VICTOR LIAPIN

 

OH, “MERSEDEL”!

 

Translated by Ivan Lyapin

 

 

«You should just love these people. And love endures everything”.

 

 

Contact the author at:

Email: snybegemota@yandex.ru

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/victor.liapin

Site: http://lit.lib.ru/editors/l/ljapin_w_w/

http://snybegemota.wixsite.com/mysite

 

THE CHARACTERS:

GRIGORY DOLGOV, over sixty years old

ANTONINA DOLGOVA, Dolgov’s ex-wife, sixty years old

VERA RYKOVA, Dolgov’s nowadays lover, over fifty years old

 

It’s Antonina’s flat. There are carpets, a wall cabinet, crystal, a mini system, an expensive TV set. On the table there is a bottle of brandy and a vase with fruit. On the wall there is a reproduction of Shishkin.

Dolgov is sitting at the table. Antonina’s perched on the sofa. Rykova is in the kitchen.

 

DOLGOV. Why on earth have you come?... Tell me why?...

ANTONINA. Why do you ask why?... I wanna just check on you, Grisha… I miss you so badly….

RYKOVA. (From the kitchen) Don’t forget, Grisha – we’re invited to the guests today!...

DOLGOV. You shouldn’t come here…

   Why are you steamed like a lobster?... Been in the bath house or what?...

ANTONINA. Yes, I’m right from there. I had a wash. I changed into all fresh.

   … Why did you leave me, Grisha?... It’s no good… It’s not as others do…

DOLGOV. Oh, there you go again… I told you: cut this song!... It’s all settled. Why talk about it one hundred times?...

   … I feel more cheerful here… The society, the acquaintances… We get together – and we can play at cards, can discuss whatever we want!... The Life, in one word.

   Like, do you want some brandy?...

ANTONINA.  But, what about me?... The society… But you are at your seventies!... We lived together five decades… You’d think about the soul!... This society won’t even bury you as it should be…

DOLGOV. Stop it!... Say, why you’ve come – and… and go away. I have no time.

ANTONINA. But what should I do?... I’m left alone…

DOLGOV. Be neither sugar nor salt… I bestow you the flat…

ANTONINA. Good Lord! What the life I lead?

DOLGOV. You have no right to keep me from it… Any lawyer can affirm this… I’ve had a consultation…

RYKOVA. (In the doorway) Should I serve coffee or not?... Ah?... You, Antonina, prefer with lemon or brandy?...

ANTONINA. I never drank your brandy in my life… With lemon, please.

RYKOVA. Hot toasts, hot dogs, Austrian cookies?...

ANTONINA. Save and forbid! Maybe some other time…

RYKOVA. Ok, I’m coming.

DOLGOV. (To Antonina) You, go easy… Hear me? You’re not at home…

ANTONINA. I see, Grigory.

 

Rykova comes in with a tray. Cups of coffee, a sugar bowl and a saucer with lemon are on it.               

 

RYKOVA. French crystal!... My son has just come from Paris, with this present for Mother.

ANTONINA. I wish I wouldn’t break it….

RYKOVA. Yeah, try not to do it, Antonina.

DOLGOV. Crystal is a delicate thing…

ANTONINA. Well, while we never got a child from Lord…

DOLGOV. (Angrily) Hell of a Summer, isn’t it? It’s hot and then it’s cold!

RYKOVA. One more coffee?

ANTONINA. No, thank you. The heart is already jumping.

    … Oh, what’s with me?!.. What a fool!... I forgot!... I’ve baked some pies – blueberry, raspberry. As you like, Grisha! (Takes the pies from the bag) Help yourself! And you help yourself, Vera!

 

Dolgov makes a long arm for a pie and bites it with pleasure.    

 

RYKOVA. No, thanks. We must not. Grisha always has heartburn after baked things. And his hip aches. We’d better have toasts.

ANTONINA. How come? … He always loved it!... Home, warm…

DOLGOV. (Pulling out the bitten pie from his mouth) Why are you sticking with your pies?... Give it a rest! She told you, no need…

ANTONINA. But how come?... Take it just… You said, you have guests… Well, to the guests… To the children…

RYKOVA. Such a woman you are, Antonina, really! Try to understand – we don’t need. Have it yourself.

