The Kukotsky Enigma: A Novel

4

Elena’s Second Notebook

I NEED TO JOT DOWN MY NOTES AT THE SAME TIME EVERY day and to tell Vasilisa to remind me. I used to keep a notebook like this, but I don’t remember where it’s disappeared to. For absolute certain I hid it somewhere, but I don’t remember where. I tried looking for it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. I remember well what it looked like: a general-purpose school notebook on some subject that Tanya had started and then abandoned. Light blue.

Today my head is clear, and my thoughts are in order. Sometimes there are days when I can’t think a single thought to the end and I lose it. Or I lose words, and everything is filled with black holes. What a disaster!

At first the doctors thought that I had some sort of disease that affected the blood vessels in my brain. Then PA took me to the Burdenko Institute, and they tested me with all their various apparatuses. PA didn’t leave me for a second, and he looked so lost. He’s too good for words. There, at the Burdenko Institute, they said that my blood vessels weren’t great, but that nothing terrible was happening to them. It turned out that in fact they had been looking for a brain tumor and were happy not to have found one. Of course, there wasn’t supposed to be one. I am absolutely sure that there’s nothing in my head that shouldn’t be there; just the opposite, something necessary is missing. A psychiatrist examined me as well. He also found no disease. Still, I spent a month and a half on sick leave, then went back to work. Everyone was very glad to see me, Galya and Anna Arkadievna as well. Galya had been doing all my work and says that she’d had a rough time. Kozlov brought his drafts and asked me to do final copy. As always, I found lots of mistakes in his work. It’s just amazing: he’s such a talented engineer, but has absolutely no spatial imagination.

I feel best at my drafting board: I don’t forget anything, and my work, as always, consoles me.

Tanechka of late has become more kind. Although basically nothing has changed: she isn’t looking for work and quit the university. PA says that I shouldn’t pester her about that. He says that she’s an intelligent girl and we should trust her judgment. Yesterday (or the day before?) Tanya dropped in on me in the evening when I was already in bed. She kissed me, sat down on the bed, and asked if I remembered how we had all gone to Timiryazevka to ride the horses. We spent a long time recollecting that winter day. I remember all the details: how PA’s nose kept dripping. (He’d forgotten his handkerchief at home and kept asking us to turn away, blowing his nose soldier-style between his two fingers. With a trumpeting sound.) How happy we were in those days! I remember perfectly all the details of that day, the kind of car we rode in, what kind of coat Tanya had on, even that famous purebred black horse with the small head. Only I couldn’t remember its name, and Tanya reminded me: its name was Arab. I don’t remember why PA was so cheerful that day. He still didn’t drink then.

No, that’s not right. I’m mistaken: that was precisely the year he started to drink. He keeps worrying about my health, but he ought to think about himself. He can’t drink that much at his age. But I can’t say anything to him. Still he’s the best. Despite the fact that we’ve lived as if we’ve been divorced for ten years. Or not divorced?

Another memory slip again. This time at work. During lunch I was in the cafeteria. I was eating salad when I suddenly couldn’t figure out what was in front of me: some red pieces of something that I had no idea what to do with . . . I came to, like last time, the next day in my bed. Then Anna Arkadievna came and told me what had happened to me. I stayed in the cafeteria with my salad until the cafeteria lady said that it was time for her to close, but I didn’t answer her. She even got scared. And so on. Anna Arkadievna didn’t call an ambulance, but got a cab and drove me home. She says that I was very obedient but didn’t respond to questions.

PA resigned me from my job. He speaks very tenderly to me, but unnaturally, as with a little child. I have tried to explain to him that I am absolutely healthy, that certain pieces drop out of my memory, but that in all other respects everything’s the same. I am not insane, and I understand perfectly what’s happening to me. I really can’t go to work in this condition, but I would like to get work from the institute to do at home. We have an arrangement for people who work at home. Otherwise, I’ll just be bored. It’s not like Vasilisa and I are going to start making soup together. So he and I made an agreement.

Yesterday Tomochka said that she’s planning on entering trade school. Good girl! She’s also very tender with me.

