©Alex
The Gavrilov family had always had many pets. It came from Mama, who as a child led stray dogs on an elastic strap tied to her pants. Now Mama pretended that she could not stand animals, that they only forced themselves on her, but for all that, she never prevented the children from acquiring new animals.
This was Mama’s tactic. First, she would say, “Oh, what a cute behemoth!” Then she would encourage Kate to bring the behemoth home on the cord for keys, but later, when the behemoth smashed something, would grumble that she was not the one who had acquired the behemoth and that she was against it.
They considered most of the animals to be Kate’s. They said “Kate’s rats,” “Kate’s guinea pig,” “Kate’s turtle.” This was advantageous; the rest could whine that Kate has rats and a turtle but I have nothing… Not fair! Let us get another forty duplicate rats and turtles, but they will already not be Kate’s but mine! And each turtle, of course, will remember who owns it and perhaps even wear an engraved photo of the owner on its shell at its heart.
One morning, Mama was bathing Rita and Costa, but Alex ran in and threw rubber slippers into the bath. Then he tried to fill the tub with vinegar to check whether Rita and Costa would dissolve.
Papa set Alex on a chair to think over his behaviour and went off himself to finish a story. Alex sat on the chair and whined. Then he began to move the chair on the wooden floor, making horrible sounds. Papa endured these sounds for about five minutes. Then he came out and said sternly, “Have you thought it over?”
“I have.”
“And what do you think? What was your behaviour?”
“Bad.”
“And what are your conclusions?”
Alex snuffled. He did not seem to have any conclusions.
“Conclude that you won’t do it anymore! Agree?”
Alex agreed with this answer and Papa, with relief, handed him over to Kate and Vicky, who were just about to go for a walk. “Only hold his hands and cross the street on a green light!”
“Can’t on green!” Alex instantly declared.
“Why?”
“What lights do cars go on? Green! So, people should go on red!”
“Cars go on their own green, and people have red at this time.”
“What if people think that the green for cars is their green? And the cars think that their red is red for people?” Alex, who loved strict consistency in everything, specified.
Papa was utterly confused, because he remembered that there is even the green arrow, on which the cars turn, and that some cars do not let pedestrians pass, and he was instantly quite uncertain how to explain. “You know, you just hold your sisters’ hands and do as they do!” he said.
Alex held hands with Kate and Vicky and they set off wandering around the city. The three stray dogs living on Vine Street – Stool, Lad, and Tot – stuck with them. Stool was a very long dog on short legs. It was so long that sometimes it was as if all the dachshunds in the world had united in it. Tot was medium-sized and off-white, and Lad was a shaggy calf which barked in a bass. Trying to persuade the dogs not to accompany them, Kate and Vicky stamped their feet and threw dirt at them, but the dogs pretended that they noticed nothing and still stayed with them.
Usually, Stool, Lad, and Tot sat on Vine Street and rarely left it, because the city was divided between rival clans of dogs, which could bite off the ears of strange dogs. But when one of the children went into the city, Stool, Lad, and Tot decided, “Our pack is going hunting, now there are many of us, we are cool,” and set off following. They ran across the road, barked at cars, got into fights with strange dogs, and, although they did not belong to the children, there would be shouts at them from all directions, “Restrain your mutts!”
Today everything ended when Lad carried off a herring from the scale of a market seller and, fleeing from pursuit, darted across the road. Behind Lad, tails tucked under them, ran Stool and Tot. Alex wanted to follow them, but Kate and Vicky would not let go of his hands.
“Calm down! Keep walking as if nothing happened!” Kate said, quickly dragging Alex around the corner. Peering out from behind the corner, she was relieved to see that the seller was laughing and seemed ready to forgive Lad for the herring.
“This is stupid! There was no need to bring these dogs with us!” Vicky said.
“We brought them? By the way, I threw dirt at them! Now I have dirty nails!” Kate retorted.
