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The Ghost of Zibash. Bozkaragan?! What is it?
Komekbay. (He laughs). Oh, don’t you know? It means lilac in Kazakh.
The Ghost of Zibash. Lilac? Bozkaragan? What an unusual comparison. In general, you have a very good taste! And how do such beautiful words pop into your head? Oh, lilac smells so great in spring…
Komekbay. And you smell like that too.
The Ghost of Zibash. Really?
Komekbay. Have I ever lied to you?
The Ghost of Zibash. It’s true. Among the people I know, you are the most honest and fair, you never hypocrite, and you don’t try to please anyone. Moreover, your soul is full of poetry. For example, personally I have never seen a movie or read a book, in which a man calls his beloved woman “lilac”. Indeed, you are a true poet. Only your mouth can produce such miracles. By the way, I typed the verses that you dedicated to me on my computer and put them in my album.
Komekbay. Zibash, I adore you. I had never loved a woman so much before.
The Ghost of Zibash. Rakhmet, my sweetheart, you are my Yer Targyn, my Brad Pitt!.. Well, now wake up, wash your face, brush your teeth, clean up. The sun has risen a long time ago. If you keep on dozing off, you’ll have a worse headache. Moreover, as you said, your roaring woman, Rysty, will beat the hell out of you and will wonder “Where have you been all night?” Wake up!..
At this moment, the iron door of the holding cell is opened with a roar, the district police officer and Rysty enter the cell. Komekbay, frightened by the sudden noise, springs to his feet and stares at them without saying a word.
Rysty. Hey, get up!.. Morning’s here. You’ve probably already had enough sleep here.
Komekbay takes a step forward and holds out his handcuffed hands. The policeman comes up and removes the handcuffs. While uncuffing, the policeman and Komekbay look in each other’s eyes, their glares are especially meaningful and hostile.
Rysty. (She talks to Komekbay) Well, now let’s go home. (She points at the policeman with her index finger) Say thanks to this guy. Early in the morning, we went together to Nietali and did our best to persuade him to take back the complaint. Otherwise, you would be in jail. Now, be quiet and peaceful, don’t touch anyone. Got it?! If this happens again, don’t think that I will run around again, trying to help you out. Come on! Let’s go!..
Komekbay is quiet and meek, yesterday’s obstinacy vanished. It was noticeable that the holding cell influenced him. Now he is rather humbled, drooping lowly. He looks like an obedient elementary school student who is trying to follow the instructions of the class teacher. He lingers limply behind Rysty, obeying her words.
Komekbay. (When they went outside). What time is it?
Rysty. Why do you need it? Or are you probably late for your work at the office?
Komekbay. And yet…
Rysty. Eight, or eight thirty, I think.
Komekbay. Rysty, I’m sorry, this will never happen again.
Rysty. What else can I do, except forgive you? However, after your “shows” I feel like a shy young daughter-in-law, unable to look into people’s eyes and ashamed, for two or three weeks.
Komekbay. (His voice is trembling). I’m so sorry, this time I mean it.
Rysty. Let’s see how things go with Nietali. Everything is changing in this world. He can’t be so lucky all the time. Who knows, maybe the blue sky crane will sing in our hands as well. By the way, tomorrow a math teacher wants to take our Nazymbekzhan to the regional school Olympiad. It seems that the strongest, most capable guys will take part in the regional competition. And the commission selected two children in our aul for this, and one of them is your son, the other one is Zharas, the youngest son of Zharykbaskaynag.
Komekbay. Are you serious?!
Rysty. Yes… Last night at a class meeting, a math teacher praised Nazymbekzhan, saying: “You’ll see, in the end, Komekbaev will become a great scientist.”
Komekbay. My son, he’s just like me. He has protruding ears and great mind.
Rysty. (She stammers). Stop saying it, please! If he’s just like you, then I shouldn’t expect anything good from him!.. You are the one who said: “Our distant ancestor Koygeldi was a biy, he knew how to resolve all disputes, he was a sergeant major.” So, I think, our son shouldn’t guard the police station all night, like you. I wish he was just like that ancestor. I hope, none of my children will be just like you.
And both of them break off the conversation abruptly, as if agreeing to do it together. The couple enters their yard in a while. By this time, the whole aul has already waken up, another bright day of the great Creator begins. And as if rushing to tell the whole world about it, roosters cock-a-doodle-doo with inspiration, cows that already miss their calves walk on the meadows and moo gently, deep-voiced shepherd’s dogs bark occasionally, worrying about cattle, as usually.
The end.
e-mail: serik051@mail.ru