This morning I drank tea, ate a piece of bread with cheese, and then forgot and went back to the kitchen to have breakfast. Vasilisa yelled at me, saying that I got in the way of her making dinner. I said that I wanted to have breakfast. She said that I had already eaten breakfast. What a nightmare! I’m turning into an old woman who never walks away from the refrigerator, like Anna Arkadievna’s crazy mother-in-law. I’m going to have to write down what I did and didn’t do.

I ate breakfast. I ate dinner. I worked after dinner. The doctor from the polyclinic came by. It’s cold in my room.

I ate breakfast (or was that yesterday?). PA came home and scolded me for not taking my pills. Now Vasilisa is going to give me my pills three times a day because I forget. That’s very funny. It would be hard to find anyone less suited for that assignment. Today she woke me at six in the morning—to take my medicine. “My dear, why so early?” I asked her. “Later I’ll be busy and forget!” It’s so funny you want to cry! This isn’t a family; it’s a madhouse. Poor PA, what will happen to him if I lose my memory entirely?

I ate breakfast. I couldn’t remember if I washed up or not. I went to wash up, but my towel was wet. That means I’d already washed. There was dinner: vegetable soup and chicken for the main dish. Was there chicken yesterday too? And the day before?

They brought my drafting table from work. It fills half my room. I asked if it couldn’t be moved. It turned out that they had brought it last week. I was amazed. I didn’t tell them the worst of it: it turns out that I had already done some work, drafted something, but I don’t remember a thing. And it would be awkward to ask. I’m trying hard to behave correctly. Because I’m afraid of constantly revealing my memory lapses I’ve almost stopped talking with people at home and try to answer with as few words as possible. I watch TV more. Reading gives me no pleasure. I picked up my old volume of Tolstoy. It’s probably the only reading that doesn’t depress me. I know his work so well that I don’t have to strain.

Today my head is exceptionally clear. I had Vasilisa change my bedding. She has never liked to change bedding. If you don’t remind her, she’ll never do it on her own. I took a bath and washed my hair. While sitting in the tub I remembered a recent dream with an enormous amount of water in it. Suddenly I realized that I had not stopped having dreams; I’d simply stopped remembering them. I have to try to write everything down.

PA sat with me for a long while in my room. I feel so good with him. He simply sat down in the armchair next to me and said nothing. Then he took me by the hand and played with my fingers for the longest time. I love him very much. He probably knows that.

I ate breakfast. I took my pills. I ate dinner. Kozl. has two mistakes in his drafts. It’s much more plesnt working with constructors. They have mch more competent staff.

It turns out it’s already May. I must start writing down the date. Otherwise, time is like mush. PA said that he wants to rent a dacha. That seems excessive to me. What does he imagine: Vasilsa and I will move there, and he’ll come to visit on Saturdays and Sundays, and the girls, who knos if they’ll come even once the whol summer. And who’s going to take care of the whole apartment in Mocsow. Vasilis’s also against it. She left for some prayer service for several days, and the apartment just simply fell apart. Only in the evening PA came home and life begagagan. One day I didn’t even get otuof bed. Everything in the kitchen has been rearranged, I don’t know where the pots are, or where . . . Or maybe I simply forgot?

I ATE BREAKFAST. AND SO ON.

Vasilisa sad that she’s leaving for Ss. Peter and Paul day. The twelvth July?

Strangers. More strngers. Why are so many strangers cming here?

someone died DIED

I don’t understand, but it’s uncomfortable asking: it seems we’ve moved to a new aprtment. Everything is different. A long cordor.

Tanya came by today. Or Toma. No, it was Tan. She’s beautiful.

No one home. Yesterday no one. TANYA PA

Vasilisa gave me tea

BREAKFAST DINNER SUPPER

PA said yesterday that he gong on a busness trip. Three days. Vasilisa dosn’t give me breakfst.

BREAKFAST Nothing hurts. Nothing thing hurts. DIED who

TANYA TANYA TANYA TANYA

HOSPITAL BREAKFAST NO

PAVEP A PV PA

WHITE brkfast

Happning awfal ask PA WHERE

WPER WHER WRE HERWHERWH

I Elena Grgeva N Kukts 1915 PA who ded de tnya