День, когда рухнул мир - [12]

„Everything’s fine,“ my father answered. „How was your journey? Did everything go well?“

I understood that he was asking out of custom, for he himself knew as well as everyone else what was taking place all around.

„The old man is making a fuss again,“ some corporal complained to the lieutenant-colonel. „It was he who stopped us from working.“

„In that case, pass on this order to everyone: the wells are to be left as they are, since we didn’t manage to complete the job in time. Well, as the saying goes, it’s not fate, it’s not God’s will,“ said the lieutenant-colonel thoughtfully.

My father came up to me and drew me towards him and asked me gently: „Well, how did you get on up there, did you help the old folk?“

I embraced him. He smelled of smoke, sun and gunpowder, all the smells that had dominated the steppe over the last few days.

„Ask grandfather…“ I answered.

„That means you did help them! Good lad!“ Father patted – me on the shoulder. „Come on then, let’s carry the things inside.“

Grandmother lit a fire in the summer oven which stood in the yard and began to bake taba-nan – bread. Grandfather climbed up onto the roof and brought down a ladder, then he took a small shovel and disappeared down the well.

Grandmother and I helped him carry the buckets which he handed to us. Only nearer lunch time, did grandfather, tired and haggard, climb out of the well.

We sat down to rest in the shade.

„Ata,“ said my father guiltily, „forgive us, but we ate all your hens. There was no choice.“

„Oh, that’s alright. It doesn’t matter,“ answered grandfather briefly. „It’s more important that the earth and the people that inhabit it survive…“

„I’ll go into town soon and buy you some more chickens,“ father promised. „Good.“

I became bored with this domestic talk and suddenly felt depressed and alone in the deserted village.

The adults began to talk about their future, about deprivation, of their fear in the face of the atomic bomb, of the American threat. Father was trying to convince the old folk that there was a threat from America. He became excited and waved his arms about and I suspected that he was repeating what he had been told by the soldiers. And once again I remembered the hills. I remembered that terrifying explosion when it seemed that at any moment the umbilical cord which linked the sun and the earth would snap and the earth would be hurled into the depths of an unknown universe just as the thundering boulders had crashed down the mountain, frightening people and animals. I remembered how the horses ran in all directions from fright and the old men were only able to find them on the next day. I remembered, too, how the earth sank away under one’s feet and how I hugged the cold, damp earth and how little Kenje, having lost her mind, ran through a hail of falling stones.

Suddenly, I gave a start. Near me, something white appeared for a moment and into my lap, miaowing complainingly, plopped a filthy, bedraggled cat. 1 shook her off in disgust, but not taking the slightest notice of me, she went up to my grandmother and’ began to rub herself against her leg.

„It’s our Ginger!“ it suddenly dawned on grandmother. It was true. We all instantly recognized our cat. Grandmother sat on a bench and Ginger made herself comfortable on her wide skirt. Out of its half-closed eyes, tears fell.

„She used to be ginger and now she’s white,“ I said in wonder.

„Can’t you see that she’s gone grey?“ said grandfather angrily.

„Oh, bow tough you are, man! You don’t have nerves, you’ve got steel in your veins! And what do you think you are doing? You’re destroying yourself, you’re sowing death… You have poison and not seeds in your hand. Even the animal has gone grey – it couldn’t take whatever it is you’re up to… What will we leave our children and grandchildren?“ Grandfather stroked my head and said, „Don’t forget my words! If things continue as they are, people will quietly, imperceptibly go insane. And this, anyone who still has an ounce of common sense, will confirm…“

I took the cat in my arms, pressed her to my chest and began to stroke her grey coat. I pressed her closer and closer to me and inhaled the familiar odour of smoke and the grass of the steppe. The cat also smelled of rubbish tips and mice. Our Ginger was strong and brave. More than once she had dealt with snakes who had slid into our yard. There was only one occasion when she had been unable to overcome an enormous, fat snake – she exhausted both herself and her enemy. The snake was still able to free itself and slip away, but some of the older children beat it to death with stones. Our cat disappeared at one and the same time as the snake. We searched for her for many days but were not able to find her. She had either run away or been killed.

However, ten days later, the cat unexpectedly appeared at our house again. It seemed that she had lain low for a while, somewhere. She must have been ashamed of how she had been unable to overcome the snake. „See how proud our Ginger is!“ grandfather praised her at the time.