Part One – There
(Eastern Hemisphere)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – THE COOL GAME
1
It was autumn-cold in the city, although many schoolboys hadn’t yet pulled on their pea coats or jackets over their gray school uniforms, steadfast waiting for a real drop of the temperature.
“Start doing your homework right after school,” mother said strictly, “otherwise, I’ll complain to your father and he prescribes you a belt treatment.”
Chivaly looked frowningly at his always-tired mother.
“She can do this. And father surely can do his part. He just gets his belt and leather my butt. And what for? He himself never studied neither algebra, nor grammar. Not even tried. He just bits me because of blues. What does he have in his life? Scarce salary? Two tiny half-basement rooms for four of us including the grandma? He even does not have friends – they are gone after Siberian exile.”
Chivaly’s father was son of the enemy of the people, Prince Iracly Orbeliani, who was shot during sad-known nineteen thirty-seven. He never recalled how he lived with his mother in exile in Kazakhstan, how he married there, had a son born and named him home name Chivaly in honor of child’s grandfather. Only grandmother could know the origins of this name, but after her interrogation she, alas, remembered nothing out of her unhappy life, not mention her husband’s childhood years.
But isn’t it a blessing to forgot all the bad? In fair days she warmed up under sun rays, sitting on the yard’s bench in the incense of her forgetfulness, smoking cheap cigarettes “Prima” for 14 kopeks a box through the long handmade mouthpiece, crafted at the metal workshop of prisoners’ camp.
How could she remember that the name Chivaly is a corrupted word ‘Chivalry’, which fell into the possession of Orbeliani family after King Louis XIV of France initiated the ancestor-diplomate into Knight’s Order.
And Chivaly’s father didn’t know anything at all, except hard work at the factory, evening Chacha – grape moonshine bought from the neighbor, an illegal distiller Gogi living at the floor two, and bed’s squeaks and dumped night moans, which he and his wife exchanged like convicts from their single chambers.
Before Kotik, a son of the laundry woman and an enemy POW enlighted Chivaly, he wondered what all these sounds may mean. When Chivaly was ten, he asked older Kotik: “Why she is making all these moans?”
“Well, how to say? … Well, he is poking her.”
A lamenting face of Chivaly slowly switched to mischievous one.
“What did you think that he strangled her?” a neighbor cheered him up and winked friendly, “Do not upset about it. They feel pleasure. They are lucky having it at least.”
All basement dwellers lived their tough soviet life, although most people on the floor two and three had not had much better life. However, everybody had to attend either work or school. In this way, all were equal.
“All right, Mom,” nodded Chivaly. “I know it myself – to homework!”
It was nothing to argue about, both perfectly knew that Chivaly is lying; he will not do any homework, but will again go with Kotik to the street to smoke stolen from grandma “Prima” and to play street games.
But Mom didn’t know that a new secret game came in sight of her son. Nobody knew about it yet, even Kotik, a closest confidant of Chivaly’s youth secrets.
2
The game was originated accidentally, but immediately evolved from a harmless competition into a wicked passion. That how it happened.
Once, Chivaly ascended to the second floor returning to the neighbors a hot sauce, borrowed by his parents. It was a common practice in the yard to share salt, sugar and spices with neighbors. Who runs to a store in case your salt supplies is suddenly finished or you need a tablespoon of hot sauce for you dinner?
Some neighbors pour off a little in your plate or cup, others gave you the whole jar or bottle: “Bring it back later.” So was this time. Hearty moonshiner Gogi from the second floor lent his neighbors the whole bottle of Sacibeli – tomato sauce with hot pepper and garlic, and now Chivaly brought it back. The twelve years old girl, Ia was alone at home.
“Here is your sauce. A tasty one!” praised it Chivaly returning the bottle.
Ia opened it, poured a little on her palm and licked it.
“True. Very tasty! Do you want some?”
“OK!” agreed Chivaly, planned to put his hand under the bottleneck, but Ia at once stretched her palm with a red spot of the sauce on it towards him.
“Have it, eat!” she said.
