ART-ZINE REFLECT

REFLECT... КУАДУСЕШЩТ # 27 ::: ОГЛАВЛЕНИЕ

Arystarch KIRSCH. WHITE NIGHTS

aвтор визуальной работы - Merche

[Fragment from novel "ZENIA! RUN AWAY! RUN!"]

White Nights

Gulag, Siberia, the Soviet Union
February 12, 1942, 2:01 am

It was was dark around, only the reflection of snow, from the outside and a dim, red light, of glowing coal in the stove, lit the room. The clock, just rang 2 o'clock at night. Zenia was laying on her back, looking at the up-side-down portraits. She always thought that up-side-down Stalin, looked just like a right-side-up baby rabbit. She counted the wholes and cracks on the ceiling above her, just like she did so many times before... Some time ago she used to count the seconds of these nights, but than, she was mad at herself if it took any longer than usual, so she stopped all together.
The best was, when he was totally drunk, passing-out on her. She would struggle for a moment to push him off of her and run back to the barracks. A few times he was so drunk that, before passing out, he vomited or even urinated, all over her and himself. She didn't mind! Not at all! she was happy to be able to get away easily.
Commandant reeked heavily of samogon (moonshine), bad teeth, old sweat, onions and cheap tobacco. It was hard to decide, which one of these smells, was more offensive. Like so many times before, he was crashing her with, all two hundred and some pounds, of his crude body and like so many times before, she was just waiting for him to finish, whatever he was doing to her. She just wanted to go back and be with the rest of kids. This was the finale, and by now, her face was covered in his sweat, saliva, and sperm.
Finally he was done. He rolled off, of the top of her and became motionless. His heavy breathing was slowing down. He laid there quietly for some time. Zenia hopped, he was falling asleep. She was happy it was over. After a long moment of silence, suddenly, he spoke: "I love you Zenia!" She froze. This was all new to her. He never said anything, even remotely, similar to this before. Silence followed again and than he continued: " I want you to love me too! What do you say?" She was laying quietly, her body was violated and now he wanted to violate her soul. "What do you say Zenia?" he insisted.
"Something must have happen to him" she thought. She didn't like the sound of it. She was scared and didn't know how to react. She was repulsed! Her body wasn't enough anymore he was going for her soul now. She didn't say anything, she just wanted to go back to the barracks crawl into her box and forget about it all.
He was starting to get slightly impatient. He sat up on the bed and looked at her. "Didn't you hear what I've said? I love you!" She had to answer now, her voice was very faint: "I've heard you." He wasn't happy with her answer: "There is more..." he paused to look at her: "... not only I love you... but I want marry you too!" Zenia didn't say a word. Now she was completely terrified.
He moved closer to her, his face hung right above hers. He looked straight in her eyes and said: "Listen Zenia! I am serious! I just realized, that you are the only woman, I have ever loved! I just realized this tonight! I am so happy that I can tell you this!. I am very serious! Ah! I am so excited! I could shout! I am so happy! I could sing, I could dance! We will dance on our wedding soon, if you only say one word! From now on, I will treat you like a real princess, I will love you, like nobody ever would! I am sorry for all you went through, none of it will never happen again. I will protect you and your siblings! I promise! From now on, you will be the one calling the shots! You'll be my lady! I swear! Now it will be just you and me! Please love me now! kiss me and be my woman! Just like it was meant to be! ONLY mine! Just mine! I don't want anybody else neither! Never! I just want you!" She remained silent, paralyzed by her fear, scarred to think, what comes next.
He waited for a while, then went on again: "So... what is it going to be Zenia? Are you going to be my wife? The commandant's wife?! The Red Army officer's wife?! The Soviet Union Hero's wife?! Are you going to make love to me?" He paused again, smiled, and added in a softer voice: "Did you noticed? I've said 'make love!' Not 'fuck!' Make love!" Yes Zenia! I don't want to fuck you anymore, I want us to make love! Because I love you! My queen! My goddess!" Zenia knew she couldn't stall any longer. She looked at his face for a few seconds, he was grinning happily and didn't even breathe in suspense. When their eyes met, he smiled and asked softly: "So what do you say... Zeniushka?" She looked straight in his eyes... and... surprising and terrifying herself, she spat in his face... She didn't plan it, not even for a second. It was involuntary, compulsive and completely beyond her control.
His grin disappeared slowly. He sat there for a moment without saying a word. He didn't even wipe his face off. Then he moved. Very, very slowly, he rolled over, extended his arm towards the chair where his uniform was, opened the holster, and took his revolver out.
Zenia wasn't scared for herself... she was mortified for her siblings! This man's evil was endless and unpredictbl, she knew that he was capable of an unimaginable horror. She started to repeatedly pray in her mind "God! please don't let him hurt them! Please let him just shoot me instead! Please! Please! God! This is the last thing I will ever ask you for! Till the end of my life! I promise! Till my last breath, even if I was to die this very second! Let him shoot me! Let him shoot me! Let him shoot me! Please! Dear God!
Without saying a single word, very slowly, very precisely, almost methodically, commandant put the gun right underneath one of her breasts. She could smell it; she felt the cold, hard, metal of the barrel and the drum on her skin... It was pressing against her ribs, hurting her already. It was very, very cold, like a breath of death... She was suspended in anticipation of coming pain. Inside her head she was still praying intensely: "Please God, let him shoot me! Please let him shoot me! Please let him soot me! Please let him shoot me! God! Please! Please! Please! Let it be me! Please! Please!"
He spoke again: "I am going to ask you one more time" he paused for a few seconds, swallowed, than lower his voice and asked again, pronouncing each word carefully: "Will you, Zenia, accept to be my beloved wife?" She was scared to death, but the only thing, she could bring herself to do, was to spit in his face again...and again... "Please God let him shot me! Please God let him shoot me! Please God let him shoot me! Please God let him shoot me! Please God let...."
First she felt the drum moving, almost tickling her for a split second, then, the loud sound broke the silence, like a thunder, deafening her. The flash of the explosion lit his face, making him look like a devil. Entire room filled with the smell of a gunpowder, her blood splashed on the wall behind them. The bullet went through her breast. She didn't feel any pain yet, just a warmth of the blood, on her chest.. She closed her eyes and repeated in her mind: "Thank you God! Thank you God! Thank you!"... There was no sound coming out of her mouth.
She looked straight at him, frozen, but not scared anymore. He seemed strangely calm. Her blood spotted his face. A shadow of an evil smile, was hiding in the corners of his lips... He moved the gun to the other hand and, again, so very slowly, so precisely, like an old experienced surgeon, using an instrument, put the gun under her other breast. He asked again: "So, Zenia, how about now? Will you accept to be a wife of the Red Army hero!?" She looked at him. She could already feel the burning pain now. Their eyes met for a second then she spat again... and again... and again... until another bullet stopped her...
He didn't scream right away, instead, he slowly said: "Now, little bitch, go where you came from and thank The Soviet Union for sparing your fucking life! You just insulted and spat in the face of the Red Army officer! A hero! You just spat in the face of the entire Red Army! I should execute you right now, right here, in this spot! You're nothing but the enemy! The contr-revolutionary! You... you... you" he was getting emotional trying to find a right words "... you... you... you spread the anti-Soviet propaganda!"
He was getting louder now: "Instead, I am going to spare your miserable, fucking, life... even though you don't deserve it! You little whore! Do you think I didn't notice how you loved when the commissar fucked you, up your fucking ass, that night? The way you wiggled it? I've seen it all! You liked it! You loved it! Didn't you? You little slut! I know what I did wrong! I was too gentle with you! I didn't fuck you, like those suites did! And now, this is the way, you pay me back... for my good heart?! You little whore! Just wait! This is all going to change now! You'll see! You'll see! You little, dirty, Polish, whore! Now go! Get the fuck out of here, before I change my mind and waste another bullet on your brain!".
Clutching a dirty shirt to her chest, she ran outside, into the cold, Siberian night, completely naked, covered in blood. It really hurt now. She walked as if she was drunk, falling every few steps. She was becoming weaker and weaker, every second. The snow cracked under her bare feet but she didn't hear it, she didn't even feel the freezing cold. She could steal hear his screams behind: "...you little whore! You so deserved it! But watch out! This isn't the end! This is just a beginning! When I am done with you, you little whore, you'll wish I killed you tonight! Trust me!" You'll wish you were never born! She could hear his evil laughter...
She whispered over and over: "Oh, dear, sweet God! Thank you, sweet God! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you sweet, dear God!"
Zenia reached the barrack and opened the door. She dropped her shirt and stood there for a few seconds, completely naked, covered in blood, leaning against the frame, with both of her hands. She could see scared little eyes shinning in the dark. Then she collapsed. She could only hear her little sister's scream: "Zenia!" Her lips still moved: "Thank you God! Thank you God! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you...." nobody heard her.