They still knew the city poorly but were getting better every day. The tramlines divided it into two parts – the holiday resort part and the non-resort part. They lived in the non-resort part. All the main streets retained their former names: Krupskaya,[11] Dmitrii Ulyanov,[12] International, and Sixtieth Anniversary of October. Between the infinite Ulyanov relatives and other Marxes ran many alleys and streets – Peach, Cottage, Apple, Cherry, Free, and Seaside.
Peter was the first to come up with how to navigate the city. “If there are tracks, it’s close to the sea! That’s one! If the street is called some sort of October or Lenin Avenue, it’s a main street. Go along it and get to a familiar place! That’s two. Don’t turn onto small streets. Carry a phone. That’s three!”
Now Kate and Vicky went first along a main street, then turned onto a secondary street named after a famous Ukrainian poet, and suddenly saw a pet store. It was a very big pet store. It occupied the entire first floor of a small three-storey building.
Kate was the first to run bravely into the pet store; Alex and Vicky carefully trickled in after her. Alex immediately grabbed Vicky’s hand. To his surprise, it seemed to him that he had found himself in a jungle or in the tropics. Hundreds of parrots were squawking in cages, thousands of fish were swimming in aquariums, hamsters were turning their wheels, jerboas were burying themselves in sawdust, and a big metre-long python was sitting in a huge terrarium in the corner. And all these among the many potted plants. Kate immediately went astray among the cages, and Alex, letting go of Vicky’s hand, also disappeared somewhere after her.
A minute later someone was heard shouting, “Kid, do you understand Russian? Hey, kid! Don’t touch the gnome!”
A girl immediately brought Alex out by the hand. She wore glasses, had on a robe and a homemade apron of medical oilcloth, and was, in Vicky’s opinion, already advanced in years. The girl was about twenty years old. In appearance, this was the sternest girl in the world, short hair, determined, with a voice cutting like a scalpel. She could easily be trusted to command the army. In her right hand dangled a mutilated hamster, which she casually held by a hind paw, swinging it from side to side, and she was holding Alex by his collar in her other hand.
“Is this your brother?”
Vicky looked attentively, and even with some suspicion, at Alex and acknowledged her brother.
“He touched a gnome! Shoved his hands right into the mouth!” the girl said accusingly.
“And a gnome is…?” Vicky started carefully, trying to understand what kind of animal this gnome was.
“A gnome is a gnome! And in the gnome display!” the girl finished and handed Alex over to Vicky with the demand to either tape his hands together or take him away from the store.
Vicky took Alex’s hand and together they made their way along the wall to the exit. Kate had disappeared somewhere in the bowels of the store. The routes of her movements could be tracked by the squawks of the parrots and the squeaks of the rodents. However, the girl in the robe for some reason did not interfere with Kate, evidently sensing a kindred spirit.
Vicky was already almost at the exit when Alex suddenly sat down and pulled her down. Between two wooden tubs, Vicky saw an aquarium like a jar with a heater. Three tiny white mice with black spots on their backs were sitting on sand in the aquarium. The largest of them could fully settle on a tablespoon. The mice were sitting and washing with their paws.
Watching them washing, Vicky experienced off-the-scale affinity. She just wanted to have them. Time disappeared. Vicky looked at the mice, and
the mice were washing quietly and very thoroughly. One of them was significantly fatter than the rest. Evidently it was expecting.
Alex took advantage of the distraction and ran away. Vicky remembered him only after hearing the shout, “This hyperactive kid again! Don’t get to the spiders! They’re poisonous! I already asked to watch him!”
The stern girl again appeared nearby, firmly holding Alex by his collar. Discovering Vicky by the aquarium with mice, the girl frowned slightly. In her left hand was no longer a dead hamster but a live rabbit, which she was carrying by the ears. “What do you want here?”
“I’m looking. Can I buy these?” Vicky tried feverishly to remember how much money she had in her piggybank. In any case, there should be enough for the mice. The cage, drinking bowl, and everything else she could take from Kate.
“They’re not for sale! These are Japanese mice! They’re for the snakes!” the girl cut her off and shook the rabbit. The rabbit tried to kick her with its hind legs, but she let it hang down by the ears and deftly grasped it under the belly.
