“That’s him! That’s the culprit I wrote you about! That’s Ohrimko Suchok!”
The children watched her with confused delight, chattering loudly and poking each other. Laughter broke out. One little boy fell off his seat and started to cry, while another sent a slate flying across the room. The class was now in complete uproar.
“Comrade Haya!” Sobakin, stamped his foot in a show of outrage. “Please, collect yourself and get on with your lesson.” Then turning sternly to the pupils, “Quiet! Quiet in the class!”
Taking long, deep breaths, the more Haya tried to calm herself, the more shaken up she became. The children had now gone completely wild and there was no way to calm them.
“Children! Children!” She clapped her hands, trying desperately to restore order. “We are now going to review the alphabet. Repeat after me, A B …” Trembling and gasping, suddenly she broke off. Tears gushed down her cheeks, and she wanted only to escape from the room. Then to her great relief, the bell rang. It was recess. She was saved. The children quickly gathered their belongings, formed a line against the wall, and exited the room.
Leyzarov turned to Haya seriously.
“Comrade Haya, I would like to talk to you. We’re here today because we have a deposition from you. In it you accuse the headmaster of subversive activity and anti-Semitism. You claim he promotes these sentiments in both the school and throughout the village. Is that not correct?”
“Yes,” she squeaked out.
“Do you have proof of your charges?”
“Yes.”
She started to revive. Her voice became stronger, more self-assured. “Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. The children harass me on the street and in the school. They call me beanpole and hurl snowballs at me. Several weeks ago they drew crosses across the classroom floor with chalk to scare me and mock me. They wanted to see if I, a Jewess, would dare touch one with my foot.”
Then breaking down, she began to cry. “The feelings of anti-Semitism are deep-rooted here, no doubt about it, and Comrade Kulik does nothing to smooth them out. On the contrary, the children are not only being encouraged to hate Jews, but they’re being taught acts of subversion.”
“Tell me, Haya,” Sobakin said sharply, “these children who harass you, are they from your class or from the higher grades too? Now let me see. What about this Ohrimko Suchok? I believe he’s a second grader?”
“Yes, and he’s the worst of them all. I wrote to you about him. He’s cunning and deceitful and doesn’t obey any rules. He’s like a wild animal. He sits right over there!”
Sobakin smiled condescendingly. “Your charges are certainly reasons for concern, but it appears to me the real problem lies not in the children, but in your inability to control them. You’re the teacher and therefore you and not the headmaster are responsible for your pupils. From what I see of the situation, you haven’t established any kind of rapport with the children. To put it simply, you’ve failed to earn their respect.”
Haya’s eyes bulged and she shot back hotly, “If I’m responsible for my class, then why did our good headmaster Kulik interfere with my instruction and appoint Ohrimko Suchok class chief? How is it, I ask, that the most unruly pupil in the entire school suddenly attains the most honorable and entrusted position? What have you to say about that?”
Kulik had been standing near the door. Haya had just launched a most dangerous assault against him and he knew he had to move quickly to defend himself. He hastily stepped before the officials.
“Allow me to straighten this matter out, comrades. In the first place, I’m not a subversive of any kind or an anti-Semite, for that matter. The very notion is absurd and repulsive to me. As you can see for yourselves, everything in the school is run and has been run in strict conformity with Soviet policy. Haya Sruleyevna is at odds with me for making the worst pupil in the entire school chief of his class. Perhaps I acted in haste, I admit, but since the boy responded to no measure of discipline, I decided to run a sort of experiment — one of positive reinforcement, so to speak, one that would encourage him to attain a higher level of importance and self-esteem. And if I may say so myself, it’s been a great success.” Then turning to Haya, looking directly at her, “Tell me, honestly, Comrade Haya, after the incident with the crosses, did Ohrimko’s behavior worsen or improve? Why, wasn’t it just yesterday that you came into my office with only good things to say about him?”
Haya turned white and stammered. “I … uh … I …”
Yeliseyenko tapped his foot impatiently. “Well? We’re waiting for an answer. What have you got to say to this?”
Glancing helplessly and frantically about the room, looking pleadingly at the officials, she broke down completely. “Oh, it’s true, the problem is not Ohrimko, at least not any more. The real truth is it’s horrible here and I hate it. Please, comrades, I beg you, get me out of here, transfer me to another school, one closer to Moscow. I can’t bear it anymore. Ohrimko did improve, in fact he’s even become a good student and a good influence on the others, but still, it’s not enough. I implore you, send me to a Russian school. I feel so cooped up here. No one, including the villagers, understands a word I say and I don’t understand them.”
Yeliseyenko patted her gently on the shoulder. “All right, Haya, we’ll take your concerns into account when we investigate this matter further. But you must collect yourself, please. You’ll be hearing from us shortly.” Then he looked briefly at his watch, and signaled to his colleagues. “Now we must be off to the next class.”
The men hastily made their way down the corridor to the grade three classroom, where Ivashkevich was bent over his desk, leafing through a pile of papers.
“Comrade Ivashkevich?” Yeliseyenko poked his head through the door. “Excuse the interruption. We’re running an investigation of the school today and would appreciate a few minutes of your time. May we?”
Looking up, somewhat startled, Ivashkevich took off his spectacles and shoved his papers aside. “By all means, come in, please.”
Yeliseyenko wasted no time in getting down to business. “We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the school. How long have you been teaching here?”
“About two months.”
“And how do you feel about the school? In other words, in your opinion is it being run efficiently and effectively?”
Ivashkevich hesitated. “Things aren’t bad. However … how shall I put it … uh …”
Sobakin snapped, “Out with it, we don’t have all day.”
“Well,” Ivashkevich said, “to put it simply, I find teaching here rather difficult. The people in Hlaby are not Belorussian as I was led to believe. The children can’t speak a word of it and I have to start from scratch — quite literally from the alphabet. It’s created a big headache for me. From what I understood, when the regime assigned me here, I would be among fellow Belorussians, but this is not the case at all. Everyone here speaks Ukrainian.”
Visibly agitated, Yeliseyenko pretended to ignore what he had just heard. He started up again, this time about Kulik. “And what about the headmaster? Do you find him competent and reliable?”
“Oh, yes, quite, and I might add, the charges of subversion and anti-Semitism building up against him are complete nonsense. Not only is Comrade Kulik a good headmaster but he’s an upstanding citizen. Why Haya Fifkina has built a case against him, I don’t know. In my opinion, she’s created a mountain out of a molehill. Allow me to speak candidly — our headmaster did a wonderful job in turning that young Ohrimko around. We were all convinced he was hopeless, but Comrade Kulik proved us all wrong and I applaud his efforts. Kulik is setting a fine example for the children and is encouraging them not only to work hard but to take their schooling seriously.”