Yordan Yovkov [Lady Heart] - Valkadin speaks to God

 

Temporal

 

Translation from Bulgarian

1. Valkadin speaks to God

When he wanted to recollect how misfortunes had arrived and how misfortunes started piling up in his house, Valkadin also thought of that evening in August, when, after they had blown threshed it off, a great heap of wheat remained shining like gold in the stack-yard, and in the east the moon showed itself, red, through the floating dust. A big slog stayed on also after sunset. He was working alone, with his daughters-in-law and children, because his sons were still at war. While they were bringing the wheat into the barn, while they were unloading the wagons with the sheaves and putting away this and that, the moon jumped up, turned white, and when they sat down to dinner, it was as clear as day. Then he said:

"Just take a little longer while we finish the threshing." And when your husbands come, I shall distribute it to you. I shall give you everything, I want nothing for myself. It is enough for me, as long as I live, to come visit you from time to time.

Across from him sat Millena, his youngest daughter-in-law. A pretty woman, young, strong, her eyes, as always, laughing, her round face illuminated by the moon. He looked at her and laughed.

"And to Millena," he said, "I shall give something separately. What it is, I won't say now, but when the time comes, I shall give it to her."

They had worked well, he let himself loose and asked Millena to sing to him "Millen was talking to Millena". He loved that song because, just as in it, his daughter-in-law was named Millena, and his son, her husband – Millen. As he listened to her, he was glad to see his daughter-in-law, and he felt sorry for Millen, who, with his two brothers, was at war, and it was unknown whether he or they would return alive.

What happened next? His sons did return alive and well, but he did not recognize them: there was turmoil in their souls, they looked askance, they were grumpy and evil like hunted wolves. Heavy times came, everything turned backwards, like a cart let slip down a hill. First, the troops that had gone to Kyustendja and Tulcha began to return in a hurry - they came dawdling along day and night, in rain, in mud, in cold; hungry, and exhausted. Soldiers went into the villages and visited from door to door knocking [and asking] for a piece of bread like beggars. How hastily they had departed, and what pain they had endured, could also be seen from this, that when the snow melted in the spring, the roads through which they had passed were scarred with the bones of dead cattle. The Romanians returned again and pushed the border back to where it was earlier, right in front of the houses. The village remained on this side, and half its farmland - beyond it.

He kept his word and separated his sons. But what good? Neither they nor he were destined to see any good. The middle one, Athanas, as soon as he came back, fell ill and was said to be fine, said to have only caught a cold, but he lay down and never got up. His eldest son, Nicholas - a heroic man, prominent, whom he could not enjoy enough when he came on leave, a master sergeant, with medals covering his whole chest - he, on the other hand, started going to parties, and became mayor. He was a strict man, he believed in justice, the law, but who listens to you, who thinks of following the right path? And one evening, as he was standing with friends in the pub, they shot through the window and killed him. He passed away, too. One more widow remained and one more black headscarf on the way from the village to the cemetery.

Only his youngest son, Millen, remained. The fields beyond, in Romania, fell to him, and so he lived there—in a foreign village and in a foreign kingdom. He was a step away, but neither could he come, nor could the old man go to him when he wanted. It became Valkadina's habit to get up in the morning, to drive the cow in front of him to graze it - as long as he had some work - to go out above the village and climb the hill. There was a big elm tree there, and while the cow grazed around, he sat under the elm tree, leaning against its trunk, looking across the border. His two deceased sons left grown-up sons, they worked, he didn't think about them. His concern now was for Millena. And looking beyond the border, it happened that both Millen and Millena came out in the field. He knew them by their faces, by their gait if they were nearer, by their cattle if they were farther away, and he watched them for hours. And if any of their children happened to be with  them, an old man's kindly smile remained on his face the whole time he looked at them. Between him and them was the border, and along it occasionally there passed foreign soldiers in blue coats and horned hats.

One day the village bristled up with bad news: opposite, in the village where Millen lived, gendarmes came, beat, and tortured them, then tied up the men and took them inwards. With great difficulty, Valkadin crossed the border and found Millena. When he was brought out of prison, just to see him, the old man's heart swam in blood: is this Millen? Is that his son? With a darkened face, with sunken eyes, with blood baked on the forehead and sides. He looked at him, lowered his eyes to the ground and — not a word.

