|
Chapter Sixteen
 mitri and Zina sat in a dimly lit and cold waiting room of the People's Hospital on Taganskaya. They both were hungry, tired, irritable, angry, and terribly depressed. Dmitri got up from time to time to pace about, and inquire of the waiting room attendant-nurse as to whether anything was known of his mother's condition. It was nearly 1:00 a.m., Christmas morning. Dmitri, Zina, and a comatose Tatiana had all arrived at the hospital about 12:15 a.m. in an ambulance. It was not until just a few minutes before, that Dmitri and Zina had noticed the time, and gloomily wished each other Christmas greetings. They kissed, hugged and held each other for several minutes. Dmitri cried mournfully.
 Dmitri had arrived at his mother's room at around 9:30 p.m. to find Sofya Konstantinova at Tatiana's bedside. Dmitri had determined that his mother was in fact alive, but probably in a coma. Why? He did not know. He called the hospital and requested an ambulance to immediately come to 109 Kalanchevskaya. Dmitri tried to call a taxicab. He was prepared to carry his mother down the 25 steps himself if he had to. But no taxicabs were available. He had to wait, and wait for the ambulance. About 11:00 p.m. Zina arrived at Tatiana's room accompanied by Drugo. The people that Zina were expecting to come to the apartment to see Sasha prior to going to the church: Anya and Drugo, and Ostavlyavich and Aglaya Afanaseevna Gromenko, a widow Ostavlyavich had begun seeing some weeks before - had arrived earlier that night. Ostavlyavich and Gromenko decided to proceed on to church as scheduled to offer the celebratory mass for Tatiana. Anya offered to stay with Sasha. Drugo volunteered to accompany Zina to Tatiana's room at 109 Kalanchevskaya.
At last, a tall middle-aged and sleepy-eyed man in a white smock emerged slowly from a door next to where the attendant-nurse was sitting. He looked around the waiting room in the most relaxed and unconcerned manner. There were several other people waiting with Dmitri and Zina. Some stood, some sat. Dmitri walked right up to the sleepy-eyed man as the latter said,
"Relatives or friends of Tatiana Dumatskaya?"
"Here, here! Are you the doctor? I am the son." Zina rushed up beside Dmitri.
"Yes, of course, please follow me," said the tall man. He led Dmitri and Zina through the door from which he had emerged to a little room down a corridor. It was barely the size of a closet. There were no chairs.
"Cancer of the breast, I'm afraid," said the doctor after introducing himself. His surname was Utka.
"Who is her physician? I see no record of her being at the Hospital for treatment. She is rather too far along for an operation. How long has she been comatose? The disease has spread to the brain. Little hope. Dying. Coming out of the coma -- a slight possibility, but certainly no recovery."
Dmitri and Zina's knees seemed to buckle at the same time. If they had not been there for each other's support, they probably would have each fallen. Zina nearly fainted. Dr. Utka tried to suppress a yawn. He was successful. He excused himself and turned away and yawned fully. When he again looked at Dmitri and Zina, he saw their ghastly faces, their fear, and their total surprise at the situation.
"Can it be that you knew nothing of this?"
Zina began to cry. Dmitri held her and shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm very sorry. We can keep her here for a few days. Then...? We will see. Do you want to make a brief visit to the ward where she is?"
Dmitri again nodded. He again began to cry. Dr. Utka took Dmitri and Zina to the Cancer Ward.
 round midnight, V. V. Podly entered the house of 120 Novokirovskaya through the unlocked sun porch door. He proceeded cautiously through the dark, narrow hallway. On his right, a dim flickering light was coming from Zina's and Dmitri's bedroom, and played eerily on the wooden floor. The door was halfway open. Podly looked into the room. Anya Drugo was standing at a small window that looked out at the house across a narrow courtyard. She was holding Sasha, who straddled her right hip. She was singing a traditional Church Slavonic Christmas carol softly in her deep voice. She was watching light snow fall. To her right in the corner of the room, she had lit and placed ten small candles on the small table that sat there. In the condition that Podly was in, and with the candles and with the sound of Anya's rather off-key distorted version of the carol, making it sound vaguely like a traditional funeral hymn, Podly thought that Zina was dead. Tears, therefore, immediately filled his eyes. The more he tried to focus his eyes through the tears, squinting and rubbing them, the more distorted his vision became. Anya and Sasha appeared to him to be the Madonna and Child. The next thought he had was that he might also be dead. And if he could be with Zina, then he accepted his fate. The bed in the middle of the room was unmade, blankets and pillows lay about. It looked to Podly like someone lying in the bed.
