Stargorod: A Novel in Many Voices

Candy

About 15 years ago, in the last days of the old hippie “system,” when its founding fathers – like Doughnut, Cockatoo, Noodle and Jimmie Mixer – were still around, and the various tolkienists, bikers, reconstructionists, gopniks and other sundry tribes were only beginning to emerge, a crew of very hairy people who called themselves “pipl” pitched its tents at the river a dozen miles from Stargorod. There was an excellent beach there, and a village with a grocery store nearby, but, most importantly, there was an expansive karst cave with labyrinths of corridors and passages that went on seemingly forever. The hippies meditated in a large black hall not far from the entrance, where they attempted to rid themselves of passions by letting the void into their souls.

Pipl also believed that it was here that the cave’s guardian, She of Two Faces, found Dao. In pipl’s memory She was a girl who went into the cave with her boyfriend, and fell into a crevice. The guy left her three candles, water and some bread, and then abandoned her, to his eternal shame. The rescue team found the food and the candles intact, but the girl disappeared. Now She sometimes appears to tourists in her old visage, and sometimes in the guise of an old hag. Those who meet the girl are advised to ask her to make one heart-felt wish come true. Her other shape is dangerous – those who see Her as a hag risk remaining underground forever.

In the year of this story, three people of interest joined the hippie slam: the legendary Noodle with his girl Olesya, and a photographer referred to as Botan, who held on to his brand-new Nikon camera even in his sleep. Pipl greeted their arrival with loud exclamations of “Wow!” Botan didn’t get bent, didn’t trip and didn’t shoot the breeze – he didn’t have Noodle’s storytelling gift, and when he wasn’t staring at Olesya, with whom he’d been in love since high school, in mute adoration, he could be seen in nearby fields and meadows taking pictures of clouds and bugs. Any form of art was respected among the pipl, but Botan remained outside the “system” – they suffered him out of altruism.

Noodle had picked up Olesya on the street, right after prom: the girl was walking away from the party, crying – she’d just broken up with Botan, who was stupid enough to confess to her that he loved photography more than anything else in the world. An old-school hippie, Noodle chatted up the girl and later gave her “candy” as the hippies call their woven bracelets. There’s something else they call “candy,” too, though – and Noodle got Olesya addicted. For the pipl, an exchange of bracelets is a sacred ritual – they believe the gift tunes the receiver into the mind of the giver.

So, one night, the whole tribe decided to go to the underground room. There, they sat on their towels and began getting in touch with the void.

Naturally, the conversation turned to Dao, and then someone brought up She of Two Faces. Doughnut said that if you took the bracelet of someone who wanted to get off the needle and gave it to the cave’s guardian, the person would instantly kick the habit, without any withdrawal pains. Olesya took off her bracelet right there and then and looked at Noodle. He shrugged indifferently. Before anyone could say anything, Botan snatched the bracelet from her hand, grabbed a single candle, a flashlight and his camera, and went underground.

He was gone for three days. On the fourth day, the pipl decided to call in the rescue squad, but right then, at dusk, he came to the campfire – the way a drama lead comes out from behind the curtain when the show is over and he’s carried the day. Botan’s underground wanderings left their mark: he was exhausted and worn, but utterly serene; he regarded the pipl with a calm, commanding gaze, his eyes pale like a pair of washed-out old jeans, and told them that he had seen She of Two Faces and given her Olesya’s bracelet. Many, of course, did not believe him, but Olesya came up to the hero and took his hand. He looked straight through her, took his hand away, went to his tent and fell asleep.

The next morning, Botan went to Stargorod, printed his picture and brought it back to the pipl to prove his story. The picture showed a large cave with an arched ceiling. In the far corner, a softly outlined figure floated above the floor. Of those who knew the cave best, none had ever been to this room. And then suddenly – those who were there remember this clearly – the shape in the print began to vanish slowly and soon disappeared altogether, as though it had never been. The same day, Botan packed his things and left. Olesya also left, a few days later, and without Noodle. Pipl attributed her depressed mood to withdrawal, but that was just the thing: she didn’t feel anything; she’s got clean as easily as Doughnut had promised.

The hippie “system” soon collapsed – as did countless cultures of tribes and peoples who before seemed eternal. The story of Olesya’s bracelet became part of local lore. These days, special guides take people to the cave for a fee, and at the entrance old ladies sell beaded, woven bracelets. In the room where the pipl used to seek Dao, drug addicts and tourists from all over the country leave the bracelets they’ve bought outside as an offering to She of Two Faces. Speleologists are looking for “Botan’s room,” but they haven’t found it yet.

The photo editor of the Stargorod Herald likes to say, that if a photographer loves life more than he loves photography, he’ll never get anywhere. Botan now shoots for GEO and National Geographic; he’s traveled the world. Nothing is known about Olesya, but it is rumored among professionals that Botan still sleeps with his camera – and nothing else.