"Tell me, Millen, tell me, son, whether you have done nothing, whether you are right, it is another kingdom here, but I will go, I will spend, I will give the bite of my mouth, but I will get you free."

"No", said he, hard. "I have not done anything. They crushed me, and took my health. If only I could go beyond and die there."

When he was thinking about everything there — and that was every day — Valkadin stood, as before, under the elm, and looked across the border. Millen was no longer there - wouldn't you [chance to] see a white and a black horse somewhere around the field, and next to them - wouldn't you see Millena - and her children. But in the field the corn had come into ear and there were no people. Only some green wheat, and in them there blossomed many, many poppies, scarlet as blood.

Valkadin got up, collected the cow to drive it to the village. He walked without looking up, without looking left or right. When he got home, he heard that in the room his elder daughter-in-law, Kadra, was talking to someone. He avoided meeting people, but now it was as if someone pushed him and he entered. In front of him he saw Millena. The women got up, Millena kissed his hand and cried. Kadra cried too. For a long time Millena's tears flowed down her face. She calmed down, she was about to say something, her chest started shaking again and she lifted her apron again to wipe her tears. Without saying anything, Valkadin left. When Millena removed the apron from her eyes, he was gone.

"Where did teiko [father-in-law] go?" she said. "It was for him that I’ve come. I have so much to say to him."

They went outside, looked for him. Valkadin was gone.

"Don't be angry, Millenka, lay no blame on him," Kadra said. "Our father-in-law has become such one... he keeps silent. Whatever we don't tell him, however we don't think about it - he doesn't open his mouth, he doesn't say a thing, he stays silent. And it's not since yesterday, it's been like this for months."

They returned home, stayed some time more, talking about both good and evil. On several occasions, when the word returned to him, Kadra told that their father-in-law, since the men had passed away, most so since Millen's death, had changed so much that no one could recognize him. He doesn't go down to the village, he doesn't meet anyone. And he doesn't talk. He does not talk to his own people or to strangers. The whole village here knows: Valkadin does not speak, Valkadin does not want to speak. And so he is: silent. Silent and thinking. What’s he thinking - only the Lord knows.

As she got up to go, Millena said:

"If I could, I would wait for him until he came back. But I can't, because the people I came with are in a hurry. You, sis Kadra, please tell him. Tell him as I’m telling you: ‘I do love Millen, God knows, but what am I to do? Not for good I, too, am said to go under a second marriage. This man was found, he was good, they say, he has only one child. I cannot [cope] alone. To have a man at home, to preserve the property for the children. I am doing it for them. And also, that I, as a widow, should not be backbitten by people. I hold Millen dear, but what am I to do? I pray to teiko to grant me forgiveness’, tell him so.

Not to the gate, but all the way to the cart, Kadra sent her sister-in-law, and she stood there through, until she got on and drove away across the border.

Valkadin came home after dark. When Kadra told him why Millena had come, what she had said, he listened to her, but said nothing. He ate, he retired and, as always, he went to bed early. But not an hour or two passed, he awoke and opened his eyes as if he had never slept. And his thoughts - not from yesterday, not from that day - just like a spinning-wheel thread which has neither broken nor stopped, dragged one after the other in his mind again:

Who are they who judge people and order the affairs of the world, who gives them this power, is there a lord? Are they not also born of a mother, and will they not die, like all men? How can a border be drawn, if that's the case - to leave the cemeteries in one country and the relatives of the dead in another? To go to see your brother, to see your son - and to be met by some foreign soldier who came from who knows where, to point a rifle and a knife at you and say: "Back!" Be at home, and get kicked out. How can it happen here, my lord, how?

Who turns brother against brother and son against father? Why is good gone and evil spreading? If a bear chases you, you will meet a wolf, if you run away from a wasp, a snake will bite you. No mercy, no kind word, no respect. Why, o Lord? Why?

