FAILURE

A short story by Nusrat Rahmat

FAILURE

  

From the point of geographic, economic and, of course, natural view, the fortune blessed the Jagalvoyli[1]’s people. The top side is the mountain where a river flows all the time. (It rises in spring and destroys the road and bridges. It is very unpleasant, surely) One side is close to the city. Several miles down from the village a crossroad passes. It connects two regions.

According to the above-mentioned facts, it is possible to say that both the city and the mountain feed on the jagalvoyli’s people. In the Soviet period, the village was sometimes the part of forestry and sometimes of a collective farm. But its lifestyle didn’t differ from the neighbours’ and passed on the basis of inner legality. During this period, the village was widened from the slopes, the roofs were covered with slates and the size of yards was enlarged. The “guest” called civilization knocked the gates. However, it is extra to count all of them.

The mountain fed the villagers for a long time- they herded their cattle in the mountain slopes, as well as sawed grasses for the winter. But that is not all: in spring they gathered herbs during the summer like a tulip, rhubarb; mountain basil, in the autumn pistachio, mountain bulb, ext…

From time to time as these things have become rare, now most youngsters go to the enterprise in the city and the day-labourer market; they work in the kitchens along the motorway; some go to Russia and Kazakhstan to earn money.

The lifestyle of the neighbouring villages doesn’t differ from jagalvoyli people, but they call them foolish and gullible people and like to laugh at them. Two miles above There is a village called Ayriqiya. People here differ from the jagalvoyli people with their dialect and open-heartedness. Even the people in Ayriqiya try to call them Afandi in anecdotes beginning with “One jagalvoyli …”

 “One jagalvoyli fixed a big gate in his house before building a wall. Every day when he was going to work, he would leave his gate locked and in the evening he would put a door closing wedge. But there wasn’t a gate until now”.

When one joker begins the other one continues: “I have the best, one jagalvoyli Maxsum had both a wall and a gate. He would lock his gate and put the key under the threshold. Climbing on a higher place he would shout to his son who went to the field: “Hey Karashkul! I put the key under the threshold”.

The third one also wouldn’t keep silence: “One jigalvoyli’s son was a policeman standing at the crossroad. When his father got drunk, he would say proudly: Hey, do you know? All the cars in the city run looking at the tip of my son’s stick”.

Maybe most of these words are the rumour of those jokers. However, as the saying says: there is a little joke in the joke. Others make jagalvoyli people fool. A cheater came and promised to supply the village with gas. He showed the documents of the project and got a large amount of money. But then he disappeared like a stone sunk into the river. People are talking about this story until now. When they investigated that man from the gas department it was clear that that cheater was dismissed two years ago.

What do say to this one? Jagalvoyli people who went to Kazakhstan to work were made to work for six months and they were bitten and expelled.

We said both the mountain and the city feed them, but these calves sucking two cows lived in a poorer condition. They live in houses built from adobe and mud brick, mostly without a floor. The ceiling of the houses was wood and wall weren’t whitened. Most of the beams were left with unfinished barks and they mostly were fir trees and acacias and any attentive person can notice this. We will discuss its reasons later.

In the village people hardly ever celebrate the holidays like Navruz, Independence Day, New Year and Eid. They have fun only at wedding ceremonies: they eat, drink, dance, fight and etc. In the following years, bringing famous singers from Tashkent to their wedding is becoming a custom although they are making money with their hard work: working as a day-labourer and servants.

In Jagalvoyli holy Friday looks like a special holiday. Many women and men passing uplands go to a place called Jumabazar in the neighbouring region. From the early morning sellers' caravans with donkeys, horses, bikes, cars could hurry up to there. Someone sells, someone buys. Sometimes, they go just for entertainment. Then during a week, they praise kabobs and nosvoy[2] of Jumabazar. Moreover, they meet their friends, play jokes with them and they inform each other with the latest news.

During the period of a  collective farm, a new market was opened in a nearer place; some businessmen spent lots of money and built many stores and kitchens around it, but people didn’t go there; they kept going to that old market, even they had to pass the mountain.

In conclusion, it is an Uzbek’s typical and familiar village.

What can we say about it more than that?

          Like other places, people here dream of being rich meanwhile hate the rich.

