An Indian Summer

 

Or Happy Birthday to You

 

A play in one act

 

By Alexandra Chichkanova

 

Translated by Noah Birksted-Breen

 

Characters:

 

Roma

Sveta

Katya

Sofia Petrovna

They are all working in a local ‘House of Culture’

 

SCENE ONE

 

My memories. Where are do they come from? Where are they born? I have been reminiscing my whole life. That’s to say, I think about things from childhood, from the moment when I remember myself. I constantly think about what was and I think: did it need to be that way, does it need to be exactly as it is now? I can’t not remember. I can’t live without it. All the best is always somewhere far behind, so far that it’s always being forgotten. And suddenly that’s it - it’s not there any more. I make up my memories, my past, but I believe in it, I live it. But it never really happened. IT IS SELF-DECEPTION.

 

The many-coloured mosaic of recollection is woven, no doubt, from one’s very birth. The coloured paper from the chocolate sweets which were New Year presents, tea with the elephants on and coffee in big brown jars. The coloured wrapping paper, beautiful on one side, not very from the other, just shiny. If you turn it over and cut it up very finely and then – by looking into it -  look THERE. There’s a lot there, in other words, of what used to be in life. There’s some sort of mystery. Maybe there actually is, maybe there’s the secret of beauty on earth hidden there? Maybe there is actually such a thing, the thing exists which sometimes makes you SO desperately want to live?

 

If you look for a long, long time out of the window, at passers-by, you can see beauty. A young, red-headed and obligingly curly-haired lad with blue eyes. He’s walking with a quick step, he’s walking and smiling and suddenly turns for some reason, – why? he doesn’t understand it himself - he turned and saw me. And it was very beautiful.

 

To wake up in the morning, go outside and see that it’s suddenly clean everywhere, that there’s none of the dirt, which was there the whole spring, on the roads. Everything beyond the window disappeared overnight.

 

If you don’t tidy up for a long, long time and you create a real mess, and then suddenly, in half an hour, you go and tidy everything up, then you come into your room, as if you haven’t been there for a long time, sit down on the sofa and look.

 

If you look through the window – opposite the house is a stadium: a field, stands. You can hear how someone is announcing the results, and names of the participants of a competition, into the microphone: ‘Preparing for the second race…’, ‘Can the competitors of the next race please make their way to the starting line…’ ‘Two minutes remains till the fifth race…’ ‘Whoever hasn’t got a number, please make your way over to the organisers…’

 

And the table is laid in the room. There are balloons on the walls. There is music playing. Wrapping paper shines under the presents. Sveta, Katya and Roma sit at the table. They are evidently very relaxed and have already had some drinks, and they’ve eaten and talked a lot. Sveta’s very thin, well-built, and as people say about people like her, they’re ‘petite’. She sits with her back straight. Katya, on the other hand, sits slouching. Her hair is bright green. Roma swings on his chair, sings something out of sink with the music. He sits at the centre of the table with Katya on his left and Sveta on his right. The girls talk to each other, across Roma. But at the same time with him.

 

KATYA. Then, suddenly, I was filled with fear, Svetka, I thought about it for a second. I thought about it and then I forgot it again. I thought – I’ll live this whole life, nothing’s important, it’ll be forgotten. And then there’ll be life, there, eternally. It was fear, that nothing depends on me, one way or the other I’ll have to live either here or there, that’s just how it is, as they say.

 

SVETA. And that’s why you went and dyed your hair, like some stupid idiot?

 

ROMA. I like it though, Katie, it’s unusual, trendy… it’s creative.

 

KATYA. I just thought – I was looking at these two girls… One was green, I mean her hair obviously, and the other was red. And I believed it was a sign. You see, only Romik understands me.

 

ROMA. No, seriously, there’s something really creative about it.

 

KATYA. I’ve started listening to music lately, I mean classical music. I love it. It was when the orchestra came to play, do you remember? I just listened really closely, it’s like I soaked up the art in what they were doing, just like that – I was totally on a high, after that. I went home and cried. Out of happiness that I’d worked out what it means, I understood where the real power is. I bought a tonne of CDs, like five or something. And I’ve been listening to them for days on end, I stay at home and sit and… listen.

 

SVETA. Yeah, I can tell Chaikovsky apart from any other of all the other composers. Mix them up and I can tell you one hundred, two hundred, three hundred, five hundred percent for sure – that’s Chaikovsky, but that one’s not Chaikovsky. And I can tell Wagner apart aswell. Because he was mad. But Chaikovsky’s …  classical. 

 

ROMA. He killed himself, know why? I read it a few days ago, man it’s cool, totally creative. He drank a glass of water and there was cholera in that town. But he didn’t care, drank it anyway. He was in love, unrequited. I’m also gonna go now, just to piss everyone off, drink something and die.

 

KATYA. That’s what I thought my whole life, I ought to do that – and I can’t play a single instrument, nobody taught me, the bastards.

 

ROMA. Yeah, I play the harmonica, already did at kindergarten, from childhood. (He stands up, he searches for a long time and gets out a child’s plastic harmonica. He stands on the chair between Katya and Sveta. He plays ‘A grasshopper sat in the grass’. He hits some wrong notes but he makes it to the end. He sits down, very pleased with himself, proud even.) And I haven’t forgotten it either. Deep in my memory. The earth is shaped like a suitcase. And you were saying Tchaikovsky, Svetka. I can you name any one. There’s nothing to guess round here. Katka, get out some disks. Let’s all of us play ‘Guess the melody’. Otherwise it’s boring sitting here staring at each other’s navels.

 

SVETA. Who do you mean, all of us? This is boring. Who’re you planning to play with? There’s no-one here. Two ducks and a goose. Are you drunk?

 

ROMA. Yes, I was meaning to ask you. Where’s my Indian summer? It’s always warm on my birthday, it’s hot and we walk around in T-shirts. Where is it, huh? I remember it from my childhood. Every year on my birthday there’s an Indian summer. I’m used to it. Why aren’t you saying anything? Where is it, you should know?

