KONSTANTIN
PAUSTOVSKY
It
was
at
this
time that Babel told me the strange story
of
Cires, a meek old Jew.
Babel bad moved to the center of the Moldavanka district,
renting a room
in
the apartment where Cires lived with
his
gloomy,
slow-moving wife, Hava. He had decided to write a few stories
which would be situated in this Odessa suburb, notorious for its
raq
way of life. Babel was attracted by the peculiar and unquestionably
talented bandits, like Mishka Yaponchik (Mike The Jap, or the
Benya Krik of his stories) who was already a living legend. The
dreary Cires apartment was as good a place as any from which
Babel could study life in the Moldavanka.
Steadfast as a rock, it was an island among the stormy, raucous
dives and the deceptively respectable apartments with their cro–
cheted doilies and seven-branched silver candelabra on the chests–
of-drawers--places where, under their parents' roofs, the robbers
could find refuge.
All around Cires' apartment one felt the presence of daring,
armed young men.
Babel explained to Cires that his purpose was to study the
Moldavanka district. The old man did not like it at all. In fact, he
grew quite worried.
"Oi, Mister Babe]!" he said, shaking
his
head. "Think of
it:
you're the son of such a well-known papa. And your mamma, she
was a real beauty too. I even heard that none other
than
the
nephew of Brodsky himself asked for her hand. So you can see that
the Moldavanka is no place for you, whatever kind of a writer you
may be. You'd better forget the Moldavanka for, I promise you,
no good'll come of it, and
if
you earn anything at all, it will be a
pocketful of trouble."
"What trouble?" Babel asked.
"Do I know what trouble?" Cires said, dodging the point.
"Who knows what nightmares a man like, say, Five-Rubles can
dream up? And I'm not talking about bullies like Luska Kur and
the rest of them. No, Mister Babel, the best thing you can do is go
back to your papa's house on Ekaterinskaya Street. And I tell you
frankly, I'm sorry already that I rented you that room. But then,
how could I possibly say no to such a nice young man?"
Sometimes, from his room, Babel heard Hava nagging at
her