          When we speak about the rich (to tell the newspaper’s official language “well-supplied families”), we have to name Yodgorkhon aka[3]’s name (People call him “eshan”, or “bee-master”)

         This man is over his sixties, medium height, with the clear complexion and very neat; he is active, adroit, thrifty, with sly eyes, very careful as if he had an aversion of something. He respects even his grandsons; he always smiles, but speaks slowly, laughs aloud. He is a bit impatient and means person. He doesn’t go to the mosque and teahouse either because he has lots of work or he pretends like that. The young and old gather in such two places people speak both good and bad words on him and we should look at this situation as natural. People in the mosque scorn him as he is at the age of the prophet. In spite of this, his forehead doesn’t see the earth. But in the teahouse these kinds of words are more:  They whisper that “he has gold” and you want to believe his word.

      Gold was handed from his granddad, people guess.

       Yodgorkhon aka’s granddad- Porsokhon was a judge or a mufti. He was an educated man and  had a connection with jadid[4]s. Bolsheviks seized his properties and expelled him to Siberia. They kept under pressure his children and family remained here. The old man disappeared. (After the Independence was announced Yodgorkhon aka enlarged his granddad’s picture in which he was with Bekhbudi and hung it on the wall of the living room).

It was his granddad who was first built sheep pen instead of the village and hired three-four shepherds from a distant village called Jagalvoyli. It was said that the people of that village died from the consumption and the people who were here survived and  founded a village as their number rose.

         His granddad’s fate seems to chase these descendants till now. Yodgorkhon aka’s father was an educated man like his father. Leaving for the Second World War he didn’t return home. His mother was pregnant with Yodgorkhan at that time. He knew the bitter taste of tear and sweat on the forehead. He fought for a slice of bread with patience. The life made this person active, clever, thrifty. Maybe this is the reason why a person who communicated with Yodgorkhon aka thinks unintentionally: “He lives long”. 

          You will sorry for him if he says to you that once he gathered herbs, herded sheep, helped a shepherd and said “oshhalol”, sold water bringing in a high way.

          His house deeply differs from the others’: the buildings in the inner part were built from brick, the ceilings were made from plaster. The wall was painted accurately, white marble covered the upper part of the foundation. The living room was decorated so well that anyone wants to like this. A white “Nexia[5]” made you jealous. A horse and a cow are fed under the round terrace in the outside of the house. Household goods, hays and grains, honeybee hives, details of tractor, an engine- generator (Places like here have rarely electric power supply), a ladder, a wheelbarrow, chopped firewood which is collected the same size as a man and other household things can prove this house is kept under the rule of disciplined and insistent man. In the middle of the house, there is an artesian well and a little greenhouse is placed close to it. There is a servant from the neighbouring village. Yodgorkhon aka brought the first television in the sixties of the last century. The whole villagers would come to watch it then. Then this honey seller bought first a coloured television and antenna, even a mobile phone.

     Before the World War II, a German Henrik came and opened a branch of forestry. He hired Yodgorkhon’s father as his assistant. They began to plant tree shoots. They hired villagers and paid them wages. They planted an acacia, a cypress, an apricot, a fir tree, an almond tree, a cherry-tree, a hawthorn, in other words, they planted all Henrik found. Mountain guards rode a horse and guarded the trees. The war began and people’s attitude to the chief changed when first black letters (the news about someone died in the war) came to the village: a single word “Nazi” frightened them and made them nervous. Henrik was aware of this situation and disappeared in one night. After that rumours like: “Henrik is a Hitler’s agent and when Hitler occupies Moscow, he is going to give the economy of the whole region to him.” were spread around.

       Yodgor aka’s father ruled that forestry only a year and he also was sent to the army.

        During the war, the trees began to fruit: people enjoyed them a lot. After some time firewood and construction items were produced there.

***

        In the seventies of the last century, these fields became the property of collective farming and the forest was cut down and the number of trees was reduced. The chairman gathered people in the meeting and promised lots of things. “But, he said, - we need to save the forest and increase trees! There is a decree of the government. It is forbidden to cut the fir tree and the acacia from this time!”

     At that moment Yodgorkhon aka asked permission to speak.

“In my opinion, - he said, - there is only one way to protect the forest: this is to share the forest with people. Every household should plant trees to their places. I feel sorry for this forest my father planted it...”

