Fish- a History of One Migration by Peter Aleshkovsky

Author:Peter Aleshkovsky
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: fiction
ISBN: 9781880100622
Publisher: Russian Information Services
Published: 2010-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

. 3 .

Mark Grigoriyevich left yesterday. He makes sure to come to Moscow several times a year: he plays concerts at the Conservatory, teaches master classes, and mentors young musicians. Every minute of his two weeks in Moscow is scheduled, but he finds time every day to pop into his mother’s room, and talk to her about something or other. Grandma lies very calmly and often falls asleep, happy and peaceful. Their conversations are one-sided, but every time he feels that his mother, finally, heard and understood him. It must be easier for him that way. He leaves the room (I am never there when they “talk”) and smiles at me, “Vera, today, Mom and I reminisced about my childhood. I could see she enjoyed it, she was smiling until she got tired and fell asleep.”

“Yes, Mark Grigoriyevich, she often falls asleep with me, too, when I read to her. It’s a good sign: it means that nothing is bothering her.”

We are playing a game that is not entirely a game, when you think about it.

He does not waste time on ceremonies with me, glances at his watch, throws up his hands and runs out: he is always very busy in Moscow.

Grandma has two nieces, old pensioners themselves. They are entitled to part of the apartment in the will; Grandma Lisichanskaya never made a secret of it. At first, when she became ill, they visited, fussed over her, sighed ruefully, and stroked her head, but clumsily and with evident fear. Grandma reacted badly to their visits; at their touch she seemed to congeal, to become as wooden and unyielding as a post. When they really annoyed her, she would pretend she were dying: her blood pressure would fall, she would breathe heavily, or would suddenly clutch my hand in a death grip and not let go until the door closed behind the visitors. Once I overheard their lamentations, “What is the point of this all? Sofia was such a strong-willed person; it is terrible to see her lose her mind. It would be better if this did not last long.”

Grandma was lying right there. They treated her as if she was ignorant, deaf, lost to the world, and were not shy when expressing their feelings. I complained to Mark Grigoriyevich, and the nieces’ visits stopped.

During this visit, they broke his ban, showed up and tormented him behind closed doors for a good hour. I only heard it when he shouted loudly, “Don’t even hope for it, she will not go to a hospice, you will not change my mind!”

They left soon after that, red and steaming.

I was sitting up with Grandma. She was very worried, clasped my hand in her avian paw and would not let go. I stroked her hair for a long time, but she could not fall asleep. No, I would never call my Grandma senseless; I spent half of the night telling her about my life in Kharabali and I think it helped take her mind off things.

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