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‘And they both disappeared from view. Belikov changed colour from green to white and he looked stunned. He stopped, looked at me and asked, “Would you mind telling me what’s going on? Are my eyes deceiving me? Do you think it’s proper for high school teachers, for ladies, to ride bicycles?”

‘“What’s improper?” I said. “Let them cycle to their hearts’ content!”

‘“What are you saying!” he shouted, amazed at my indifference. “What do you mean?” He was so shocked he wouldn’t go any further and turned back home.

‘All next day he kept nervously rubbing his hands together and quivering, and from his face we could see he wasn’t well. He stayed away from school – for the first time in his life. And he didn’t eat any lunch. Towards evening he put some warmer clothes on, although it was a perfect summer’s day, and he plodded off to the Kovalenkos. Barbara had gone out, only her brother was home.

‘“Please take a seat,” Kovalenko muttered coldly. He was scowling and looked sleepy – he’d just been taking a nap after his meal and was in a terrible mood.

‘After sitting for ten minutes without a word, Belikov began: “I’ve come to get something off my chest. I’m deeply upset. Some comedian has produced a cartoon in which myself and another person – close to both of us – are made to look silly. I consider it my duty to assure you that in no way am I involved, that I have never given grounds for such ridicule. On the contrary I have invariably conducted myself as a person of the highest integrity.”

‘Kovalenko boiled up inside, and said nothing. Belikov waited and then continued in a soft, sad voice, “And there’s something else. I’ve been teaching for a long time, you’re only just beginning, and I consider it my duty, as a senior colleague, to give you some words of warning. You ride a bicycle: that’s a pastime which is utterly improper for a tutor of young people.”

‘“How so?” Kovalenko asked in his deep voice.

‘“Do I need to make it any clearer, Mikhail Savvich, don’t you get my meaning? If teachers start riding bicycles, what are we to expect from the pupils? That they’ll take to walking on their heads, I dare say! There’s nothing in the school rules that states it’s allowed, so that means you can’t. I was horrified yesterday! When I saw your sister, my eyes went dim. A woman or young girl on a bicycle – that’s shocking!”

‘“What exactly do you want?”

‘“Only one thing, Mikhail Savvich. To warn you. You’re a young man, with your future before you and you should watch your behaviour very carefully. You don’t obey the rules, oh, no! You wear an embroidered shirt, you’re always carrying books in the street, and now there’s the bicycle. The Head will get to hear all about your sister and yourself cycling, then the governors… That’s not very nice, is it?”

‘“If my sister and I go cycling that’s no one else’s business,” Kovalenko said, turning purple. “And if anyone starts poking his nose into my private and personal affairs I’ll tell him to go to hell!”

‘Belikov turned white and got up. “If you take that tone with me I must conclude this conversation. And I beg you never to use such expressions about the authorities in my presence. You should have some respect for authority.”

‘“Did I say anything nasty about them?” Kovalenko said, looking at him angrily. “Now, please leave me alone. I’m an honest man and I don’t want to talk to the likes of you. I hate sneaks.”

‘Belikov fidgeted nervously and hastily put his coat on. Horror was written all over his face. This was the first time anyone had been so rude to him.

‘“You’re entitled to say what you like,” he said, going out onto the landing. “But I must warn you: it’s possible someone has overheard us and in case our conversation is misinterpreted and in case there’s trouble, I shall be obliged to report the contents to the Head… the main points anyway. That is my duty.”

‘“Report it? Go ahead and report it then!”

‘Kovalenko grabbed him by the collar from behind and pushed him. Belikov slid down the stairs, his galoshes thudding as he fell. The stairs were steep and high, but he safely reached the bottom, got up and felt his nose to see if his glasses were intact. But just as he was sliding down, in had come Barbara, with two young ladies. They stood at the bottom and watched him: this was the end. He would rather have broken his neck or both legs than become such a laughing-stock, I do believe. Now it would be all over town, and the Head and the governors would get to hear… oh, now there would be trouble – there’d be a new cartoon and he would finish up having to resign…

‘Barbara recognized him when he was on his feet, and when she saw his ridiculous expression, his crumpled coat, his galoshes, she didn’t understand what had happened – she thought he had fallen down the stairs accidentally – she couldn’t stop herself breaking into fits of loud laughter that could be heard all over the house.

‘And these echoing peals of laughter marked the end of everything: of the courtship and Belikov’s earthly existence. He couldn’t hear what Barbara was saying, he saw nothing. As soon as he got home he removed her portrait from the table. Then he lay down, never to rise again.

‘Three days later Afanasy came and asked me if we should send for the doctor, as “something was wrong with the master”. I went to see Belikov. He was lying in his curtained bed, with a blanket over him and he didn’t speak. He just replied “yes” or “no” to any question, saying nothing else. While he lay there, Afanasy (looking gloomy, frowning and sighing deeply) fussed round him, reeking of vodka.

‘A month later Belikov died. All of us went to the funeral – that is, everyone from the two schools and the theological college. Then, as he lay in his coffin, his face looked gentle and pleasant – even cheerful – just as if he were rejoicing that at last he had found a container from which he would never emerge. Yes, he had achieved his ideal! The weather had turned wet and miserable – in his honour it seemed – and we all wore galoshes and carried umbrellas. Barbara was with us and she burst into tears when the coffin was lowered. I’ve noticed that Ukrainian women can only cry or laugh, there’s no happy medium.

‘I must confess burying a man like Belikov was a great pleasure. On the way back from the cemetery we all assumed modest, pious expressions, no one wanted to betray the pleasure he felt. It was the same feeling we had long, long ago when our parents went out and we would run round the garden for an hour or so, revelling in perfect freedom. Freedom, oh freedom! Doesn’t the slightest hint, the faintest hope of its possibility lend wings to the soul?

‘We were all in an excellent mood when we returned from the cemetery. However, hardly a week passed and we were in the same old rut again. Life was just as harsh, tiring and senseless, not exactly prohibited by the school rules, but not really allowed either. Things didn’t improve. Belikov was indeed dead and buried, but how many of these encapsulated men are still left, and how many are yet to come!’

‘Yes, that’s just my point!’ Ivan Ivanych said, lighting his pipe.

The teacher came out of the barn. He was short, plump, completely bald, with a black beard that nearly reached his waist. He had two dogs with him.

‘Just look at that moon!’ he said, looking up.

It was already midnight. To his right, the whole village could be clearly seen, with the long road stretching into the distance for about three miles. Everything was buried in a deep, peaceful slumber. Not a sound or movement anywhere and it was hard to believe that nature could be so silent. When you see a broad village street on a moonlit night, its huts, hayricks and sleeping willows, your heart is filled with tranquillity and finds sanctuary from its toil, worries and sorrows in this calm and in the shadows of night. It becomes gentle, sad and beautiful, and it seems that the very stars are looking down on it with love and tenderness, that all evil has vanished from the world and that happiness is everywhere. To the left, at the edge of the village, the open fields began; they could be seen stretching into the distance, right up to the horizon, and over all that vast moonlit expanse there was neither movement nor sound.