Unexpectedly for himself, Chivaly took her hand and started licking out hot sauce, spreading it all over her palm. Some sort of strange filling embraced him. If Ia was his classmate with overt curves, which boys love touching as if by accident, then he understood everything. Now he well comprehend in men-women relationships, and he feels funny that a few years later he was afraid that his father tortured his mother, until Kotik explained him what is what. However, Ia was a slim slender girl with two plaits: no scent of sex was even present here.
Nevertheless, some strange inexplicable feelings dragged Chivaly towards a little coquette. Though perhaps quite normal and understandable. He already felt how unknown forces grow in his scuffed school trousers. So, he decided to give the girl a farewell kiss and to round up with this strange game.
Chivaly pulled slightly her hand towards himself while trying to embrace her skinny shoulder with the other hand. But, Ia twitched backwards, both lost their balance and fell on a coach: Chivaly on top of Ia.
Even if she had a breast, it was little, barely formed under brown school dress and a wool black apron. And her cheeks were delicate and hot. But the heat came out not from them. The boy did not know what furnace his beastie poke into, but it begun to pound as if it got into a trap.
Chivaly stood up and headed for the door, coursing hot sauce and his foolish condition, frightening that his trousers now get wet, and everybody will see his shame.
“Bye!” he said. “I got to go.”
“Come again!” invited him Ia. “We’ll wrest more. I should won!”
Since then their secret game has started.
Chivaly with a book in his hands never walked up the yard spiral staircase in plain sight of the neighbors. He always exited the street through the yard gate, went along the facade until the house front door and went up wide wooden stairs. Ia always opened him the front door, they passed to her room where their contest started.
Chivaly, as a strong and noble chevalier, gave to the “lady” a bonus: he sat at the edge of a sofa while Ia moved to the door from where she had a running start and then pushed him in a chest with both hands. He started to keep balance and resist her pushes, but soon understood that loosing is even more pleasant thing. He allowed Ia to pressure with all her body in attempt to pin down his back to the coach as to a wrestling rug. And he pocked into her abdomen and groin, holding her from behind with his both hands. They rolled and roared until his panty got wet. He kissed Ia tenderly on the cheek and quickly withdrew. He had to wash and steam his school trousers not to let mother to dawn upon anything.
“Did you steamed your trousers?” asked she once with surprise, touching his pants hanged over the chair.
“Yes. We have a school day concert,” lied Chivaly.
His concert was in a totally different place.
3
One day a surprise was waiting for Chivaly. Ia had a guest, her relative Tamuna. Ia introduced her friend to her:
“This is my neighbor, Chivaly. We wrestle with him.”
Tamuna being only two years older than Ia looked rather like Chivaly’s classmate. She was tall, developed girl, and her breasts captivated attention of seniors in the school.
“How do you play? Teach me. I want also to play wrestle,” she was rejoice to unusual entertainment.
“Watch, that’s how we do it.”
Ia thrown herself at the opponent and they snuffled on the coach.
At this time, a new rivalry and wrestling with her occupied thoughts of Chivaly. He withstood first round of Ia’s attacks, and yield to her in second one and lost the game.
“I won!” bowled out the girl and sitting over Chivaly glued in a kiss to him.
“Is it also your game?” Tamuna asked watching everything taking place with a great interest.
“Yes. A winner kisses a looser, not to let him feeling too offended.”
“So both are kissing at the end? Clear! Well I want also to play. Do you mind, Chivaly?”
His voice got stock in his throat, dried out of excitement. The youth nodded his head and next moment strong hit in his chest overturned him on a coach. Chivaly had no slight knowledge of physics, but from personal experience knew that the push result depends of the weight of a fighter, and now it was proved once again. Tamuna pushed in Chivaly’s chest and he pushed back against two elastic pillows under her uniform. What a wonderful game! Does any girl in the school could stand such an impudent behavior? But the guest wanted in all means to win. Chivaly hold with his hands Tamuna’s round buttocks, while she in unison squeezed up against his standing hill-like combative school trousers and pushed, pushed until he slumped back in an exhaustion.
“It’s my victory!” announced turned-red Tamuna and prized Chivaly with a juicy adult deeply kiss.
“Yak! You kissed him in the mouth!” exclaimed Ia. “That is why you aspire a victory so much! But such kisses are out of rules!”
“I do not mind,” grinned the youth, but I had to go… to do my homework.”
And he run away, pressed his book to the abdomen.
