“That’s what’s so funny.”
V clutched his head.
“I’m in the deepest despair—and all she can do is laugh! What’s going to happen to my little girl? My little Lelusya, my darling little Lelusya!”
“But your little girl’s safe in her village. She’s out of harm’s way. What are you getting so upset about?”
“I’m so lonely, so terribly lonely! Like a d-d-d-o…”
“Please stop talking about that dog—you’ll just set yourself off again.”
“Oh please, please come with me on the Shilka! I’ve got two passes—one for myself and one for my wife. We can say you’re my wife. Please! I can’t be on my own any longer. I’ll go mad.”
“Are you telling me the Shilka is sailing tonight?”
“Yes, around eleven. That’s what I’ve been told.”
“All right. We’ll go together.”
“Oh I’m so glad! Is this your soup? I’ll have it myself. Heavens! We might end up starving to death! Now I’ll go and get a cab. My cases are here—I’ve been carrying them around with me all day. You stay where you are! I won’t be a moment!”
This time it seemed I really was going to get away. V’s suitcases were here in the lobby. Even if he forgot about me, he wouldn’t forget his cases.
I decided to go upstairs and speak to the young lady who’d been sharing her plans with me. I needed to tell her I’d soon be leaving.
I went upstairs and walked down the dark corridor, scuffing up scraps of paper and getting tangled in pieces of string, knocking on doors and calling out, “It’s me! I’m leaving!”
There was no reply. Either they didn’t believe it was really me or else they’d left the hotel and found somewhere else to hide out, leaving me to confront Odessa’s brigands alone.
I went back downstairs.
V was already waiting for me, afraid that I’d somehow disappeared. He was terrified of being left on his own.
“Well, let’s go.”
We drove along the dark streets to the harbor.
We heard the odd shot somewhere nearby; in the distance, though, the gunfire sounded more serious.
We got down to the sea. There she was—the Shilka. There were lights moving about the deck. Did this mean there were people on board?
We drove closer.
The harbor was full of people, trunks, bundles, and suitcases. Gangplanks had been put in place. Up on the bridge I could see the white cap of a naval officer.
“Quick! Quick!” said V, hurrying me along. “Before all the places are taken. Don’t fall behind! I’m afraid of being on my own!”
How lucky I was that V had suddenly developed this particular neurosis. Otherwise, I’d never have left Odessa.
“Come on! Come on!”[97]
17
A STRANGE ship.
And no sign of electricity either—everything was in darkness.
The subdued sound of the passengers’ voices as they moved slowly up the gangplank. The Shilka was evidently not carrying cargo—her waterline was far above the water and the gangplank was at a steep angle.
No sense of commotion, no hysteria. Everyone was quietly alert. Exchanging businesslike whispers. Only now and again did I hear a louder voice:
“Is General M present?”
“Present.”
“Warrant Officer R? We need the warrant officer.”
“Present!”
And again only the murmuring of the passengers. A warm, dark night. The very faintest of drizzles. Along with everyone else, I slowly made my way up to the deck. There wasn’t even anyone checking our passes.
“Let’s see if we can get to the cabins,” said V. “The weather looks like it will turn nasty.”
But it was impossible to get through—there were already too many people.
“I wonder how we’ll manage to get underway?” I ventured. “There’s not a sound from the engines.”
“Maybe they’ll get them working soon. We most certainly can’t stay where we are! Listen! Can you hear the gunfire? That’s Ataman Grigoriev[99]—I’ve heard he’s almost taken the freight station. He and his men will probably be here before morning.”
The steamer was getting more and more densely packed. It was already difficult to move about the deck.
“Wait here,” said V. “I’ll see if I can get through the crowd.”
I went over to the side and looked out at the sea.
The sea, our new road into the unknown, was quiet, dark and calm. There was a smell of wet rope. Lights were glittering out in the bay, where large, serious, and important ships full of important and well-informed persons were exchanging mysterious signals. They were preparing themselves for a long journey, out into open seas, toward peaceful shores.
“We’re done for,” murmured someone beside me. “If they can’t find a tug to pull us out into the roadstead, it’ll be the end of us. Time to say our prayers.”
“Ba-ba-boom!” replied the freight station.
“Look! The whole sky’s lit up.”
“I hear the looting’s already started.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!”
And then someone began softly singing. A beautiful female voice. I looked down. Perched on a suitcase, one leg swung over the other, was a smartly dressed young lady. She was pensively singing a gypsy romance:
The young woman was singing!
“How can you?” someone asked in astonishment. “At a time like this?”
“I’ve had enough of all this. I might as well sing as do anything else.”
“I can see you haven’t known much suffering yet.”
“I’d say I’ve known my share. Our house in the country was burned down, my brother disappeared without a trace… We only just managed to get away ourselves.”
“So you’re a landowner, are you?”
“Me? I’m still a student.”
Turning her face toward the quiet sea, she went back to her romance:
She was sitting on a suitcase, one leg over the other, and gently swinging her foot. On it was a bright summer shoe. She was in a world of her own.
Beside me someone was chewing on some bread, letting out sounds that might have been sighs or might have been hiccups. And a small pot-bellied gentleman was timidly asking, “Excuse me, are you Madame Teffi? Excuse me, I’m Berkin. I’ve seen you in the city a few times. Perhaps you could advise me. I don’t know whether to stay on board or go back into Odessa.”
And then, in a whisper: “I have a considerable sum of money on me. Can you guarantee that no Bolsheviks have managed to get on board?”
“How would I know? All I can say is—I’m staying on board myself.”
“True, but maybe you’re not risking anything. While I, as I’ve already told you, am risking a great deal… Please excuse my shivering. I’m wearing a jersey—all this shivering, please excuse me, is because I’m afraid… So, you’re advising me to stay on board? Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you say!”
“But how can I take on such a responsibility?”
“But I’m begging you!”
I looked at him. His entire face was quivering; the corners of his mouth were turned down. Was this man crying?
“I think you should stay on board. It’s safer. Besides, how are you going to get back into Odessa now? It’s dark, the streets are deserted—you’ll be robbed.”
97
The engineer “V” was in reality Alexander Otsup, see note 85. He and Teffi remained close friends until his death. In a letter to Teffi (February 5, 1948) he refers to their meetings in Kiev in late 1918—in particular to Teffi’s bout of Spanish influenza—and to this last day in Odessa. For the most part, his account tallies with Teffi’s. http://kfinkelshteyn.narod.ru/Literat/O_Sergee_Gornom.htm#prim30.
99
“Ataman” Nikifor Grigoriev (1885–1919) had earlier fought on the side of Petlyura and the Directorate, but by 1919 he had allied with the Bolsheviks. He captured Odessa only a few days after the French evacuation.