SERGEI DOVLATOV
183
"Let's continue," Khuriev said. The actors put out their ciga–
rettes. "Next come Timofey and Polina. The scene in the reception
room of the Cheka. Timofey is manning the switchboard. Polina
enters. Begin!"
Gesha sat on a stool and grew pensive. Polina took a few steps
toward him, fanning herself with a rose-colored handkerchief. "Tim–
osha! Yoo-hoo, Timosha!"
Timofey: "Why have you come? Or is something wrong at
home?"
"I can't live without you, my grey-winged dove."
Timofey: "Go home, Polya. This is no village reading room."
Lebedyeva pressed her fists to her temples and let out an op-
pressive, piercing howl: "You don't love me anymore, don't fancy
me.... You've ruined the best years of my life . ... I'm all alone
now, like a mountain ash in a meadow."
Lebedyeva had trouble suppressing her sobs. Her eyes turned
red. Mascara ran down her wet cheeks. Timofey, on the other hand,
behaved almost mockingly. "That's the kind of work it is," he said
through his teeth.
"Why can't we run off to the ends of the earth!" Polina wailed .
"To do in General Wrangel and the White Army, is that it?"
Gesha said, tensing up suddenly.
"Excellent," Khuriev said. "Lebedyeva, don't stick out your be–
hind. Chmykhalov, don't upstage the heroine." (This was how I
learned Gesha's real name, Chmykhalov.) "Let's go. Enter Dzer–
zhinsky. 'Ah, the younger generation!'"
Tsurikov cleared his throat and said gloomily, "Ah, the whore;
the younger generation!"
tie.
"What kind of parasitical words are those?" Khuriev broke in.
"Ah, the younger generation!"
"Good health, sir, Felix Edmundovich," Gesha said, rising a lit-
"You're supposed to be flustered," Khuriev said.
"I think he should stand up ," Gurin gave his opinion.
Gesha jumped up, overturning the stool. Then he saluted,
touching his palm to his shaved head.
"Good health, sir!" he shouted.
Dzerzhinsky reached out and squeamishly shook his hand.
Homosexuals were not liked in the zone. Especially passive ones.
"More dynamic!" Khuriev urged.
Gesha started talking faster. Then even faster. He rushed on,
swallowing words, "I don't know how to proceed, Felix Edmundo-
