Тимофеев Вячеслав Владимирович : другие произведения.

Aron Stepanyan Tales

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  Yaroslavl Translation Service, LLC
  Translator: Maria Shanina
  Editors: Daria Baryshnikova, Daria Sizova
  
  Aron Stepanyan is a pseudonym of the writer
  Viacheslav Vladimirovich Timofeev
  Words of appreciation
  I am thankful to my brothers Aleksei Fetisov and
  Pavel Timofeev, my friends Denis Naimark, Igor
  Sokolov and doctor Petrov A.L. for helping me to
  create this book.
  4
  At table with an Indian
  I woke up to a phone-call. It felt as if I had burnt a
  hand on boiling water. I put on my pants and answered
  the call, "Hello." The voice in the phone said, "It"s
  Natasha. Are you up? Yesterday little Max was crying
  when he came home from the training. He got the
  Scholar"s mate. At no cost tell the Grandfather." "OK."
  I answered with a yawn. Natasha continued tiring me
  to death with this conversation, "You haven"t forgotten,
  right? Your chess tournament starts tonight. I"ve sent
  your application." I sighed, "Using my USSR passport?"
  "No, the Israeli one." I was full of anger and hatred.
  In my Israeli passport (darkon) I was named Aron
  Stepanyan. I lit a cigarette and answered, "Thanks, it"s
  not for a boxing tournament." My wife suggested that
  I put on a jacket. In its pocket I found several receipts
  and a laminated card Master of Sports of the USSR.
  Then the wife told me
  that there was a letter waiting for me on the kitchen
  table. I came to the table holding a handset. It was a
  letter from the Tax Inspection. Also, there were utility
  bills lying on the table: a gas bill, a water bill, a trash bill
  and some others. I"ve counted seven of them. The wife
  talked on, "Little Max is at school, he has four lessons."
  I loved her son from her first marriage. He was seven
  - quite a kiddo. Natasha understood that it would
  be hard for her to bring up a son on her own. I had
  5
  suggested living together and then we got married at
  the marriage registry office. There they congratulated
  us, but got surprised at such a strange unit: a Jew and a
  Kazakh woman. But it was the peculiarity of that time:
  the time of compromises, when everyone did what he
  had to do, come what may.
  "The tournament starts at five, don"t be late," the
  wife went on telling what was there in the fridge and
  in the washing machine, and that the sneakers should
  be washed by hand, she told me that she had been
  promoted to the lead engineer and that we would surely
  celebrate it on Friday night. Finally, she got distracted
  by the other line call and hung up.
  I entered the bathroom and examined myself in the
  mirror, leaning forwards and backwards. I took a tube
  of toothpaste and squeezed the remainings. The wife
  didn"t like to brush her teeth, so Ibought the toothpaste
  myself, choosing a cheap one. Then I went out to the
  balcony, lifted a 16 kg kettle-bell for several times,
  entered my room and made up the sofa. The cat had
  been sleeping on the sofa. It took off with a gloomy
  snout. I ironed trousers on the ironing board, picked up
  coins and put them into the pocket, took a newspaper
  from the mail box and went out into the yard.
  Fellows in the yard were playing chess. One of them
  called me out. It was Petrovich playing with his nextdour neighbour. I came up to Petrovich to play, so that
  6
  I could recollect openings and defenses, cause it had
  been long since I played chess.
  I quickly finished eight plays and headed to the
  nearest transport stop. On board of the bus it was hot
  and I had to unbutton my jacket. In thirty minutes I
  was in the city center next to the chess club, that was
  to be opened in several minutes. I spent some time
  standing at the fountain, reading a couple of articles in
  the newspaper and then I went to the jury table. Many
  people had already gathered in the hall, it was buzzing
  and smelled like wood.
  The international tournament lasted for several
  days. The jury seemed surprised at me entering the
  tournament at the last moment. He gave me a piece
  of paper with numbers and left for a meeting in the
  office. The winner got the title of Grand Master. Two
  grand masters had registered for the competition, and
  they were playing against each other today. My first
  competitor was Marko Forza from Italy, he was playing
  black. I refreshed my memory and got focused, the
  way dirty Harry played classical chess, like a pianist
  performing on the grand piano. He was holding the
  knight, the bishop and the rooks on the tip of his fingers,
  not allowing them a chance to rest.
