Shoot `em Up! By Basa Janikashvili Extract
The Lodgers
My son and I usually walk from the lakeside together. My husband remained in Tbilisi. He works there. He comes up on Saturdays, bringing a week's food. We have been living in Rustavi for two years. We... that sounds impressive. My husband and I have not been we for more than two years. We have become strangers. We bought a small cottage in Sioni. Oh, that we again… We have not decided to get divorced yet. The house stands in a cortile, a large enclosure with a great number of senseless shacks. The neighbors walk to and fro, up and down… yet one fine day you realize that in the eyes of other neighbors it’s you who walks to and fro, up and down… and you seem to be boring and indistinguishable. Even your own self bothers you, and you go on walking to and fro, up and down… What can I tell you? My child and I spent the holidays in a room with an iron bedstead. My husband, as I’ve already said, works. The bed is so large that I think it's much more important than any lodger arriving to Sioni I often think (I have nothing else to do here) that all dacha beds have strange peculiarity. They are all too large as compared to the rooms where they’re placed. The neighbors walk to and fro, up and down… and I join the merry-go-round dance called holidays. "But Sioni is a lake resort as well as a mountain one. How do you amuse yourself?" "We take our daily bath in the lake. When it rains, there’s no entertainment. I read magazines. My Giviko reads too. Fairly speaking, I can’t read with zeal. The neighbors walk so much that I become confused and my ears hurt. Why on earth did we buy the hut? My husband and I haven’t been on holiday together since we bought it. Everything has changed. The lake and the mountain air…but the place lacks the main thing. One must be resourceful to call the place a dacha. I haven’t the slightest idea how long all that can last… Why are you looking at me like that?!" "You said that the place lacks the main thing. What did you mean?" "Do I need to answer all the questions?"
The Darchias
August is the month of wars and holidays. That year some people were at war, others were on holiday. I’ll tell you a story about a small family from Rustavi that took place before the 2008 Russo-Georgian war. What can one say about Guram Darchia, the head of the family? Guram Darchia is in his early forties. He’s an ordinary man working for a magazine. It’s his job to being at home and letting his imagination run away with him. He thinks he can’t afford sitting at home or dreaming. That’s why he’s forced to seek shelter in a noisy editorial office and to try to find his inspiration within the walls that are overloaded with posters. His articles are notable for his special style and that's what makes him so upset. His wife cares neither about his style, nor his flights of wit nd subtle humor. Guram thinks that at home he has neither understanding, nor any conditions to workHe is sure no one pays attention to him in the family.He is irritated when strangers compliment him for his articles and his wife doesn’t even read them. His office is in Tbilisi, former Engels Street 3, now called Asatiani Street. It's an old, almost ruined house where the editorial office takes up the ground floor. Guram Darchia edits the sports page. He has two volunteer assistants who never work for more than three months. No, Guram Darchia is not a difficult man. It’s just that the honoraria allotted for the sports page are rather low. That’s why Guram Darchia runs a sportswriters’ workshop, where good-for-nothing young people come to work. Nevertheless, Guram Darchia is glad to combine writing interesting articles with training beginners. Vera Kekelidze is Guram’s wife. They got married twelve years ago, when they were both very young, and every time there is a family conflict, they wish they hadn’t made this big mistake. However, they have been standing by each other for twelve years already. Many of their nearest and dearest, as well as neighbors, have already been divorced and have started many new relationships with other people. Their son is the only child in the family. Who is Vera Kekelidze? A housewife. If you stare at her, you’ll see that sh’s a few years younger than Guram. She’s a true wife, like all Georgian wives, often complaisant and resigned to her husband... Often, but not always… Do you wonder what her beauty rules are? No. one: she's got the leftover historical dignity; No. two: her being demure; and No. three: inattentiveness. Her husband is fed up with these three traits. In his opinion, the main problems of Georgian wives are their historic dignity, complaisance and inattentiveness. Sure, Vera Kekelidze does not believe it’s true. She thinks her husband can’t understand her. Their ten-yearold son, Giviko, is the foundations of their family. If it were not for him, they would have been in ruins a long time ago. Family friends say that Giviko is smarter than his parents. This pleases his father. Giviko is fond of football and painting. He also loves nature. Giviko is a truly sensible and obedient son.
But sometimes he happens to be obstinate, though he never plays pranks. Giviko has many friends, and in his opinion his parents are lazy because they don’t want to give him a brother. Giviko loves his future brother very much. The baby’s name varies each month, depending on the name of the friend Giviko likes at that time. Giviko subconsciously knows that he's the only one able to bring his parents together. That's why I call him the foundations of the family.
