Read Breaking Stalin's Nose Online
Authors: Eugene Yelchin
Breaking Stalin's Nose (5 page)
“CHILDREN, WHAT is our duty as future Pioneers?” says Nina Petrovna. “It is to collectively expose those responsible for what happened to Comrade Stalin's statue. Then and only then will we be allowed to proceed with the Pioneers rally. Act in the Stalinist spirit and you will earn the red Pioneers scarf tied around your neck.”
Everyone is quiet. Nina Petrovna scans the classroom.
“Now take out your pencils,” she says. “On a new sheet of paper, write down the names of the pupils in our class whom you suspect might be
responsible. When finished, sign and date your list in the upper right corner and pass it to the front.”
responsible. When finished, sign and date your list in the upper right corner and pass it to the front.”
Nobody moves.
“Children? Why are we not writing?”
“We're not sure, Nina Petrovna.” It's Zina Krivko; she always speaks for everybody.
“How can you not be sure, Zina? Did you do it?”
“No.”
“Do you think your friend Tamara did it?”
Zina looks at her desk partner, Tamara. Tamara turns white. Zina turns back to Nina Petrovna and shakes her head.
“See, Zina, it's simple. You know who didn't do it,” says Nina Petrovna. “I'll make it easy for you. Write down the names of the pupils who you're sure didn't do it.”
Relieved, Zina lifts a pencil, bends over her workbook, covers it with her other hand so nobody can copy, and scribbles away.
“Good, Zina. Keep going,” says Nina Petrovna,
watching her for a moment. “Just make sure you are right. You know what will happen if even one name on your list turns out to be unreliable?”
watching her for a moment. “Just make sure you are right. You know what will happen if even one name on your list turns out to be unreliable?”
Zina shakes her head. She doesn't know.
“You, yourself, will be suspected,” says Nina Petrovna. “We'll know that Zina Krivko is covering for the enemies of the people.”
Zina pulls away from her workbook. The tip of her pencil starts tapping the paper.
Tap, tap, tap
. I see that her hand is shaking.
Tap, tap, tap
. I see that her hand is shaking.
Nina Petrovna looks at her, surprised. “What's wrong, Zina? Why did you stop writing?”
Zina opens and closes her mouth several times before she can speak again. “I'm not sure who's reliable, Nina Petrovna,” she says quietly.
“That's it, Zina,” says Nina Petrovna. “The ones who you're not sure are reliable are the suspicious ones. Those are the names you want to write down. Understand?”
Nina Petrovna looks up at the class. “Children, does everyone understand?”
I hear people shifting in their seats and soon pencils start to scribble. I look over my shoulder at Vovka. He's grinning at me and pretending to sharpen his pencil with a knife. When I turn back, Nina Petrovna stands in front of my desk.
“Sasha? You're not writing?”
I wish I had some excuseâthat I didn't have any paper or that my pencil needed sharpeningâbut there's paper in front of me, pencil sharp as always.
“Sasha?” she says, this time louder. “Write at least one name, Sasha. Should be easy to guess, shouldn't it?”
She looks over my head and now I see she is staring at Vovka. She stares long and hard, making sure we all know who she's looking at.
“Can you spell your own name, Sobakin?” she says. “Write it down.”
I turn to look at Vovka. Everyone does. Vovka's desk scrapes the floor as he rises, clenching his fists. What is he going to do? Hit Nina Petrovna? By the look of him, he would. But nothing happens. The door opens and Matveich pokes his head in. “All classes to the cafeteria. Chief's orders.”