“What do you mean, for the snakes?”
“For the snakes! We feed them to the snakes!” the girl replied with irritation.
Kate jumped out from somewhere and quickly considered the situation carefully. “You’ll feed this one to the snakes? It’s pregnant!”
The girl squatted and looked at the aquarium in a business-like manner. “Indeed, pregnant! No, I won’t with this one. Too big. I’ll wait until it gives birth. Then feed its babies.”
Vicky issued the sound “ah-h-h!” on a breath and was about to faint, but there was nowhere in the tightly packed store for fainting and she just turned pale.
“Stop whimpering! Can’t you feed the snakes something else?! Some sausage?” Kate, who could only be made to faint with a shovel, asked matter-of-factly.
“Impossible! They’ll croak. Snakes are expensive, sell two in a month and you already make a profit! If you want, buy all the snakes from the owner and feed them sausages! That’s it, go away!” the girl said, displeased, and pushed them out of the store.
“You’re bad! A very bad, stupid fool! I’ll blast you with soda!” Alex shouted.
“Go, go, hyperactive! Watch your step, or you’ll fall!” the girl barked and returned to the store. She stood with her arms crossed at her chest and looked at them through the storefront.
Kate and Vicky dragged a resisting Alex with them. Vicky was crying. Kate cursed the girl as a moron. They had already walked halfway down the street when someone hailed them. An unknown guy caught up with them on a bike. “Hey, people, wait! Hold on! This is for you!”
“For us?”
“You’re two girls and a squirt in a blue shirt?”
“That’s us. What’s for us?” Kate asked in a business-like manner.
“Here! Ordered you to open the lid on the way so they don’t suffocate! Cover the top with a hand or they’ll jump out!” The guy gave something to Vicky and left.
Vicky followed the bike with frightened eyes and only then looked at what she was holding: a jar, a half-litre jar with a white lid. There was a small opening in the lid. Obviously someone had poked it with a knife but did not cut through, not having enough time. Vicky held the jar up a little higher. In the jar were…
“Mice! Mice!” Alex shouted.
“Shut up, squirt in a blue shirt!” Kate said.
Very satisfied, they returned home. Vicky pressed the jar to her chest, and the squirt in a blue shirt was jumping up and down trying to look inside.
So, the Japanese mice settled in the house on Vine Street. In the beginning, there were three. Then there were six, then twelve, then Kate and Vicky even started giving the babies away at school or selling them through the newspaper, but they always found out beforehand whether the person buying them had snakes at home.
Chapter Eight
The Deepest Pit in the World
Women should be teased regularly so that their character does not spoil. If a woman is not teased for a long time, she will put on airs, start to listen to herself, believe herself, and become haughty and boring.
©Peter
The Gavrilovs, tired of Moscow, tried to go to the sea every day. All their neighbours – both Aunt Klava with the geese and Uncle Vova feeding the dogs and spending time on grapevines and tomatoes – looked at them as at the deranged.
Among the locals there even existed the sport of boasting who had not been to the sea for how long. Uncle Vova maintained that he had not been to the sea for ten years, because “he does not need it very much.” Aunt Klava remembered that the last time she swam was last year, when they went to the estuary for a barbecue.
However, the old man Abramtsev, who lived at the beginning of the street, beat Uncle Vova and Aunt Klava. According to his assertion, he had not swum for about forty years, because in his childhood, the sea was like clear tears and the sandy beaches were so long that by the time you reached the water, your legs were tired. Now they dumped slag into the sea, the sand was washed away from the beaches, and they were gradually building the devil knows what, therefore Abramtsev sat at home and watched soap operas.
Nevertheless, it was all the same to the big family. Every day around noon, when the early-rising Papa stopped working, or more exactly, when all the children started to make a noise so that Papa had to stop working, they all left home and went to the sea.
