Theodore Odrach - Wave of Terror

Paspelov looked at her disapprovingly, took out his notepad and jotted down a few lines. Raising his head, he said severely, “There are still two hours left of school. Where are the children?”

Dounia brushed back her hair from her face. “They went home about an hour ago.”

“Did you dismiss them?”

“Yes, I couldn’t bear it anymore, they were driving me crazy. They’re just a bunch of spoiled, sniveling brats.”

Paspelov tensed. He was becoming quite perturbed. For a teacher to take such liberties was unheard of. He stormed at her, “And who gave you permission to do that?”

Dounia threw back her head. She was growing increasingly impatient with his questions. “Hah! Now you want to read me the bill of rights!”

“If I have to, I will. As inspector, my job is to visit schools and verify that all students and teachers are working in compliance with the new order. From what I see here already, this school is full of irregularities.”

“Full of irregularities? You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here and bothering me with irregularities! I don’t have time for your nonsense. And your approach is most unfriendly and disrespectful.” She added, “I suppose you haven’t heard … I’m not just the mere teacher you think I am. I’ll have you know, I’ve just become the leading candidate for Deputy of the Village Soviet. The people have voted me in. Yes, I’m to be the next deputy. As you must now understand, I’ve been kept very busy, and I haven’t had time to waste on schoolwork. My head is brimming with ideas, night and day. Meetings, meetings, every day I must attend meetings— there’s no end to them. And the speeches I have to prepare! And on top of all that, the peasants and workers have to be organized, the posters put up. As you can see, I’m a very busy woman.”

A constrained silence followed and the tension in the room intensified. The truth of the matter was that Paspelov was completely stunned to hear of Dounia’s candidacy for regional deputy; in fact, this was the first he had heard of it. The news literally left him speechless and made him wonder how such a crass and grossly underbred woman could be nominated to so responsible and dignified a position. This was a complete mystery to him. He didn’t want to believe it, and chose not to believe it. He decided that she was making up a story.

He said firmly and with a great deal of authority, “I am the school inspector and I shall conduct my inspection of your school as I see fit. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Pushing her aside, he proceeded to rummage through her classrooms, fidgeting in desks, sifting through papers and examining closets. When after about an hour he returned, he looked indignant and disgusted.

“This school is in appalling condition. It’s worse than a pigsty. There’s scribbling on the walls and the floors are filthy. The benches are all scratched up and dusty, and the blackboards look like they’ve never been cleaned. All that’s missing in this dump is a broken window.”

Dounia caught him up at once. “Actually, one of the little monsters broke a window just last week and I had to send a peasant especially to Pinsk to get it fixed. Why, it cost me almost thirty rubles!”

Paspelov wrote several lines in his notebook, looked up at her briefly, and wrote some more. Then he asked to see her lesson preparations.

“Lesson preparations?” Dounia shrugged. “What do you want with lesson preparations? Do you think I’m so stupid that I have to record everything on paper?” After briefly examining her nails, rolling her eyes, she pointed to a small wooden table with a lopsided pile of papers on one side and a stack of copybooks on the other. “If you feel you must do something, go right ahead, get it out of your system. That’s the work of the children over there. Take all the time you want.”

Paspelov promptly made for the table. He thumbed through the papers, and leafed through the copybooks, all the while shaking his head, muttering under his breath. He could hear Dounia humming at the other end of the room, and saying, “Oh, grammar, arithmetic. Trying to teach these little delinquents is an absolute horror.”

Waving a copybook in his hand, Paspelov came toward her. “This work is dreadful. This is not writing, it’s scribbling! And there are hardly any teacher’s corrections anywhere, and if there are, they’re either too sloppy to make out or just plain wrong. How do you expect the children to learn anything?” He turned his attention to a pile of papers that appeared to be arithmetic homework. “Why, you don’t even know your fractions! This is an outrage!”

“What do you mean?” Dounia was offended. “Of course I know my fractions. I’ll prove it to you. Here, for example, is an apple. If I cut it in half, I get two halves. And if I cut the half in a half, I get a quarter. Simple!” She faced him with her hands on her hips. “Hah, and you say I don’t know my fractions?”

“And how do you add a half and a third? How do you multiply an eighth by a quarter? And what’s a common denominator?”

“Common denominator? Hmm …” Dounia scratched her head and thought a while. Finally she shrugged. “Quite honestly, it slips my mind for the moment. But it’s no big deal, these little monsters could do very well without these common denominators of yours. Besides what do they need to know them for anyway? Look at me, I’m doing just fine and I’m even a teacher, not to mention the soon-to-be Deputy of the Village Soviet.”

She looked at him with contempt. “Your attitude is terribly hostile and imperialistic, Comrade Inspector. You’re putting on airs as if you’re well-read, but you don’t fool me, you’re a fake. I wouldn’t be surprised if you never went past grade five. Do you always attack women as if you were a general?”

Paspelov was completely unprepared for her degree of insolence. “Do you realize whom you are speaking to? This, Dounia Avdeevna, could cost you your job! I am the school inspector and I was sent here by the People’s Commissariat of Education.”

Dounia rushed back at him. “School inspector, hah! You’re nothing more than a flea! You were born a flea and you’ll die a flea!”

“How dare you!” Paspelov could not believe his ears. “You’re an illiterate and vulgar creature, you have no place in a school, let alone becoming a candidate for Deputy of the Village Soviet. I will be certain to brief Yeliseyenko, the school superintendent, on the mess here. Then we’ll see who the flea is!”

At this fiery moment, to Boris’s great surprise, as if out of nowhere, two government officers entered the room. They were both in official army uniforms and their chests and lapels were heavily decorated. Revolvers dangled from their holsters. The taller of the two, Paspelov noticed, was carrying what appeared to be a bottle wrapped in brown paper.

“Dounia!” Kokoshin rushed to her, and looked into her face with concern. “What’s going on in here? We heard all the racket from outside. Is everything all right? Have you been waiting for us long?” Then catching sight of the inspector standing against the wall, he raised his brows suspiciously. “Who’s that?”

“His name’s Boris Paspelov. And he’s been harassing me all afternoon. It’s a good thing you came when you did. He was just about to hit me.”

At that moment Paspelov felt rather dizzy. It was precisely then that he realized whom he was dealing with and how dangerous the situation was that he had created for himself — it hit him like a ton of bricks. He had battled with the wrong person; it was now obvious Dounia Avdeevna had friends in high places, and these friends, with just a wave of her hand were capable of bringing him down. Wiping his forehead, swallowing hard, he gathered his belongings quickly and made for the door. In a faint voice, he bade farewell and hastened to his car.