"It is Zina," he thought.
Podly moved back into the dark hallway. He removed his overcoat and let it fall to the floor. He was wearing a black cassock and over it a starched, dazzlingly white surplice trimmed in red and gold. Those remnants from his days as Children's Choirmaster at the Cathedral of St. Sofya in Novgorod had been kept all these years. He didn't know why. He never intended to wear them again -- until that night, that Christmas Eve. He stepped into the room. Anya and Sasha were then facing him directly. Anya was humming softly. Her eyes were closed. Sasha's eyes were wide open. Podly rubbed his eyes and took one step closer to the two of them. The room was small. The bed separated Podly from Anya and Sasha. Podly felt afraid. The Christ child was staring at him! The Child knew of Podly's terrible sin. Podly trembled with fear. He shuddered and was about to go into convulsions. He made the sign of the cross. The Child opened his mouth and cried out. His voice pierced Podly's heart and soul, and he threw himself on the bed in fear, despair, and repentance.
Anya opened her eyes at the sound of Sasha's cry, and the subsequent sound of a heavy body falling on the bed in front of her. She fell back against the window clutching Sasha to her breast. She screamed in horrible fear. Sasha began to cry violently. Podly began thrashing around on the bed. His face was buried in the blankets and pillows. He began to moan. His head turned from side to side as he cried out mournfully.
"Oh holy Christ child, my forgiveness, I beg for forgiveness! Zina! Zinochka, for the sake of Christ, save me!"
For an instant, Anya's fear abated when she heard the man saying such things. She suddenly thought of the gun that she brought to Zina several months before. If it was still where Zina had put it in the dresser with her underwear -- that dresser was on the other side of the bed. Anya decided to try to leave the room, when suddenly she recognized the face of the man rolling on the bed when the face came into view.
"Commissar Podly!" she cried. "My God, is that you?"
Podly continued to roll on the bed, but at the mention of his name, he stopped his diatribe.
"Commissar Podly! What are you doing here?"
Podly stopped moving. He raised his head. He began to breath very heavily. He was gasping for breath. He tried to speak.
"The. . . The. . . Mo. . . ther of God!"
Anya put Sasha into his crib. He was still crying. She fell to her knees and looked directly into Podly's face. He was sweating profusely. His eyes were rolling in his head. He continued to gasp for breath.
"He's having a fit, or a heart attack," Anya cried out loud. Podly did not move. Anya didnšt see him breathing. Sasha was still crying. Anya was afraid to touch Podly.
"Commissar Podly, Commissar Podly!"
She would go to the pantry, get a rag with water, try to wet his face. That's all she could think of. She took Sasha out of the crib and went to the pantry. She took a cloth used for drying dishes and soaked it in water. Then she heard someone pounding on the front door of the house and yelling. She turned off the water and listened. She thought she heard her name being called. And there was more pounding on the door. The door was always left open. Sometimes, Zina locked the door in the foyer to their apartment. A man's voice? Could it be Drugo? She dropped the wet cloth, left the kitchen, and went through the sitting room to the door of the apartment. Once in the foyer, she could see Drugo outside through the glass on the side of the door. She tried to unlock the door from the inside, but it seemed to be jammed. She could only use one hand because she held Sasha with her other hand. The baby seemed petrified and had not stopped crying since Podly first entered the bedroom. Sasha began to choke from all the hysterical crying. Anya had to stop trying to get the door open, and calm Sasha. Drugo pushed the door with all his might. He pushed again, and the door opened.
"Drugo, quick, Podly, in the bedroom, he's dying!"
Anya turned abruptly and went into the apartment leaving her husband in the foyer with the most confused and astonished look on his face. Drugo followed after her. He was a room behind. When he got to the bedroom, Anya was standing there pointing to the empty bed with her mouth open and her blue eyes as wide as the Volga.
"He's. . . he's gone, Drugo! He was here, dying, just minutes ago!"
Drugo checked the little room with the toilet. Then he went out to the sun porch: no one. The door was wide open. He went out to the snow-covered steps and down into the yard. He saw that there were footprints leading up the steps and down the steps. The same was true in the yard around the house: footprints. Drugo hurried back onto the sun porch and into the bedroom. He found Anya sitting on the bed holding Sasha. Both had tears streaming down their faces. Anya was shaking her head in disbelief as Drugo asked her,
"What has happened here?"
|
