День, когда рухнул мир - [10]

Grandmother was quiet. Grandfather fell silent. He stared somewhere into the distance, his eyes not seeing anything.

He told us this story with reservation and calm, a story which sounded even more terrible in the surrounding stillness.

«So my father had an older brother and I would have had an uncle,» I thought. A picture rose before my eyes; I saw myself crawling across the steppe followed by the howls of jackals and cries of vultures and stumbling upon corpses of the people who had died of hunger. Strange as it may seem, this vision frightened me more than either the test bomb or the ghost of the snow leopard. Perhaps only the death of Kenje seemed as frightening… I was seven years old.

It was then that for the first time I began to think about the number of deaths, pain, suffering, humiliation and insult which had befallen the people of Genghiztau.

A truck came down from the hills and the dzhigits who spilled out of it came-towards us. As it turned out these people were from our village and it was precisely they who had been caught «unawares» by the explosion. They gravely greeted the old men and when they found out about the death of Kenje, they sat by her fresh grave in silence, for a long time. The doctors wore them out with their treatment. Till late in the evening they examined them several times with special instruments, instructing them to relax, close their eyes; in short, – in the opinion on the dzhigits, they were being treated like children.

«That’s enough, how long can one wait?» protested the accountant Talgat. «We are hungry, since morning neither food nor drink has passed our lips.»

«Be patient. If necessary, we’ll take you to Moscow for observation,» Zhavoronkov, who had no sense of humour, gloomily announced.

«To Moscow then! That’s a good idea. I’ve long dreamt of staying in the capital for a while. You can send me there as soon as you like,» said Talgat, boastfully, wishing to anger the doctor.

The old men and women – spread out a large table-cloth for the funeral feast for Kenje. The Russians also joined us.

«She-was beautiful, wasn’t she, Rollan?» Galya asked me.

I nodded in reply, «Yes, she was the most beautiful of all.»

«Anti you loved her of course?» Galya said shrewdly.

For «the first time, the adults talked to-me „as an equal“ and I thought, „Perhaps, I’m already an adult too, since they treat me like one. Yes, an adult…“

„Yes, I loved her and I’ll never love anyone else…“

„All your life?“ said Galya in surprise.

„All my life!“ I said confidently.

„What, you won’t get married, then?“

„No, I won’t,“ I assured her angrily, cutting her short.

Galya was amazed and when she hugged me she whispered, „If only my young man loved me like that. I hope that all troubles will pass you by. Grow up quickly and be happy.“

The sky was full of stars, but the moon was hidden and the mountains were dark and gloomy. In the light from the camp-fires, people silently ate oatmeal porridge. Once again I remembered Kenje and again tears appeared in my eyes. It was only yesterday that we had talked and dreamed. The dreams were childish, unpretentious and fantastic. Kenje, the little Kenje, for her six years of age, expressed herself in mysterious riddles and what was amazing, her fantasies were always in bright colours. „It will be fine, the steppe will be fragrant,“ she would say. „Those crimson flowers always smell so sweet and the blue-blue sky will softly look down on us and the golden sun will shine brightly and you will be able to gaze at that golden mirror for as long as you like. My one-and-only golden, wonderful sun!“

She loved everything and everyone but I was the only one who had loved her.

„In a few days we’ll be leaving,“ I thought, „but you’ll remain here amongst the hills forever. In the winter it’s cold, windy and stormy, but the summers are cool and calm. You’ll be lonely here, Kenje, but I will be thinking of you and each year I will come here on the anniversary of your, death. Cross my heart“ – I gave my solemn oath in our childish way. „But the problem is I’m still little and my grandfather won’t bring me so far – do you know how far we are from our village?“

„No.“ As if in a day-dream I heard Kenje’s little voice.

„The solders told us it’s about a hundred kilometers.“

„That’s very far, you won’t be able to come and see me,“ said Kenje sadly.

„When I grow up I will be my own master and then I’ll come on your birthday and on the anniversary of your death.“

„Twice a year, you are so kind-hearted.“

„Don’t cry,“ I said.

„I’m not crying. I don’t cry any more…“

„The dead don’t cry.“

„They would, but their tears have already dried up.“

„And why are you so morose?“ Talgat’s voice disrupted my day-dream.

„I was thinking about Kenje,“ I answered.

„Yes, it’s a terrible shame. Her heart could not stand such a shock,“ concluded Talgat, but was interrupted by the old lady Bibi.

„She was mad. She went mad,“ she said loudly, and seeing that no one agreed with her she repeated, „Went mad!“

„Why are you harping on one and the same thing – went mad, went mad? It’s you who’ve gone mad in your old age. Would an intelligent woman say such a thing about someone who has just died? Have you become stupid?“ Arkham snapped at her and Bibi fell silent, guiltily looking around her.