4
Since then, wrestling became a more popular game. Almost every day Ia stepped out at the balcony to hang wet laundry and it became a signal for Chivaly, that the adults weren’t in the apartment, and it’s free to enter. He grabbed his book and using circuitous way, throughout the front entrance headed to the second floor, which became for him as a new level of his half-basement life. Already twice, he run into neighbors at the main staircase, who asked him where he is going? Chivaly threw them abruptly on the run: “In training!” ascended to the third floor and run to the yard by inner spiral staircase only for in a minute to repeat his attempt.
Wrestling with Ia now seemed him a childish fuss. His new competitor occupied all his thoughts and even dreams. But, despite daytime reveries, Chivaly started to read more. He was ashamed to show his ignorance. What interesting he can tell the girls? Indecent verses, which boys learned from each other:
“It’s not your business stupid blunt!
Nor the burden of your c**t!
Nor your as, your tits, or skin!
Whom I want, I let him in.”
And he decided to find himself a teacher. Where he could find money for that? But the life itself pointed towards a solution: on the second floor, next to Ia’s apartment lived a boy, by name Nick. He was four years younger Chivaly, same age as Ia, outstanding student and book lover. To him, indeed, Chivaly decided to apply for help, as if he anticipated that in a few years Nick will truly become a tutor and will financially support his family. So far their studies carried a character of Boy Scout help. In response, Chivaly tried to teach Nick Street fighting, but soon he dropped this wain training and promised to break the nose to anybody, who attempts to offend Nick or take his money. But students with lowest grades and bullies did not offend Nick. He did not have pocket money and they did not want to spit in a dwell from where they could drew a homework and a problem solution on a test.
Kotik from the yard just amazed, what happened with Chivaly. Instead of hanging around, play a soccer ball under running cars and smoke stolen cigarettes, Chivaly sat days with books, scribbled somehow his homework and hanged with underage Nick. Moreover prompted by his volunteer tutor, he even went to History museum to see the portrait of his great grandfather, Prince Georgy Orbeliani, a hero of a Russian-Turkish war of 1877-78.
But the secret affair with Tamuna continued to develop. Found that he bearing very prestigious Nobel family name, she invited him at home. Of course she did not even suspect how revolution and time severely dealt with his family. Mother often told Tamuna to make friendship with boys from noble families, so she decided that pretty and strong Chivaly Orbeliani is quite good for friendship and invited him to their place. No, not to meet with her parents, but to play in their bellowed wrestling without IA, her sharp remarks and reserved role, which she always assigned to Tamuna.
It was the cold autumn day. Dank rain was drizzled, and Chivaly for a long time cleaned his boots against the mat in front of a nice oak door. Eventually he made a decision and called. Tamuna opened the door, blushed out of happiness and confusion.
“Hi!” he said, “What’s up?”
“Just… waiting for you,” answered girl, and everything inside him broke off, as if he had dived of the cliff like a swallow.
“Let’s play?” asked he overcoming cramps in his throat.
“Yep!” nodded Tamuna and led the guest to her room.
The coach hospitable welcomed their young bodies. It was their usual game. But not – unusual! They kissed as crazy, as if waiting for separation, misery and death. They caress each other as experienced and shameless lovers. She herself unbuttoned his ironed school trousers; he pulled down her green pantyhose and white briefs. Short
“No!” she exhaled into Chivaly’s mouth, when a short pain impaled her, and then she had drowned in a sharp pleasure.
5
Two weeks in a row, Chivaly was skipping studies with Nick and then called him to talk.
“Do you have problem? At school? At home?” asked Nick. “Do you need help?”
Chivaly just nodded.
“Not at school and not at home, but problems may appear there too. I even do not know how to tell you things and whether I should tell you them at all. You are still a little boy, how will you help me? But, I can’t keep silent and to tell nobody. It’s too little use of Kotik either. He can help in a street fight. Well … in stealing something too.”
“As you wish. But if you share with me, I promise to keep secret.”
Chivaly thought silently for a while, scaling the words of a neighbor boy. He probably desperately needed somebody’s advice, or he just wanted to ease his soul.
“My girlfriend got pregnant!” he said eventually.
Stunned with news Nick opened his mouth, kept opened, not knowing what exactly people say in this situation, and closed it again.
