400
K0 NSTAN TIN PA UST0 VS
KY
mind. He was at rest only when asleep. During the day he was con–
tinually on the move, prancing around, turning cartwheels, making
faces, smashing things on the floor, racing around the garden
with
bloodcurdling shrieks, tumbling on the ground, swinging on doon,
emitting theatrical guffaws, tormenting the dog, meowing, tearing
out his hair in temper tantrums, wailing hideously without tears,
pocketing dying lizards with their tails cut off, and crabs (which
he released onto the breakfast table), begging things, insulting
people, stealing fishing tackle--and to crown it all-he spoke
in
a
raucous, hoarse voice:
"And what's that?" he'd ask. "And what's it for? And
is
it
possible to make dynamite out of a blanket? And what would hap–
pen if a man drank a glass of tea with sand in it? And who in,
vented your funny name Paustovsky which my grandma can only
pronounce after dinner? And could you catch a tram from behind
1
with your fishing hook and pull it back? How would it
be
if
one
made jam out of crabs?"
It
is
easy to imagine how we loved the company of that kid.
"That spawn of hell!" was how Babel spoke of him, a blue flame
shining in his eyes.
Lusya's very presence made Babel so nervous that he couldn't
write. He used to come to our dacha to get relief from Lusya,
groaning with exhaustion. He addressed Lusya as "my boy," in
such a voice that the lop-eared child's hair would have bristled
in terror,
if
only he had had enough imagination.
The sultry days dragged on but the mother-in-law showed
1
not the slightest sign of leaving. "All
is
lost," Babel moaned, hold–
ing his head in his hands, "this is the end of everything. My skull
is humming like a brass kettle, as though that spawn of hell were
banging on it with a stick from morning to night."
We were trying to devise a way of getting rid of Lusya and
his garrulous grandma. But, as often happened, Babel was saved
by an unexpected little incident.
Once I went to pick up Babel in the morning to go for a swim
as we had agreed the night before. He was writing at his desk,
looking very harassed. As I entered the room, he jumped, and
without looking around began to . stuff his . manuscript into a
drawer,almost tearing it
i~ ·
th.e process.
