Twenty-six and One and Other Stories Part 12

"Well, my fine young fellow, I brought you to your father, didn't I?"

said Malva, brus.h.i.+ng up against Iakov's robust figure.

He turned towards her his face framed in its curled blond beard, and with a brilliant gleam in his eyes said:

"Yes, here we are--It's fine here, isn't it? What a stretch of sea!"

"The sea is great. Has the old man changed much?"

"No, not much. I expected to find him more grey. He's still pretty solid."

"How long is it since you saw him?"

"About five years. I was nearly seventeen when he left the village."

They entered the cabin, the air of which was suffocating from the heat and the odor of cooking fish. They sat down. Between them there was a roughly-hewn oak table. They looked at each other for a long time without speaking.

"So you want to work here?" said Malva at last.

"I don't know. If I find something, I'll work."

"You'll find work," replied Malva with a.s.surance, examining him critically with her green eyes.

He paid no attention to her, and with his sleeve wiped away the perspiration that covered his face.

She suddenly began to laugh.

"Your mother probably sent messages for your father by you?"

Iakov gave a shrug of ill humor and replied:

"Of course. What if she did?"

"Oh, nothing."

And she laughed the louder.

Her laugh displeased Iakov. He paid no attention to her and thought of his mother's instructions. When she accompanied him to the end of the village she had said quickly, blinking her eyes:

"In Christ's name, Iakov say to him: 'Father, mother is alone yonder.

Five years have gone by and she is always alone. She is getting old.'

Tell him that, Iakov, my little Iakov, for the love of G.o.d. Mother will soon be an old woman. She's always alone, always at work. In Christ's name, tell him that."

And she had wept silently, hiding her face in her ap.r.o.n.

Iakov had not pitied her then, but he did now. And his face took on a hard expression before Malva, as if he were about to abuse her.

"Here I am!" cried Va.s.sili, bursting in on them with a wriggling fish in one hand and a knife in the other.

He had not got over his uneasiness, but had succeeded in dissimulating it deep within him. Now he looked at his guests with serenity and good nature; only his manner was more agitated than usual.

"I'll make a bit of a fire in a minute, and we'll talk. Why, Iakov, what a fine fellow you've grown!"

Again he disappeared.

Malva went on munching her melon seeds. She stared familiarly at Iakov.

He tried not to meet her eyes, although he would have liked to, and he thought to himself:

"Life must come easy here. People seem to eat as much as they want to.

How strong she is and father, too!"

Then intimidated by the silence, he said aloud:

"I forgot my bag in the boat. I'll go and get it."

Iakov rose leisurely and went out. Va.s.sili appeared a moment later. He bent down towards Malva and said rapidly with anger:

"What did you want to bring him for? What shall I tell him about you?"

"What's that to me? Am I afraid of him? Or of you?" she asked, closing her green eyes with disdain. Then she laughed: "How you went on when you saw him. It was so funny!"

"Funny, eh?"

The sand crunched under Iakov's steps and they had to suspend their conversation. Iakov had brought a bag which he threw into a corner. He cast a hostile look at the young woman.

She went on munching her seeds. Va.s.sili, seating himself on the woodbin, said with a forced smile:

"What made you think of coming?"

"Why, I just came. We wrote you."

"When? I haven't received any letter."

"Really? We wrote often."

"The letter must have got lost," said Va.s.sili regretfully. "It always does when it's important."

"So you don't know how things are at home?" asked Iakov, suspiciously.

"How should I know? I received no letter."

Then Iakov told him that the horse was dead, that all the corn had been eaten before the beginning of February, and that he himself had been unable to find any work. Hay was also short, and the cow had almost perished from hunger. They had managed as best they could until April and then they decided that Iakov should join the father far away and work three months with him. That is what they had written. Then they sold three sheep, bought flour and hay and Iakov had started.

"How is that possible?" cried Va.s.sali. "I sent you some money."

"Your money didn't go far. We repaired the cottage, we had to marry sister off and I bought a plough. You know five years is a long time."

"Hum," said Va.s.sili, "wasn't it enough? What a tale of woe! Ah, there's my soup boiling over!"

He rose and stooping before the fire on which was the saucepan, Va.s.sili meditated while throwing the sc.u.m into the flame. Nothing in his son's recital had touched him particularly, and he felt irritated against his wife and Iakov. He had sent them a great deal of money during the last five years, and yet they had not been able to manage. If Malva had not been present he would have told his son what he thought about it. Iakov was smart enough to leave the village on his own responsibility and without the father's permission, but he had not been able to get a living out of the soil. Va.s.sili sighed as he stirred the soup, and as he watched the blue flames he thought of his son and Malva.