  The bishop in my imagination was a tall well-built
  officer with mustache. The game started, we played the
  four knights defense, and ran the game like a carriage.
  7
  By quickly winning the pawn I made the second player
  capitulate. I was inspired by the first win. According
  to the rules, we had to play two games in one day. My
  second game started two hours later with a Japanese
  player Kenzo Yamamoto. Again, I finished the game
  by winning it exchanging rooks for 2 knights. After the
  game I went to the hotel for that night, that way it was
  easier for me to regain strength.
  Next day I put on the glasses and smoked a cigarette
  in the hotel hall, where a man and a woman were sitting
  waiting for breakfast. You can"t think well when you are
  hungry, so I decided to have breakfast with them. After
  the breakfast I ran to the chess club, my feet moved
  instinctively.
  On the second day I confronted a Grand Master. My
  tutor had taught me to sacrifice a couple of pieces as
  small change when playing with a strong opponent,
  for example, to exchange a knight for a bishop and put
  pawns into a weak position. We were playing for a long
  time. The game turned to be an end-game. I suggested
  a draw, the grand master from Great Britain agreed
  to it, so we parted ways. Then there was a game with
  a strong beginner from France, Charles Blanche. He
  surrendered after I gave him a knight and made a fork.
  I wrote down all my moves into a notebook and left.
  There were two games remaining. I had an omelet from
  three eggs for dinner and again stayed in the hotel for
  8
  the night.
  Sunday came. I bought a pack of sunflower seeds and
  marched towards (you may think the red dawn sky, but
  not to it) the success. The first game was with a German
  chess player named Fritz whose surname was difficult
  to pronounce. We were playing stubbornly, he did
  not agree to my suggestion of a draw, so I proclaimed
  Gardez and called a checkmate. He turned pale and
  swore, we shook hands.
  The sixth game was with a Russian player Alesha
  Karyagin. We played quickly and in a brain fog I
  exchanged pieces. In this game I agreed to a draw.
  The official results were announced on Monday
  evening. I got the second place in the tournament with
  five points. They presented me with a trophy cup and a
  book. The jury of international category Sergei Simonov
  put a silver medal on my neck saying, "Israeli chess
  school is one of the best." He kissed me on a cheek. To
  crown it all, one big candle was lit in honor for me. I
  thanked everyone, called a taxi and left. When the taxi
  driver saw my trophy and the medal, he agreed to drive
  me for ten rubles.
  The door at home was not locked. Natasha and Max
  were looking through photos. Max got excited when he
  saw me, he took the trophy and the medal and went to
  play into the room. The wife fed me meat, as she used
  to do in the best years of marriage. At 8 o"clock Monday
  9
  evening there was a direct flight to Tel Aviv from the
  only airport in our country that had flights to Israel. I
  had to ask a friend to give me a lift to the airport on his
  Mercedes. I read a couple of chapters from the presented
  book, boarded the Aeroflot plane and flew to Tel Aviv.
  There were my work and the other family waiting for
  me. Next to me two women were chit-chatting, I asked
  a flight attendant for some mineral water and closed my
  eyes... Chess... Family... Ben-Gurion...
  A talk with Rabbi
  I got a parcel straight at noon local Israel time. "Cdek
  company, wonderful," I thought to myself. The parcel
  had to be delivered by 5 o"clock to Rabbi Moskovic in
  Tel Aviv.
  I couldn"t stop wondering what was inside of it. As I
  carefully opened the parcel, I saw three things: a book
  on the Cabal, Stolichnaya Vodka and a tin of black
  caviar.
  Having found the driving license assigned to
  Stepanyan, I got into an old Daewoo Nexia (itdoes not
  skid on turns), started the car and rushed down the
  road with sunglasses on, as if I had a higher education.
  While driving I was humming an old Jewish song
  Shalom Aleichem.