 

KATYA. You want a lot of things, Romoshka, you didn’t deserve it, probably. Come on, then, try to remember what bad thing you did this year. Happy new year to you, Romochka. A new year’s come in your life, congratulations!

 

ROMA. It’s cold, it smells of snow. I went out, almost died of shame. Today’s creative. It should be warm. As the saying goes. The summer doesn’t want to leave, the final warm days are behind it. Is it over by you, how’s things where you are?

 

SVETA. You’re the Indian summer, we don’t know anything, we’re just passers-by. Shut your gob, prick, you’re tired of life.

 

ROMA. Shut up yourself, go and look in the mirror.

 

Sveta and Roma laugh. Katya looks at them

.

SVETA. You know what it is, your Indian summer? It’s simple, everyone knows it. It’s a process of photosynthesis, transforming, turning – that’s for stupid people – energy hitting the earth from the sun’s radiation into a series of chemical reactions. It normally remains in vegetation in the form of warmth or is conserved in the earth’s crust in deposits of coal. Is that clear? It’s photosynthesis. It occurs with the help of absorption by coloured pigments, and more than anything chlorophyll. Biology text book, junior school, you don’t remember it?

 

ROMA. You’re right, there’s no-one here. I invited loads of people, food, snacks, drinks, who’s it all for? They wanted to come, they promised. It’s not creative of them. I think it should be creative.

 

 KATYA. You didn’t deserve this, Romusya. You’ve been a good boy, have you behaved yourself? Come on, now, own up to your mummy.

 

Roma gets out a photograph of a girl, looks at it for a long time, then looks at Sveta.

 

ROMA. Where is she? How long do we have to wait? Call her. We’ve got to take some action. This celebration is ours, yours, mine. We’re waiting or we’re not waiting – we need to know. She won’t come, she’s forgotten. (He cries. He appears to cry. Of course, he’s just fooling around.)

 

KATYA (strokes his head). Don’t cry, you’ll become a little calf.

 

SVETA. Where’d that come from? Not a calf, just an ass. How do I know? She promised. Maybe her train blew up, maybe she lost her ticket, she was arrested at the station, she’s sitting alone in the middle of the forest and cursing us. Just show us the photo and forgot about her. Are you going to ask for something else? Never forget, she’s your last chance. Better than all the other candidates, the very thing for you.

 

ROMA. I’ve heard you, you’re like a broken record. Just give her to me, okay. You’ve got to do everything quickly – put out some adverts, give birth. I’ve got to extend the species, you see? Make an heir. And what did my aunty say in the will – I won’t get the flat until I marry.  Well, is this an ambush?

 

KATYA. Who is she – Miss Universe? Better? Better than who? Who knows that? Who’s tested?

 

Roma goes over to the blinds, opens them and looks out of the window. Sveta goes over to him.

 

ROMA. It’s already dark and people are running. Lucky people. They know what they need in life. Look, can you see it, the first star has come out, it’s mine because it’s first. Creative? You didn’t know? I’m there, in the sky. I’m beautiful, aren’t I? I was sixteen years old, and I’d just started at the Institute. I started unpacking boxes at the food shop, I didn’t have any money. It was a hot autumn, the shop was like a sauna, I took off my shirt, and was working just like that. And the shopkeeper seduced me in the evening. I was lying in the storeroom with her, on sacks of flour, and she asks me – do you know why I like you, and she says, I was looking at you all day, at your naked back covered in drops, and I was dying.

 

Sveta laughs.

 

Stop neighing. I’m telling you the truth. And there’s the second star, that’s you. Or Katka.

 

SVETA. Thank you, I’m in second place, I notice, thanks.

 

ROMA. The person speaking is always in first place. I can’t exactly say about myself that I’m in second place, it wouldn’t be true. It probably happens sometimes from feverish love.

 

Katya goes up to them and also looks out of the window.

 

KATYA. Do you remember, Sveta, we were reading the horoscope yesterday in the papers. There was something about Aquarius can expect unpleasant things today. I remember I laughed. But I got home - the crystal vase, my favourite, you gave it to me, together… the cats had smashed it.

 

SVETA. I ate today, like a right old pig, I look and I’m sitting covered in crumbs, in fat. Is it true I’m like a pig? It’s shameful.

 

KATYA. I looked and I got upset, fine, I think, you’ll give me another one, no need to kill the cats, I took pity.

 

ROMA. Yes. Svetka, you’re like a pig, no, worse, like a hog. All greasy and fat. You’re bloated, you can’t breathe, you just sit there and stuff your mouth. I’m going to call you that, from now on. And I’ll write it in the phone book. And we’ll write it over your name plate at the office. Dances with Hogs.

 

SVETA (laughing, nudges Roma). Alright, that’s enough, stop it, that’ll do.

 

KATYA. You gave it to me, have you forgotten, or what. The vase, to put flowers in.

 

ROMA. I’m going to go outside now and shout out loud, let them know who my guest is. (He turns and goes out to the toilet.)

 

KATYA. It’s winter, you’re on the tram. You’re sitting on the seat, all warm, away from the frost when it’s frosty. And you’ve got the happy ticket. It’s already dark, it’s evening, I look out of the window and there’s the road, the grey asphalt. And there’s a wind. And cars are driving, and snow falls on the asphalt in the wind, in huge waves. And I have the ticket, my happiness, and I think – what shall I predict. I’m thinking how I’ll come home, I’ll close the door and swallow this ticket, I’ll drink it down with water. I got off the tram, and the snow’s in huge clumps, everything’s in a kind of fog. And I’m walking, I crumple up the ticket in my hand and I think that everything will be fine. It’s near, happiness, here, in my hand. (She reaches for a pad of paper from her bag, opens it, tickets fall out onto the table. There are lots of them, around thirty. She takes a glass of water, crumples them up and shoves them into her mouth.)

