Cemetery

A light haze of morning fog covers the tops of graves. There are children’s voices and laughter – kids came to the cemetery to collect sweets from gravestones. It is so adventurous to have such an unusual breakfast. The cemetery is located on the hill near the forest: some graves are hidden between trees. They frighten those who accidently run into them, while collecting mushrooms. Folks in the village believe everything that is growing on the cemetery is poisonous because of the taste of dead people. But kids don’t care – they collect wild berries and apples to have better breakfast with sweets from the gravestones.

Today is the funeral of a little boy Misha who drowned in a pond. The whole village came to say their goodbye to this innocent child whose life ended at the age of six. The coffin is shut because of Misha’s physical appearance. His body is blue and swollen. Masha doesn’t realize her brother is gone; she laughs and waves to the people around – she is excited to have so many guests in the house. Guests, in turn, feel embarrassed for her lack of respect for death and simply try to ignore her. The mother, Irina, is silent. Two years ago, she lost her husband the same exact way – drowned in a pond. Vasiliy went to fish and suddenly disappeared. A few days later his swollen body was found by kids on the river bank. Misha went to that same river to swim with his friends and never came back home.

People in the village spread gossips: this family is cursed, and the next who will probably be taken up by God is Masha. Irina doesn’t pay attention to what people say; she is focused on providing a good memorial service. The same service, people, and pond who took up her two darling men. Her inner voice says: this is all my fault. I should’ve left my husband when he had an affair with Valia. Those two were in love with each other. Instead of letting him go Irina did her best to get pregnant for the second time, which left him no choice. Vasiliy grew sullen, and rarely payed attention to his newly born daughter. On his funeral Valia made a scene at the cemetery and blamed Irina for his death, although she was not invited.

Now, it is Misha’s turn to be buried.

In the house nobody talks, the only pronounced words are those of the priest, he speaks in prayer and psalms. When the official part is over, everybody follows the truck with the coffin, dropping red roses on the ground – orthodox tradition. It’s raining and red roses turn immediately brown from the mud. Masha is in the truck next to the coffin; she is still very excited about this fascinating procession.

At the cemetery, two sweaty men with frowning faces smoke their cigarettes near the freshly dug grave, they wait for the funeral procession to conclude, so they can be rewarded with vodka and rest.

Those escorting approach the grave. Misha’s future neighbors have their faces carved into the gravestone. Four brothers, who were killed in a car crash, stare at the entire procession. They seem happy and full of life. Kids with curious eyes and mouths coated with chocolate stand nearby – those who collected sweets earlier. After everyone has crossed themselves and kissed the coffin, the two sweaty men lower Misha into the grave.

Tears finally erupt from his mother’s eyes. She cries with anger through her clenched teeth. Later she pulls herself together looking down to her son’s coffin and indifferently drops two stones in the gap.

In the house, where everyone groups after the cemetery, they share a funeral dinner. Irina skillfully manages everything – she wants to be good to her guests and feed them well. The main course is rice with raisins – religious tradition. It’s called “Kutya.”

Guests eat Kutya, drink vodka and whisper among themselves: “First husband, then son,” “The Lord has given, the Lord has taken away”, “Cursed family”, “Her daughter is half-wit”, “Poor woman”. Suddenly Masha interrupts all those gossips screaming: “Look, our cat caught a mouse!” At this very moment her mother slaps her right in the face, and Masha bursts into tears.

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“Why did I say that? Why couldn’t I shout my mouth then? Why was I so silly? I am sorry, Misha.”

“You brother is dead. Don’t you understand that?” My mother slapped me again and again releasing her anger and desperation. She never really wanted me. I was a mistake.

“Irina, enough. She understood”. Said an old woman in a black shawl with a low voice. My grandmother.

The funeral dinner is over, and the guests arrive back home well fed. I am in our room, petting the purring cat and talking to your empty bed.

“Misha, It’s unfair. Why did you leave me alone? Marussya, I say to the cat, you are the only one who gets me. Good cat, kind cat. We’ll go to the cemetery tomorrow. We’ll bring him sweets”.

A light haze of morning fog covers the tops of graves. A young woman is sitting next to her brother’s grave and weeps. Sunlight breaks through the trees’ crowns.

Thus, begins a new day.