День, когда рухнул мир - страница 9

I had not noticed that Kenje had fallen asleep. I put a saddle under her head and joined the old men who had settled themselves at some distance at another camp-fire and their voices only reached me in snatches while I had been talking to Kenje. I approached their fire, added several dry branches to it and sat down next to my grandfather. The old men were carried away by their discussion and did not take any notice of me. «Somewhere here, in a well, lies the unburied body of Shakarim,» said Arkham and everyone fell silent.

I knew a great number of poems by Shakarim by heart, but my grandfather had forbidden me to recite them. «Learn them, but be silent until it is time,» he instructed me. «When they rehabilitate him, then you will speak. The time will come…»

At that time it did not occur to me that even at the mention of Abai and Shakarim, people were sent to Siberia, to the land where, according to a Kazakh turn of phrase, «they ride on dogs». Just for mentioning their names…

«Our Otegen knows where that well is located. But he will remain silent, after all he is a man of the government,» said Duisekhan.

«As Allah is my witness, how could I know this?» swore Otegen. «I don’t know anything.»

«Perhaps it is true that he doesn’t know anything,» voiced doubt the other old men.

«Indeed, perhaps you, too, don’t know anything. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how he served in the local NKVD and would not part with his ‘cannon’!» said Duisekhan angrily, once again turning to Otegen. «And at that time, I suppose you thought – murder the old man, and that’s the end of it? Oh no, the spirit of the great poet is haunting to this day these ravines at night like the shadow of a snow leopard…»

Otegen, offended, got up, tightened his lips and disappeared into the darkness. The old men broke into smiles. And to this day I fail to understand why they were not afraid to hold such discussions. Or… or did they live in the hope that their old age would serve as an excuse?

Or did the half-witted Duisekhan suspect that incriminating him was pointless; and to those around him he was like a living corpse anyway. To this day, I do not know whether he was ashamed of this or deep down people’s defects amused him. He himself was invulnerable, free and clean before Allah, and evidently understood it. He openly said what he thought Of course, Otegen, who avoided Duisekhan as much as possible, had to endure more than anyone. Everyone knew that the death of Duisekhan’s older brother in a far-off Siberian prison was at the hands of Otegen. In the twenties, his other brother, together with a group of dare-devils, escaped to China…

I lay my head on my grandfather’s lap and fell asleep. A threatening ghost of a terrifying snow leopard appeared to me in my dreams. The ghost hung threateningly over me, coming closer and closer. «Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid of me,» suddenly whispered the ghost in a human voice. «It will be difficult for you, little one, but you will endure. Remember, remember everything, my son! Remember, remember, remember! For a time will come which will compel you to reveal the truth to the world, the bitter truth of what you saw…»

Greenish sparks poured from his eyes. The snow leopard patted me on the shoulder with his front paw. In an instant he was gone.

But when I awoke, shivering from the coolness of the morning, and began to rub my shoulders with my palms, I suddenly noticed that on my left arm there were fresh long scratches. «The snow leopard! They are his claw marks!» flashed across my mind. «But how is it possible? It wasn’t a day-dream. I was asleep and just woke up. How, how is it possible?»