 

SVETA (grabs the tickets from her and the glass). That’s a cliché. You should at least switch on your imagination. It’s not trendy, not creative, alright?

 

Roma looks into the room. He stands by the doors. He listens.

 

KATYA. I love him. Of course, we’ve already established that the only candidate has been found. Everything’s against it. Give me the tickets. There’s mine, the conductor gave them to me. Why are you pining after somebody else’s happiness? I’ll eat them, suffocate and die of love. They’ll say, she died of feverish love, which only happens one in a thousand times, do you remember where that’s from?

 

SVETA. No, they’ll say, she had a high fever, in the latest stages of madness. You can’t love him, he’s always first. You’ll only be second. He won’t step aside for anything.

 

KATYA. I’m ready, I don’t care.

 

SVETA. Well, look at you. You’re nothing. How many years have I known you, and now this.

 

KATYA. And another things that’s good, if you’re walking along, thinking about something important, thinking – will it happen or not. And an old man crosses your path or a monk. It’s a good sign. Or in the morning, you leave the house early, you have to come across a man first. Then you’ll be lucky all day. Every time I come across a man, I’m fine.

 

SVETA. She’s in love, go and tell him, why are you torturing me with it, get stuck somewhere else. Who am I to you? A communication centre? Your love won’t last. I’m hanging around all evening, creating the mood, music, songs.

 

KATYA. Yes, the whole evening you’re on a podium but you’re not a former prima donna from the Bolshoi Theatre.

 

SVETA. Just shut up. If you like, I’ll be honest. When I see you sitting and sewing those toys – dolls, dogs, God I just want to vomit. I’ve come over to your place, what, 106 times or was it just once? Did you ever notice?

 

KATYA. I gave them to you. You said you liked them. Were you lying?

 

SVETA. Take them and put them far away so nobody sees them - how embarrassing.

 

KATYA (doesn’t know how to reply). Well I, I, I, hate dancing anyway. Takes no brains.

 

Sveta laughs. Louder and louder.   

 

SVETA. Look in the mirror for starters. Look at yourself first, then look at me. And you can say whatever you want, then. But looks are a fact. Even if Romik were to choose one of us. I’m just saying, without needing to think about it, he’d choose me.

 

Katya wants to say something but Sveta is first.

 

SVETA. Say what you want, any facts, any suppositions, - it’s nothing compared to naked reality. Er, I mean that literally, by the way. So today’s concert is over. Thank you for your attention.

 

Roma moves away from the doors, takes out pencils from the drawer in the table. He takes out a knife. He sits and sharpens the pencils. Sveta comes in.

 

SVETA. What are you doing? Eh?      

 

ROMA. I used to dream about a real, simple Czech pencil. I dreamt about it my whole childhood. Then I forgot. Not long ago, I remembered about it. I ran to buy a whole pile and now I just can’t get enough. I sit sharpening and it’s pure joy.

 

It’s audible how someone’s moving about in the corridor, looking for something.

 

SVETA. That’s Katka getting her coat on, she’s planning to leave.

 

ROMA. Let her go, it’s late, she’s got to be up at nine tomorrow. She’ll still get a good night’s sleep. What’s there to do here? Nothing interesting. And you can go. I’m not bored. I’m fine. (He takes Sveta’s hand and smiles). Go together, it’s on your way, maybe I should accompany you? I can, I’d just need to put my coat on, I’m quick.

 

SVETA (she squeezes his hand harder). No, no, sit here. So, listen. It’s strange. I don’t love you at all, well, not as a man, I mean. I always thought that I don’t love you. And same for you, isn’t it? But now, do you see, when I talk to other men. It’s not so simple, when I do, not so truthful, do you know what I mean?

 

ROMA.  Not really. (He laughs.) What was that, um – truthfully?

 

SVETA. I feel something with them, sure. With the ones I love, yeah? Then I feel. But you just touch the palm of my hand – it makes me shiver. Somewhere here, in my throat, it’s painful to breathe. And suddenly I want to live for ever. Why is that, do you know?

 

ROMA (smiles). Why is that, do you know? No, I don’t know. Svetka, let’s kiss, well, not seriously, but just like that.

 

SVETA. Where’s that come from? Well, go on then, if it’s just like that.

 

They kiss.

 

ROMA. That was alright. Creative. We’ve known each other how many years? – and we never kissed. We better take a look what she’s up to – she’s gone suspiciously quiet. Speak of the devil… She’s all trendy, dressed up today specially, she wanted to make me feel good, she really tried.

 

SVETA (she sharply pulls her hand away). She’s come off a rubbish heap but she’s dressed like a Hollywood star, bought everything in a cool store. (She leaves the room).

 

Katya is getting her coat and shoes on. But for all that, the way she’s doing it makes it pretty clear that she’s not hurrying to leave, i.e. she doesn’t want to leave. She takes her time, makes it seem as if she’s forgotten something, comes back, goes back and forth. Sveta looks at her with scorn and snorts. Someone rings the door bell. Roma doesn’t hear it. He sits down at the table again and starts sharpening his pencils as before. Sveta goes back in to him.

 

SVETA (whispering in his ear). Romik, she’s come, did you hear the bell? It’s her, Romik.

 

Roma gets up, looks around. For some reason, he quickly tidies, clears up and brushes away the mess, throwing everything into a chest of drawers. Then he looks in the mirror and sprays himself with eau de toilette. Katya looks into the peep-hole and laughs quietly. Roma comes out in to the corridor, again, he’s already by the door, he looks in to the mirror, at himself, sees Katya in the mirror, smiles at her somehow guiltily… He opens the door.

 

Sophia Petrovna stands there. She has a bayan around her shoulders, on a strap. She’s fifty years old. She has short, dyed-white hair and a bright face. Unusually bright. And, basically, she’s drunk, falling from side to side. To seem important, she chews gum and she makes a sober face. Katya smiles. Roma becomes somewhat subdued, he wilts.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Well, hello, are you not pleased, or something? It’s me. Didn’t you recognise me? (She notices Katya and Sveta). Oh, what a gathering. Isn’t it your bedtime? Are you going to overstay your welcome? Guests should know when to leave. Well, as it thingies… happens… it’s time for you to go. Five minutes to chat. Then - to bed.