Curriculum Vitae 2 Who's Zumut Tumezovich Izmailov? He’s a victim of political repression, former pensioner and a grand-child. Zumut had a difficult childhood like almost all the children of the same age. His father was a well-known revolutionary in Petersburg. The man was said to be a very good person. His grey hair and sky blue eyes made him look like a German. Zumut’s mother used to say that his father was as flexible as a horse. The man turned out to have killed two clergymen. He threw the bodies into a river from a bridge. That’s why he had to escape from his home village and hide in Petersburg. The revolution came in time and Zumut’s father became a Cheka official. Later on Stalin shot his father and exiled his mother to Kazakhstan. Let’s return to Zumut. Zumut was born in a train. He was brought up in Akmolinsk together with the children of other repressed people. He was seven years old, when his mother died. Zumut was taken to an orphanage. As soon as the World War II was over, young Zumut entered a military school and become an excellent student of the Aviation School of Astrakhan. His real kindergarten combat took place in Afghanistan. There witnessed the expansion of the Soviet troops from a plane. Zumut's first love affair had a tragical outcome. His first wife was run over by a train. He did not mourn for her long, for the military discipline had already taught him how to stiffen his spirit. After a few years he got married again. He has a son and a grand-son. His second grandchild was going to be born the day the man was sent to Georgia. Zumut Tumezovich has been pensioned off for fifteen years. He lectured at the Aviation institute of Moscow. He often has to stand at the control column of a fighter to teach his students. It was not a surprise for him to be notified to join the military reserve. He was upset not to have the opportunity to be there when the baby would be given birth. Before leaving to fulfill his military mission, he asked the family to name the newborn after him in case he would not come back and no matter whether the baby was going to be a boy or a girl. It was a joke. Zumut Tumezovich was sure that the military operation against Georgia was a mere stunt performed to frighten Americans. He thought he would be back soon. He dreamt of a
furlough and a visit to his native Tatarstan to see his family. If he does not come back, his last will will be necessarily fulfilled. Nikolai Fyodorovich Simak. He is a middle-aged man, a warrior with a broad experience. Little Kolya was brought up by his grand-father. His parents died during the World War II in Stalingrad bombardments. August 22, 1942, a day earlier the fascists bombed the city, he was sent to his granny living in Lipetsk. As you know, the fascists did not bomb Lipetsk for the majority of Wehrmacht pilots had got their honorary titles of pilots in the city. It turned out to be hard for German pilots to bomb the families of their friends. That's how Kolya was saved. Kolya Simak stood on the Metallurgists Street, in the center of Lipetsk, looking with his friends at German low-flying attack aircrafts traversing the sky freely. People in Lipetsk knew that there's history besides all commands. He will never forget those planes. That day Kolya realized that it's the most honorable thing to be a pilot. Nikolai Fyodorovich has a wife and three children. His first child is thirty-five years old, the second son is thirty, and the third one is twenty-nine. The eldest son is an aviator like his father. He serves at Lipetsk Airbase. The second son is a musician. He lives in Moscow and plays in a rock group. The third son is an engineer at the Iron-Working Plant of Lipetsk. Nikolai's wife is a music teacher, honored pedagogue at the musical ten-year School. Nikolai Fyodorovich has been pensioned off for five years. Nevertheless, because of the Russo-Georgian war he was required to return to service. I can’t say that he was glad to accept the offer. It was him who granted a lot of bombs to the land of Georgia. In 1992, while bombing Sukhumi he recognized the hotel where he liked to spend holidays together with his wife and kids. It was not easy to bomb the city, but he still executed the order. He absolutely understood those Wehrmacht pilots. Nikolai Fyodorovich is the fifth pilot who had fallen a victim of the pebbles thrown by Giviko.
