Notes on the Cuff and Other Stories Read Online Free Page A

me?
     
    *
     
    I lie like a corpse on pebbles washed by salt water. I
am weak with hunger. My head aches from morning to midnight. Now it is night. I
cannot see the sea, only hear it rolling. Surging to and fro. A tardy wave hisses. Suddenly three tiers of lights emerge from behind a dark
promontory.
    The Polatsky is
sailing to the
Golden Horn
.
    ……………………………………………………………….
     
    Tears salty as sea water.
     
     
     
    Saw a poet, one of the unknown. He was walking round Nuri Bazaar trying
to sell his hat. The peasants laughed at him.
    He smiled shamefacedly and explained he wasn't joking.
He was selling his hat because his money had been stolen. That was a lie. He'd
been broke for ages. Hadn't eaten for three days. He
confessed later, when we were sharing a pound of cheese. Told me he was on his
way from
Penza
to
Yalta
. I nearly burst out
laughing. But then I remembered: what about me?
     
    *
     
    My cup is full to overflowing. The "new
head" arrived at twelve o'clock.
    He walked in and said:
    " Ve vill take a different path! No more of ziss pornographia : Vit Vorks Voe and The Government Inspector by Goggle.
Boggle. Ve vill write our
own plays."
    Then he got into his car and drove off.
    His face imprinted itself on my memory forever.
     
    *
     
    An hour later I sold my overcoat at the bazaar. There
was an evening boat. But he wouldn't let me go. Understand? Wouldn't let me go !..
     
    *
     
    I've had enough! Let the
Golden
Horn
shine. I'll never reach it. There's a limit to a man's
strength. Mine's finished. I'm starving, broken! There's no blood in my brain.
I'm weak and scared. But I won't stay here any longer. So ... that means ...
that means ...

 
     
     
14.
GOING HOME
     
    Going home. By sea. Then by goods van. And if the money runs out — on foot. But I'm going
home. My life is ruined. I'm going home!
    To
Moscow
!
To
Moscow
!
    ……………………………………………………………………
    Farewell, Tsikhidziri .
Farewell, Makhindzhauri .
Green
Cape
,
farewell!
     
    Moscow
, 1923
     

PART TWO

 
     
THE
MOSCOW
ABYSS. TWANVLAM
     
    Pitch dark. Clanging. Rumbling. Wheels still turning, but slower
and slower. Now they've stopped. That's it. The end to end all ends. Nowhere else to go. This is
Moscow
. M-O-S-C-O-W.
    A moment's attention to a long powerful
sound swelling up in the darkness. Mind-splitting reverberations in my brain:
     
    C'est la lu-u-tte fina -a-le!
    ... L'lnternationa -a-a-le!!
     
    Here too. Just as hoarse and terrifying:
     
    The Internationale !
     
    A row of goods vans in the dark. The students'
carriage had gone quiet...
    I took the plunge at last and jumped down. A soft body
slipped away from under me with a groan. Then I got caught on a rail and fell
even deeper down. Heavens, was there really an abyss below me?
    Grey bodies heaved monstrous loads onto their
shoulders and flowed off.
    A woman's voice:
    "Oh, dear, I can't..."
    In the misty darkness I made out a medical student.
She had travelled with me, hunched up, for three days.
    "Allow me to carry that."
    For a moment the black abyss seemed to shudder and
turn green. How much had she got in there?
    "A hundredweight of flour... They trod it
down."
    Staggered along, zigzagging, spots before the eyes,
towards the lights.
    They broke into beams. The weird grey snake crawled
towards them. A glass dome. A long
roaring sound. Blinding light. A ticket. A gate. Exploding voices. Curses falling heavily. More darkness. More light. Darkness.
Moscow
!
Moscow
.
    The cart was loaded up to the church domes, to the
stars in velvet. It clattered along, while the demonic voices of grey bodies
cursed it and the man urging on the horse. A flock followed behind. The medical
student's long whitish coat appeared now to one side, now to the other. But in
the end we emerged from the tangle of wheels, and left the bearded faces
behind. We rattled on over the potholed pavement. Pitch black. Where were