“A WAVE OF ANGER and profound outrage engulfed the entire body of our school when we uncovered the unspeakably monstrous crime that took place in the main hall. Undeniably, a group of filthy and cowardly conspirators, spies, murderers, and provocateurs has infiltrated our school. These heinous degenerates, these traitors to the Motherland, aim to undermine ⦔
The principal, Sergei Ivanych, stops hollering to clear his throat. Then he stands there a moment, holding on to the podium, wheezing. He starts again. Sergei Ivanych is a dedicated Communist
and I'm always in agreement with his speeches, but this time he's gone too far. I should know. I'm the only one who knows what really happened. Hold onâI'm not the only one; Vovka knows, too. I turn around and look at the back of the crowdâthat's where he'd beâbut he's not there. Matveich locked the cafeteria doors. Nobody's allowed to leave. So where is he? Vovka is up to something bad again, definitely.
and I'm always in agreement with his speeches, but this time he's gone too far. I should know. I'm the only one who knows what really happened. Hold onâI'm not the only one; Vovka knows, too. I turn around and look at the back of the crowdâthat's where he'd beâbut he's not there. Matveich locked the cafeteria doors. Nobody's allowed to leave. So where is he? Vovka is up to something bad again, definitely.
“But the spies miscalculated. Our fearless, keen-eyed State Security will spoil their plans, unmask the pack of terrorists, and catch them red-handed!” Sergei Ivanych strikes the podium. “Without mercy we'll sweep off the face of the earth this nest of treachery and filth!”
My classmate Anton shoves me in the back. “Zaichik, your dad's here.”
I push myself up so I can see through the window that opens onto the street. Anton's right. A black State Security automobile slides up to
the entrance. It must be him. He gave me the word of a Communist and he's kept it.
Thank you, Comrade Stalin. Thank you for helping my dad to keep his word.
the entrance. It must be him. He gave me the word of a Communist and he's kept it.
Thank you, Comrade Stalin. Thank you for helping my dad to keep his word.
“He's coming to the Pioneers rally,” says Anton, giggling. “Maybe he can catch the wreckers.”
I wait for the black doors to open, but when I see who steps out of the car, I turn away from the window fast. It's not my dad at all. It is the senior lieutenant who arrested my dad last night.
WHEN THE SENIOR lieutenant and his guards enter the cafeteria, Sergei Ivanych yells, “Spontaneous applause, everybody!” He claps wildly, until the teachers start clapping; then the rest of us join in, and we all clap for a long time. I wonder if this is what the newspapers mean when they say “a prolonged standing ovation.” Does it count if we were already standing when they came in?
Sergei Ivanych nods to Dubasov, our physical education teacher. Dubasov dives behind the curtain and instantly returns with a wooden crate overflowing with loose sheets of paper. We all know
what those are. Every class had to write a list of suspects of who might have broken off Stalin's nose. Dubasov sets the crate before the senior lieutenant and salutes him like a soldier. Sergei Ivanych waves him off and Dubasov darts out of the way, embarrassed. The lieutenant doesn't even look at the box. We are still applauding when he unbuckles his holster, pulls out his pistol, and points it at the ceiling. The cafeteria turns dead silent right away.
what those are. Every class had to write a list of suspects of who might have broken off Stalin's nose. Dubasov sets the crate before the senior lieutenant and salutes him like a soldier. Sergei Ivanych waves him off and Dubasov darts out of the way, embarrassed. The lieutenant doesn't even look at the box. We are still applauding when he unbuckles his holster, pulls out his pistol, and points it at the ceiling. The cafeteria turns dead silent right away.
He slips the pistol back into the holster. His eyes search the crowd, but his head doesn't move. I shift to where I think he won't see me, but I can't be sure; those eyes look like they see through walls.
“Whoever chipped the nose off the statue will now raise his hand,” he says quietly, but somehow everyone can hear, even in the back. I know this is when I should come clean, raise my hand, and confess right here in front of everybody.
Forget about becoming a Pioneer, Sasha Zaichik. Raise your hand. Raise your hand now.
I know this is what I
should do, but I hesitate, and somebody else's hand pops up to the left of the stage.
Forget about becoming a Pioneer, Sasha Zaichik. Raise your hand. Raise your hand now.
I know this is what I
should do, but I hesitate, and somebody else's hand pops up to the left of the stage.