       He couldn’t stop crying and couldn’t say anything more. The chairman agreed with his words. They made judgement raising hands. A month later, when the collective farm began building a cattle-shed, they cut wood for a beam there and began to carry it. A collective farm is, in fact, a robbery- other people also began using this wood.

        Then Yodgorkhon aka began surrounding an approximately three-hectare forest: he closed it with stone, tree branches, wood, barbed wires, and wire netting in a month. He wasn’t content with what he had done he built a hut in order to protect cattle from thieves. Sometimes he went around there in the evenings.

         Before that – in the sixties when the guns were taken away from people ( at those times every family had guns there), Yodgorkhon aka gave his gun voluntarily. But when people heard the shooting from his garden, they said with confidence that he had hidden his granddad’s gun.

          At present, there  remains only this three hectares of forest. Yodgorkhon aka decided to build a twenty-six vineyard beside this forest, but either he was busy with other works or he was afraid of others’ blame he couldn’t do it.

         How many times did he get the blame for this garden?!

         He has a cousin called Basirkhon. People incited him when he was drunk. “You also have a right to the gold handed from your granddad: that means honey seller should give your share”. “This forest isn’t his mother’s property…

You cannot find bread to eat, but this cheater…”

            When Basirkhon was drunk, he was tormented by these words. But he couldn’t say a word about this gold to his cousin. He began coveting the garden.

“Basirkhon, -Yodgorkhon said one day, -ok, you may saw the hay there and reap the harvest and sell it. I will find wood for you if you are going to build a house. I don’t need your any coin, but please don’t split us up. We are eshanzadas[6]. Don’t believe in rumours, my brother!”

“ The reason why he said,- “ I don’t need your any coin ”is that the honey seller gave permission to others to reap an apricot, a hawthorn, and an almond, but he made an agreement with them to share these fruits or the money come from selling them.

***

In fact, Yodgorkhon aka’s main profit doesn’t come from the garden; he has been keeping honeybees for a long time.

 It happened a long time ago. Then he was walking around the trees, there was a swarm of honeybees and they were flying uneasily. Their crowded sward attracted him. In a branch of an acacia, the bees were closely grouped and they hung up in it like a bunch of grape. He decided what to do for a while, then he cut a thorny branch very carefully, put it in a bag and brought it home.

          In a neighbouring village called Andijoni…

          In order not to give way to questions we should introduce this village. This village is attached to the city. People say that residents of this village were transferred from Andijon by emir Shokhmurod two hundred years ago. But with the effect of the city, they became Tadjik. Their schools also teach in Tadjik and they speak in Tadjik at home.

          Yodgorkhon aka knew a well Fazliddin beekeeper that lives this village. Fazliddin not only taught how to keep bees but also he gave him a box, a framework and a book called   “Bee-keeping”. Yodgorkhon aka returned home and worked hard. In two years the boxes of honeybees were rose over twenty. But that year winter was very cold and all of the honeybees died of cold. He didn’t give up. The most important thing was that he had boxes, experience and self-confidence. He ate little or more the bread of bee-keeping.

     The number of honeybees was increased very soon again. He brought honeybees to the mountain in spring and when a cotton-plant blossomed he transferred them to new state farms in the desert of Kashkadarya. The third year as soon as he gathered the harvest, he bought a truck. More than thirty boxes of honeybees could be placed in this big mechanism and comfortable conditions were provided for honeybees to live. He went to the deserts with his wife - Istodakhon, he loved keeping honeybees in the fresh air. The spouses talked for hours about sweet dreams and wonderful memories and that was interesting and long.

***

They were also relatives. Yodgorkhon aka had an uncle who came maimed from the war. Even though his one leg was from wood, he worked hard: he plunged the ground, went fishing in the river( now the fish become extinct), did gardening. His late uncle was a nice person. Istodakhon is this man’s daughter when the matter of engagement began, there appeared a problem: they were relatives. But they got married because both of them had a tendency. Those times Yodgorkhon had neither a garden nor honeybees. Then they made plav from little rice and gave it to the villagers. The bride and the groom were content with that poor life and lived loving each other and showing loyalty to each other. But luck did not give them a hand: they had no children for seven years. When they earned little money, they spent it with the doctor, a physician and an exorcist. Doctors told that this was the result of the marriage between relatives. But they didn’t stop hoping and lived not blaming and reproaching each other.