The Hot Barrel 2
Another report made Guram start again. "Let me have a shot, let me! You promised!" Giviko couldn’t settle down. Vera blew out the barrel like Clint Eastwood. "Why did you promise? Can a little boy play with a gun?" Vera did not like the idea. "He is a man and he’s fond of arms", Guram tried to put himself right with her. He took the gun from Vera. Giviko did not let him utter a word. The boy snatched the Colt out of his father’s
hands. Giviko came running up to the first pilot, calling " Вот, если не могу слезть1" and shot right in his temple. Nikiforov Anatoli Giorgievich rolled on the ground unexpectedly. "You made it!" His son’s boldness made Guram really glad. "That’s enough!" screamed Vera. She ran after Giviko. The boy ran up to the fourth pilot and fired a shot from the pistol with a cock in the pilots neck. Zumut Tumezovich Izmailov heaved a groan. He had no time to thank the boy. It was a momentary death. Giviko stood at Izmailov’s head. " Я не мальчуган!2 " he said on the top of everything. However, the pilot couldn’t hear him. His soul had just started its forty-day journey. Guram was the first one to dash to Giviko. Now Guram snatched the gun from the boys hands and stroke him on the head. "Are you out of your mind?" Vera saved Giviko from a kick. She put him against her breast and gave the man a sign with her eyes not to hit. Giviko started sobbing. " It’s my pistol", whispered the boy on his mother's knees. Guram played with the pistol taken from the boy for a moment. He stepped to the last guest alive and put the gun against him. " Прощай, друг Боря3", said Guram mournfully and shot. Boris Ivanovich Surkatov fell down with a smile on his face. The family stood silent looking down at the killed pilots.
The Codename "Dacha"
The night had already fallen. Birds, wasps, frogs and gnats were all silent. Giviko's hiccups were the only thing breaking the silence. Now he had nothing in common with the terrible magician making fireworks in the sky over Sioni. Like a little man he was clinging to his mother’s knees with his shoulders slouched. Far, far away, maybe in the vicinity of Gori, attackers were flying in the sky easily. People had come out of their houses, vainly trying to remind the pilots that there’s history besides all commands. "What if I clear away tomorrow?" Guram did not answer Vera. It was all the same, for she’d still clear away the next day. "I think they were pleased". Vera seemed to be even more pretty in the moonlight. "I served them with everything I had". She knew she was observed. 1 2 3
If I can’t get down. I am not a laddie! Good-bye, my friend, Borya!
"No, the party was really good". He found Vera’s hand in the darkness. He felt her palm with his fingers and patted it. Giviko saw them and stopped hiccupping. "You did not touch anything", said Vera. She looked at Giviko, trying to hide her shyness. "I patrolling", said the son proudly. "Teach the kid how to speak Georgian at least", Vera freed her hand in a bashful manner, "I'll clear away tomorrow. I'm too tired... Go to bed now and don't wander". Vera came in. She stepped out in a couple of minutes and disappeared behind the house. She had a flash in her hand. There was a facility in the end of the yard. The father and his son were left alone. The man got back to the table. He sat down on one of the chairs and took his boy onto his knees. "What was that?" he gave the question to himself, rather than to the boy. "What, dad?" "I’m a bit drunk", he thrust his hand into the pocket of his trousers to take some cigarettes out of it. He found some pills there. He looked all over the pills for a while and put them on the table. Then he started to feel for cigarettes in another pocket and finally took one out of it. He lit the cigarette and smoked. "I don't like you taking it", it was impossible to make it out whether the boy meant alcohol or the pills. "I don’t like it too, but I couldn’t do without it" "I don’t want to sleep", said Giviko and yawned. He was really sleepy. He had not sat with his father with no worry for long. That’s why the boy was trying to keep awake. "It seems everything is burning in Rustavi", he said and looked up to the sky. The noise made by an attacker could not be heard any more. There were stars burning in the sky. "Were they bombing there too?" " So it would seem". "I don’t want to sleep", said Giviko again and opened his mouth so largely that Guram laughed aloud. "That's OK. Who’s going to make you go to bed?" Guram took a deep puff. Then he had a deep sigh and mashed the cigarette butt on the table. Vera appeared from the end of the yard with a towel over her shoulder. She had a tooth brush in her hand. She stopped at the door of the cottage. "Men, go to bed now! Do you know what time it is?" said Vera and entered the house. Only now Guram remembered that he had come to the dacha where one hundred people used a single toilet every day of the week and the idea to hang up a door to the loo had never flashed into anyone’s mind. That’s why he leapt up like one in a sudden horror and cried to Vera hidden
behind the closed door of the cottage: "Vera, is the loo occupied?" Giviko, who happened to be dropped down on the ground all of a sudden, looked up to his dad. He was not hurt. He knew that his father had not done so for fun. He also knew that the toilet in Sioni disgusted his father. "Dad", said the boy finally, "I know the name we’ll give to my brother". "Don’t tell me it’s Frogerio", the man helped his son to get up. He dusted down the boys trousers and patted him on the hair. "How did you guess?" Giviko was surprised. "Sonny, bring the flash. Let’s water and go to bed", said the father to his son and gave him a friendly boot. Giviko entered the cottage. Guram looked up to the sky once again and thought that it's the sky that one looks first, when a war breaks out. Then he gave a glance around the leavings. Finally he looked to the place where the dead men were lying. No one could be seen there.