Wave of Terror (24 page)

Kulik had been standing near the door. Haya had just launched a most dangerous assault against him and he knew he had to move quickly to defend himself. He hastily stepped before the officials.

“Allow me to straighten this matter out, comrades. In the first place, I’m not a subversive of any kind or an anti-Semite, for that matter. The very notion is absurd and repulsive to me. As you can see for yourselves, everything in the school is run and has been run in strict conformity with Soviet policy. Haya Sruleyevna is at odds with me for making the worst pupil in the entire school chief of his class. Perhaps I acted in haste, I admit, but since the boy responded to no measure of discipline, I decided to run a sort of experiment—one of positive reinforcement, so to speak, one that would encourage him to attain a higher level of importance and self-esteem. And if I may say so myself, it’s been a great success.” Then turning to Haya, looking directly at her, “Tell me, honestly, Comrade Haya, after the incident with the crosses, did Ohrimko’s behavior worsen or improve? Why, wasn’t it just yesterday that you came into my office with only good things to say about him?”

Haya turned white and stammered. “I … uh … I …”

Yeliseyenko tapped his foot impatiently. “Well? We’re waiting for an answer. What have you got to say to this?”

Glancing helplessly and frantically about the room, looking pleadingly at the officials, she broke down completely. “Oh, it’s true, the problem is not Ohrimko, at least not any more. The real truth is it’s horrible here and I hate it. Please, comrades, I beg you, get me out of here, transfer me to another school, one closer to Moscow. I can’t bear it anymore. Ohrimko did improve, in fact he’s even become a good student and a good influence on the others, but still, it’s not enough. I implore you, send me to a Russian school. I feel so cooped up here. No one, including the villagers, understands a word I say and I don’t understand them.”

Yeliseyenko patted her gently on the shoulder. “All right, Haya, we’ll take your concerns into account when we investigate this matter further. But you must collect yourself, please. You’ll be hearing from us shortly.” Then he looked briefly at his watch, and signaled to his colleagues. “Now we must be off to the next class.”

The men hastily made their way down the corridor to the grade three classroom, where Ivashkevich was bent over his desk, leafing through a pile of papers.

“Comrade Ivashkevich?” Yeliseyenko poked his head through the door. “Excuse the interruption. We’re running an investigation of the school today and would appreciate a few minutes of your time. May we?”

Looking up, somewhat startled, Ivashkevich took off his spectacles and shoved his papers aside. “By all means, come in, please.”

Yeliseyenko wasted no time in getting down to business. “We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the school. How long have you been teaching here?”

“About two months.”

“And how do you feel about the school? In other words, in your opinion is it being run efficiently and effectively?”

Ivashkevich hesitated. “Things aren’t bad. However … how shall I put it … uh …”

Sobakin snapped, “Out with it, we don’t have all day.”

“Well,” Ivashkevich said, “to put it simply, I find teaching here rather difficult. The people in Hlaby are not Belorussian as I was
led to believe. The children can’t speak a word of it and I have to start from scratch—quite literally from the alphabet. It’s created a big headache for me. From what I understood, when the regime assigned me here, I would be among fellow Belorussians, but this is not the case at all. Everyone here speaks Ukrainian.”

Visibly agitated, Yeliseyenko pretended to ignore what he had just heard. He started up again, this time about Kulik. “And what about the headmaster? Do you find him competent and reliable?”

“Oh, yes, quite, and I might add, the charges of subversion and anti-Semitism building up against him are complete nonsense. Not only is Comrade Kulik a good headmaster but he’s an upstanding citizen. Why Haya Fifkina has built a case against him, I don’t know. In my opinion, she’s created a mountain out of a molehill. Allow me to speak candidly—our headmaster did a wonderful job in turning that young Ohrimko around. We were all convinced he was hopeless, but Comrade Kulik proved us all wrong and I applaud his efforts. Kulik is setting a fine example for the children and is encouraging them not only to work hard but to take their schooling seriously.”

Yeliseyenko glowered. He said abruptly, “Yes, in any case, I’m sure before long we’ll get to the bottom of this whole mess.” Then after taking a slip of paper from his coat pocket and reading it, he cleared his throat and brought up another matter. “Hrisko Suchok and Cornelius Kovzalo—I would like to speak to these two men right away. I believe they live here in Hlaby. Would you be so kind as to bring them to the office immediately?”

