When she returned to the living room and set the tray of food on a side table by the sofa, she had lost interest in the young people’s chatter. She seemed to be distracted by something, and looked a little distressed. Her head bent and her eyes welling with tears, she settled next to Kulik, and said to him, “What do you say, young man, will I see my Lonia again? Sergei’s probably mentioned him to you.”
“That’s your son, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ll see him again, and soon.”
“Yes, soon.” She wrung her hands. “He’s my only son. So, you really think I’ll see him again?”
Valentyn, who stood by the window smoking a pipe, remarked, “Lonia is studying engineering in Lvov. But now that war’s broken out … there’s so much uncertainty everywhere … We’ve been waiting to hear from him … But …”
His voice suddenly broke off and he began to examine his hands; first looking at his thumbs, then his index fingers, then his palms. “My hands,” he said, “how would we ever have got by without them? They’ve done everything. If not for these hands, Lonia would never have gone to university. Marusia would not have had tutors. That’s how precious my hands are!”
“My old man’s a cabinet maker,” Efrosinia volunteered. “His hands are truly made of gold, or at least they used to be. Now, as you can see, they’re gnarled and arthritic. They’re certainly not what they used to be.” Then working herself up again, “He can’t even repair the sofa. And now, to make matters worse, he’s gone deaf. He doesn’t hear a word I say.”
“Oh, Mother, please!” Marusia cut in. “What a thing to say, and in front of guests!”
“Tell me, Pan Bohdanovich.” Kulik quickly turned to the old man to ward off another scene. “What sort of things did you build?”
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that. But mostly coffins.”
As the old man spoke, his eyes twinkled and his chest puffed up. “The summer before the war, business boomed. In that one summer alone, more people died than at any other time, and not just your average citizens, but dignitaries as well. First the representative for urban affairs died, then the assistant to the director of public works, then the district representative. They all dropped like flies. And when our distinguished mayor died, I built him the most exquisite coffin and out of the best ebony I could find. I even made carvings of birds and leaves along the edges, as requested by his widow. I built almost all the coffins in Pinsk. No one in this town is or was capable of building a better coffin than I. And that’s the truth. I selected the finest wood, I measured my corners with the greatest precision, I sanded down the boards until they were as smooth as silk. I also built in elevated headrests to ensure the corpses were propped up for suitable viewing. I must say, the mortician did a fine job on the district representative’s head, but without my headrest, everything would have gone to waste. You see how precious my hands are!”
“Father!” Marusia’s face flushed a deep crimson. “Must you go on?”
Valentyn glared at his daughter. “Are you ashamed of my trade? Didn’t I provide you with all the comforts of life? Would you be wearing that pretty satin dress or those Italian pumps if not for those coffins?”
The girl tightened her lips.
Valentyn went on. “Yes, my hands have created wonders. And the police commissioner who drowned in the Karalyn River, who do you think built his coffin? I made him a palatial resting spot for all eternity, and his widow showed her appreciation by paying me one hundred zlotys. The commissioner looked like a general! No, a king! He had a funeral like no other. Why, practically the whole of Pinsk came. Oh, what wonderful hands I have!”
Efrosinia frowned. “Don’t get too carried away, old man. What was, has already happened. Bragging won’t bring our Lonia back.” She told Kulik, “I write Lonia regularly but he doesn’t answer my letters, and he doesn’t come home either. Day in and day out I sit by the window and watch for him. And now just yesterday I found out that Lonia is ill and in hospital, with consumption. Oh, this is a mother’s curse! What am I to do? What am I to do?” Clutching her head, she burst into tears. “What bitter agony! Is my Lonia suffering? Is he even conscious? My poor baby!”
In her anguish and grief, she was not aware that she had begun speaking Ukrainian, clearly and concisely, without a single Russian word. “How brilliantly he studied at the gymnasium. He even received a medal of excellence for having the highest grade in his final year. Then he left for Lvov to study at the university …” She reached for Kulik’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “He’s about your age and so full of promise. And he’s about your size too, only his hair is fair like Marusia’s and his eyes are blue. Marusia was our second-born. We only have two children.”
“We had two others,” Valentyn corrected her, “but sadly they died. One day they were with us and the next day they were gone. A boy and a girl. They died of consumption. As I built their little coffins, I wept and kissed each board.”
Efrosinia snapped at him. “Have you no shame, old man? You even use the death of our children to go on about your damned coffins.” Throwing up her arms and swallowing her tears, she stormed out of the room.
A quiet tension settled over the room. Valentyn turned apologetically to his visitors. “As you can see, my Efrosinia is on the excitable side. It’s now nine-thirty. She always does this sort of thing around this time. In about an hour she’ll settle down and go off to bed. Then at last we’ll have some peace and quiet.”
Looking at his nephew, he said almost cheerfully, “And what about you, Sergei? I understand you’ve become a teacher. Not too long ago you were a pupil yourself and now you teach. A noble profession, I admit, but why don’t you consider something more stimulating, like engineering, like our Lonia?”
“One day I still might, Uncle, but for now I want to teach. Everything has its time and place.”
When the clock struck ten-thirty, Valentyn tiptoed to the door and poked his head into the hallway. “Didn’t I tell you? Just as I predicted, Efrosinia is sound asleep. The more she hollers and screams, the better she sleeps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll retreat into the kitchen and finish reading my newspaper.”
When Valentyn closed the door behind him, the young people began to chat. All were in high spirits, and even Marusia laughed from time to time.
In the quiet kitchen, Valentyn was finally able to relax. He settled comfortably in an armchair by the tile stove and put his feet up. Taking a deep breath and striking a match to light his pipe, he reflected on the events of the day. How wonderful it was to see his nephew again and how nice that he should bring along a friend. True, his wife had been a nuisance, but now at least she was fast asleep. Why, he thought, he could probably dance the hopak and howl at the top of his lungs and it wouldn’t wake her.
Suddenly he heard a loud thump, then a heavy knock against the wall. Someone was standing on the other side of the door, turning the knob vigorously. The door banged open, and to his horror in flew Efrosinia.
“I see you’ve found the perfect spot for yourself, like a lazy old cat.” She waved her fists, and by the look on her face, it was clear she was really going to let him have it. “There’s a vicious frost outside and all you can do is sit by the fire and warm those brittle old bones of yours. That’s what you do best, sit and relax, day in and day out, not a care in the world. And that unsightly beard of yours, you still haven’t shaved it off! And what about Lonia? Well, I’m here to tell you how it’s going to be. After tossing and turning in bed, I’ve come to a decision. Somehow I’m going to scrape together the money to buy a train ticket and I’m going to send you off to Lvov. You’ll bring our son home once and for all. And I’m warning you, don’t try and get out of it, because I won’t rest until I see Lonia.”