      That year when he started bee-keeping, his wife whispered him slowly and typically:

“I have menstruated fifty days ago.”

       Although Yodgorkhon was very happy, he didn’t show his happiness. Then they desperately waited for their first child very. But again failure happened with them: the baby was born dead. Hopeless is Devil. They found renowned doctors, they believed them. Three years later the woman became pregnant. After nine months their son was born and they gave their grandfather’s name (Porsokhon) to the baby. But the baby was very odd: apathetic, numb, inactive… When you were the age of him, you remember a saying unintentionally: “Let the kid be fidgety!”

Porsokhon began walking only at the age of three. He couldn’t study at school because he was slow-witted: he just went and come from school. He worked if someone ordered unless he sat all day. He liked to play with the boys or girls who were ten years old little from him. If you have any recommendation or question: “I will do what you say to do…” -he repeated this phrase.

      Again after seven years, (they stopped hoping for the child and didn’t go to the doctors) Istodakhon gave birth to another boy. They gave their father’s name (Buzrukkhon) to this boy. The fire burnt in his eyes. No one knows why, but his eyes were blue. Yodgorkhon thought about all his relatives and couldn’t remember that any of them had blue eyes. He feared from the wicked thought that came to his mind. He remembered a saying ”The slyness of a woman could be a load for forty camels” and thought that sometimes he left his wife alone in deserts and field guards and honey buyers came to her. They went together to the sanatorium, but there were such times he left his wife there and went to look after honeybees.  

       Then he regretted his unpleasant doubts. “It would be fair if you yourself were an angel, Yodgorkhan”, - he whispered.

        Buzrukhon was good at mathematics and physics. He solved any mathematical problems at school that even teachers couldn’t. Then he entered the university without any help. Graduating the university he was hired there by a group of computer programmers. A year later he became the chief of that group.

***

Before speaking about the details of the marriage of Yodgorkhon’s elder son, we have to tell an interesting story happened twenty years ago.

      That year in summer he transferred honeybees to the Karshi desert. One side of the desert was taken charge newly and cotton-plant was planted. Household chores were shared between spouses - Yodgorkhon aka looked after honeybees, bought what was necessary from the stores and sold honey to people who wanted to buy at wholesale price. Istodakhon cooked a meal in a little house, decorated the table. All facilities were provided in this little house: drinking water, a television taking power from a car (then he had old “Jiguli[7]”), a hearth with a gasbag.

         Istodakhon had a pain in her back, leg, and kidneys some time ago. At nights Yodgorkhon looking around wasn’t ashamed of massaging her back and legs. Then his wife relaxed and kissed him.

        There was no one except a field guard living neighbourhood in an old hut. Yodgorkhon aka gave the things he bought from the centre of the district every Sunday.

         Istodakhon was brilliant at cooking. She cooked the ingredients her husband brought so scrumptiously that every person who ate her meals couldn’t stop saying “Bravo”.

That evening she mixed a cow liver with a little salt, pepper and caraway and rolled it in a piece of clothing to let its blood leak. She cut an onion and heated the pot. She put the liver kabob to the table and brought hot tea, various snacks until Yodgorkhan aka put an extra frame for honeybees. A clean plate, handkerchief, and a fork found their places.

        Her husband washed his face and entered the little room. Seeing the various things on the table and smelling the liver kabob he pointed to the table and said: “A sultan cannot find this pleasure”. After he took his seat Istodakhon like a bondmaid in front of a king slightly bowed:

“Honey, order, shall I bring a bottle? She said smiling with royal attitude.”

        At this point, I would ask you to give me permission to do lyrical digression.

        Yodgorkhon aka, by nature, is against to drink. No one has seen him drinking alcohol. But every year he himself makes wine from black grapes and fills his 25-litre barrel made from an oak tree. He gives it to guests. When he leaves with honeybees, he takes three or four bottles of wine.

        Of course, any clever reader has already understood what Istodakhon meant. Her “honey” also was a clever man- he responded with a poem.

“I always drink wine for entertainment, but today you are with me, I won’t drink!”

         When he said “you are with me”, he beckoned to her slightly, so they laughed out loud at the same time.

