Read Online Who Is Martha? by Marjana Gaponenko - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marjana Gaponenko
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to mind apart from the fact that the Caucasian goldcrest was to be found there 6,500 feet above sea level, and that it was said to be lighter than the Central European goldcrest. An elegant bird with orange colored head feathers it would impressively raise when rankled.
“Sisisisisisi …,” Levadski sang gently, as if to entice the bird from the scent of the onion tart.
“Sisisi-sia!” his mother chimed in. “Everything will turn out fine,” she said, placing her hand on Levadski’s shoulder.
Everything would be fine, is what Levadski wanted to say and burst into tears. But he didn’t move. He felt like a pillar in the ruins of a palace, a pillar on which a goldcrest sits, striking up a song.
“The Caucasian goldcrest is all you can think of? God in Heaven, what have you been doing at university in Lemberg?” Levadski’s mother got up from the chair. From below, she looked like she had silently and secretly died during Levadski’s absence. Levadski also rose and went to the window. His mother turned towards him. What a relief! From this angle she looked like an old woman, a faded beauty, blossoming decay, a firm figure of resolution.
“The rednecked goose, my son. Branta ruficollis. The favorite dish of the Caucasus. Did you not come across it in your studies?”
“We mainly explored the birds of Europe.”
“Dear child. Don’t you have any world maps, eyes in your head? Chechnya is in the North Caucasus and therefore in Europe. Wake up!”
“Who says so?” Levadski laughed.
“I do, and so does science.”
“What science?” Levadski shook with laughter. Tears rolled down his face. Or were they beads of sweat?
“Don’t cry,” said Levadski’s mother. Levadski made a dismissive gesture and howled. “Cartography, geography and human intelligence tell us so, my son,” she went on. “The Caucasus lies on the edge of Europe, and with that, Elbrus is our highest mountain.”
The northern red-necked goose, the most colorful and beautiful of all the sea geese, really had flown past Levadski the student without making a noise. How could he live, learn, drink honey vodka, without knowing that the red-neck goose existed, that it bred in the tundra of West Siberia and wintered on the southwest coast of the Caspian Sea? It was a mystery to him.
“Is it really such a magnificent bird, the northern rednecked goose?” Levadski asked with a tear-stained face.
“Yes,” said his mother and handed him her handkerchief embroidered with calyces set in squares.
“If they arrive in great droves at the Caspian Sea, you can definitely conclude there is a bitterly cold winter further in the north. The geese live according to a strict daily routine in their winter habitat: before sunrise they take off for the grazing land. The main swarm with thousands of birds sets out last. When the sun goes down, the return flight to their overnight stay begins.” Levadski let the tears flow. “You must follow me,” Levadski’s mother said and shrugged her shoulders. “I am going!” she said a little louder and raised her eyebrows, throwing her forehead into a myriad of unflattering lines.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it must be so.”
“What must be so? You must manipulate me, exploit my love for you and throw my studies to the wind? After all, you paid for them, mother!”
“That’s beside the point. When my child’s life is at stake, I am unwavering. You are coming with me, and if you are not, then I will go and die far away from you in an ignominious manner. And nobody will commit my body to the earth.”
“This is blackmail, madness!” said Levadski stamping his foot.
“So it is,” Levadski’s mother said, “I am going now.”
VI
L EVADSKI WENT WITH HIS MOTHER. F ROM A FLY-INFESTED train station in southern Russia, he wired his institute in Lemberg. DETAINED STOP MOTHER ILL STOP PERMISSION FOR TIME OFF STOP
From time to time he felt a faint glimmer of hope that his mother would
“Sisisisisisi …,” Levadski sang gently, as if to entice the bird from the scent of the onion tart.
“Sisisi-sia!” his mother chimed in. “Everything will turn out fine,” she said, placing her hand on Levadski’s shoulder.
Everything would be fine, is what Levadski wanted to say and burst into tears. But he didn’t move. He felt like a pillar in the ruins of a palace, a pillar on which a goldcrest sits, striking up a song.
“The Caucasian goldcrest is all you can think of? God in Heaven, what have you been doing at university in Lemberg?” Levadski’s mother got up from the chair. From below, she looked like she had silently and secretly died during Levadski’s absence. Levadski also rose and went to the window. His mother turned towards him. What a relief! From this angle she looked like an old woman, a faded beauty, blossoming decay, a firm figure of resolution.
“The rednecked goose, my son. Branta ruficollis. The favorite dish of the Caucasus. Did you not come across it in your studies?”
“We mainly explored the birds of Europe.”
“Dear child. Don’t you have any world maps, eyes in your head? Chechnya is in the North Caucasus and therefore in Europe. Wake up!”
“Who says so?” Levadski laughed.
“I do, and so does science.”
“What science?” Levadski shook with laughter. Tears rolled down his face. Or were they beads of sweat?
“Don’t cry,” said Levadski’s mother. Levadski made a dismissive gesture and howled. “Cartography, geography and human intelligence tell us so, my son,” she went on. “The Caucasus lies on the edge of Europe, and with that, Elbrus is our highest mountain.”
The northern red-necked goose, the most colorful and beautiful of all the sea geese, really had flown past Levadski the student without making a noise. How could he live, learn, drink honey vodka, without knowing that the red-neck goose existed, that it bred in the tundra of West Siberia and wintered on the southwest coast of the Caspian Sea? It was a mystery to him.
“Is it really such a magnificent bird, the northern rednecked goose?” Levadski asked with a tear-stained face.
“Yes,” said his mother and handed him her handkerchief embroidered with calyces set in squares.
“If they arrive in great droves at the Caspian Sea, you can definitely conclude there is a bitterly cold winter further in the north. The geese live according to a strict daily routine in their winter habitat: before sunrise they take off for the grazing land. The main swarm with thousands of birds sets out last. When the sun goes down, the return flight to their overnight stay begins.” Levadski let the tears flow. “You must follow me,” Levadski’s mother said and shrugged her shoulders. “I am going!” she said a little louder and raised her eyebrows, throwing her forehead into a myriad of unflattering lines.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it must be so.”
“What must be so? You must manipulate me, exploit my love for you and throw my studies to the wind? After all, you paid for them, mother!”
“That’s beside the point. When my child’s life is at stake, I am unwavering. You are coming with me, and if you are not, then I will go and die far away from you in an ignominious manner. And nobody will commit my body to the earth.”
“This is blackmail, madness!” said Levadski stamping his foot.
“So it is,” Levadski’s mother said, “I am going now.”
VI
L EVADSKI WENT WITH HIS MOTHER. F ROM A FLY-INFESTED train station in southern Russia, he wired his institute in Lemberg. DETAINED STOP MOTHER ILL STOP PERMISSION FOR TIME OFF STOP
From time to time he felt a faint glimmer of hope that his mother would
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