“You’re like Romeo and Juliette! You’ll have a baby! Congratulations!” flushed in his head. But, would he said something similar, he would have easily receive a punch in the teeth from a gloomy candidate into fathers.
“And what kind of a help do you need?”
“I need to find an obstetrician and I need money for Tamuna’s abortion.”
“I cannot help you with money, but I know a midwife.”
“You?” Chivaly jumped at the spot. Where from?”
“She is my grandmother. Well, my grandfather’s sister. She is a famous midwife.”
“Can she perform an abortion?”
“I doubt that. She is old and haven’t been working for a long time, but she knows everybody and will advise something.”
Next day after school Chivaly and Nick went by tram to the Central Market, where in a small apartment lived two spinsters, sisters of Nick’s grandfather, Golda and Bertha. Oldest one, eighty years old Golda was very experienced midwife and before retiring worked in the special hospital for the members of Government. There she delivered babies of party and minister’s wives and their closest ones. But, life is more complex then work, therefore during long years of work, Golda met complicated situations in which people wanted not the best care and delivery, but best relieve from them.
Chivaly initially stayed at the street and Nick went to visit his grandmothers. They didn’t open a door to him for a long time. Eventually chain has clanked and gray hairs and wrinkled face of old Golda, attentively studied a visitor, appeared in the door slit.
“Oh, who came to us!” she rejoice at seeing the boy. “Nick! Sorry that we did not opened at once. Bertha is out and I am alone at home.”
“Even better, grandma Golda,” said Nick, “I need to consult you face to face.”
“What’s the matter?” Golda got anxious.
“One girl got pregnant and needs an abortion!” fired Nick in one exhale.
“It’s nonsense! You aren’t a father! She is lying!”
“Do not worry Golda! It’s not me. She is not lying!”
And Nick told her Chivaly’s history. “A tragedy will happen, if not to help them. Tamuna’s parents will expel her from home, and will sue him for the rape. But it will not end with a verdict, because boy’s father is a former prisoner, he’ll kill his son and go to prison himself!”
Golda immediately believed in Nick’s story.
“I need to talk to Tamuna,” said wise old woman, “Therefore, initially let’s meet Chivaly.”
And the business started… Chivaly talked with Golda, then brought Tamuna to her, then they went to suburbs to meet one former nurse, and then, when everything had left behind, they decided to celebrate happy end.
6
To celebrate something meant to drink alcohol at those times. Probably, it was and it will be in all times, but in that country ant that time, there just did not exist a place for the youth to celebrate anything. They didn’t have money for a restaurant, also they may not let youth alone inside, and is it a celebration to go and eat pizza?
Therefore, they generated very simple but not honest idea – to ask Ia to steal some Chacha from her father’s supplies. Tamuna took this part of operation upon herself. She came to Ia, who already stopped wrestling tournaments – inviting bras and briefs on a laundry rope Chivaly ignored. But, girls did nor brake their friendship, they just meet now less often.
“I need to find a hundred – hundred fifty cc of Chacha to remove some notes in my daily marks and assignment book,” explained Tamuna her need in alcohol. “Could you pour out such amount from ankle Gogi supplies?”
“Sure, I can,” said Ia. “Dad has tremendous amount of different alcohols. But you poorly orientate in chemicals. Chacha spoils your book badly, that you’ll have a lot of troubles. I’ll give you some alcohol. It is stronger and makes work better. And if you need vodka, you mix it half and half with water.”
“Thank you Ia. You are a real friend,” wished good-buy happy Tamuna.
Chivaly waited her at the street behind the corner of the house. Lately he was lucky in everything. It was time to restart his studying with Nick, to enter the technical evening school, get a worker’s specialty and start working. Who knows, maybe they will be able to live together with Tamuna and even have children.
Happily, they moved along the former Tsar Nikolay’s street towards Tamuna’s house at the German Square. At the tramline crossing with the Theatric slope, across from Russian church there were a bakery and a cafe, where one may bought fresh pastries, tea, coffee and lemonade.
Chivaly ordered two eclairs, two coffees and a bottle of lemonade – to have a feast! He secretly poured alcohol from the small bottle into glasses with the lemonade – slightly more to himself, less to Tamuna. It could cover three toasts: for themselves, for good friends and for the bright future. But bright future, alas did not happened – Tamuna’s mother passed by the café and spotted her daughter.
