Constant Nobody by Michelle Butler Hallett

Author:Michelle Butler Hallett [Hallett, Michelle Butler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781773101583
Publisher: Goose Lane Editions
Published: 2021-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

— So he wants us to pose for a portrait.

Voice blending into the general racket of the cafeteria, Kostya shook pepper into his bowl of shchi. Nothing fell.

Arkady took the pepper shaker from Kostya, gave it a hard rap on the table, and turned it upside down again. Still, no pepper fell. Snorting, Arkady knocked the pepper shaker on its side.

Vadym dipped bread into his shchi. —Balakirev, you photogenic old goat. Glory at last.

Arkady mumbled his answer around a piece of bread. —Kuznets just wants to blind me with the flash.

— If he did, the bloat in your face might go down. How long have you squinted like that?

Arkady looked to Kostya, pleading for intervention.

Kostya sat back in his chair and tilted his head to one side. —What-ever do you mean, Dima? Surely not that Arkady Dmitrievich looks unwell?

Now Arkady glared at him.

Vadym prattled on. —Arkasha, really, your eyelids should not be so puffy, nor your cheeks. Look, your hands are swollen. What about your legs?

— I could tap them like trees and drain off sap. What of it?

Kostya slurped soup and hoped that hid his alarm.

Vadym scowled. —Have you consulted with a doctor any time since, oh, I don’t know, the Revolution?

Grunting, Arkady stood up. —I need to take a leak.

Vadym forced a chuckle as Arkady left the table. —I believe I’ve hit a nerve.

— You’re right, Dima. He’s not well.

— No, he can’t be, not the way he looks and behaves. Kostya, he listens to you.

— Like hell he does.

— Can you convince him to see a doctor?

Not wanting to get nudged and brushed, Kostya leaned away from the men passing the table. Even here, in the cafeteria, where one might expect the noise to allow a more intimate conversation, one must acknowledge the press of other people, so many other people. —Maybe.

— I have to ask you something else.

Kostya waited. Guessed.

The words fell out of Vadym’s mouth, a speedy confession. —I’m worried sick about Misha. I know he’s missing.

Kostya knocked his glass of water against the side of his bowl. Hard.

Vadym took the hint and lowered his voice. —Did you—

Craning his neck, Kostya spotted Yury and Boris approaching the table. He tapped his glass against the bowl a second time.

Vadym turned to greet them. —Hello, hello, come sit down.

Kostya nodded and gestured to empty chairs at the neighbouring table. Oh, the old man will love this.

Yury and Boris approached their table, Yury bearing two full trays of bread and shchi. The soup slopped over the bowls. As Yury struggled to place the trays on the neighbouring table without further spill, Boris pulled a chair over to Kostya and Vadym’s table. —Vadym Pavlovich, I owe you an apology. I missed choir practice this morning. Trouble in the cells.

— I guessed you were busy.

— Yes, teaching scales to a young woman. Not yet seventeen and stubborn as a woman of fifty.

As Vadym shut his eyes and sighed, Kostya noticed Arkady striding across the cafeteria, returning to the table.

So did Boris.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.