When buying or selling something, people's eyes are on the scales. And why, when they judge a person, when his life’s on the line [scales], do they look through their fingers? Would no one understand that Millen had done nothing, that he is right, that he is clean? Why do they kill the innocent and why do they oppress the poor? Why, o Lord? Why?

The earth gives birth as much as it gave birth earlier. Why are there hungry [men], why are there naked and barefoot [men]? And there, beyond the border, what is it [like]! What belongs to another is taken as one's own, at home a stranger is sitting in the corner and chases the owner rushes out, driving him like cattle into the stable. The old men have bowed their heads, the men grit their teeth and are silent. Why do you hide yourself in such a busy time, o Lord? Why?

Hours passed like this. It gets clear, the window turns red - the sun is rising. Valkadin gets up, drives the cow in front of him and goes out of the village. Up on the hill he sits under the elm, looks over this side, looks over beyond the border, and his thoughts run endlessly, ceaselessly.

Ten days later, Millena came again: When Kadra met her, and seeing how wise and thoughtful she was, she realized she would hear nothing good.

"Did you tell teiko?" What did he say?

"Uh, Millenke. Was he to at least say something, and was he even not to say something good, let him say something evil. But the man has locked his mouth shut and kept silent. I told him, I told him everything. And here it is, he gave me this..."

She untied a knot, golden coins shone: three larger mahmouds and twenty small gold coins.

"Give them, says he, to Millena. I give her forgiveness. Let her do what the Lord has taught her to."

"Did he not say something else?"

"He said so much. And these were all his words that I have heard from him since one year now."

Millena did not take the money. She left the knot on the ground.

"Well, I didn't ask him for money," she said. "I want him to say a good word to me, to guide me. Why is he giving me that string?"

"What can I say, Millenke. I have been thinking, too, and it occurred to me that he had vowed to give you something — do you remember when we threshed, when the men were still at war? He said then that he would give you something. It could be this."

Suddenly Millena remembered that evening and remembered it as clearly as if she were seeing it again: there was a moon, her father-in-law made her sing "Millen was telling Millena". She burst into tears. "He promised to give me something," she thought, "this would be it."

"But I do not want money!" she cried out in pain. "I want him to say a kind word to me, to calm me down. I will wait for him. Both today and tomorrow I will stand here and will see him."

She really decided to wait for him, but having stood and talked with Kadra, she was overcome with grief.

"I can't, I'll go find him. Where is he going?"

"Where would he go? There is an elm tree above the village, isn't there? He's there all the time, under that elm tree."

Millena put on her scarf and left. As she passed through the village, she saw no one, no one met her. She started up on the hill. What a kind, what a wise man her father-in-law once was, she thought. "How many jokes he made, how much people laughed. Ah, his and her sorrow is as great as the sea - what can be done, what’s done is done, the dead mana shall not return from the grave. Why is he running away from her, why wouldn't he speak to her?”

She was up on the hill and looked: her father-in-law was standing under the elm. And what was he doing? Resting his head on his knees, he was thinking. Or will he turn his eyes upward — is he looking at the branches of the elm, or at the sky?

Millena is close to him, but he doesn't notice her. But there he saw her, he turned a little to the left, хе turned a little to the right, as if looking where to hide, and he got up.

"Teiko! Teiko!" Millena shouted.

Valkadin hurried on, followed by her. She caught up with him, he could hear her footsteps, but he still didn't turn around.

"Teiko, wait... Why are you running away from me? Teiko, please, teiko…"

He kept walking as if he were deaf. Overcome with grief, Millena wept aloud. Then he turned — tall, bearded, black at the edges, white in the middle, with a heavy, drawn-in look, thoughtful. And again he said nothing.

"Man, talk to me!" Millena said tearfully. "Why are you running away from me?"

Valkadin kept on looking at her just like that.

"Say one word to me... Speak up, teiko!"

She walked towards him. Valkadin raised his hand and stopped her:

"Go away. Leave me. What do you want me to speak? I have nothing to speak. I speak to god..."

He turned and left. Millena remained like that, stunned, confused. Suddenly she seemed to understand what he was trying to tell her and she no longer followed him. She looked, looked after him, and then returned. Tears streaming down her face.