Drilled the pretty boy with her eyes, Tamuna’s mother at once recognized signs of his proletarian origin by his frugal dress and rough boots. She asked,
“What are you doing here, sweetheart? Who are you with?”
“It’s not your business stupid blunt!
Nor the burden of your c**t!” flushed well-known lines in boy’s memory.
“This is my friend, Chivaly,” answered Tamuna.
“Very pleasant,” said Mother. “You have a rare name. Unfortunately, I have to still my daughter from you now. Tamuna do not even try to oppose!”
“That’s OK, Tamuna. We’ll meet tomorrow,” promised Chivaly.
“Come to us after school,” girl invited her friend unexpectedly brave for herself. “You do not mind, right Mom? His last name is Orbeliani.”
Mom casted up her eyebrows in surprise. How could she made a mistake in his origin? She did not have time for analyzing an issue. No problem, will find out later:
“Please, come by. We’ll talk, drink a cup of tea. Let me assure you, cream in the pastry will be much better than this one, god knows when made.”
“Thank you. Good buy,” took farewell Chivaly.
He wanted to stand up from the chair, but suddenly felt vertigo and left seated, not to lose his balance and not to reveal his light drunkenness.
7.
Tamuna with her mother exited the café, sailed passed the window glasses and turned behind the corner. Then Chivaly killed his glass of lemonade with the alcohol and then – Tamuna’s one. After all not to spoil the goods. He did not want to eat their pastries. He fell nauseous. Is it really Tamuna’s mom is right, and cream in eclairs is bad? But how come he get drunk so quick? Not big deal hundred cc of vodka. All right, less than one hundred fifty. It became dark in his eyes. Head was split with the pain. Chivaly jumped out of the café and bent at the tree on a curb. He threw up vigorously.
“I should take a tram and go home,” he thought, but could not cross the street to catch the tram’s stop. Pavement, curb, buildings – everything deformed and waved, traffic light at the streets crossing blinked with three purple lights. It appeared to him, that people around blamed him in killing the baby, threaten with fists, and Tamuna’s mother stretching her red lacquering nails to his throat.
Eventually, he pulled himself together and under car’s sirens and driver’s coursing, he crossed the street to the tram’s stop. Climbing the streetcar was also hard task, he did not have enough power, but Chivaly overcame this obstacle too and placed himself at corner of the last seat.
“Getting off on the second stop!” brought he to his own recollection and fell into sleep it the tram, going through out the whole city to Naftlugi Jewish cemetery.
Tamuna arm-in-arm with her Mom reached her home and threw up there.
“What did I told you!” declared Mom. “A doubtful company! Real Orbeliani say farewell standing and do not eat cheap cream. Good we have enough mineral water “Borjomi”. Drink and throw until you get rid of all contamination.”
All the rest of the evening they deal with stomach wash up, and Mom weighted what is more useful: to make a scandal in the café, where they sell pastry with bad cream or to her daughter, who is buying this crap.
And in the Chivaly’s yard, his parents agitated discussed with the neighbors, why their son did not returned home. Only Kotik saw his friend at the way to school. He was in white shirt, probably for the school day concert. But not about day concert, nor evening parties anybody heard anything.
In the morning local police officer reported to parents and neighbors that Chivaly lost his consciousness in the streetcar, but fortunately, passengers found it, just when the tram was passing by a city hospital # 1, called among people Aramyantz hospital, after rich Armenian industrialist of the beginning of XX century, who paid off most part of its creation.
Good Samaritans on their hands brought the lad into the Emergency room, and doctors instantly started treatment of methyl alcohol poisoning. This saved Chivaly’s life. He survived but for a long time had very bad vision and could not distinguish colors. He stopped his studies with Nick and moved to the foster home for blind and poorly seeing people.
Gradually Chivaly and Tamuna stopped communicating, their ways diverged. Kotik dropped the school and in the spring, he had been taken to army for three years. Ia slightly add weight, became even prettier and again started to hang her underwear at the laundry rope.
Once she noted that Nick was watching her at this activity. She confused, smiled at him and friendly proposed:
“Are you busy now? Come in, I’ll teach you one cool game!”
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