 

All three are silent. They look at Sophia Petrovna. They wait, as if to find out what will come next.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. So for me, people divide into two categories: those who like real flowers on stage, in the theatre, and those who like artificial ones. Personally, I couldn’t give a crap, but that’s how things are basically. Someone eats olives, someone doesn’t eat olives, someone drinks beer, and someone else drinks beer with vodka. And someone stays here now, in this hut, and someone beats it and doesn’t look back.

 

ROMA. Eh, Sophia Petrovna? Good evening. Please come in, we have plenty of food here, the table’s laid.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. What, you think I came here to stuff my face? You think I sat at home and had dinner? I’ve been to banquets you couldn’t imagine, I’ve stuffed my face with such… I came for you, Romusya, for you.

 

ROMA. Well, please come in, since you’ve come for me, I live here, in this flat, close the door or the neighbours will start complaining.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Yes, get back, that’s right. Someone step back, back up, up your arsehole. Is that clear? Romik, do you want to go to the toilet? ‘Cos then we can go together, and I could hold your willy.

 

SVETA. Rom, don’t look, don’t listen to her. Menopause, hm. Has it started, Sophia Petrovna? Well, congratulations!

 

KATYA. Hello, hello. Do you know ‘O how the guelder rose grows’? Or do you only play with children, and sing children’s songs?

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Turned up, sniffed around him for days on end. Don’t come near. Like flies on shit. I’m not talking about you, Romik. Listen, you’re not a gynaecologist by any chance? I’d come to your surgery, sign up with you. ‘Cos I so need to fuck – my teeth are chattering. Let’s kiss with our gums. I know how to do that.  

 

Katya scrapes past Sophia Petrovna who is standing by the door, and tries to leave.

 

ROMA. Where are you going?

 

KATYA. I’ve had enough.

 

Finally, Sophia Petrovna’s become weak, Katya goes out into the hallway by the front door. Roma goes after her. Sophia Petrovna and Sveta swear at each other. Roma and Katya goes down to the ground floor and leave the building.

 

ROMA. Shall I accompany you?

 

KATYA (smiles). It’s only five minutes home, what’s wrong? You forgot that? Won’t happen even if you want to. You’re not an accompanier…  

 

ROMA. I just said it, out of habit, without thinking.

 

KATYA. Out of habit? Thing’s are pretty clear with you. I’m off.

 

ROMA. Say hi to your mum from me, there’s been a lot on.

 

KATYA. Sure.

 

ROMA. How is she.

 

KATYA. Fine.

 

ROMA. She’s not ill?

 

KATYA. No. She said – I’m going to die soon anyway so it would be a shame to waste time being ill.

 

ROMA. True, and how’s your cat?

 

KATYA. Fine. My mum, my cat, the television, the fridge, the loo. They’re all fine. They’re all alive, everything works. But, Roma, do you know how cold it is when nobody loves you! Very cold, Roma, you’ve never felt that cold, you don’t know what it is, Roma! (She turns and leaves.)

 

Roma smokes. Katya doesn’t look back. Roma goes back up to the flat. Sveta and Sophia Petrovna sit at the table, drinking and laughing.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. He rolls up, looking like… and I said to him – my sweatheart … (She sees Roma.) Happy birthday to you, or what? (She wants to kiss him).

 

ROMA. I’m sorry, of course, but at this particular moment I’ve gone off sex. I’m happy just like that.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. And love? You haven’t gone off that, have you? Romik, shall we spend the evening intellectually, so to speak? Do you want to sing to my bayan? We’ve got everything we need here.

 

ROMA. I heard enough of it at work, thanks.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Well, kiss me then, on the arse, Romik. (She laughs.)

 

SCENE TWO

 

God and Love are one and the same thing, as they say, as they are used to saying, as they would like it to be. For it to be beautiful. Everyone wants beauty, to have it in a way that nobody else does. Beautiful, beau, wunderbar. You can find different words. Funny words. Beauty isn’t in the places people look. God and Love are two mutually exclusive things, two forces which don’t cross paths, two sounds which never become one important word. God alone can love, if he actually exists, that is. Nobody else is capable of it any more, however hard they try, however much they want it. Love is related to something higher, to something holy. Here, there is only suffering, yes and dirt on the roads in the spring and summer. It seems that there’s no salvation from this dirt.

 

A Mother and Little Girl are watching television.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Mamma, I don’t want you to live with that man. Then there’ll be lots of little children. And I won’t have anything to eat. Then I’ll go and live on the streets. I’m already an adult, I know everything already. If you live for a long time with that man, a small kitten will appear in your tummy, you’ll eat a lot and it will turn into a child.

 

MOTHER. You don’t understand me at all. When you grow up, you’ll have a daughter, and she’ll be just like you – nasty and unhelpful.

 

LITTLE GIRL. I won’t ever have a kitty in my tummy, I don’t want to live with men, their beards prickle and they smell bad.

 

MOTHER. What do you mean – are you going to live alone?

 

LITTLE GIRL. No, I want to marry, but only to a husband who will be like that man. Do you remember, we met him when we were buying me a cap and a T-shirt? He danced a small dance with me, at the dances. He was so-so-so good. We walked along the shore and the sea was down below, and he was telling me that if you get on a boat, you can sail to another island, and there everything is beautiful and warm. And also, there are lots of shiny stones there, and I wanted to sail away, dig them up and show off to everyone in our town.

 

MOTHER. And where was I then? I can’t remember any of that.

 

LITTLE GIRL. You were walking behind and not listening to anything. Have you got his photograph? Otherwise I can only remember how he looked at me and how he tucked me in and turned off the lamp. And then he whispered to you. And in the morning he was gone.

