I have to boast a little, I swear comrade Ariton Jakovleski, and not just him, all the members, even some of the investigators themselves, they were all so satisfied with my answers, they listened to me agape. And when I finished, they remained frozen like that for a while, open-mouthed. They looked at me with dear, grateful eyes, as though they were saying “Thank you Leme, live long, be healthy, may good fortune always follow you in life, may you become a great man, the greatest!” I acknowledge that at that hour, my heart was not very quiet, a strong excitement overtook me, somehow I couldn’t control myself, I was forced to call out “May he live!” and some other grand things. Curse me, I felt a bit easier, the fear left me a bit. The investigators then sincerely congratulated me, shook my hand, curse me, we shook hands.
“I am so pleased, Leme,” said the dear Headmaster and offered me his hand, he squeezed so hard I just about collapsed to the floor.
I answered, more from the excitement than from politeness “Same to you, dear Headmaster.”
To this he said to me “Call me comrade, my dear young man. And now, goodbye, a great task awaits us, we’ll discuss your future further.” And, I swear, he personally opened the door for me, and I was free.
The shaken children in the hallway who were waiting in line agape, their little fish eyes frozen. No-one knew what had happened. Curse me, as carefully as I could, I winked at Kejtin; that was our making-up. Oh God, when he saw me as that puffed up, haughty pretender, the biggest pretender, liar, without thinking he burst out laughing. He knew, he knew everything, curse me. Go on and try to stop the son of Kejtin laughing.
Just then, the closed door behind me was opened all of a sudden. The dear Headmaster came out again, pale as a sheet, without a drop of blood in his face, he barely managed to strain out:
“You’re laughing, Kejtin. Is there something funny, you beast! Come in!”
I saw, I swear, he went in still laughing. Who could now stop the son of Kejtin from laughing, curse me, he would laugh like the devil, for a hundred centuries.
“Son of Kejtin,” they commanded him, “stop laughing!”
“Why are you laughing, what is funny?”
“Nothing, nothing, honestly,” says Kejtin, but an even bigger laugh came out of him.
“Isaac Kejtin, sew up your repulsive mouth,” Olivera Srezoska screamed at him insanely, “sew it, you cursed wretch!”
“I can’t,” the son of Kejtin answered sincerely. “I couldn’t if my life depended on it, Olivera Srezoska,” he added that bit on his own.
But then, Kejtin had an opportunity to see the whitened moustache of Josif on the table and now, nothing could stop him. He laughed with all of his heart. He laughed like God, curse me, like God. Comrade Olivera Srezoska couldn’t tolerate it any more, her nerves were already ripped to shreds any way, she was not able to do anything. The laughter of the son of Kejtin pierced her in the deepest part of her heart. In all of the pain she suffered, curse me, this was the peak.
“Stop, you subversive element,” mouthed comrade Olivera Srezoska, God, the whole Home was echoing, “stop you cursed beast, beast, beast! Criminal!”
Just as the son of Kejtin wanted to stop his laugh, it faded away itself. But when he looked at the monstrous face of Olivera Srezoska he doubled in half again, without wanting to, wildly, the laugh came out of him on its own. Olivera Srezoska did not control herself. She hit him with whatever was in her hand, with the inkstand with which she was writing our answers. Curse me, with the inkstand. On his face, his eyes. She pierced his face and his hands which he tried to shield his eyes with.
“Dear mother,” said the son of Kejtin, defending just his eyes. “Dear mother, I have been left without eyes,” and his laugh stopped.
They took him out with his face all bloody, pierced all over.
“Dear mother,” the son of Kejtin repeated all the same, as though he couldn’t believe what had happened to him, as though he didn’t know where he was.
They shut him in the cellar with a group of other suspect boys.
“It’s him, him and no-one else,” the voice of Olivera Srezoska could be heard, she still couldn’t calm herself.
Not then and not since have I ever been able to hate a person. I was weak and I often hit my head into the wall, often I bled because of that, but I never carried ill feeling inside me, such a repulsive burden. I could forgive anyone for anything, I swear. But for the first time, I didn’t know how to look at Olivera Srezoska, our Assistant-Headmaster of the Home.
Kejtin, my friend, I searched for him everywhere, I couldn’t find him, “Kejtin,” I think I said it aloud, but the people were applauding. They were applauding Olivera Srezoska. Curse me, “Kejtin!” I called, but no-one heard my voice. Deaf, deaf people. Curse me, I was deadly afraid of that deafness.
The water had already entered into me, I swear, it was big, the biggest. In the first moment, just like that, unexpectedly, finding myself again free, near the bank, hearing the voice of the water, not looking at the waves as though I had lost my mind, hurried toward Her, curse me, not feeling the earth falling away beneath me, not feeling that I was entering something scary, deep, from which I could not return. I didn’t hear the voice which told me to go back “Stupid boy, unfortunate boy, where have you set off for, the waves will take you away, the water will swallow you up. Go back, go back, stupid fellow! You will regret it, you’ll regret it all your life, your child’s mind is taking you into a greater evil, unfortunate boy, little Leme!” Another voice was whispering to me “How will you live without Her, Leme, you’ll be blind, crippled, unhappy. There won’t be enough room in the world for you, not the smallest spot, they’ll persecute you all the same, endlessly persecute you like a small, abandoned puppy. “Go! Go!” Oh, my weak, childish mind, my sick, unhealable soul. For the first time, I found myself facing such an unthinkable, dark ruin. My own salvation, I owe my poor life only to one man, a dear man, unhappy Trifun Trifunoski. Curse me, someone had to die.
How they were born, how the songs died
Kejtin is under lock. Curse me, under lock. The only thought I had was that Kejtin was in the cellar. I was afraid that if I didn’t do something at once that he would die, that my friend couldn’t survive that. Only one wish existed, to help him to get his freedom back. Curse me, his freedom. I swear, there was no other cure for the heart of Kejtin.
The last evening bell announced the time to go to sleep. Just as the few lights in the Home were turned off, all of the voices went silent. No dream would come at all, I was in a fever, in a confusion, I went to sleep for a little, then, as though startled, I would wake, some unfamiliar voice would wake me, would call me to wake! I listened, it was the voice of the Big Water. Curse me, after so many centuries the voice of the Big Water came back. She endlessly roared, hummed, threw up powerful waves, the whole bank echoed. Powerful waves started to splash me, to take my poor little bed, above my head, crazed birds flew. Curse me, the dream was the most frightening illness there was, the biggest.
In the morning, at the darkest dawn, I knocked on the door of Trifun Trifunoski’s room. He couldn’t sleep either, he was possessed by the noble spirit and shaking with fever, as they say in the old folk tales, a fever lasting three years. Pale, haggard, powerfully excited, pressing a little leaf between his palms, he was muttering out loud, sounding word by word. He was reciting, creating.