Numerals had their own harmony, which reflected the overall harmony of the world and all that exists within it. Ustina found numerous pieces of information of that sort by reading Christofer’s manuscripts, which Arseny brought to her by the armful. A week hath seven dayes and serves as a prototype for human lyfe: the first day is a childe’s birth, the second day is for a yonge man, on the third day he is a growne man, the fourth day is for the middle of the lyfe, fifth is the day of graying, the sixth day is for old age, and the seventh day is for the ende.
The symbolism of numerals was not Christofer’s only pastime. Ustina also found records of distances among his manuscripts. From Moscow to Kiev was a thousande and a half versts, from Moscow to the Volga was 240 versts, from Beloozero to Uglich was 240 versts. Why did he write all this down? Ustina wondered as she read. Arseny responded to her in thought, saying Christofer had not, of course, been to either Moscow or Kiev or the Volga. It was possible that 240 versts, which appears twice, caught his attention in those data. The deceased attributed particular significance to coincidences like this (Arseny replied), though he did not fully grasp their meaning. What is important is that you and I already understand each other without words.
Ustina’s pregnancy was not progressing without difficulty. She complained from time to time about headaches and dizziness. In those situations, Arseny rubbed her temples with dill oil or a wild-strawberry tisane. Because of her shyness, Ustina kept quiet about certain indispositions that arose. Constipation, for example. Arseny shamed her when he noticed it, saying they were now one whole, and she must not be shy with him. He gave her a tincture of young elderberry leaves for her constipation. Together they had gathered those leaves in the spring and together they had boiled them in honey.
Ustina’s sleep was not restful. Arseny could guess when she had woken up in the middle of the night because he would not hear her breathing. Ustina breathed though her nose, loudly and evenly, when she slept. To restore her sleep, Arseny gave her an infusion of tree moss before bed.
Ustina’s body was testing the endurance of her spirit in an obvious way. Heartburn tormented her constantly. She experienced heaviness and pain in her womb, the place the baby was located. Her growing belly itched mercilessly from the touch of Arseny’s linen shirt. Ustina’s feet swelled from the burden she carried. Her facial features looked puffy. Her eyes had become sleepy. An unfamiliar absentmindedness had come into Ustina’s gaze. Those changes were noticeable to Arseny and they worried him. He saw in Ustina’s lackluster eyes the beginning of weariness from pregnancy.
The newness of her condition helped her overcome the indispositions in the first months. As time passed, her condition was no longer new. It was habitual and onerous. And then autumn came and the days grew short, as they do in the north. The gloominess cloaking the Land of the White Lakes brought out despondence in Ustina. She saw nature dying and could do nothing about it. As she watched leaves fall from the trees, Ustina also shed tears.
She was now observing the changes in her body as if from afar. It was ever harder to see her former self—flexible, quick, and strong—in this bloated, unwieldy creature. Someone had lodged that self in another’s body.
But it was not just any someone, it was Arseny. When that thought hit her, it was as if she had touched bottom, pushed off, and swum to the surface again. And here she opened herself up to all the joys that surrounded her. Ustina’s joys were more vivid than her sufferings.
She rejoiced when her appetite awoke within her, because she knew she was not eating alone but with the child. She rejoiced at the colostrum that kept appearing on her nipples. She indulged herself in impetuous fantasies about the future child and shared them with Arseny:
If a girl is born, she will grow up the prettiest in Rukina Quarter and marry a prince.
But Rukina Quarter has no princes.
Well, you know, in that case he will come here. If a boy is born, which would really be preferable, he will be light-haired and wise, like you, O Arseny.
Why do we need two who are light-haired and wise?
That is what I want, sweetheart, what is wrong with it? I see nothing wrong with it.
One day Arseny slowly ran his palm along Ustina’s belly and said:
It is a boy.
Glory to God, I am so glad. Glad about everything. Especially the boy.
Ustina usually stroked her belly while sitting on the bench. At times she could feel movements of the one sitting inside. After what Arseny said, she had no doubt it was a boy. Sometimes Arseny placed his ear against her belly.
What is he saying? asked Ustina.
He is asking you to be patient just a little longer. Until the beginning of December.
Okay, fine, since he is asking. I think even he is tired of sitting around there.
You cannot even imagine how tired he is of it.
Ustina sang to amuse the little boy:
O Mother, O Mother, Mother of God,
Mary the Blessed (Ustina made the sign of the cross over herself and her belly),
Where, O Mother, did you spend the nights?
I spent the night in the city of Salem,
In God’s church behind the throne
I slept but a little but much did I see,
As if I had given birth to the Christ Child,
I swaddled him in swaddling,
Wound him in silken sashes.
Arseny said nothing, though he thought about how her piercing voice could be heard from the road. Let her sing, he thought; after all, it will be more fun for the baby.
She sewed clothing.
It is bad luck, she said, to sew clothing for an unborn child.
But she sewed anyway. She took the material from Christofer’s things.
Sewing from the property of the dead, she said, is also not encouraged.
As she made stitch after stitch, she would sigh deeply, making her whole huge belly begin moving. Her hands created swaddling clothes and doll-sized trousers and little shirts.
She made dolls, too. She made them from rags and drew on them in various ways. Wove them from straw. The straw dolls were all identical and all resembled Ustina. She burst into tears when Arseny told her that.
Thank you (she nodded) for the compliment. Thank you very much.
Arseny embraced her:
I said it out of love, you silly fool, nobody loves you or will love you as I do, our love is a special case.
He pressed his cheek to her hair. She warily freed herself and said:
Arseny, I want to take Communion before I give birth, I am afraid to give birth without Communion.
He placed his palm to her lips:
You’ll take Communion after you’ve given birth, my love. How would you go to church now, in this condition? And after giving birth, you know, we’ll open up to everyone and show our son and take Communion and it will get easier because nothing will need to be explained to anyone when the child is here, the child will justify everything, it will be like starting life with a clean slate, do you understand?
I understand, answered Ustina. O Arseny, I am afraid.
She wept often. She tried to make it so Arseny did not see but he saw, because they were inseparable for all those months and it was difficult for her to weep in secret.