The Complete Works of Isaac Babel Reprint Edition by Isaac Babel, Nathalie Babel, Peter Constantine
Page 82
KATYA [Comes up to him silently, stands next to him., and rests her head on his shoulder.. I always meet Redko at the headquarters in what used to be an antechamber. Theres an oilskin sofa there. I go in, Redko locks the door, and afterward he unlocks it.
GOLITSYN: I see.
KATYA: I am going home to Borisoglebsk, mon prince.
GOLITSYN: That would be for the best.
KATYA: Redko keeps lecturing me on whom to love, whom to hate. He says that the law of big numbers is now in effect. But I, you see, am a small number. What do I matter?
GOLITSYN: But you do matter.
KATYA: Yes, I do matter! I should count! I am free now, Nanny. . . . Wake up. Please wake up. You’d sleep right through the Second Coming!
NEFEDOVNA [Raises her head.. Where’s Ludmila?
KATYA: Ludmila will be back soon, and I’m leaving town, so there’ll be nobody to give you a hard time.
NEFEDOVNA: Why give me a hard time? What is there for me to do? I was born to be a nanny, hired to raise children, but there are no children here. The house is full of women, but there’s not a single child in sight. One’s gone off to fight a war, as if there’s no one else who can do the fighting, the other one is roaming around lost. What kind of a house is this to be without children?
KATYA: We’ll have some children by Immaculate Conception.
NEFEDOVNA: All you girls do is talk! You think I don’t see what’s going on? With you girls, nothing ever amounts to anything.
GOLITSYN: Go to Borisoglebsk, they need you. It’s a wasteland there, with beasts devouring each other.
NEFEDOVNA: Look at the Molostovs—two-bit merchants, but they saw to it that their nanny was given a pension. Fifty rubles a month! Prince, why don’t you see to it that I get a pension too?
GOLITSYN [Lights the makeshift tin stove.]: No one would listen to me now, Nanny. I have no connections these days.
NEFEDOVNA: But they were just two-bit merchants!
[MUKOVNIN enters. The front door opens, and MUKOVNIN staggers back at the sight of FILIP, large and shapeless, hooded and wrapped in rags. Half of FILIP i face is covered in raw scar tissue. He is wearing felt boots.]
MUKOVNIN: Who are you?
FILIP [Moves closer.]: One of Ludmila Nikolayevnas acquaintances. MUKOVNIN: How may I help you?
FILIP: There has been a small disaster, Your Excellency.
KATYA: Did Mr. Dimshits send you?
FILIP: Yes, he sent me. The whole thing started from nothing.
KATYA: What about Ludmila Nikolayevna?
FILIP: They were all there together.... They were having a little fun, Your Excellency, but things got out of hand. Captain Viskovsky and, well, Kravchenko ... they went at each other, both were a little tipsy— GOLITSYN: General Mukovnin, let me have a word with our Comrade here.
FILIP: Its not like anything special happened. It was a misunderstanding. Both were a little tipsy, both had weapons—
MUKOVNIN: Where is my daughter?
FILIP: We are not sure, Your Excellency.
MUKOVNIN: Tell me where my daughter is! You need not hold anything back from me!
FILIP [Barely audibly.]: She’s been arrested.
MUKOVNIN: I have looked death in the eye. I am a soldier!
FILIP [Louder.]: They’ve arrested her, Your Excellency.
MUKOVNIN: You mean theyVe arrested her? What for?
FILIP: Some illness or something got them going. Kravchenko says, “You gave her that illness, Captain Viskovsky, so I’ll shoot you!” And they had weapons on them, so she—
MUKOVNIN: The Cheka* came for her?
FILIP: Some men came and took her away, who knows who they were. .. . nowadays no one wears no uniform, Your Excellency. You cant tell who’s who.
MUKOVNIN: Katya, I must go to Smolny!6
KATYA: Youre not going anywhere, Nikolai Vasilevich! You mustn’t!
MUKOVNIN: I must go to Smolny immediately!
KATYA: Please, Nikolai Vasilevich—
MUKOVNIN: The thing is, Katya, that my daughter must be returned to me immediately. [He goes to the telephoned Would you please connect me to Military Headquarters!
KATYA: You mustn’t!