So it was that May morning. Rita sat in the stroller. Costa stood behind on the baggage rack, leaning his elbows on the handle of the stroller. Alex sometimes stayed with him and sometimes ran off to see if Stool, Lad, and Tot stuck with them. The other children had already gone off by themselves.
After about forty minutes with all the endless stops, close examinations of bugs, and “Oh! I left my swimsuit at home!” or “Where’s the bag with the towels? I think I forgot it when I got my swimsuit!” they reached the sea. Here Mama, who had not slept at night because Costa had had an earache, collapsed on a mat and warned them not to pester her. Papa went to swim in the cold water, came out blue, and said that this was the resource of health and he felt fit. The rest refrained from this resource of health.
Alex, after soaking his shorts, went waist-deep into the water looking for crabs. He found a dead one and pried it open with a nail to figure out how a crab was arranged. “Papa!” he said importantly. “A crab isn’t arranged in any way! It has no heart, no lungs, no internal organs! I didn’t find them. It only has meat and yellow gunk!”
Peter, after putting on dark glasses like a Mafioso, stood on the shore and looked indifferently into the distance, occasionally spitting into the water or throwing stones. In Peter’s mind, everyone who passed by should now look at him and think, “How cool! What an imposing young man!”
The remaining six children hardly worried about how they looked from the outside. They ran along the beach with loud screams, occasionally fishing Rita out of the water. Rita purposefully ran into the sea and to the depths. Alena and Kate pulled her out by her arms and legs and promptly unloaded her on the sand. Rita got up decisively, shook off, and ran to the sea again. Finally, Alena and Kate lost patience and dragged Rita to Papa.
“Here, take your daughter! She’s so stubborn! I was never like this!” Kate declared.
“Indeed! Remember how you wanted a lollipop in the subway? And how the woman on duty calmed you on the escalator?”
Kate blushed. “Those were errors of youth,” she said, inadvertently releasing Rita’s leg.
Rita immediately jumped up and rushed to the sea. At the same time, she looked around and laughed loudly, showing that she knew perfectly well that they would now run after her. But Papa did not run after her. He issued an amazed sound and quickly began to dig the sand with his hands. “Kate, look! Don’t show Rita! Here’s pirate treasure!”
Rita, having already reached the water, looked around. Papa and Kate were digging in the sand. Rita watched them incredulously from afar. On her face was written, “Ha, I know y
ou! You want to lure me!”
But Papa and Kate did not even look at her but were digging in the sand with four hands. Then Alena also joined them. She dug like a dog throwing sand out with its two front paws. That is, of course, with her two hands, not paws. Then Papa shoved his hand, squeezed into a fist, into the pit, pulled it out, opened his fingers, and Rita saw candy in his palm.
TREASURE!!!!
All doubts instantly disappeared. Rita rushed to Papa and, grabbing a scoop, took the most active part in the treasure hunt. Very soon, Alex and Costa joined them with the shout “Diiiiig!” The longer they searched, the more candy they found. However, for some reason, no one was surprised that candy only appeared when Papa’s hand turned up in the pit.
Kate, Vicky, and Alena certainly knew that there was no treasure there but dug with no less passion. Kate and Alena dug with their hands and Vicky with a piece of roofing tile from a beach shed. Every now and then, Vicky checked whether sand had gotten under her nails and, after putting aside the tile, cleaned her nails with the edge of a piece of paper.
Peter alone was not digging. He was walking nearby, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He looked occasionally into the pit and it became apparent that he also wanted to dig. But then it occurred to Peter that it would not be sufficiently imposing, and he controlled himself and turned away.
Gradually they started to come across less candy, and then Alex dug out a crumpled piece of paper on which was written in crooked letters: NO MoRe CanDY. YouR TreASurE.
“What’s written here?” Alex asked greedily.
“Read it yourself! I don’t know!” Papa said.
“I can’t read!”
“Well, then you’ll never find out what they wrote to you!”
After being tormented for about five minutes, Alex managed the text after all and, on understanding the contents of the note, called it stupid.
“Why is it stupid?” Alena was surprised.
Mutiny of the Little Sweeties Page 6