15

One day, in the end of August Gran Zoya and I had a very big argument.

It was one of those rare sunny days of late summer; after the incessant cold rains the pale sun, no longer warm enough, showed up from behind the clouds, laying its farewell rays on the wet grass, chrisanthemums, asters, gladiolas.

“You’ve got such wonderful flowers, Zoya,” complimented Splinter as she and my grandma sat over tea on the patio. I was present there, too, sitting aloof with a Cool Girl magazine. Can’t remember why exactly I didn’t participate in the tea party - for a wrong doing or something else.

“The love of flowers I inherited from our mamma,” replied Gran Zoya, “You remember how carefully she used to look after the flowers in our little garden… She had all sorts of flowers: roses, peonies, dahilas, lilies…”

“Oh yes, our mamma was a dab hand at many things,” Splinter said with a sigh, “What beautiful cushions she embroidered, what delicious pies she made! She picked ambers for this very necklace, too…”

“And we all helped her” Gran Zoya carried on, “I remember us running around the seashore, searching for those ambers… Family values were the most important thing back those days, weren’t they? And mamma would never, ever raise her voice at any of us, no matter what…”

“Well, perhaps there was no reason to raise her voice at us. We never were rude or irreverent to her…” remarked Splinter glancing at me sideways.

“Oh, Vera, even now I keep dreaming about the Baltic!” grandmother said wistfully, “But it’s alright; as soon as Sasha gets better, as soon as he is back up on his feet - we will take a trip there together…”

“Oh yeah, translated into a normal language it means “we’ll never go there” I snorted from my seat.

The old women put their cups back on the saucers and looked quizzically at me.

“What do you mean by “never”? I said, as soon as Sasha gets better…”

“What makes you believe he’d get better?” I said, “People of his age and with health issues like that don’t get better, but end up dying. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

Gran Zoya’s face turned red with ire.

“What?.. How dare you talk like that, you little s**t?! How could you even say that?!”

“What’s wrong? I was just telling the truth…”

“The truth?!” grandmother rose from her chair and punched me hard in the chest, “I’ll show you the truth! I’ll kick the s**t out of you!!! Get out of my sight, you f*****g a*****e! Clear off now!!!”

“Fine”

That very instant I slammed the gate and left.