The crowd gasps and heaves back, and there stands Four-Eyes Finkelstein, holding his hand up. The lieutenant frowns and nods to the guards. They cut through the crowd, lift Four-Eyes under the arms, and carry him to the exit. When they pass by where I'm standing, the crazy kid winks at me.
WE WALK FROM the cafeteria in pairs, holding hands. Talking is not allowed. I take the time to think about Four-Eyes.
We all saw the guards shoving him into the car. They did it the same wayâdoubling him over and pushing him inâas they had done to my dad last night. Now, squeezed between the guards, Four-Eyes is riding to Lubyanka prison, probably smiling his crazy smile at them. Why did he do it? Why did he take the blame for something he didn't do?
I imagine the car stopping at Lubyanka's gates, the guard stepping up, looking inside. He studies
Four-Eyes, waves the gates open. Is Four-Eyes scared? He must be scared, wondering what will happen inside. Nothing will happen, of course; he's just a kid. Kid or not, they'll probably search him for concealed weapons. They won't find anything. What can they find? A snowball? Then they'll take his clothes away and give him prisoner's pajamas. Prisoner's pajamas always have stripes on them. They will probably be too big for him; I doubt they have kids' sizes in there. Then the guards will lock him in a prison cell. Will he be alone, or will there be others in the cell? What if there are real criminals in there? What if they are enemies of the people? Spies and wreckers? What if my dad is in there, too? No, that's impossible. They don't lock a hero in a cell. But Finkelstein's dad could be there. His mom is probably in the women's quarters. His dad could be sitting in that cell, all worried, when the door opens and his son walks in. That'd be something to see.
Four-Eyes, waves the gates open. Is Four-Eyes scared? He must be scared, wondering what will happen inside. Nothing will happen, of course; he's just a kid. Kid or not, they'll probably search him for concealed weapons. They won't find anything. What can they find? A snowball? Then they'll take his clothes away and give him prisoner's pajamas. Prisoner's pajamas always have stripes on them. They will probably be too big for him; I doubt they have kids' sizes in there. Then the guards will lock him in a prison cell. Will he be alone, or will there be others in the cell? What if there are real criminals in there? What if they are enemies of the people? Spies and wreckers? What if my dad is in there, too? No, that's impossible. They don't lock a hero in a cell. But Finkelstein's dad could be there. His mom is probably in the women's quarters. His dad could be sitting in that cell, all worried, when the door opens and his son walks in. That'd be something to see.
I stop walking. People bump into me and the ranks get confused. “Keep in line, children, keep in line!” calls Nina Petrovna. Someone punches me in the back and I fall in with everybody again.
How stupid of me! I should have guessed it right away. Four-Eyes took the blame so he would be taken to Lubyanka. What a clever guy! He figured out how to get inside. He did exactly what he wanted, and I helped him. Well, not directly. But it doesn't matter now. Imagine how happy he'll be to see his dad, and how happy his dad will be to see him! I wonder if they have prison cells for whole families. Tonight they could be together, talking away. And who knows, maybe his parents are not enemies of the people after all. Maybe they were arrested by mistake, like my dad. Soon Stalin will let them all go. And if not, Four-Eyes is clever; he'll think of something.
Nina Petrovna holds the classroom door open and we file in. She pats each passing head, counting.
I smile at herâI can't help it. By the look on her face, I know the Pioneers rally is back on track. Soon I will see my dad. Soon I will become a Pioneer. Soon everything will be good again. But just as I'm getting in, Vovka Sobakin jumps out from behind the door and slams me into the wall. “Nice work,
Amerikanetz
.” His face is so close, his spit is all over me. “Let others take the blame. That's the Pioneer spirit.”
I smile at herâI can't help it. By the look on her face, I know the Pioneers rally is back on track. Soon I will see my dad. Soon I will become a Pioneer. Soon everything will be good again. But just as I'm getting in, Vovka Sobakin jumps out from behind the door and slams me into the wall. “Nice work,
Amerikanetz
.” His face is so close, his spit is all over me. “Let others take the blame. That's the Pioneer spirit.”
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