Two Suns. Дмитрий Наринский
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The establishment of the opulent Public Library, the first in Henichesk, became a noteworthy event that drew both approval and discontent from the local press and bazaar-goers alike. Some questioned the abundance of books, arguing that the Torah was enough.
«Oh, Yakov, do you want your son to be a nar (fool) like Moysha, who only knows how to chase pigeons and cats?» His wife reminded him of the foolish offspring of the Winklevich family, adding with a chuckle, «And besides, with the streets being paved that year, would you also say our son has a heart of stone?»
Before Yakov could respond to his wife, young Mark had another question. «What is a library?» he inquired. And then, without pause, he asked, «Is there really such a thing as a heart of stone?»
«A library is a place filled with many books,» Father tried to be patient, eager to bring the never-ending conversation to a close. «And a heart of stone is an expression used for children who lack empathy and torment their parents with incessant questions.»
Little Anna, the younger sister, stood up for her beloved brother. «Mark is good!» she declared, not fully grasping the nuances of the conversation but sensing the changes in her father's tone. Mark, the restless and inventive elder brother, was her hero. He was the best in the world to her, and in return, he cherished his little sister tenderly.
In general, everything was going well for the Maretsky family. They lived harmoniously, not wealthy but not impoverished either. In a port city, only the indolent or inebriated would become destitute, but Yakov was diligent, astute, healthy, and robust – qualities essential in his line of work.
However, the Civil War did not merely sweep through Henichesk – it nearly obliterated it. The small port in the Melitopol district, situated on the outskirts of Crimea, faced attacks from all sides: shelled by armored trains on the railroad, visited by every faction fighting in Ukraine. The destruction inflicted gaping wounds on its streets, and sorrow and fear permeated the homes of its inhabitants.
Of course, the residents were resourceful people; they sought refuge in local catacombs and stockpiled food to outwit Germans, Whites, Reds, Greens, and other punitive detachments. These ancient dungeons concealed secret passages that baffled outsiders, but the boys, forbidden from going near the catacombs due to their former use by smugglers, still managed to learn and explore a lot. Mark, naturally curious, couldn't resist involvement in such significant matters, yet attentive parents promptly put an end to his attempts, ensuring he didn't partake in unsafe underground exploration. Disobeying was out of the question.
However, strangely enough, the real catastrophe struck in 1921, after the Civil War in the South had already ended. Henichesk seemed destined to never recover: plagued by typhus, subject to shootings by the Cheka, and plunged into a terrible famine. A famine in a land known for its abundance of bread, a place that had grown into a city thanks to its flourishing grain trade…
No one believed it, even though gradually the townspeople were transitioning back to peaceful life. But the prospects had dried up here, and supplies were depleting after enduring so many pogroms and requisitions…
Recalling the horrors he had endured, Yakov suspected that his wife's sudden and puzzling illness was a result of the endless searches and threats they had faced. The walls of their once-reliable house now seemed inadequate to protect the family.
Perhaps, that's why he found himself agreeing with his daughter when she spoke about leaving. Anna observed with eagerness as those who had held the town together departed Henichesk, one by one.
«Daddy, everyone is leaving from here,» her voice trembled, «I wish we could go to Kharkov, too. There's a new Ukrainian capital and real life there now.»
«Eh, what kind of life is real, daughter?»
«I don't know. It's just… there, not here.»
A lump formed in his throat. Amid the daily struggles for survival and Maria's health, he had overlooked this despair. He glanced at his son – serious and silent. Understanding his father's unspoken question, he simply nodded. And who could doubt it? These two were always on the same page.
Yes, I should have made up my mind long ago. He pulled Anna closer, rubbed his son's shoulder.
«Well, if we're going to the capital, we're going to the main one!»
«Daddy!»
«Oh, tsores…» Maria sighed.
«Why the distress, Mom?» Mark asserted confidently. «There are good doctors there too.»
Mark adored Henichesk, just as children hold dear everything associated with the earliest and brightest years of their lives. It was astonishing how much this small town encompassed! The bustling, colorful bazaar gave way to the tranquility of the new embankment, where composed locals strolled, and the hush of a narrow street with soft dust underfoot abruptly yielded to the lively bustle of the central «avenue.» The port's incessant hum, where carts rattled on the flooring day and night, barges rumbled, and movers shouted, retreated before the serene calm of the deserted Arabat Arrow.
In this place, the feeling of crowdedness and confined space, so often found in many provincial towns, simply dissolved, for on all sides lay vast expanses! On one hand, the boundless water surface, and on the other, an endless steppe. The air carried not just scents but also tastes, where the salty sea freshness mingled with the aroma of steppe grasses. Mark, naturally observant, had ample time to notice all the subtleties and nuances, the shifting moods and ever-changing aspects of nature as he ran errands for his parents or wandered with his friends.
Perhaps, it was the diversity of Henichesk that had a significant impact on shaping his character. However, it also meant that he was destined to outgrow his hometown, feeling the urge to explore beyond its limits.
Of course, Mark supported his sister's desire to leave Henichesk. What prospects awaited him in this town? The grueling toil at the port, assisting his father on commercial trips, or, in the best case, working for the Bersovs – his grandfather Zeide wouldn't refuse his only daughter's son – with the potential of becoming a storekeeper. However, firstly, these options held little appeal for the inquisitive young man. Secondly, they seemed to fade away on their own. Despite the bright memories of his childhood, the impressions of the harsh years weighed heavily on his future.
Mark couldn't yet precisely articulate what he aspired to do. Initially, he entertained the idea of joining the navy, but he had witnessed its less glamorous aspects since childhood and realized that there was little romance in the navy. Then, a completely different realm captured his imagination.
Over the years, Mark had repeatedly observed airplanes circling above the city and the sea, sailing gracefully through the sky with their engines moderately humming or pouncing fiercely like hungry seagulls, dropping deadly cargo. Sometimes, he received reprimands for his hesitance, being told to hurry to the basement for safety. Instead of hiding, he tried to watch each aircraft closely. Those were remarkable days, as various models soared through the sky: Voisins, Farmans, Nieuports, Sopwiths, and more.
Once, Mark had the extraordinary luck of witnessing an airplane with a truly enormous wingspan. At the time, he didn't know its name, Ilya Muromets, but it left a lasting impression on his imagination. Excitedly describing it to his friend Sergei, Mark exclaimed, «It's huge! The wings! The rumble it made was so loud, I could feel the vibrations inside me!» He gestured vigorously, trying to imitate СКАЧАТЬ