A School for Fools by Sasha Sokolov

Author:Sasha Sokolov
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2015-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

4. “SCREAK”

NOW LET me clear my throat, look straight into your eyes, and clarify a certain detail from your cover letter. The letter says Akatov himself made positive comments about our collection, but I don’t recall us discussing this subject with him; we didn’t meet him even once, we only saw him from a distance, usually through the crack in the fence, but how we dreamed about walking at least once down the path of Akatov’s orchard, knocking on the door of the house, and—when the old man opens it—saying hello and introducing ourselves: A student of your daughter so-and-so, a beginner entomologist; it would be great to discuss with you certain problems and so forth. But we didn’t have the courage to knock on the door of his house even once because—or maybe for some other reason?—a large dog lived in the orchard. Listen, I don’t like when you call my collection—our collection; nobody gave you the right; I gathered my collection alone and if we ever merged in a common act, that act would have no relation whatsoever to butterflies; well, fine, now about the conversation with Akatov: It’s true, I didn’t lie to the academy, I really talked to him. Once in summer, at the dacha, on Sunday, when from the early morning Father made us sit down and copy lead articles from newspapers to improve our understanding of the problems of foreign and domestic follytics, I decided you’d manage wonderfully without me. I chose the appropriate moment: While you were putting the pen down, turning towards the window, and starting to investigate the construction of the lilac flower, I got up silently from behind the table, put on Father’s hat that hung on a nail in the hall, and took a cane—it was the cane of one of our relatives, forgotten by him some five years earlier. On the station platform five years earlier, in the evening. Our mother said to the relative: I hope you rested well at our dacha, don’t squash the wild strawberries, wash them before eating, give my love to Elena Mikhailovna and Vitiusha, next time come with them, don’t pay attention to my husband, it’s just nerves, he works a lot, has many things to do, he gets tired, but you know that in general he’s good, yes, his heart is soft and kind, it’s just that sometimes he can explode, so come again, come again, only don’t argue with him, wait a minute, where’s your cane? I thought you had a cane, you left your cane, ah, how awful, what shall we do? Distracted. Let’s go back, there’s one more electric train. The relative: Goodness gracious, stop, it’s not worth it, don’t worry, if it were an umbrella, it would be different, it’s about to start raining right now, thanks for the berries, I appreciate it, we’ll come again for the cane, what’s a cane, just a trifle, as the saying goes, a cane won’t bring you happiness, so long, the train’s coming.

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