 

Katya comes into the flat. She sees drops of blood on the floor in the corridor, walks across them, there’s already a path on the floor, a stream of blood. Katya understands what’s going on and quickly runs to the far room. She opens the door. Her mother is lying on the bed. Her eyes are closed, she groans. Her hands are covered in blood.

 

KATYA. My God, I want to… God, I hate you. Just don’t die, you cunt. Tomrrow, I’ll leave you a razor and you can finish yourself off! (She gets out a sheet from the cupboard, tears it, bandages up her mothers’ arms). God only knows why I’m still alive, why I haven’t flipped already. Oh, you don’t know, well, kill yourself then!

 

MOTHER (opens her eyes, pushes Katya away). I’m not coming with you, okay? Don’t even say it, I’m not coming. I don’t need your money, keep it for someone else, I don’t need it.

 

Katya pays no attention. She ties up her arms and goes into the bathroom. She wipes the floor and cries.

 

MOTHER. You’ve got money, I remember that, but I don’t need any. I love someone else. And there’s nothing more important than love. You’re very good, you’re honest, you’re respectable, but I love someone else.

 

Katya puts something down on the floor and goes to her mother.

 

KATYA. Do you want to eat? You should eat something to get your blood circulating again.

 

MOTHER. If you’re planning to force me, nothing will come of it, I’m warning you right away. Things can only happen out of love, and there’s none of that between you and me.

 

KATYA. Don’t lie around like an idiot, mum. You should eat.

 

Katya’s mother looks at her for a long time and nods. Katya goes to the kitchen, puts something on a plate, pours something into a cup, and brings it all to her mother. Her mother sits on the floor, writing something on the wooden floor boards, no, just running her hands along the floor.

 

KATYA. Are you…? Not again… Here, I made you some food, eat, mum, please.

 

MOTHER. Just wait a bit, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, there’s plenty of time to eat as much as I want. I’ll write him a letter, no? It must get to him, he must read it. I’ll call the central post office tomorrow, I’ll find the most senior postman and I’ll sternly order him – you must try, my dear chap, it’s very important to me, that my letter gets to its destination.

 

KATYA. Well, just as soon as you’ve eaten, you can finish writing the letter. Okay, mum? For my sake. Because I’ve got to get up early tomorrow, very early. Have a bite, mum.

 

MOTHER. What’s that, child? I don’t have my own children yet, I’m young, I’m thirty. I’ll wait another couple of years, then I’ll have some. If you want, I’ll read aloud, and you can correct me from the side – it’s always clearer. You can correct the mistakes if there are any. Shall I read?

 

KATYA. Eat, mum, eat and get better.

 

Mother puts the Little Girl to bed.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Mummy, where’s that man, do you remember, he lived with us once?

 

MOTHER. No, I don’t remember, there wasn’t any man, sleep.

 

LITTLE GIRL. There was. Don’t argue with me. He and me sat on the floor and drew in a drawing album lots of different pictures. And also we played cowboys and with the cube.

 

MOTHER (crying). There wasn’t any man, you’re small and you don’t remember anything.

 

LITTLE GIRL. He bought a game, we threw a cube and moved along the box. And I came first.

 

Katya goes into the bathroom, turns on the water, bends over and washes her hair – the green dye washes out.

 

Her mother sits on the bed and throws the plate down onto the floor. Katya sits next to her, stroking her mother’s head.

 

KATYA. Sleep peacefully, mum, try not to dream, you don’t need to.

 

Her mother opens her eyes and gets up from the bed.

 

MOTHER. Girl, come closer, I wish you and your whole family good health because you’ve let me have this space, because you’ve done such a kind thing. You know, my girl, piss is filtered inside first it cleans the organism then eliminates obstacles it liquidates blockages restores living organisms and streams which the illness stopped people find it hard to imagine how much mucus is contained in their heads until it begins to come out as pus or pus-like substances the human organism is the best doctor it needs help piss cures many fatal diseases tuberculosis in the intestines old forms of colitis you should read the alphabet of health the miracle of starving additional weight healing nourishment living water…

 

Katya runs out of the flat. She has the feeling that she’s forgotten something and that she desperately wants to do it. She has to succeed in doing something. Katya goes outside and starts running to Dima’s house. She quickly goes up to his floor. She stands by the flat, unable to make up her mind to ring the bell. She goes down some steps and looks in the window. She hears music and voices in the flat, someone is singing along to the voice on the record-player. The door opens and Roma comes out to smoke. He sees Katya. He stands quietly, looking at her. The window in the hallway is broken and cold air is blowing in. Katya stands in the draught. It seems as if she doesn’t notice. And she doesn’t notice Roma, she looks somewhere over there, somewhere far inside.

 

KATYA. We are of one blood. You and I, no? I go up to everyone and ask that. Nobody has yet answered me – yes. Do you want to be the first? At home, all my flowers have dried up. There were all full of leaves, with large green leaves. But they’ve dried up, and I don’t know what to do. Don’t think I didn’t water them, I did what I needed to do, everything like in the old days. But they went and dried up, they could sense that something is missing from my life. They know that your reflection is missing from my eyes, your beautifultenderdear body, you. All of them went and completely died, down to their roots. They’re sticking out of their pots like mummies. They exist but they aren’t alive. You were going in parallel, yes? You’re clever, I wouldn’t love someone stupid. I love surprises. Right now the ceiling will split in two and hot air balloons will fly out. It’s stupid, no? Then champagne will pour out. Oh, is this actually…? Then I don’t know, then money will pour down. Or something that only you want. Let it be your simple pencils or those, I know you love them, small metal cars, models, that’s how they’re called, is that right? You agree. (She is silent for a long time). I want to give you the very best present, I want you to be the most happy person in the whole world. I don’t mind - everything can be awful for everyone else, everyone else can suffocate and die… if you could have everything. It’s disgusting – talking to the walls, I’m going to be sick. (She freezes, she breathes onto her hands).