MUKOVNIN: I would like to speak to Comrade Redko. . . . This is Mukovnin. . . . All I can tell you, Comrade, is that in former days I was quartermaster general of the Sixth Army.... Hello, is that you, Comrade Redko? Hello, Comrade Redko! This is Mukovnin speaking. I hope you are well. ... I am very sorry to disturb you. . . . The thing is that yesterday evening some armed men came and arrested my daughter Ludmila at a hotel on Nevsky Prospekt, number 86.1 am not asking you to pull strings, Comrade Redko, I know that that sort of thing is frowned upon in your organization, I simply wish to announce that it is vital I see my oldest daughter, Maria Nikolayevna. You see, I have been somewhat unwell recently, and I feel it essential that I consult with her. We have sent telegrams and express letters to her—I know Katya has asked for your help in that—but we’ve received no answer. I would like to request to speak to her directly. ... I should add that General Brusilov^ has invited me to come to Moscow to discuss my return to active duty.... Oh, you say our letters were delivered? On the eighth? Well, I am very grateful to you! The best of luck, Comrade Redko! [He hangs up. Everything is fine. They have found Maria and our telegram was delivered to her on the eighth! She’ll be in Petersburg tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the latest. Nanny, we must tidy up Maria’s room—tomorrow you will have to get up at the crack of dawn and tidy it up! Katya is right—this apartment is a mess. We really have let it go, there’s dust everywhere! We have to put covers on all the furniture. . . . Do we have covers, Katya?
KATYA: We have some, but not for all the furniture.
MUKOVNIN [Rushing around the room.]: We must cover the furniture at all cost! It will be nice for Maria to find everything just as she left it. Why not make things comfortable, if one is able to? Not to mention, at our place there’s no chance to at least s'a-muser a little. You have no penchant whatsoever for amusement, Katya, darling, you’ll lag behind the times if you don’t go to the theater.
KATYA: When Maria comes back, I shall go to the theater.
MUKOVNIN [To FILIP.]: I’m sorry, what is your name?
FILIP: Filip Andreyevich.
MUKOVNIN: Why don’t you take a seat, Filip Andreyevich? We didn’t even thank you for all your trouble. We must offer Filip Andreyevich something to eat. Nanny, do we have anything we can offer him? We always like having guests, Filip Andreyevich, though you must forgive our simple hospitality. Please, make yourself comfortable. We must introduce you to Maria Nikolayevna—
KATYA: You must get some rest, Nikolai Vasilevich. You must go and lie down.
MUKOVNIN: And for your information, I’m not in the least bit worried about Ludmila. It will be a lesson for her, a lesson because of her childishness, her lack of experience. . . . For your information, I’m even glad. . . . [He shudders, stops, collapses into a chair. KATYA rushes over to him.] Don’t worry, Katya, don’t worry. . . .
KATYA: Are you all right?
MUKOVNIN: It’s nothing, it’s just my heart. . . .
[KATYA and GOLITSYN help him up and lead him out.]
FILIP: He looks a bit rattled.
NEFEDOVNA [Laying out plates on the table.]: Were you there when they arrested our young lady?
FILIP: Yes, I was.
NEFEDOVNA: Did she fight back?
FILIP: At first she did, but then she just went with them.
NEFEDOVNA: I’ll give you some potatoes and some fruit pudding too. FILIP: Believe it or not, Grandma, we had a whole tubful of meat noodles back at our place, and then with all these troubles, we looked away for a second and they’d disappeared into thin air. NEFEDOVNA [She puts the potatoes in front of him.]: They boiled off your face during the Civil War?
FILIP: No, it got boiled off a while back, during the civil peace. NEFEDOVNA: So, you think there’ll be another war? What do your people say?
FILIP [Eating.]: There’ll be war in August.
NEFEDOVNA: What, with the Poles?
FILIP: With the Poles.
NEFEDOVNA: Haven’t we already given them all the land they want? FILIP: What they want is for their country to stretch from sea to sea.
They want it to be like it was in old times again.
NEFEDOVNA: What idiots!
[KATYA enters.]
KATYA: The general is in very bad shape. We must call the doctor. FILIP: Doctors, miss, don’t come at such an hour.
KATYA: He is dying, Nanny! His nose has turned blue. . . . He already has the look of death on him!
FILIP: The doctors have all bolted their doors. You couldn’t get them to come out at night even at gunpoint.
KATYA: We must go and get some oxygen from a pharmacy!
FILIP: Is His Excellency a union member?
KATYA: I don’t know. We don’t know anything about such things here. FILIP: If he’s not a union member, then they won’t give him any.