Chicago USA
September 23, 1981, 10:12 am

There was an electrical storm outside. The loud thunder just passed, still echoing... again... and again... and one more time, from afar. It was the strangest storm, the kind, I have never seen before. There wasn't a single drop of rain, just lightning and a thunder. Sky was dark and angry, but it wasn't crying. The sky was angry, raging like a wild beast, but there were no tears of rain coming down.
Aunt Zenia was quiet again, silently smoking a cigarette. My entire body wanted to jump out of it's own skin, but all I could do, was just sit there and wait for her to continue. I didn't comment on what she said. I never did. I didn't try to encourage her to talk. I couldn't bring myself to ask any questions... or even to look at her. All I could do, was to silently look out the window, in an anticipation of the first, large, over-due, drops, to fall. They never came.
Someone told me once, about the incident they had witnessed, a year or so before. One evening, aunt Zenia was invited to attend some official dinner party. After dessert and cocktails were served, a heated conversation had broken out at the tbl. A few, young, eloquent 'intellectuals,' were loudly defending the communism and some of them, were especially impressed, with the achievements and an entire concept of the Soviet Union.
Aunt Zenia sat quietly, carefully listening, to every word being said. She waited patiently, until it became, a praising monologue, of one of the young zealots. Then, calmly, with her heavy, almost French, accent, she interrupted him: 'If you allow me, young man, and you, ladies and gentleman, I'd like to make a little presentation, to illustrate, a very tiny portion, of what this particular political system, is capable of."
She stood up, unbutton her blouse, pushed up her bra, and showed astonished audience, the four large scars on her chest. She said: "Wheat you see here, are the scars the Soviet bullets had left, a long time ago. These used to be an entry and an exit wounds. Let me use them, to explain to you, young man, how this system really works!" She paused and pointed her finger to one of her breasts. She wasn't crying, but her throat was already filled with tears, making her speaking increasingly difficult. She was shaking: "this one shows how they enter you..." than she moved her finger above: "...and this one shows how they leave you... if you lucky enough, to still be alive"...

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