ANTONINA. Good Lord! Even here in a poor way!...

RYKOVA. (Clearing away) Grisha! I’ll be in the kitchen. Call me, if anything… I’ve ironed your shirt, that, blue, that you like… Don’t forget, you have to take the syrup.

DOLGOV. Yeah, I remember.

ANTONINA. Are you ill? (Caressing his arm)  

DOLGOV. Well, I just receive treatment out of sheer idleness… She goes to expense, buys costly medications – she has money to burn.

ANTONINA. A rich skirt.

DOLGOV. Stop it, I said.

ANTONINA. I will.

   … Now I come home. Sit down. And have no one to talk to. I’m going mad, Grisha – I talk to the TV. It tells me about Albania and the homeless. While I tell him about how you’ve left me.

    … I cry, I complain – and it seems to be easier. I had a cat but she ran away. Lured away too. She was a good cat, ginger. Nyuska.

DOLGOV. … As if without cats that wasn’t enough!...

     … How is the neighbor? Matveich?

ANTONINA. He’s in hospital. Katrine goes to visit him. There’s barely any one on the bench near the house, everyone’s so busy.

    … I went to the church, Grisha… I lit a candle for you. The priest asked me to take you there.

DOLGOV. You complained of me even there, didn’t you?

ANTONINA. Forgive me, Grisha! I’m a fool.

DOLGOV. We’re not officially married. Can you see it?

ANTONINA. Do I mind?

       

A pause.

 

DOLGOV. … Well? … Is that all?... Or you have any other news?...

ANTONINA. Vadik, from the third floor, bought a car…

DOLGOV. You don’t say! Heh, rascal!

ANTONINA. Yes. “Mercedel”.

DOLGOV. Ah?

ANTONINA. “Mercedel”.

RYKOVA. (In the doorway) Not “Mercedel”, but “Mercedes”. You’re just like down in the country, Antonina!

DOLGOV. “Mercedel”! Shame on you, scatterbrain! “Mercedel”! You’re still like that! Don’t know the simplest name! And you watch TV!

ANTONINA. I’ve become confused. I’m sorry, Grisha.

 

Rykova sits down near Dolgov and lays her head on his shoulder.

 

RYKOVA. Have a taste of the apples, Antonina, please. From our garden. Grisha got them in himself.

DOLGOV. (Having a try) Tasty.

RYKOVA. And here are my ficus plants. Do you like them? They’re literally shining!... Aren’t they?...

ANTONINA. Yes, they are.

RYKOVA. Do you know the gimmick? Every morning I wipe them with sunflower oil.

DOLGOV. Just the waste of the oil. You’d better pour it harder in the salad.

ANTONINA. Do not say this, Grisha. She does it for you.

DOLGOV. I did say nothing. Let her wipe.

ANTONINA. (To Rykova) … At night it is the worst… I do not sleep at all. So lonely, as I howl from pain.

RYKOVA. I can give you sleeping medicine. Do you wanna?

ANTONINA. Yes, sweet, give me a pill. I’ll try it today, you know, I’m so tortured.

RYKOVA. The pill will do good.

DOLGOV. Yes, the pill will do good.

ANTONINA. Thank you so much. I do know how to thank you.

DOLGOV. Well, it’s time for us to go.

ANTONINA. Already?

RYKOVA. We should set out. You know, we go to the guests.

ANTONINA. Vera! Grigory! Just one more second! Just a second! Lend your ear to an old fool like me!

    … Vera! You are a noble woman; it doesn’t probably suit you to do some… housework. Please, allow me to come here - I can either mop the floor or concoct something in the kitchen. I’m a good cook, don’t judge me by these pies. Like, Grigory never complained!

DOLGOV. What’s with you, old woman?! Went mad completely? Are you gonna be a maid?...

ANTONINA. I’m grieving so much… And here I can see you at least, now and then…

RYKOVA. Okay, listen, Antonina, we do not need it… I’m none of a kid glove, and I perfectly cope with the housework myself…

ANTONINA. Please, allow me to come at least once in a week?... To mop the floor, to dust something?...

DOLGOV. She told you, didn’t she? Why are you so… my God!... Ough, such a shame!... What devil brought you over here?!...