        Have you ever paid attention to one situation? A wife usually resembles her husband with her actions and behaviour or she gets used to him for years. Istodakhon wasn’t also an exception. She either forgot some lines of that poem or her husband changed some lines of that, she also read a poem adding some words to it.

“If a brave young man is safe, there are any danger doesn’t exist. Life is perfect, honey is plentiful, and I am healthy…”

      They laughed again in a loud voice. Yeah, all of them were sweet!

“I capitulated, -Yodgorkhon aka said raising his hands,- I must drink as you called me a brave young man! But don’t forget that I am confused when I am drunk.”

“Oh my God!” -her wife said coquettishly.

       As soon as he drank a glass of wine and put some snack into his mouth, the field guard visited their home. Yodgorkhon aka guessed an emergency had happened and became vigilant.

“Eshan granddad ( He called Yodgorkhon aka like that) my wife is going to give birth…”

        Eshan granddad also understood the situation, said something to his wife and drove his car. A car couldn’t go to the hut- there wasn’t a road. They led the woman by the hand. Yodgorkhon drove to the district centre. When they reached half the way, the woman became more impatient. Yodgorkhon was worried and picked up speed. That moment an inspector of the State automobile inspection appeared and beckoned to the edge of the road with his stick. He remembered that he forgot to take his documents and money. Moreover, he was drunk and regretted like a man gambled all his money.

“Go on, be a devil, drive!” - the field guard said standing by his wife, being impatient.

        Yodgorkhon aka reduced speed not to kick the inspector. He passed him and sped up.

          In fact, Yodgorkhon aka was a man who didn’t break not only any moral rules but also laws, because he was brought up with difficulties, faced different people in various places. But now if he stops the car, the woman…

         The inspector understood his action as ignorance and chased after him riding his bike. To tell the truth, that time all policemen were very boorish and oppressive. In spite of this fact Yodgorkhon aka didn’t let him reach them: if the inspector reached them, he could block their way. He feared that they would waste time. He only slammed on the brakes after they entered the hospital yard (the maternity ward was situated there too) and ran in the hospital. Then nurses came and brought the woman to the maternity ward. When Yodgorkhon aka went out, he saw the inspector with the eyes filled with blood. He asked apology from him to avoid an unexpected event happening.

“Your documents?” -he insisted on a response.

“Dear brother, you saw that I forgot to take the documents as I hurried”, - said Yodgorkhon aka.

“Give me the key. I will take the car with me”, - he said with that anger.

     At that moment the field guard exited the hospital and got angry seeing that situation.

“Hey brother policeman, - he said in a half request and half threat manner, - do you have a conscience?”

     Yodgorkhon aka relaxed him. He showed the inspector the fuel indicator and explained:

“Look here. Petrol ran out. You will stop on a half of the way.”

       However, the car had petrol, but the device was broken and it was showing zero.

       He stood thinking and hesitating.

“In this case, I will take away the number of the car” -he said and brought pincers and began taking the number. When he was taking one of the bolts covered with rust, nurses came out of the hospital.

“Joyous, joyous. Congratulations!”

All of them stood shocked.

“This man is the uncle of the baby, - Yodgorkhon aka beckoned to the inspector not knowing what to do, - he will give you money.”

The inspector half smiled and left there riding his bike.

Yodgorkhon aka treated the nurses with respect and gave them honey (he was going to sell it).

          After this event a baby girl’s name became Honey in the hospital; later her parents also liked this name and gave it to her.

Every year when they brought honeybees to those places, they brought presents for Honey, visited that familiar hut. They hugged the girl and asked about her health and studies.

“If you graduate school, I will help you enter the university”, - the beekeeper said.

He did what he said: Honey graduated middle school and he brought a basket of honey to his fellow who was a teacher at a medical college and asked him his request. The teacher also helped him.

        Three years later the spouses wore new dresses, put on perfume until then a servant had cleaned the car thoroughly. This time they went to that familiar hut for matchmaking. They did so not because their son was numb and no one would give their daughter to him. It wasn’t because of a desperate situation; They had known Honey and her parents for a long time. Although she was dark skinned and short, they believed that this hard-working, patient girl ( she grew up in the desert) would help their incapable son and wouldn’t look down to their son. They also didn’t have any intention to hide Porsokhon’s numbness from the bride or her parents: Honey and her parents met with the groom several times and talked with him.