 

ROMA. Why are you feeling sick? Maybe from my salads? They were fresh, I think. But why are you here? You had already left? Did you forget something?

 

KATYA. I’m drawn to anyone who I shouldn’t be drawn to, do you get it? We were playing together a long time ago, I was eight, somewhere in the south, in a cheap hotel. And there were two men there, they lived together. People said that they were gay. But I don’t remember now how I understood that word then. But I wondered why they were different, why everyone was laughing at them when they walked down the corridor and when into their room, because they just spent all their time watching television and laughing. And they didn’t go to discos. Those idiotic discos on the ground floor. They went for walks together and then went into their room.  And I watched them but I didn’t laugh with everyone else but, on the contrary, even, I remember, I defended them somehow. In the morning, everyone went to breakfast, everyone on that floor. But the toilets and sinks were at the opposite ends of the corridors – the men’s and women’s. And me and my parents lived on the right hand side, as it happened right next to the men’s toilet. And every morning me and mum went to the left side, and those two to the right side. And we met their glances. And one time I came out of the room and went into the men’s. I was a child, I thought that I could wash there, there’d be nothing wrong in that. Especially because first there’s the room with the sinks, and only further the toilets themselves. And I went in, and those two were standing there, washing. They immediately started joking – she’s a girl but with the boys. I even remember they turned on the water for me, made sure I got some warm water. And I was standing there, I couldn’t even squeeze the toothpaste out. I was so happy. And I always washed in the men’s toilet from that time on. Mum swore at me, at first, but then decided that I was just too lazy to go to the other side. And also one of the two, the one I liked most, he always cleaned his teeth a special way, he took the water in his mouth just once and spat it out. And that was all. I was surprised at first and then I decided to try it. One thing’s clear, it didn’t work at all, a whole load of toothpaste stayed in my mouth and my tongue was bitter. But I spat the water out, shut the tap and left.  And I put up with it until I had some tea at breakfast. And then they left, before us, their trip came to an end. And I was worried. And I found out that they were also from my town. And I wanted to go home as soon as possible. To them, I thought. And now I can’t even remember what height they were. Did she come?

 

ROMA. Not yet, but we’re waiting, the earth is the shape of a suitcase. I’m not sure, is it mocking us? It’s not turning out so creative, she’s already five hours late. No, but why are you here? It’s cold.

 

KATYA. I’m not. I remembered the tale of Kai and Gerda which you put on at the New Year. When the Snow Queen is walking alongside, everyone becomes cold and sad because of her. I’m getting warm.

 

ROMA (smoking). Am I the Snow Queen, then? Is it cold because of me? Or am I Kai and you’re Gerda?

 

KATYA. I’m definitely nobody.

 

ROMA. If you look for a long time at the lamp but then quickly to the side, it seems that there’s a lot of things which there actually aren’t. If I look at you for a long time, if I look at your face for a long time, then it can seem that I love you. Maybe it even seems like you’re the only person. But it wouldn’t be true. (He laughs). How is it that the earth is round – it has the shape of a suitcase. I’d best switch the light off.

 

KATYA. Do you remember, as children, we dreamt of taking a wire and stretching it across the road from your house to mine and attaching phones and talking all night, when we couldn’t sleep? We were stupid. (She is silent for a long time). I want everything to be my way, to be like magic, a miracle. All of life – a miracle. Miracles not to seem like miracles, do you understand me, no? You can take some coal and write any word on a coloured wall. A magic word.

 

ROMA. Please, yes? (He laughs).

 

KATYA. Love or death. Happiness or grief. Something from which my whole life, my whole being, from which everything - everything would change. I will write Love in capital letters and everyone will start to love me immediately. I will write Happiness, and my mum will get better and forget everything. But I won’t write Death, I’m not an idiot. But somebody will write it. There’s always somebody who wants death. Then I’ll take a brush, go to the wall and brush it off, each letter, each mark in that word. D, E, A, T, H. And then, then there won’t be death for me, there won’t be death for anyone. You understand what I’m talking about.

 

ROMA. I understand. I don’t want anyone to die, anyone in my life. Let them live eternally, let them all outlive me. I don’t want to see how they die, I don’t want to bury them. Nobody-nobody of mine has died yet. That’s why I don’t get animals, they would all die before me. I should write it on the wall, death. Then death would come and get me.

 

KATYA. We will write death in a square, and we will both cease to be. Because I also don’t want to see you. Not like that.

 

Katya turns away and runs down the stairs. She slams the door below. Katya walks along the street, crying. Because of the tears, everything in front of her eyes blurs and turns into something big and sad. It seems that this street does not exist, her whole world. Only despair remains.

 

KATYA. I will talk with myself, to someone who is beside me. I know you are watching me and frightening off evil things. You are the best thing, you are an angel or devil. Each day, I come back on this road, my building is the third one. The light from the window and the reflection from the trees on the asphalt, at night – the same and constant – that’s what meets me and waits for me, every day.

 

SCENE THREE

 

Sophia Petrovna is sleeping. She put her head on the table and fell asleep. Sveta and Roma sit on stools, rather close to one another. Sveta speaks quietly to start with, but when she understands that nothing will wake Sophia Petrovna, she talks loudly.

 

SVETA. You didn’t know? Everything revolves around you – the Indian Summer, the Indian summer shit, the earth has the shape of… She loved a man, Katya’s father, that is. If it’s not love, it’s an illness. And it seems he loved her. But he went and slept with someone else. Just being stupid, he was drunk, couldn’t even remember who with. The point is he came back in the morning and told her everything, honestly. She was already pregnant with Katya. It turned out she couldn’t. Forgive him. He pleaded, begged, threatened. Saying what about the their child. But she’s – nope. And she started saying to him – I love someone else. Can you imagine? She went crazy. She said – go to hell, or something like that. And at night she was crying – I love him, I love him. What happened after that – I don’t know. Katya was born, there were problems, this, that and the other, she wouldn’t meet him, or see him. And a year later, she found out that he’d stepped outside a window, from the eighth floor, slipped, it was slippery… End of story. There’s a small child but her mother’s lying around like an idiot. For her whole life. She gets better – seems to forget. Then some time passes and she remembers him again. He lived in the building opposite, across the road. His windows were opposite their windows. Every day he looked at their window, at the light in their windows, see? And he spied from around the corner how she pushed the pram from the building. Then his mother got a letter to Katya and the whole story’s in the details. It’s love, yes? Who needs your love?

