. “Oh, the heart of a young man, it’s like the spring rain, it will pour for about a month, then by summer everything will dry up. And so it goes. Their household has fallen apart completely and now poverty has consumed them like fleas on a dog. Everything Paraska touches turns to smoke and dust. That’s the kind of daughter-in-law I have, as useless as an old shoe.”
Paraska burst into tears, and fled the room, banging the door behind her. She could be heard sobbing in the hallway.
Kulik responded to this little domestic scene with amazement and sorrow. Finding himself confronted with the complexities of other people’s lives always caused him to feel awkward and embarrassed. But his heart went out to Paraska. Her life was hard enough without the old man breathing down her neck at every turn. Kulik felt she did a more than adequate job tidying the classrooms and preparing his meals. She was always punctual and efficient and never left until her work was finished. Not knowing what to do, Kulik said nothing, hoping that the old man would stop his bitter harangue and go home. But he went on for another hour, describing each private interlude in detail and coming to lengthy, tiresome conclusions. Kulik only half listened, trying without success to think of ways to change the subject.
As the clock struck three, the old man finally prepared to take his leave. Kulik helped him out of the chair, and taking him by the arm, accompanied him to the door. The old man stopped to look Kulik in the face.
“I can tell by your eyes you’ve had a good upbringing and you’re a decent man. But I can also
Grandfather Cemen settled in one of the leather armchairs. Resting his head against the back, he closed his eyes and almost at once drifted off. The chair was so very soft and comfortable, unlike any he had ever sat in, and he thought how having such a chair would help ease his arthritis. If only he could take it back to his shack and set it before the tile stove, he would feel better in no time. Falling into a deeper slumber, he didn’t notice that a tray of food had been set on a small table before him.
“Wake up, Grandfather.” Kulik nudged him lightly on the arm. “Paraska made us a bite to eat. Help yourself. I know it’s hard to eat without teeth, but if you soak the rolls in your tea, it’ll be easier to swallow. Here’s a spoon and some milk.” Then turning toward the door leading into the kitchen, he called, “Paraska, could you please bring us a few lumps of sugar?”
Barely a minute later Paraska appeared in the doorway. When she saw the old man, her pale cheeks flushed and she looked distressed. Quietly, like a cat, she slipped behind Kulik and complained in his ear.
“How did
he
get in here? I can’t seem to get away from him. I’ve had more of him than I can take. He’s tearing me apart with his constant grumbling. Every day he finds something new to say about me: I’m a sinner, I’m lazy, I don’t care for Philip properly, I’m no good. Everything I do is wrong. There’s no end to it. He’s sucking the blood out of me. And now to make matters worse, he’s senile!”
Seeing Paraska whispering to Kulik, Grandfather Cemen, now wide awake, shifted to the edge of his seat and strained to hear what she was saying. Not being able to make out a word, he spoke haughtily and contemptuously, as if Paraska were not in the room.
“You must keep that girl on a short rope, Director. Teach her some discipline. My Philip spoiled her rotten and now she bringshim no profit. And she’s an unfit mother; her children are like wild animals, dirty and ragged. I said to my son, ‘Philip, why didn’t you take Anna Novak for your wife, she would have made a very good housekeeper and mother to your children. She’s well-organized and hard-working and has respect for the elderly.’ But my son didn’t listen. He said his heart was with Paraska.”
Pausing to take some tea, after a moment he started up again. “Oh, the heart of a young man, it’s like the spring rain, it will pour for about a month, then by summer everything will dry up. And so it goes. Their household has fallen apart completely and now poverty has consumed them like fleas on a dog. Everything Paraska touches turns to smoke and dust. That’s the kind of daughter-in-law I have, as useless as an old shoe.”
Paraska burst into tears, and fled the room, banging the door behind her. She could be heard sobbing in the hallway.
Kulik responded to this little domestic scene with amazement and sorrow. Finding himself confronted with the complexities of other people’s lives always caused him to feel awkward and embarrassed. But his heart went out to Paraska. Her life was hard enough without the old man breathing down her neck at every turn. Kulik felt she did a more than adequate job tidying the classrooms and preparing his meals. She was always punctual and efficient and never left until her work was finished. Not knowing what to do, Kulik said nothing, hoping that the old man would stop his bitter harangue and go home. But he went on for another hour, describing each private interlude in detail and coming to lengthy, tiresome conclusions. Kulik only half listened, trying without success to think of ways to change the subject.
As the clock struck three, the old man finally prepared to take his leave. Kulik helped him out of the chair, and taking him by the arm, accompanied him to the door. The old man stopped to look Kulik in the face.
“I can tell by your eyes you’ve had a good upbringing and you’re a decent man. But I can also
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