"Genka, why don't you join the Party and become an important man – say, District Administrator?"
"Are you kidding, Ed? That's so fucking depressing – making a career as a communist. It's bad enough that it ruined most of my dad's life – crawling on his knees."
Even the fact that Genya swore testifies to his aversion to a Communist career. Genka is indifferent to ideology, Genka has no political views. What Genka wants from life is the "high": pleasure, adventure, romance. And what kind of "high" is there in wearing a hole in your trousers sitting at Party meetings? Genka's favorite film is "The Adventurers" with Alain Delon and Lena Ventura in starring roles. That's what Genka loves – treasure-hunting, gunfights, expensive restaurants, crystal, cognac, candlelight, champagne… Ed remembers Genka's dilated pupils after the film. They watched "The Adventurers" twice – Genka, Nonna, as beautiful as Genka, and Ed. Genka is as handsome as Alain Delon, "The Beautiful One," Bakhchanyan calls him. He's blond, six feet tall, light-blue eyes, a straight nose, a noble bearing. After "The Adventurers," they drank and wandered around for a few days, and were arrested one night on the runway-area of the Kharkov Airport while trying to get into a jet transport. What they wanted on the jet will remain an insoluble mystery, but it is worth noting that "The Adventurers" begins with Alain Delon flying through the Arc de Triomphe.
"Let's do it, Ed!"
"Let's do it." Ed looks fondly at his friend.
Chapter 3
"They're drinking, the scoundrels!"
Anna Moiseevna has appeared at the very moment when Dusya had refilled the young men's wineglasses. She is standing on the grass by the veranda, her bright eyes angry. Her robust body is covered by a crepe-de-chine dress. There are green, black and white flowers on Anna's body. She has a purse in her hand. Her graying hair is tied back in a tight chignon. Her turned-up nose gives her face a pert look.
"Ganna Miseyevna!" The idlers call out amiably. "Come over here and have some chicken kiev with us!"
"Scoundrels! Aren't you ashamed! Drinking vodka since early in the morning!" scolds Anna, but she goes around the edge of the veranda and up the staircase. A few representatives of the Proletariat, who have forced their way onto the veranda, stare inquisitively at the scene.
"You scoundrel! Deceiving Celia Yakovlevna, a poor Jewish woman, yet again! 'He went for some thread!' The simplehearted Celia Yakovlevna, child of another era – the angel who married my father… Celia Yakovlevna doesn't know what it is to lie! She trustingly believed that absurdity! 'For some thread, he went'!
"Fine – hit me! Give me a slap in the face!" The poet melodramatically turns his profile to his girlfriend and offers his cheek.
Gennadii Sergeevich becomes elegantly cordial.
"Pardon us, Ganna Moisyevna, for the love of God, and be kind enough to share this humble meal with us!" Genka takes Anna's hand and kisses it. Then, without releasing her hand, with his free hand he shifts the table and eases Anna into place at the table. Though she is still angry, she sits down.
"Dusya – please, set a place for Anna Moiseyevna… Anna Moiseyevna, it's my fault that your husband is here. Finding myself feeling somewhat lonely and depressed this morning, I deceitfully lured Ed away from his family, heedlessly seeking only personal and egotistical self-satisfaction…"
"The poor Jewish woman…" Anna Moiseyevna starts up her usual dramatic monologue, but provokes no reaction on the faces of Genka or the poet… "I ran right home… not a crumb in the house… 'Eduard went off to get some thread,' Mama announced, bewildered… 'He went off at nine o'clock, Mama!' I said, 'It's eleven o'clock – he went off drinking!' 'No… maybe he'll come back?' timidly suggested Celia Yakovlyevna, still believing in you…" Anna stared angrily at the poet. He bowed his head humbly, and Genka gestured to him with his eyes and his hands, "Just put up with it. Let her talk."
"You didn't even leave the poor Jewish woman a ruble for food, you scoundrel!" Anna continues, "Meanwhile, we've spent all of her pension. I don't have any money – you know perfectly well I don't get anything in advance… after the account showed a gigantic overdraft, Gennadii" – Anna appeals to Genka. Genka nods sympathetically. "There was some hope that the young scoundrel would finish Tsintsiper's pants today and get ten rubles for them, and Celia Yakovlyevna could go down to Blagovyeshchenskii market and get some food… But the young scoundrel ran off…"
"Ganna Miseyevna," says Genka quickly, while Anna gathers her strength for the next part of the monologue, "Be be good enough to accept from me a humble offering" – he takes a tenner from his wallet and pushes it toward Anna.
"We don't need your money, Gennadii Sergeyevich," proudly declares Anna, who nonetheless looks at the tenner with some interest.
"Take it, Ganna Miseyevna! After all, it was I who took Ed out into the countryside, away from Tsintsiper's pants! It follows that I should pay the forfeit."
"What?" Anna Moiseyevna stares questioningly at the poet. "Well, I'll take it… After all, we have nothing. Not so much as a crumb in the house."
"Don't you dare…" spits out the poet. He curses himself for neglecting to leave Celia Yakovlyevna at least five out of the fifteen rubles left. Now Anna has the right to lecture him on morality and call him a young scoundrel. Normally Anna's a little scared of her poet, although she's six years older than he is. And weighs perhaps twice as much as the poet.
"Take it! You'll use it somehow or other!" With the help of an agile motion, the tenner ends up in Anna Moiseyevna's hand, and, from there, disappears into her purse.
"Have a drink, Anna Moiseyevna, a little vodka!" Genka himself pours Anna a glass, out of the bottle of Stolichnaya Dusya left with them the last time. "Have a drink and forget your cares!"
Anna can no longer resist; she smiles. "Scoundrel, you've been drinking for three days! And never once thought of the poor Jewish woman, wasting away in a newspaper kiosk. You could at least have taken the time to invite the Jewish woman to the restaurant." Anna frowns and sips carefully at the vodka, unlike Genka and the poet.
"How in the world did you find us, Anna Moiseyevna?" Genka doesn't hide his pleasure and delight. He likes it when things happen. They've already gotten a bit bored, just the two of them making small talk; but now, voila, an unexpected appearance by Anna Moiseyevna.
"Genulik!" Anna looks at Genka with undisguised condescension. "Everybody knows that you and the young scoundrel are the only ones in the whole city with chocolate-colored suits with gold thread. First I went to the "Theater Club" and they told me they'd seen you this morning going down Sumsky street. I went to the "Lux," and you weren't there. You weren't at the "Three Musketeers," either. I ran around to all your hangouts, and at the "Automatic," Mark told me that the young scoundrel, accompanied by you, Gennadii Sergeevich, had gone down into Shyevchenko Park. 'Where would people like you go, at this time of the year, when Nature is unbelievably flourishing, and the chesnuts are ripe, and the smell of flowers fills the air, and the world is making love endlessly?' I asked myself. Anna Moiseyevna sighs. Elaborate oratory is her weakness. Very often she inserts in her speech verses by living or deceased poets. "'People like Genulik and the young scoundrel can only go to the "Tavern," and Dusya.' I said to myself, and came running here. Anna Moiseyevna has stopped, pleased with herself. "And here, if you please, I am. I'm not going to work!" She announces, after looking at her little watch."What's the point!" she exclaims, staring defiantly at her "husband." "I'll tell them I got sick."