 

ROMA. No, that’s just a word like any other. It was written on a wall with coal. It doesn’t exist. Just the letters. It’s just a beautiful shape.

 

Someone rings the bell. For ages. Sophia Petrovna bellows, opens her eyes, closes them and starts snoring. Roma sits, he doesn’t want to open the door. Silence.

 

ROMA. It’s become quiet. There’s something not natural about it. The silence is ringing.

 

SVETA. That’s because it’s time to go to bed. I’ll sleep in your kitchen. It’s too early to go home. Is that okay?

 

ROMA. I’ll go and check.

 

Roma opens the door. The window in the hallway is thrown wide open, the wind blows. The cold fills the hallway. The cold pushes its way through the open door into Roma’s flat. Sveta stands up, she’s also gone out into the hallway. Roma looks for a long time at the open window. He sees a bit of paper on the glass, someone has stuck it with gum. Roma tears it off and reads.

 

ROMA. A load of crap… Forgive me, my love has emptied me, I’m empty, I don’t want to live any more, however stupid or frightening that sounds. I won’t say anything bad about you, you’re – good, you’re – my beloved, always. Forgive me, but there’s nothing else I can do. (He turns round and see Sveta.) She threw herself out. I’m guilty, I suppose?

 

Roma goes over to the open window, wants to look down on to the asphalt. But suddenly it starts snowing, in floods. Roma shows out of the window: Happy Birthday to you!

 

SCENE FOUR

 

It’s very dark. Darkness. Walls, A flat. The square of a room, a corridor. Someone is moving, making their way through the darkness, through its unseen walls and railings. It’s her Mother. She sits on the door, looking for something in the dark. She gets up. She drops some jars and pans. She sits on the floor again and whispers.

 

MOTHER. I’ll come back to you, I’m coming, my love. You are the loveliest, you are the loveliest. Just wait for me, don’t go anywhere. I’m coming, then we can start everything again.

 

The mother crawls along on her knees. The darkness doesn’t allow her, it’s – her defence. But the Mother doesn’t need it, she’s already fed up of being alone. The Mother opens the drawer of the kitchen table, gets out a knife, sits on the floor and smiles. Light looks in through the window from outside, looks at the Mother. She hits her veins with the knife. She shouts. She climbs back into the room. The darkness takes her by the hand, puts her to bed and tucks her in and whispers – sleep.

 

An old lady comes over to Katya, a dry little old lady in a black dress, her eyes shine, fill with red blood. Katya looks around. She is standing in a shed, chicken are running around her, pecking seeds from the ground. The old lady bends down, takes a clump of earth and throws it at Katya, whispering something and spitting in her face, she laughs. She runs round Katya, like a chicken, she whispers, shouts. Or is she actually a chicken? Maybe this is all in Katya’s dream. She closes her eyes, opens them again. In front of her is a freshly dug grave, in the grave – an open coffin. Katya goes over to the edge of the grave, looks down, the old lady runs up behind and pushes Katya. Katya falls, and her body is now lying in the grave. The old lady takes the lid of the coffin, jumps, and puts candles in the coffin, matches, too, and starts to shut the coffin. Katya shouts, the old lady keeps hitting away with her hammer, laughing, cackling, like a chicken: ‘It’s fine, young one, lie down and you’ll come to your senses. Then you’ll even say thank you’. The old lady cleans the earth of the lid, it becomes clear that there are lots of holes in the lid. The old lady gets up from the grave, clambers up, and whispers: ‘It’s fine, you’ll lie for three days, and then everything will go away, you’ll forget to think about him, you’ll want to live.’

 

SCENE FIVE

 

The Mother and Little Girl are in a tram. The little girl looks out of the window, and sometimes at her mother.         

 

LITTLE GIRL. Are we there yet, mum? I’m going to fall asleep. Are we going to have lunch? Where are we going to? To grandma and grandpa?

 

MOTHER. Not lunch or dinner, it’s already evening. You have lunch in the day. And you won’t be having dinner because you’ve got a worm in your tummy. You licked your hand in the bus, it got in and you won’t be eating.

 

LITTLE GIRL. The worm’s in you. Are we going to grandpa’s to congratulate him on the day of veterans?

 

MOTHER. How did you congratulate the boys in kindergarten today?

 

LITTLE GIRL. We all sang songs, but I can’t remember which ones, I’m tired. Polina gave Kostya a car, and I gave Vova a wheel.

 

MOTHER. The wheel of a car?

 

LITTLE GIRL. No, don’t you know the wheels with buttons on, it beeps and flashes. We gave presents, that’s all. And the day after tomorrow there’s a concert, we’ve been given parts. We will become girls of our Monsterland.

 

MOTHER. No, you’ve remembered it wrong, you mean Motherland.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Yes, I know that anyway, you don’t have to tell me it’s Motherland, don’t argue with me, I know everything.

 

MOTHER. Well, fine then, I won’t tell you about anything ever again.

 

LITTLE GIRL. No, I know everything there is in the kindergarten, but I don’t know about anything else. Mummy, will I become a young adult soon, will you and me soon go to school?

 

MOTHER. Tell me a fairytale instead.

