Christofer himself had no need for these remedies because his wife had died thirty years before. They had been caught in a thunderstorm while gathering plants and she was killed by lightning at the edge of the forest. Christofer had stood, unable to believe his wife was dead: she had just been alive. He shook her by the shoulders and her wet hair streamed along his hands. He rubbed her cheeks. Her lips stirred silently under his fingers. Her wide-open eyes looked at the tops of the pine trees. He urged his wife to stand and come back home. She was silent. And nothing could force her to speak.
On the day he moved to his new place, Christofer took a medium-sized piece of birch bark and wrote: After all, they are already adults. After all, their child is already one year old. I am of the opinion they will be better off without me. After thinking a bit, Christofer added: most important, this is what the elder advised.
They began taking Arseny to see Christofer after he turned two. Sometimes they would leave with the child after a meal. More often, though, they would let Arseny stay for a few days. He liked being at his grandfather’s. Those visits turned out to be Arseny’s first memories. They were also destined to be the last thing he forgot.
Arseny loved the smell in his grandfather’s house. The smell was composed of the aromas of the multitude of herbs drying under the ceiling, and that smell did not exist anywhere else. Arseny also loved the peacock feathers a pilgrim had brought to Christofer. They were fanned out on the wall, and the design on the feathers was surprisingly similar to an eye. When the boy was at Christofer’s, he felt he was somehow under observation.
He also liked the icon of the martyr Saint Christopher, which hung under the Savior’s image. It looked unusual amongst the stern Russian icons: Saint Christopher had the head of a dog. The child examined the icon for hours and his grandfather’s features, little by little, began showing through the touching figure of the cynocephalus. Shaggy brows. Wrinkles extending from the nose. A beard that began at the eyes. His grandfather dissolved into nature even more readily because he spent most of his time in the forest. He began resembling dogs and bears. And plants and stumps. He spoke in a creaky, wooden voice.
Sometimes Christofer took the icon from the wall and gave it to Arseny to kiss. The child thoughtfully kissed Saint Christopher on his shaggy head and touched the dulled paints with the pads of his fingers. His grandfather observed the icon’s mysterious current flow into Arseny’s hands. One time he made the following note: the child has a special awareness. His future presents itself to me as outstanding but I have difficulty foreseeing it.
Christofer began teaching the boy about herbal treatments at the age of four. They wandered the forests from morning till night gathering various plants. They searched for the pheasant’s eye plant near ravines. Christofer showed Arseny its sharp little leaves. Pheasant’s eye helped with hernia and fever. When this plant was given for fever, along with cloves, sweat would begin streaming off the patient. If the sweat was thick and gave off a strong and nasty odor, it was necessary (Christofer stopped short, looking at Arseny) to prepare for death. The boy’s unchildish gaze made Christopher feel ill at ease.
What is death? asked Arseny.
Death is when people are silent and do not move.
Like this? Arseny sprawled on the moss and looked at Christofer, not blinking.
As he lifted the boy, Christofer said inside, my wife, his grandmother, was lying exactly like that, and that is why I was very frightened just now.
There is no reason to be afraid, shouted the boy, because I am alive again.
On one of their walks, Arseny asked Christofer where his grandmother now dwelled.
In heaven, answered Christofer.
That same day, Arseny decided to fly to the heavens. The heavens had long appealed to him and the attraction became irresistible after this announcement that his grandmother, whom he had never seen, dwelled there. Only the peacock feathers, from a bird most certainly of paradise, could help him with this.
Upon returning home, Arseny got a rope from the entry room, took the peacock feathers from the wall, and used a ladder to climb onto the roof. He divided the feathers into two equal bunches and firmly tied them to his arms. Arseny was planning a short trip to the heavens this first time. He wanted only to inhale its azure air and, if things worked out, finally see his grandmother. He could also say hello to her from Christofer while he was at it. As Arseny imagined things, he could easily return in time for supper, which Christofer just happened to be preparing. Arseny went up to the roof ridge, flapped his wings, and took a step forward.
His flight was rapid but brief. Arseny felt sharp pain in his right foot, the first to touch the ground. He could not stand and so lay silently, stretching his leg under his wings. Christofer noticed the broken peacock wings beating at the earth when he went outside to call the boy to supper. Christofer felt Arseny’s foot and knew it was fractured. He applied a plaster with ground peas to the injured place so the bone would knit together quickly. He bound a small strip of wood to the leg so it could have some rest. He took Arseny to the monastery so his spirit would strengthen along with his flesh.
I know you are planning to go to heaven, said Elder Nikandr, as soon as he saw Arseny. Forgive me, but I think your course of action is outlandish. When the time comes, I will tell you how it is done.
They began gathering plants again as soon as Arseny was able to put weight on the foot. At first they walked only in the nearby forest, then they would go further and further each day, testing Arseny’s strength. Along the banks of rivers and streams they gathered nymphaea—reddish-yellowish flowers with white leaves—to treat poisoning. Near those same rivers, they found the enchanted river plant. Christofer trained Arseny to recognize it by its yellow flower, round leaves, and white root. Horses and cows were treated with this herb. At the forest’s edge they gathered windflower, which grew only in spring. It should be pulled up on the ninth, twenty-second, and twenty-third of April. Windflower should be placed under the first log when building a log house. They also went looking for the mysterious sava. Christofer displayed caution here because encountering this plant carried the threat of muddling the mind. But (Christofer crouched down in front of the child) if this plant is placed on a thief’s tracks, the thieved item will return. He put the sava in his basket and covered it with burdock. Along the way home, they always gathered pods from the herb known as river crossing, which repelled snakes.
Put a seed in your mouth and water will part, Christofer once said.
It will part? asked Arseny, serious.
With prayer it will part. Christofer began to feel awkward. Everything is about prayer, after all.
Well, then why do you need that seed? The boy lifted his head and saw Christofer was smiling.
That is the legend. It is up to me to tell you this.
Once they saw a wolf while they were gathering plants. The wolf was standing a few steps from them, looking them in the eyes. His tongue dangled from his jaw and trembled from panting. The wolf was hot.
We will not move, said Christofer, and he will leave. O great martyr Georgy, do helpe.
He will not leave, Arseny objected. He came so he could be with us.
The boy walked up to the wolf and took him by the scruff. The wolf sat. The end of his tail stuck out from under his hind paws. Christofer leaned against a pine tree and attentively watched Arseny. When they headed for home, the wolf set off after them, his tongue still hanging like a little red flag. The wolf stopped at the border of the village.