Eagerly, Ivashkevich rose from his seat, and grabbing his overcoat from the closet, set off for the village. Barely ten minutes passed before he returned with the two men. The first to come through the door was Cornelius, followed by Hrisko Suchok.

Yeliseyenko called out, “Grigory Osipovich Suchok.”

“Uh, that’s me, comrade,” Suchok pulled off his big sheepskin hat, and crumpling it between his hands, bowed obsequiously.

“Ohrimko is your son, is that correct?”

Suchok flushed a deep crimson. This was the very question he wanted to avoid, and at all costs. He started apologetically, “Yes, he’s mine. He’s a troublemaker, no doubt, and I’m the first to admit it. But I’ll have you know, I’ve already taken serious steps to set him straight. I thrashed him until he was black and blue all over and couldn’t walk for a week.”

Yeliseyenko seemed unimpressed. “Yes, well, yes.” Then looking him in the eye, “Tell me, did the headmaster ever call you to the school regarding your son’s behavior? And if so, did he discuss with you the incidents involving Haya Fifkina?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact he did.” Suchok loosened the top button of his overcoat. He felt extremely nervous standing before such important government officials. “Exactly one month ago, on a Thursday I believe it was, I came to see the headmaster regarding my boy. I begged him to teach him a lesson once and for all—to stretch him out on a bench and give him a good whipping or to strap his knuckles until they cracked. But he refused. He said he came to our village to teach the children and not to beat them. Uh, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think our headmaster is too soft-hearted. I think he lacks a certain toughness, which I believe is necessary for this job. As you can very well see for yourself, even though I’m a simple man, I was forced to take matters into my own hands. And now, thanks to my firm stand, my Ohrimko’s finally learned his lesson.”

Yeliseyenko looked sternly at Suchok. “About your son’s assaults on Comrade Haya. I find this sort of behavior extremely alarming and it sets a dangerous precedent. I’m suggesting it was you who riled him up at home, and that it was you and not the headmaster who encouraged him to be anti-Semitic. A boy of seven has to get his ideas from somewhere. It’s obvious to me Ohrimko got them from you.”

Suchok’s eyes popped and he let out a little yelp. “God help me if I should be guilty of such a thing! I want you to know I’m a good, hard-working Soviet citizen and could not even bring myself to think such thoughts, let alone utter them. I have to tell you, my
wife and I have good friends among Jews as we do among our own people. And let me say, there’s good and bad in both. Allow me to explain. Just last summer in the Pinsk marketplace Isaac Zimmerman tried to swindle me out of a bag of beans—he’s a worthless crook who tips his scales. And then another time I stopped to visit Bobli Abramovich. When I brought my eggs to her stall, she not only gave me a good and fair price, but she even offered me tea and cakes. A fine woman and a sweet soul, may God bless her and her family.”

Yeliseyenko shook his head indignantly. He had heard enough. He quickly changed his line of questioning. “What did you do during Polish occupation?”

Suchok tried to be sensible. “I had a small tract of land. Two-tenths were arable, eight-tenths swamp. My old lady and I worked hard day and night to keep our family fed.”

Suchok looked worried. He couldn’t stop thinking about his son. Disaster was about to strike, he was sure of it, and he wanted to be prepared. With not much confidence in himself, wringing his hands, he sputtered, “About my boy, I give you my solemn word you’ll have no more trouble from him. He’ll be like an angel. Please, just give him another chance. And if he should dare step out of line again, I’ll beat him so hard his eyes will jump out of their sockets.”