[The doorbell rings sharply. FILIP goes to open the door; and then returns.]
FILIP: It’s ... it’s .. . Maria Nikolayevna. . . .
KATYA: Maria?
[KATYA goes toward the door with outstretched arms, bursts into tears,
stops, covers her face with her hands, # then drops them. ^her
stands a RED ARMY FIGHTER, about nineteen years old, with long legs. He is dragging a sack behind him. GOLITSYN enters and stops by the door.]
RED ARMY FIGHTER: Greetings!
KATYA: My God! What happened to Maria!
RED ARMY FIGHTER: Maria Nikolayevna has sent you some supplies.
KATYA: Where is she? Is she with you?
RED ARMY FIGHTER: Maria Nikolayevna is with the division—everyone’s at their positions now. IVe got something here for you—some boots—
KATYA: She didnt come with you?
RED ARMY FIGHTER: No, of course not. Were in the middle of a battle, Comrade.
KATYA: WeVe sent her letters, telegrams. . . .
RED ARMY FIGHTER: You can send what you want, it makes no difference. The units are on the move night and day.
KATYA: Are you going to see her?
RED ARMY FIGHTER: Sure I am. Do you want me to tell her something?
KATYA: Yes, please tell her . . . tell her that her father is dying—that there is no hope of saving him. Tell her that he called out to her on his deathbed . . . and that her sister, Ludmila, is no longer living with us, as she’s been arrested. Tell Maria Nikolayevna that we wish her all the best, and that she mustn’t feel remorse about not being here with us in our hour of need. . . .
[The RED ARMY FIGHTER looks around, and steps back—MUKOVNIN comes staggering out of his room. His eyes are wandering, his hair disheveled, there is a smile on his face.
MUKOVNIN: You see, Maria, all the time you were away I wasn’t in the least bit sick! On best behavior! [He sees the RED ARMY FIGHTER.] Who is this? [He repeats his question louder. Who is this? Who is this? [He collapses.]
NEFEDOVNA [Sinks to her knees beside MUKOVNIN.]: Are you leaving me, my little Kolya? Aren’t you going to wait for your poor old Nanny?
[MUKOVNIN wheezes. Death throes.]
Scene Eight
Noon. Blinding light. Outside the window, the sun-drenched columns of the
Hermitage and a corner of the Winter Palace. The empty apartment of the
MUKOVNINS. ANDREI and his apprentice KUZMA, a fat-faced young man, are polishing the floor upstage. AGASHA is shouting out of the window.
AGASHA: Damn you, Nyusha, dont let the child get all dirty down there! Where are your eyes, you sitting on them or something? A grown wench and still a fool! Tikhon! Hey, Tikhon! Why did you leave the shed door open? Lock the shed! Hello, Yegorovna! Is there any way I can get some salt from you till the first? Til have my coupons by then and you’ll get it back. I’ll send my girl over to you with a little jar, and you can put the salt in it. . . . Tikhon! Hey, Tikhon! Have you been by the Novoseltsevs? When are they moving out?
TIKHON’S VOICE: They say they have nowhere to go!
AGASHA: They knew how to live nice and grand, now let them move out nice and grand! Tell them theyVe got till Sunday. Tell them that if they’re still there after Sunday, things will get ugly! Nyusha! Damn you! Open your eyes! The child is stuffing dirt up its nose! Bring the child up here this instant, and come and wash windows instead! To the floorpolisher.} So, how are things moving along?
ANDREI: We’re putting some muscle into it.
AGASHA: Then how about putting some muscle into those corners too? You haven’t done them!
ANDREI: What corners?
AGASHA: All four corners. And you’ve turned the whole floor rusty brown. Is it supposed to be like that? The color’s off!
ANDREI: We don’t have the right materials to work with nowadays.
AGASHA: You think I was born yesterday? If there was money in it, you’d come up with the right materials in a second.
ANDREI: If it was up to me, I wouldn’t ask my worst enemy to clean floors after the Revolution! During the Revolution the dirt grew to three inches thick on these floors—you couldn’t shave it off with a plane! I should get a medal for cleaning floors after the Revolution, and all you do is bark.
[KATYA, wearing mourning, enters upstage with SUSHKIN.]