“Eshan granddad, but we are karacha, what will we do?” -Honey’s father said after a long silence.

“My granddad’s wife also wasn’t eshanzada, - Yodgorkhon answered, - all of us are slaves of God.”

         Even though Yodgorkhon aka was against a luxurious wedding ceremony and drinking, contrary to his custom he invited people from the neighbouring village, he filled tables with vodka and brought well- known singers from Tashkent. Kurash was held that day.

        Honey got used to this house very easily because she had been there several times before (she sometimes had spent weekends there). She called her father-in-law “Mullaamaki” or just “Father”, her mother-in-law “Ayamullo” and her husband “ Turam”. She wouldn’t forget the day when Yodgorkhon aka brought a new bride to the box of honeybees and taught her in the first week of the marriage.

“A honeybee stings a strange person. If a familiar person treats it rudely, it stings mercilessly. So, in any condition, you had better put on this net. You should open the lid very carefully: if it is opened carelessly, these troubles guard bee. Like that. Then it is important to pay attention to the condition of bees: you take the frame and look attentively. This is a worker bee this one is the king, those sponges: male bees. You examine them carefully: whether bees are laying eggs or making honey, the number of male bees is rising.”

“What needs doing if their number exceeds?”

“You need to kill them!”

       She learned how to do these chores. Besides, she often went to the garden riding a horse and controlled people picking fruit. She went to the basement and ran to the yard holding a bunch of keys. She worked hard. Watching his daughter-in-law Yodgorkhon aka gave a smile of satisfaction.

        A year later she gave birth to two sons. It seemed that the fate gave luck to Porsokhon, contrary to his parents. Even though Honey was, as above mentioned, short and dark-skinned, her sons were white skinned, with medium height, healthy and lively.

“Both of them resemble my granddad,- Yodgorkhon aka said every time he carried Khasankhan and Khusankhan without hiding his happiness.”

“My daughter, now you should take care of the children. Others will do the household chores”, - he said one day.

“Mullaamaki, I will manage to do both of them”, -Honey answered bowing her head.

         The children filled the family with joy and kept on growing up.Yodgorkhon aka loved his grandchildren and always hurried to see them. The sweetest time began for the family. When they prayed around the table, they always asked God to make their happiness eternal.

“Whose sons are you?” -he asked his grandsons when they just started speaking.

“Yours”, - they said at the same time.

“Okey, I will be a horse for men” - he said. Then he stood on his hands and legs like a horse and ordered his son.

“Let’s board men on the horse.”

“Ok, I will do what you say”, - his son said stepping slowly.

***

There is an action called “detection” in beekeeping. Obviously, before transferring bees, it is essential to find out where and what kind of flowers blooms… We think that trees and herbs bloom only in spring. In fact, nature has flowers whole year and bees always have nectar. In spring grasses in the mountain are in blossom, later in lower plateau daffodils, tulips and snowdrops attract you . In summer flowers are much more than in spring: a cotton-plant, a sunflower, a camel thorn and others… this continues until winter.

          Today Yodgorkhon aka Istodakhon drove to Bakhmal as usual. A day before his wife ironed his shirt, suit, and trousers. Before going there she also put on a new rain-coat, wore a new scarf over her hair. A servant cleaned the car as a whistle.

          Their visit to Bakhmal was always unforgettable: they met with their old friends. On the way they liked to talk about kind people, good memories not letting each other to speak. At these moments when you see them, of course, you think: God created this couple only for each other.

       They know each of this hollows and slopes in these places. But maybe someone occupied the places for bees or the situation was changed.

      The car was going ahead, and Yodgorkhon aka was talking about his grandsons and was full of emotions.

“Just yesterday I used to be their horses: if they pulled my left ear, I turned to the left and if they pulled my right ear, I turned o the right. Now both of them can tell a poem. Both of them aren’t afraid of bees. They will be beekeepers! I believe it!”

“But our daughter-in-law is very good, - his wife added,- she looks for you if she doesn’t see you for a few minutes. She is busy as a bee.”

“Yeah, you are right. She is invaluable…”

        At that moment his phone rang and their conversation stopped. He reduced the speed and picked up his phone. A Russian woman’s voice heard on the phone.

