ANDREW. When I was a kid we were playing with knives behind our house – me, Bor’ka and Nataskha Sigalyovy – Sigalyata. One finger, then two, then three. They lived upstairs, and she’d always play the piano until my grandma knocked on the ceiling with the mop. Things were easy from about four years old. My grandma had a headache – smashed her skull in the war. She’d been dying for years. Headache, then shoulders, chin, lips, nose, eyebrows, forehead. Natashka started hanging out with soldiers, got married, to a soldier I guess, I don’t really remember, but throwing the knife was tricky, must have been the sun – you had to throw it up towards the moon, catch it behind your back. Natashka went to see some guy, came back, her and the guy owed someone money, someone wanted to kill him. The knife wouldn’t go in. I lost the game and Bor’ka carved a piece of rowan, a tiny piece not much bigger than a matchstick, and used the knife to pound it into the ground, I had to pull it out with my teeth. My face was in the dirt.
OKSANA. You fucking asshole. Why didn’t you stop that car?
ANDREW. Nobody’s stopping. Can’t you see that?
OKSANA. You ass-hat. What are they seeing? Some psycho car-jacker waving a knife around. Would you stop for that?
ANDREW. So you go and stop one.
OKSANA. I fucking will, then we’ll see.
ANDREW. So a car comes along. A green Zaporozhets. Only not towards Shichenga but back towards Volokovets. She walks to the edge of the road, puts her thumb out, the car stops. There are two old guys in the car. Like, a hundred and fifty. They’re smiling. Get in little girl and let’s go for a ride.
OKSANA. I’m going back to the city. I’m going to tell Seka what’s gone on and I’m gonna leave him to deal with this shit on his own.
ANDREW. Fucking bitch. Are you trying to get away?
OKSANA. He got so pissed. Threw down his knife, ran to the car, grabbed hold of me – waved the grandpas away. Keep on driving oldsters. They laughed – youngsters’ issues, cough cough, puttered away in their rust bucket.
ANDREW. What the fuck?
OKSANA. What? I have to sit here with you all night? Get your fucking hands off me.
ANDREW. I felt myself gong red. Got even angrier. What’s up with her? Is she crazy or what?
OKSANA. Then he starts yelling. It’s my fault I’m stuck out here. If I didn’t want to go I should just have refused to come. I just wanted him to shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.