SUSHKIN: The only reason Im buying all this stuff is because I’m a furniture fanatic. Im nuts about furniture! I simply cant walk past an antique piece and resist it. Antiques make me crazy. But as we all know, buying anything large nowadays is like hanging a millstone around your neck and jumping into a lake, you get dragged right to the bottom. So you buy something, youre full of enthusiasm, and then the next morning, in the cold light of day, you dont know what to do with all the stuff.
KATYA: You forget that everything here is of exquisite quality. The Stroganoffs had this furniture brought from Paris a hundred years ago.
SUSHKIN: And that is why Im giving you a billion two hundred rubles for it.
KATYA: How many loaves of bread does that buy?
SUSHKIN: Well, but you cant count these things in loaves of bread—you have to take into consideration the fact that Fm buying these pieces as a madman, as an enthusiast. Im sure you know well enough what a risk Im taking, owning grand pieces of furniture—I’ll be the first in line to get carted off. [Changes his tone.] Fve brought some young men with me. [Shouts downstairs.] Okay, everyone, you can come up now! And bring some ropes!
AGASHA [Stepsforward.]: And where d’you think youre going to drag this off to?
SUSHKIN: I dont believe I have had the pleasure . . .
KATYA: This is our caretaker.
AGASHA: Fm the janitor here.
SUSHKIN: Pleased to meet you. How about this: you help us carry down the furniture, and we’ll take care of you.
AGASHA: That will not be possible, Comrade.
SUSHKIN: What do you mean, not possible?
AGASHA: There’s people moving in here from the basement.
SUSHKIN [Dismissively.]: Really? Fascinating!
AGASHA: And where are they going to get furniture from, if I may ask?
SUSHKIN: That is of no concern to us, Comrade.
KATYA: Agasha, Maria Nikolayevna has authorized me to sell all the furniture.
SUSHKIN [To AGASHA.]: Excuse me, Comrade, but does this furniture belong to you?
AGASHA: The furniture isn’t mine, just as it isn’t yours.
SUSHKIN: Listen, lady, first of all, you and I haven’t shat in the same hole, okay? Secondly, your attitude is going to get you into trouble.
AGASHA: You bring a warrant, and I’ll let you cart off the furniture. KATYA: Agasha, this furniture belongs to Maria Nikolayevna, and as you know—
AGASHA: Everything I knew, madame, I have forgotten—IVe had to relearn everything.
SUSHKIN: Careful, you’re getting into deep waters!
AGASHA: You raise your voice to me and you’
re out of here!
KATYA: Let us go, Mr. Sushkin.
SUSHKIN [To AGASHA.]: You’re a bit above yourself.
AGASHA: Bring me a warrant, and then you can cart everything out. SUSHKIN: We’ll be discussing this elsewhere.
AGASHA: Yes, down at the police station.
KATYA: Let us go, Mr. Sushkin.
SUSHKIN: I will go, but of one thing you can be sure: when I come back, I won’t be alone.
AGASHA: Madame, what you’re doing isn’t right.
[They leave. ANDREI and KUZMA finish polishing the floor.
They gather their equipment.]
KUZMA: She sure gave it to him.
ANDREI: That little lady knows how to throw punches.
KUZMA: Was she here when the general was around?
ANDREI: Back then she kept her head low and her mouth shut.
KUZMA: I’m sure the general was a nasty customer!
ANDREI: No, he wasn’t! He never was! Whenever you went up to him, he’d say hello, shake hands with you. We all loved him.
KUZMA: What are you saying? How could you all love a general? ANDREI: Because we’re a bunch of fools! He didn’t do any more harm than was to be expected. He chopped his own firewood.
KUZMA: Was he old?
ANDREI: Not really.
KUZMA: Then why did he die?
ANDREI:
“Man doesn't die because he's infirm He dies because he's served his term.''
And the general had served his term.
[Enter AGASHA, SAFONOV—a bony, young, taciturn worker—and his pregnant wife ELENA, a tall woman, not more than twenty, with a small brightface. She is in the final stages of her pregnancy. They are loaded with household goods: stools, mattresses, a little paraffin stove.
ANDREI: Wait a second, wait a second—let me spread something on the floor!
AGASHA: Come in, Safonov, dont be afraid! This is where you are going to live!
ELENA: This is so fancy, couldnt we get a place thats less . . .
AGASHA: Its time you got used to better things.
ANDREI: Youll be surprised how fast youll get used to better things. AGASHA: The kitchens to the left, and the bath where you can wash is over there. Come on, young man, lets go get the rest of the stuff. You stay here, Elena, and don’t walk around—youll lose your baby.