 

LITTLE GIRL. I know two – about a turnip and about a red hat. I’ll tell you about the turnip. A granddad planted a turnip. And what became of it? I can’t remember. Oh, it grew. Until it was a big-big turnip. The granddad pulled at it but couldn’t pull it out. He called the grandma, they couldn’t pull it out, they called their granddaughter, they still couldn’t, they called the dog, mum, which had a name. Zhuchka? They pull and pull, but they can’t pull it out. Then they call the catty, um, the cotty, um, the kitty. They pull and pull, but they can’t pull it out. They still can’t pull it out. They call the mouse and they pull it out. We will become the Motherland, we will go around and congratulate everyone. Mummy, do you want me to sing you a song? Petya went out to the meadow, he wanted to go for a walk. And on the way he met a cat – miaou. Petya was scared. Our cockerel fell ill, he’s lying in a soft bed. Over came the cat – it brought some swill, drink it, Petya, it’s healthy and sweet. Petya drank the swill, became healthy and strong. But I can’t remember any more. Are we there yet, mum?

 

The Mother and the Little Girl are in the shop, in the shoe department.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Mummy, how am I going to walk around in white dress, it’ll get dirty. Grandmother said we should get a dark one.

 

MOTHER. First of all, it’s not white, it’s reddish-white, and second of all, don’t listen to grandmother, she’s old and doesn’t understand anything.

 

LITTLE GIRL. No, she said – a dark one, buy me that one, the black one.

 

MOTHER. No, a black dress isn’t beautiful, you’re a little girl, everything on you should be beautiful.

 

LITTLE GIRL. They’ll spoil and then we’ll throw them out.

 

MOTHER. And we’ll buy new ones. Don’t worry.

 

The Mother puts the Little Girl to bed.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Mummy, did you know that aunty Masha ate a child? I wanted her to lift me high, high up, I wanted to play with her. But she said, I can’t play with you any more because I’m heavy. And I asked her, are you ill, aunty Masha, does your head hurt? But she said – no, my child is ill, he’s sitting in my tummy. Mummy, she ate him Mummy, how can he live there? It’s dark there.

 

MOTHER. Don’t talk rubbish, time to sleep.

 

LITTLE GIRL. Mummy, will she let him out soon?

 

SCENE SIX   

 

An Indian summer is a process of photosynthesis, transforming energy hitting the earth from the sun’s radiation into a series of chemical reactions. It normally remains in vegetation in the form of warmth or is conserved in the earth’s crust in deposits of coal. The process of photosynthesis occurs with the help of absorption by coloured pigments, and more than anything chlorophyll.

 

Morning. Katya, Sveta and Roma sit at the table and eat. A sleepy-looking Sophia Petrovna comes out of a room.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Listen, Romik, would you put on Mozart and Salieri for us. For me and Sveta. I’d like to be Salieri. Will you put it on? You’re a director, you can do it. And we will act in it, don’t worry about that. Katya will sew some costumes, and make the scenery. Everything will have a place. The main thing is there’s a stage.

 

ROMA. I don’t like Pushkin’s plays, I’m sorry.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. You could make an effort for us, huh? You’ve even got a sign on the wall at home – a model home. You should be a role-model, you should do only nice things for women. Do you even know what it is – to be a real man? It’s when you can say to yourself – stop it, I mustn’t touch that lady.

 

ROMA. I don’t owe anything to anyone, except my mother for giving birth to me. We used to dig in the collective farm for potatoes every day. And the girls’ backs hurt. I’d go at night to them in their tent and step on their backs. It helped. And they always shouted. And everyone thought – there’s love going on there. With me and them, in other words. And I also liked to think so. I was young. It was even quite funny. And there they were in the field and behind them the recent school-leavers, but they couldn’t keep up physically. They were digging potatoes and crying. Their damp faces in the dirt. But we laughed – that type of happiness can’t be found in potatoes, you know.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. But have we, you know… missed work?

 

SVETA. It’s horribly cold outside, minus something or other. They cancelled work. It’s like a freezer in the Palace of Culture, people’s hands dropping off, children freezing to death etc.

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. Maybe, we should start to rehearse then, play around with the text.

 

ROMA. I’m not feeling up to it.

 

KATYA (suddenly). There wasn’t any girl. It was Svetka who brought the photo, she got it from someone. It’s a mythical person. It’s a place of ritual burial from the iron age. You won’t dig anything else up, Roma.

 

Roma turns to Sveta. He looks at her. He laughs for a long time.

 

ROMA. I was a Small prince and died in 1944. And in another life I was a gangster and died in a bank robbery. Now I’m living my third life, I won’t get another. And I want to be the first person who’s buried on Mars. And if tomorrow when you wake up and it’s dark everywhere, you can be certain that it’s me who sunk the town in gloom.

 

KATYA. My mum got better. Today she prepared breakfast herself. We ate together. I had already forgotten – how that can actually happen. 

 

SOPHIA PETROVNA. I bought some Easter cakes, last Easter, for about four hundred roubles. But why I did it – I don’t know myself. They were beautiful. I came home, my son was furious, there was no money left. But I felt good, happy. Do you know the three magic ‘R’s? Reanimation, rehabilitation, relaxation. That’s how you should always live. And then you’ll have everything. I was frightened. Drunk. And I heard everything. I also thought you had died, Katka. Someone was having a laugh. My granny was at death’s door, far away, in another town.  I can’t remember her at all, it was a long time ago, when I was a child. She said – hang her portrait up above my bed, on that wall. My portrait. She missed me. They hung it up. She turned away from them and died, just like that, looking at me. 

 

SVETA. Don’t be upset, Rom. I did it out of love, sorry, that I tricked you, but I wanted to be with you. We all wanted to be with you. You wouldn’t have begun to notice otherwise, wouldn’t even have wanted to see us. I mean, we work together and live side by side, but we don’t ever meet, actually. It’s not right. You can’t live like that. All ill comes from indifference. And all illnesses, too. When you don’t give a damn, then the world’s the same back to you, God as well, all sorts of forces.

 

ROMA (laughing). What are you talking about, Sveta, I don’t need anyone, I only need you (about them all). It’s true, though, no? Don’t think I don’t care about you. No. I just forgot that I have people to care about… Продолжение »