Yeliseyenko at last lost his temper. He ended abruptly, “That’ll be all for now, Suchok. But remember, we’re not finished with you yet. You’ll be hearing from us soon. You may go.” He swung around to Cornelius. “Comrade Cornelius. You are the Village Chairman, I understand?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Cornelius gave a slight bow. Unlike Suchok, he felt completely at ease and was extremely honored and happy to be in such fine company. He boasted, “I am the one who is responsible for the village and I report directly to the higher authorities in Pinsk on a monthly basis. I want you to know, I keep my eyes wide open and can spot counterrevolutionary activity in a split second. And I have the school under my watch too. The headmaster,
how shall I put it, is a bit of an, uh, nonconformist … And when I learned he provoked the schoolchildren and set them against Haya Fifkina, I couldn’t keep myself from getting involved. Why, just the other day I came to the school to have it out with him, to teach him a thing or two. I told him the children must not only be taught tolerance but that they must be given lessons on the Soviet constitution.” Then leaning forward, as if speaking in confidence, “Allow me to tell you something about Comrade Kulik. He may be headmaster of our school, but he has no understanding of law and order. I said to him, ‘You’ve got to teach the children to like Jews. Things are getting more and more out of hand around here. There’s disruption in the classrooms and unrest in the village.’”

Pausing to scratch his head, thinking of where to go from there, in the end he dropped his train of thought and went on at length about himself. “I’m a simple man, from a simple family, and I have no education from a university, like Comrade Kulik. But I’m a loyal Soviet citizen. As you probably know, I fought hand and foot against the Polish imperialist army and they even threw me in jail for my Communist beliefs. And I endured terrible injustices, until, of course, our Soviet brothers liberated us. As you can see, I’ve made my way up from nothing to Village Chairman. Therefore, I speak candidly when I say I think the headmaster is …”

Yeliseyenko cut him off. “Enough! Your sentences are without beginning or end and you make no sense.” Then somewhat more calmly, “Now let’s go back to the beginning, let’s go back to the day you came to the school to confront Comrade Kulik. What happened exactly?”

“Well, things were not too pleasant. Kulik grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and threw me out the door. On the porch he kicked me with the tip of his boot so hard I was bruised for the longest time after. I can’t even begin to explain how painful it was to sit.”

Yeliseyenko shook his head. “Cornelius, you’re an idiot from beginning to end. I don’t blame the headmaster for kicking you out, and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. You should
know your place by now and shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Tend to matters in the village and leave the operations of the school to the headmaster. Understand? We’re finished with you now, you may go.”

Silently, in a huff, Cornelius made for the door. Out in the yard, he ran, stumbling. Things had turned out badly for him; he brooded over it all the way home. His very vital comments and observations had not even been taken into consideration, and his impressions of the headmaster had been ignored completely. How could this be? After all, wasn’t he the Village Chairman, an important figure in the region, appointed by the Party? Why had the officials treated him so disrespectfully? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand it.

All the while Kulik stood in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back. He was considerably on edge. The room felt hot, and his temples throbbed. After witnessing the circus with Haya Fifkina and Ivashkevich, and later with Suchok and Cornelius, he didn’t know what to make of it all—it seemed so ridiculous, like some big joke. Now it was his turn. He braced himself for the final round.

Sobakin was the first to speak. He said severely, “Well, Comrade Kulik, what are we to do with you? Hmm ? We know all that’s going on, in fact we’ve been watching you for some time. No, you can’t hide anything from us. But because we live in a democratic society, the most democratic in the world, we’ve agreed to hear you out. I’m sure once you explain yourself, everything will be cleared up.”

Lighting a cigarette, he smiled slyly and went on. “I understand you used brutal force to throw the Village Chairman out of the school. Your unorthodox method of excusing him is not, and I repeat,
not
in line with Soviet policy. To make a public display of a Soviet representative is no light matter. It’s equivalent to making a mockery of the government itself.”

Kulik’s voice barely obeyed him. “In the first place, when I threw Cornelius out of the school, I felt I was not throwing out a government representative but a rude and ignorant person who
was wasting my time. I had a stack of papers to mark, not to mention a list of school matters to tend to.”

Sobakin gave him a piercing look. “Cornelius is an idiot, that has already been established, but the truth of the matter is he came to you regarding a very serious problem—one of anti-Semitism. And quite plainly you refrained from hearing him out. Now as a result a scandal has erupted, and a scandal in the school, especially one of this magnitude, does not redound to your credit. And furthermore, where Ohrimko is concerned, it appears some strict disciplinary action needs to be taken, something you’ve neglected to do. From where I stand, it’s plain to see you’ve demonstrated nothing but hostility toward the new system. I understand you’ve even been sabotaging the Clubhouse meetings.”