Stargorod: A Novel in Many Voices

Petty Officer

When he is drunk, he sits on the bench with his head thrown back, mouth open. He stares into the sky. When he is very drunk – his head is in his hands, between his knees. He cries when he is very drunk. He smears his tears across his unshaven cheeks with his dirty, motor-oil stained hand. He cries because he is sorry for the kids. Afterwards, he goes to give Nadka a beating. But she’s wised up, too – she jumps at him first and grabs his hair, and aims to get her fingernails into his eyes. That’s how they live: he forever scratched, she forever covered in bruises.

In the morning, he goes to the sailing club’s boathouse – there, he works on the boats’ diesels, welds and rivets things until half past four. Then, if he hasn’t had anything to drink yet, he spends a couple hours working on the small side jobs people send his way. Then he takes the cash he’s made from these and spends it on liquor, for himself and the other guys. Sometimes he drinks with Nadka. He likes to chase down his booze with kvas, but first he lets his favorite – Svetlanka – have some. The three-year-old Svetlanka is smart: when she rattles off her “motherfuckers,” everyone cracks up. Svetlanka is his fifth. The last one. Nadka swore not to have any more. But she’s always like this: she swears on her mother’s grave to this or that, and he forgives her. He’s all right with it – she’ll tell everyone if she’s knocked up, way before she shows. After four boys, who knew they’d get a girl? Nadka now uses her as a shield, when he comes to beat her. And he backs off. He never beats her when she’s got the girl in her arms. He goes to sleep instead. And leaves the next morning without breakfast. His boys – they’re always trying to slip away from school and hang out with him in the boathouse instead. He doesn’t send them back – no point in forcing it if they don’t want to. The three oldest had to repeat each grade anyway. Grandma Katya, his mother, only shakes her head: why torment the poor kids if they just don’t have school in them? She, for one, never learned to read and has lived her life just fine; she’s had a good, working life – some’d be lucky to live like she did. And books are trouble, that’s all they do. There’s an example right here in the family: Olen’ka, his sister’s daughter, got into reading, and read day and night, you couldn’t drag her away from the books. And then she started feeling sorry for everyone; all she did was cry – out of pity. Now she doesn’t even recognize anyone; doesn’t know her own mother when she comes to visit. No, thank you – it’s better without books.

Grandma Katya goes to church. She knows the service by heart better than some literate folks, but she’s had to stop singing – her thyroid’s got the better of her. She got all ready to die last winter, but her oldest daughter, Valyusha, came and rescued her. She carried grandma out of their place in her arms, warmed her up, and nursed her back to health. Now grandma Katya stays two doors over, with Valyusha. She comes out to sit on her bench, and her son sits on his bench, head rolled back, staring into the sky. Or crying. Because he’s sorry for the children.

Grandma Katya also feels sorry for the children. Whenever they run over to her place, she feeds them. The older ones are now embarrassed and don’t go so often. They find crusts at home – spread them out on the floor, pick through them to find the good ones, and soak them in tea. And Svetlanka crawls all over, back and forth, until she falls asleep on the crusts and pees herself. Or sometimes she also sleeps standing, like a horse – she puts her head on the couch and sleeps.

Nadka makes 100 rubles a month at the sailing club – she washes the floors there. In summer, she makes another 70 for cleaning the toilets at the tourist camp. There, they also give her leftovers from the kitchen, soup or meat entrees – in summer, the kids eat well. Sometimes she also goes into town and gets her state aid for multiple children – then she buys a bottle of liquor, and spends the rest on the kids. She brings kvas for Svetlanka, and little one says: “Mom, it’s beer! It’s beer, mom.” It makes Nadka laugh: “It’s not beer, sweetie, it’s kvas.” Svetlanka then smiles – like a fox – and washes her hands in the kvas. Or drinks it. Or the other kids drink it. Kvas is tasty.

First thing when he comes home – Svetlanka. She says, “Papa!” And her papa, if he’s able, picks her up, and strokes her head sometimes, and sometimes tickles her velvety cheek with his stubble. On Nadka’s paydays, he gets drunk and wants to beat Nadka. This is why Nadka now runs away on her paydays – she takes the money and goes to town. Before, she used to run away without the money, too – someone gave her booze in town – and now she only does it when she has cash. Is she now paying for someone else’s? She’s gone two or three days, then she comes back. Broke, of course. Eyes bulging. She lies on the couch and moans, and the kids tiptoe around, fetching her tea. They love their mommy.

He’d come home, take one look at her there on the couch, and go to his bench outside. When she’s lain for a bit, she’ll feel better and grope her way out. She’ll sit next to him, and they’ll eat sunflower seeds together, and she’ll complain about her gallbladder. Or tell him she’s sorry and would he forgive her. Or not. Sometimes they just sit there.

If they see people walk by, they say hello. People say hello back, and then go on their way to gossip about Nadka. What else can they do? They feel sorry for the kids.

He does, too.

He sits on his bench until late. Nadka, inside, watches a movie. She’s big on movies. The kids also watch, until they fall asleep – wherever they were sitting.

He sits. If he cries, that means he is really drunk.

He is 36. But you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He’s forgotten already when he came back from the navy. He served on a nuclear submarine. Then he came back and got Nadka – he won her over, she used to go with another guy. She’s been on her own since she was 17 – her folks threw her out. And he was a catch – he was handsome then. Then they had kids. Not right away, though, after five years or so. He’d actually gone to the doctor after the submarine, and the doctor said he’d never father his own. But then added the good news: otherwise, everything works just fine!

He’d came back decorated, all stripes and ribbons. Petty Officer First Class. He’s got a picture to prove it. Grandma Katya has it on the wall above her bed, with the pictures of all her other kids and grandkids.

“Say what you want, he came back a prince – any girl would go for him. Why’d he have to choose that slut is what I don’t know,” mutters grandma Katya sitting on her bench.

Two doors down, he is sitting on his bench, crying. He’s crying for the kids, and himself, and Nadka – he’s sorry for the whole world.

Next door there isn’t anyone left to feel sorry about: the neighbor killed his wife with an axe a month after the wedding. He thought he saw something about her he didn’t like. Now the family sends him packages somewhere up North.