Andrus Kivirähk - The Man Who Spoke Snakish

At that time my only playmate was Ints, for Hiie was no longer allowed out at all. Tambet had shut himself and his family indoors in their shack, as if afraid that those going to the village had caught some dangerous disease that might also infect his own people. So all Hiie’s wanderings had to stop. I saw her a couple of times looking sadly out the window; I waved to her and she gestured back to me — carefully, so that no one in the room would notice.

Tambet did venture out sometimes, hunting for unhusbanded wolves who wandered freely just as in ancient days. In this way his wolf pack continued to grow, but thanks to Hiie and the Snakish words even the new wolves soon learned that they ought to sleep in the daytime, not eat. One time, Tambet caught a glimpse of me; he glared at me and shouted, “What are you waiting for? Why don’t you move to the village, like the other traitors!”

I didn’t answer him and ran quickly into the bushes.

I was saddened that Hiie was not allowed out to play anymore. Pärtel moved away, Hiie was stuck at home — and I felt completely alone. There was only Ints, who tried to console me by saying that all the emigrants to the village were fools, but his jokes didn’t improve my mood. Ultimately, adders can’t really understand humans, even when they are speaking the same language. They regarded humans rather as younger brothers, whom they have indulgently taught a secret language, honored with a precious gift that the humans have stupidly thrown away, willfully choosing to become like hedgehogs or insects. Snakes were proud creatures, and they didn’t tolerate stupidity, nor did they have any sympathy for the humans who were leaving the forest. Evidently they had already given up on the human race, like a piece of food that has fallen into the river and is carried out of reach by the current.

I understood this, and I hadn’t suggested to Ints that he make poisonous jokes about those who had moved away, but I couldn’t laugh along with him. I couldn’t laugh about Pärtel, because I remembered how sad he had been and how he hadn’t wanted to leave. The only thing I didn’t understand was why he still hadn’t come to see me. More and more often I went to the edge of the forest to lurk, and ended up spending whole days there, having decided to wait as long as it took to see Pärtel. If the villagers hadn’t killed him, he must turn up in the end! Ints was with me; he wasn’t particularly interested in Pärtel, but they were beautiful warm autumn evenings and in the sunshine of the forest edge it did him good to coil up and doze.

Finally one morning my waiting bore fruit. I saw Pärtel. He suddenly appeared from behind the corner of a house, a scythe in his hand. I hissed at him a long and piercing Snakish word, scarcely audible at all. Pärtel flinched, turned around, and saw me.

The worst thing was that he hesitated. He didn’t hiss back; he didn’t run at full speed toward me or express anything like the great joy I felt when I saw him stepping out from behind the corner. He stopped and considered. Finally he started walking toward me, his arm covered behind his back by the scythe, a forced smile on his face.

“Hi!” he said. “Ah, here you are.”

“I came to watch you gad about the village,” I said sarcastically. Pärtel’s attitude had made me defiant. I had imagined us hugging each other and then chatting at great length about what had happened to us since we had seen each other. But now I was standing, glaring at Pärtel, while he smiled a forced smile at me. Evidently he was embarrassed about his village clothes and the scythe hidden behind his back. But I didn’t intend to be merciful.

“What have you got behind your back?” I asked. “Some tree root or something?”

“It’s a scythe,” replied Pärtel awkwardly. “I was just on my way to the field. That’s why I haven’t been able to come and see you; there’s so much work. Right now it’s harvesting time.”

“What do you cut that junk for?” I persisted. I was furious and terribly unhappy that the longed-for meeting with my friend had been such a shabby failure. I felt I had to choose whether to burst into tears or keep my composure by insulting Pärtel, and I chose the latter.

“They make bread from the grain,” mumbled Pärtel. He was looking down, avoiding my gaze.

“That mush! Don’t you have anything else to eat?”

“Bread is actually very useful,” said Pärtel. He looked truly embarrassed; he must have wanted to run away from me back to the field, to cut straws along with the other villagers with his new toy. But he just stood there, asking after my mother’s and Salme’s health. Never before had Pärtel been interested in my mother’s and sister’s health, and I told him so to his face.

“You’ve very quickly turned strange in the village,” I said. “What have they done to you? Remember how you told me that evening you didn’t want to leave the forest? And now you tell me you couldn’t come to see me, because you have some sort of crop cutting to do. What does that have to do with you? You’re from the forest! You know Snakish!”

“You don’t understand anything!” said Pärtel, suddenly very angry. “Why are you attacking me? I didn’t want to come away from the forest because I didn’t know what kind of life they live in the village, but now I do. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s actually very nice here. There are so many people here, other boys and girls. We play together and have fun. And harvesting crops is great too; I’m pretty good at cutting with a scythe. Later they’re going to teach me how to thresh grain and how to mill it. It’s very interesting here, and I don’t have any need for Snakish words, so it doesn’t matter whether I know them or not.”

“Ha!” scoffed Ints, who up to now had been lying peacefully coiled. “Only insects live without Snakish words. What kind of life is that?”

Pärtel was startled at the sight of Ints and stared at him for a moment somewhat fearfully.

“Do you want to strike him down with a stick?” I asked. “Have those jolly boys and girls already taught you that all adders must be bludgeoned to death?”

“No,” said Pärtel. “But just by the way — in the village they really don’t like snakes. They are the enemies of God.”

“So who is this God then?” I asked.

“That is the most powerful of the sprites,” said Pärtel. “He has made us. He has made all the things in the world and can still make them. He can do everything. He helps those who worship him and fulfills their wishes. But those who are his enemies will perish.”

“Who told you that?” I asked. “That’s just the same sort or drivel that Ülgas drones on about in the forest.”

“Johannes, the village elder,” said Pärtel. “By the way, my name isn’t Pärtel anymore. I was christened and I’m now Peetrus. God doesn’t care for people called Pärtel. But he loves a Peetrus and when I ask him for something he gives it.”

“That’s just stupid!” I protested. “How can you believe a thing like that? There aren’t any spirits!”

“There might not be any spirits, but there is a God,” contested Pärtel. “Johannes the village elder spent a long time telling me about it. It was very interesting. He was put on a cross and then rose from the dead.”

“You can’t rise from the dead,” said Ints. “That has never happened.”

“But Johannes the village elder says it has!” Pärtel-Peetrus eyed Ints with completely evident disgust. “The whole world believes that he rose from the dead, and all the people can’t be stupid.”

“All the adders in the world know you can’t rise from the dead!” I said. “And I believe them!”

“Adders can’t read!” Pärtel gave me a stubborn look. “You think that only you and your snakes are smart. But Johannes has told me things that … You’ve only lived in the forest, but he has been beyond the seas, in far foreign lands. There are huge numbers of people living there and they all believe in God and know that he rose from the dead. And they all harvest grain and eat bread and none of them lives in the forest or talks to snakes. Maybe you’re the one who’s half-witted. Johannes said that in other places in the world they think that people who live in the forest and talk to animals are complete fools.”