     If you need money, just say it. I’ll give you money.

ANTONINA. … What should I do with it, with your money?... Collect for a coffin?...

DOLGOV.  Oh, why are you so … stubborn?! … madcap!...

ANTONINA. So, you don’t let me come here?...

RYKOVA.  Just think about it, Antonina! What will it look like? You’ll feel awkward, I - ashamed… And Grisha will suffer!... You know, he needs quietness…

ANTONINA. But I do not need quietness, do I?... So you say, that I just get in your way… Right?... Is that right, Grisha?

   … I’m quite hard bitten but I’ve never felt such a grief…

 

Antonina pokes about in her basket, takes out a pack of paper and photos.                      

 

ANTONINA. Then, take it, Grisha. Look, here are our wedding photos, you’re in a soldier’s blouse… Your letters, the certificate, different papers…

DOLGOV. What do I need them for?

ANTONINA. Ah, for whatever… You can either chuck the fifty years away or burn them… Anyway, now I have my conscience good.

     The passport, the pensioner card, the bankbook, the will. Here is the address of the niece in Klin, write to her, when it all comes right. 

     … Well, good by. Really, I sat too long.

 

Antonina gets on her feet and goes, though she comes not into the hall but into the kitchen and shuts the door.

 

DOLGOV. (Perplexedly) What passport?... What bankbook?... Are you crazy or what? Are you mad?... Vera, what’s with her? What for? I do not know what from which…  

RYKOVA. Antonina, don’t take it unkindly – we mean it for the best…

 

Rykova tries to open the kitchen door. It doesn’t open.

 

RYKOVA. Antonina, unlock the door!... Grisha! Grisha! She’s locked the door!

DOLGOV. Tonka! Madcap! Unlock! Unlock, till I call the police! Don’t disgrace yourself like a stupid girl!

     Verka, give me the pry, or the ax – what’s this about?...

 

Meantime, Antonina coolly closes the window. Then she turns on all the rings on a cooking stove and sits down on a chair.    

 

ANTONINA. Too late, Grisha, it’s too late… It’s over, sweet, our happiness is over… I’d have some tea in the end, as I didn’t have any tea after the bathhouse, a sinner…

   … I won’t come back there, Grisha… There’s no place I can come back to…  

Here I’ll stay, near you… Grisha, my darling, my sweetheart!... You’re my sunshine!

RYKOVA. Grisha, a smell of gas!!! Grisha, she’s turned on the gas!... Grisha, my goodness!...

DOLGOV. Tonya!... My bird! Don’t do that, Tonya!!...

 

Dolgov helplessly goes down the floor near the door.

 

DOLGOV. Why’re you doing this?

RYKOVA. Antonina! We agree, agree! Come to us, wash, clean!... What’s this, my God?!... Help!!!... Antonina!...

 

Silence.

 

RYKOVA. Grisha?! What to do, Grisha?!

DOLGOV. Okay, Tonya…, I…., I’ll come back… Do you hear me? I’ll come back…

 

The door is opening. Behind it there’s Antonina, pale as a chalk. She can hardly stand straight. Rykova rushes into the kitchen and turns all the rings off, then throws up a window. Antonina falls on her knees in front of Rykova and embraces her legs. 

 

ANTONINA. Thank you, honey!... Thank you, dear… For bread and salt - thank you… (Kisses Rykova, who’s taken aback) Your ficuses are wonderful, amazing ficuses… I’ll bring you some oil for your ficuses…

DOLGOV. Ah, Tonya, Tonya… This clearly wouldn’t do!...

ANTONINA. This wouldn’t, Grisha, this wouldn’t… A sinful soul… I’ll thank you until death, you’ll never hear me talking back… Forgive me, Grisha, forgive me…

RYKOVA. (Perplexed) So what’s to be done?...

ANTONINA. Come for a visit… Well…, let’s go, Grisha?

    Good by!... Shall we kiss or what?... Okay, we shall not…, yeah, we shan’t.        

 

Antonina takes Dolgov by the arm and leads him to the door.

 

ANTONINA. … Grisha, you won’t leave, will you?...

DOLGOV. How can I?! I wish someone’d give me a cue…   

 

THE END.