  I drove to a synagogue and turned right. I parked
  the car next to a pub with a signboard Admiral. Then
  10
  I strolled to a wooden door, opened it and entered the
  synagogue.
  Rabbi Moskovic was a stout man of short stature. He
  suggested that we drank 50 grams of Stolichnaya he"d
  pulled out from the parcel. We drank it. I told him that
  I was born in Belarus, in a little place called Ruslo. He
  asked about my mother"s health. I answered that my
  mother Tanya had passed away several days ago. He
  glanced up and said, "We are all guests in this world."
  Disciples craving to talk to Rabbi started to fill the
  room. I left through the back door withoutsaying
  goodbye. Bright light blinded me and the train of
  thoughts led me forward.
  The cat, the petunia and the bookcase
  It was a hot summer, petunia was blooming in
  flowerbeds. I was driving pass the church, getting ready
  for work. The job of a warden implied concentration. I
  was in charge of guarding the hospital where I worked
  with a two on/two off schedule. I sat at the table in the
  hospital hall, with a bookcase and a water barrel next
  to me. At work I was sometimes reading old Soviet
  books from the bookcase that got more and more books
  with new patients arriving. The books were of different
  kinds: from detectives to French love novels.
  A black hospital cat liked to climb on top of that
  bookcase. He was always chased down from it and ran
  11
  away with its tail between the legs.
  After a shift I went on to drive a taxi, every time giving
  someone a lift.
  "Aron, your road has a sign L on it," my colleague
  said about me. Always seek for a part-time job, even in
  morgue.
  Tram rails
  I was sacked as soon as I arrived from Zurich and
  thus was robbed blind. I had no money left. I called
  an old friend of mine and asked her to meet me next
  to a statue of Karl Marx at 8 o"clock in the morning. It
  was raining and I got wet after 15 minutes of waiting.
  Suddenly I heard a car beep. An unknown woman went
  out from the car holding an umbrella and asked me, "Is
  it you looking for a job?" I analyzed the situation and
  answered, "Yes," red-faced.
  She suggested that I got into the car and I agreed.
  "Bella," she introduced herself. I answered "Aron."
  That"s how I got the job of a weaver at the factory.
  How amazing our women are.
  School named after Pushkin
  The wife was cooking broth. Yesterday we went to a
  club to dance. Natasha was wearing a bonnet. She told
  me that I"d been called out to school. The school was
  12
  with a profound learning of German language. When I
  got to the third floor, the school bell rang. Pupils rushed
  out of the classroom, and the teacher came out, a young
  man with a strange stroll.
  I introduced myself and asked, "What is the issue?" He
  explained, "Maxim was spitting rowan berries through
  a straw and girls didn"t like it, so we asked parents to
  come." I promised to speak seriously to Max. The issue
  was settled.
  There was a church with a churchyard nearby. I passed
  the gate and walked home.
  The root of all evil
  We were walking along the silver forest, me and my
  friend Igor. We were both over forty. I was no longer
  serving in church. We were arguing about which animals
  were dark and which were light. He told me that a raven
  was dark, for instance, and I answered him that a hare
  was light. He was assuring me that an elk could speak.
  There was still snow in the pine forest. At the edge of the
  forest, workers had uprooted a huge stump. A little boy
  of about ten years of age came out to us and asked for
  help, as, according to him, he"d teleported from another
  world. Igor inquired the boy on how he"d passed the
  border of reality. I interceded for the boy and said that
  flies were able to fluctuate anywhere in the air, but one
  couldn"t teleport from another world without losing the
  13
  soul. I told about prophet Daniel, who was in the midst
  of the fire and had no hurt. Hunters, whom I called
  biathletes, were following our trail. Awful guys, I had
  met them before. They could slam you with a sapper
  shovel or a forged boot, or easily shoot, examining the
  time accuracy.
  Igor"s dog was there with us. We tossed ideas around.
  Igor took out a pepper spray and gave it to the boy. I
  fastened Druzhok the dog on a carbine and told the
  boy that there was a way for him to get back home with
  God"s help. There was a path, he had to follow it, then
  to spray pepper and to get back into his world on the
  dog"s back.
