Elena Fishtik - SARA. Laws are keeping silence during the war

Sara was staying in a line of two elderly men who were constantly exchanging their stories:

– I travelled so good last year, I decided to thumb a lift, maybe someone would drive me, and someone stopped, so I went with him and, ah! I even didn’t pay money!

– Oh, how was it?

– When we came, I went out of the car and began to rummage through my pockets, and so cunningly that the driver heard I said as if to myself:

– Damn, I think I’ve dropped the wallet in your car…

When the driver heard it he hit the gas and went away.

– Listen Ziama, and aren’t you lying? Well… You’re a genius!… – they are laughing and patting each other on the shoulders.

– Musia!!!

– From a distance coming toward the line, loudly and angrily his wife was shouting and you couldn’t stay the last in the queue, what kind of simpleton!;Musia and Ziama hunched their necks from fear, but it seemed they were lucky, Haya was running past, her main aim was the market place which was opposite side.

Three middle-aged ladies were ahead, they turned at the cry of Haya and recognized in her an old friend, they portrayed a smile, saying some words of welcome.

Haya, on the run replied in kind keeping the same etiquette, and ran on.

I must say that Haya screamed so loud that she could easily outshouted the signal of an approaching locomotive, so that the whole line responded to her cry, but three ladies who were standing in front of Sara, didn’t miss the opportunity to discuss Haya, but not her cry, they were not bothered by it, they were not timid by themselves, they may cry, no less shrill, one of them by changing smile on a wry face, as if just she has smelt the rotten sauerkraut, cheerfully she set the tone:

– Listen, there is Haya!

– Really!

– Did she live behind the school? – said the third.;

No one was going to answer the question, the first lady who exclaimed was burst with the desire to savor Haina, sorry ass:

– Is she put on weight more? Well, asshole!

– The nightmare – the other assented shrilly.

– Keep your voice down, – the third person hissed loudly, pushing her friend by elbow, fearing of Haya’s wrath, and glancing in the direction of running.

– Ah! Why are you worrying!

If I was not sure that she was among the other things also deaf, I would not speak so calmly.

These phrases have reached all who was staying in the queue, they giggled.

Then the baton was intercepted again by Grandpas.

– Ugh! – it could be heard when grandfathers breathed together.

– Well, how did you marry Haya?

– Ziama cried in the hearts – she is so ugly!

– Well, I say – a little oblique!

– A little bit?! When she is crying, her tears flow on the back crosswise!

– So this is my mother’s choice

– Musia mumbled guilty.

She told me that I would never marry a beautiful girl – she can leave me.

– And the ugly can leave too.

– But this is a different matter!; And Grandpas again were giggling.

– Ziama rushed into memories – but my mother always told me; – My son! Your first wife should be Ukrainian.

– How so, why? You’re a Jew, – Musia embarrassed.

– And I just asked my mother why, and she said that Ukrainians are beautiful, they cook tasty.

“She will make the burly man from you. Then you will divorce and marry a Jewess”

– Why? – Musia bewildered more.

– Well, I asked her why? And I got a slap for the slowness.

– Firstly, – my mother told me – you are a Jew.

Secondly, a Jewess wife – this are some connections and string-pulling. And when you will have connections, the position in the society, children, you will divorce and marry a gypsy.

– ?!

– Musia entangled in the calculations of Ziama’s mother completely, he crouched the proper “face”.

Ziama continued with a serious expression of face, understanding the silent scene of Musia:

– Mum likes so much how beautiful the Roma bury.

– ?!

– Did you believe? Well I’m laughing!;And playful old men were giggling again, coughing and tapping each other on the back.;;

Next was the turn of Musia, Ziama called him so, copying the style of Haya:

– And remember, I was in Kiev last year?

– Of course, you were in Kiev, I remember.

– So I’ll tell you, there are such Ukrainians!

– Better than ours?

– How can you compare?!

– Musia outraged. – I had an intimate date with someone, uh-uh! Oh!

– Cheer up and smacking his lips with pleasure, Musia who was already eighty years old, Sara thought so, he added exclaiming:

– Oh, now I know everything for sure!

– So tell me, finally!

– losing patience and scattering spit with envy, Ziama urged him.

– Listen: she wore a cape with a hood lurex – nothing like you would not find here.

And when she took off her, then it was under the blouse in pink chiffon, transparent as glass!

And her skirt was all completely covered with sequins, so that it was painful to even look at her. Then she took off her skirt…

– And what? – Ziama insisted impatiently.

– And what, – his friend shouted at him above, – she had underclothes decorated with Walloon lace of purple color and silver threads… Garters were decorated with the precious stones…

– And what? – Ziama asked losing his patience and self-control.

– Then she took off her clothes and garters …Ziama wiped the drops of sweat from his forehead, by the movement of hand that gripped the wrist of a happy storyteller, he made it clear that he needed a brief respite, and after a few seconds, exclaimed again:

– And what?

– Well, what – what, what – what?

– Musia waved disappointed

– And then everything was exactly as with my Haya…

– Mmm!

– Musia shook his head in disappointment – listen and how is your Haya feeling now?

– She is sick and ill, I said to her:

– Haya, do you know if any of us will die, I will most likely go to Israel…

– I understand you, and now you’re going to L’vov, – Ziama laughed.

The queuing for the water was quite long, friends countered each other relentlessly, the language in which they spoke was a surrogate for the Jewish, Ukrainian and Russian:

– How did you marry Haya, I am afraid of her, she can kill by the glance?!

Listening to the elders, Sara became cheerful.

After drinking some water and taking it with them, she and her mother crossed the road, where there was a small little market, the brother, a little later, caught up with them.

The mother thought it would be good to exchange her ring on the products, as the way was expected to be not near and not easy, where there is such a possibility could be.

The voices of traded were heard everywhere:

– I would not for a half price buy this fur coat.

Look – there is a fur out! – a thick aunt squealed.

– Madame, but for this price a couple of years you will have a great leather coat!

– Either he made fun of, or really believed in his words the seller with the silly expression on his face, reminiscent of a caricature.

Suddenly, as in the gramophone, right behind Sara the voices were heard:

– We haven’t seen for a long time! How are you doing? What do you do?

– Thank you, slowly. I am working on memoirs.

– Writing memoirs? It is wonderful. By the way, have you already reached the point when you have taken me 30 rubles?

Pictures, characters and actions change like a kaleidoscope.

– Good day, Semyon Markovich, how are you doing?

– Little by little, and yours?

– The same. I have an interesting little case to you.