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PARTISAN REVIEW
ter no longer glistened. Twilight had come.
"Would you like some coffee?" asked the woman. "My place is
nearby."
"Forgive me," said Busch, extremely interested, "But do you happen
to have any sausage?"
Her answer was like crystal: "I have all that a lonely heart might
need."
*
*
*
I stayed with Busch and Galina for three weeks. Those were strange
days, filled with madness. Morning often began with quiet, anxious
singing by Galina in a child's voice, accompanied by Busch in his low
nasal baritone. Sometimes they would dance in the kitchen, each hum–
ming his own tune. Over tea, Galina would declare, "Call me Verochka
today. And tomorrow, Fire-Bird." In the afternoon, she would often
make telephone calls. She would dial a number at random. Having
reached someone, she would say affectionately, "Today something pleas–
ant and unexpected will happen to you." Or, "Beware of a woman
with a cherry on her hat."
Galina could foretell the future. She told me, for example, while
gazing at some small colored beads, "You'll end your days somewhere in
Brazil." (Back then, in 1975, I just laughed. But now I'm almost posi–
tive she'll prove right.) And so the days passed. My sixteen rubles disap–
peared quickly. Galina's pension was enough for only eight days. Busch
and I had to look for work. Suddenly I saw a notice posted: "Stokers
needed."
"Perfect," Busch said. "It's just what I need. It's time for me to
plunge into the depths of real life. To get in touch with my roots. Get
closer to nature! Closer to the simple man! To undiluted natural life!
Down with all metaphysics and transcendence! Long live the hammer and
the anvil!"
Galina interjected shyly, "Erika, you don't have the strength for that
kind of work!"
Busch gave her an angry look, and she fell silent.
The boiler house was a squat, dismal building at the foot of a
gi–
gantic smokestack. Heaps of coal were piled at the door. There were
shovels lying around and two overturned wheelbarrows. Inside, a young
man stood holding a heavy poker. Red flames writhed inside the fur–
naces. The young man squinted, averting his face.
"Hi," said Busch.
"Hullo," replied the stoker. "Are you guys new?"
"We came about the ad."
"Glad to meet you. My name's Oleg."