  After the walk, I came home and switched on the
  radio, chuckled and said in a low voice, "Aron and radio
  Mayak." A radio announcer reported that a girl had
  been found, she remembered nothing, was recognized
  by a family and taken to the nearest hospital. I switched
  off the radio and turned on the telly. A handsome man
  dressed in dark, with a kerchief on his neck and a wide
  black belt with a buckle was speaking on the screen.
  That day he didn"t make a new mark on the belt.
  Aron"s path
  Have you ever seen a cart going down a paved road?
  As if four Samsara wheels are being pulled forward by
  a horse.
  14
  There was time when I served to Christ and was his
  warrior, kept the fast and did good in the honor of God.
  I read the Bible in a year, going through four chapters
  a day. I had my own plans and estimations. I had three
  versions of Bible at my disposal: a translation from
  Septuagint (old Greek language), the New Testament
  in a free-form translation and an American Bible, that
  was a present to a girlfriend. After I finished all three
  books, I started to compare them to each other and
  found some nonessential verbiage in New Testament,
  where some words and letters differed in spelling and
  meaning.
  You may say, that I lie, but I don"t, there are in
  consistencies. Anyone can check it.
  In my youth, I went dancing. DJ played different
  records there. People were dancing practically to any
  music mix.
  The form does not define the content.
  Empty space
  Independent households, a house with six windows
  on the front. We occupied half of the house, that made
  three windows. The rooster crowed. I brought a whole
  bucket of coal and lit the furnace. Father went out into
  the yard, sat on the bench running along the wall and
  drew out a bag of makhorka. He smoked cigarettes
  Prima, then opened the butts and pushed the remaining
  15
  tobacco into the bag. I came outside, sat on empty space
  of the bench and started to watch our neighbor Faina,
  who took a twig and left to graze the goats who"d eaten
  all the greenery in the neighborhood. Father started to
  make the so-called goat leg cigarette, carefully choosing
  makhorka. He tapped a cig, puffed and lit it. In the yard
  there stood a doghouse, full of straw. Nights were cold.
  Amur came out, rattling its chain.
  The latrine was cleaned once a year. To remove crap,
  our neighbor Tolik used a big tub. We liked to drink a
  little vodka together. Women used cold water to check
  if there was gas in the gas cylinder. In winter Father was
  wearing a hat: a muskrat one, that was like a real castle
  on his head.
  The whole life was lying ahead, and there were
  different alternatives.
  UFO
  Mikhail Sergeevich introduced a dry law. In stores,
  there were stuck flies hanging on sticky tapes that
  descended from the ceiling. Shop displays were empty.
  It was quiet on the streets. There were no fights. Natasha
  and I also stuck to each other, everyone called us
  Lovebirds.
  An old bus
  I was looking at a departing modern Soviet bus with
  16
  circular headlamps. Glass embedded in small grooves.
  Transparent salon of the bus with a ticket puncher.
  Warm and tough.
  Aron and Thomas
  I was holding my ground. It was an argument with
  a man of old age, with a long silvery beard, who was
  distributing newspapers and magazines. He suggested
  that I took a magazine Thomas. Irefused. The old man
  asked getting raged, "Are you from the Judaizers?" There
  were many people on the square. Getting embarrassed,
  I answered "No." He asked me about the Tsar and the
  Russians. I told him that I was waiting for the second
  advent. The old man tried to impose a newspaper to
  me, but I wished him luck and left.
  Jewish sausage
  This happened before I moved to Israel and had
  circumcision. In the 80s I was a shool student. After
  classes I was standing in a queue for a tea set, they got
  sold out. The sales woman told me to go home with not
  a sausage.
  I put on a heavy backpack and made my way home
  along Pobedy Street. The street was going down the
  hill, on the top of which there was a tram, it had to
  slow down there. Two street was going down the hill,
  on the top of which there was a tram, it had to slow
  17
  down there. Two boys of my age were sitting on a tram
  sausage and invited me to be the third to have a ride
  on a tram coupler. I got scared and refused. The tram
  started moving down the hill, the boys were laughing
  and yelling.
  Many years later, I would always bring several sticks of a kosher sausage when going to Russia from Israel.
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