“Is it you? May I talk with you?”

Yodgorkhon aka took a back and didn’t know what to say. He stuttered and answered with hesitation.

“You are on the wrong number.”

“Understood”, -the woman said in a response.

They kept silence. Istodakhon broke the silence.

“Dear, isn’t it Christine’s voice?”

“Dear” was in an unpleasant situation.

“Yeah, it is”, - he said at last.

“She often came before. Then she disappeared”, - Istodakhon said she wants to listen to what the next would be.

      Yodgorkhon aka didn’t know what to say.

      Christine was over forty, but she was somehow fat and beautiful. She worked for a veterinarian lab. Four or five years ago lots of bees began to die in the region. If they examined carefully, a Japanese bug was killing them. This pest only can be seen through a magnifying glass. They brought a pesticide from Japan for these pests. Then Christine tried this pesticide on Yodgorkhon aka’s bees. All the bugs were killed, but Christine came there very often. Later she began taking from worker bees with her putting 20-30 bees in a glass. Later it was cleared that she learned to treat podagra illness by stinging a bee. Christine knew very well beekeeping by theory. She had read almost every book on beekeeping. She needed someone honest and creative like Yodgorkhon aka to practice these theories. The thing which united them was this intention. But god knows what they did then.

    Christine told that she had read from some book about the method to increase a breed of bee family. Yodgorkhon aka learned it soon. The method was very simple, it's very effective. To do this method you should put a bottom of a pencil to one of the honeycombs to widen it. Then you should drop a little honey milk with a needle.

    Even some parts of our story remind you an instruction on beekeeping, we have to explain the term of “honey milk”.

A honeybee makes not only honey, propolis, but also milk and it is very valuable in medicine. Usually, a honeybee leaves a drop of milk to her children as food: eggs and g’umbaks grow up eating this milk.

      After that Yodgorkhon beekeeper learned how to produce a queen bee from artificial combs. When a queen bee grows up, you should separate it with a swarm of bees and a new family appears.

      In spring Yodgorkhon aka’s mobile phone rang a lot. Even people from other regions wanted to buy a honey bee family and he earned a lot of money.

      We should emphasise one situation which Istodakhon noticed: when Christine came, her husband’s mood rose and he laughed a lot. If she didn’t come, he called her more and more and sometimes he went to find her holding a glass of honey.

       Istodakhon was jealous. But due to the pain in her back and kidneys, she couldn’t satisfy his sexual desire. So she also observed that because of that reason one should understand men.

        She was aware that her husband moved to Russia, she was left here with her daughter. When this woman was busy with how to take a bee poison in a new way, she was afraid of Istodakhon’s ironical glance and she barely came here.

***

There were rumours at the teahouse that the beekeeper was driving a Russian woman.

“The old man is still energetic,- somebody said hearing these words.”

“One builder was throwing mud to the seventh mud brick,- Nasreddin tractor driver started his story,- when his fellows looked at his pocket, there were seven gold coins in it. They took them without letting him know. After that the builder couldn’t throw mud for the fourth mud brick. When they put them back his pocket, he again began working. That gold powers the heart, the back, and the lower from them.”

      They all laughed aloud and changed the theme.

It is not fair to tell that the teahouse is placed to spread rumours. Most of the men are lazy and they have nowhere else except the teahouse. Women do all household chores and shepherd herds cattle. If they want to set up a new business, they need knowledge, experience, money and electricity. In this situation, men have to be busy with rumours!

     In the teahouse, there are only two rooms. In one room the youth play chess, draughts. In the other old men talk with each other and play cards. They mostly discuss the electricity: they swear some kind of official very badly. He should be sworn: they give the electricity only two hours in the morning and two-three hours at night. Before they had a reason: the villagers have lots of debts from electric supply power. But the situation didn’t change even after they had paid their debts.

“I talked with the head of the electricity department,- an old man whom all call Dum granddad, emphasizing the word “ head”,- “The wires should be changed into new ones, they have been working for four years instead of fifteen”, he said. “Change them to new ones!”, -when  I said to him: “We need millions for it”, he responded.

       They complained about unemployment. They dream about someday a mine would be found among the mountains and all people would have worked. When they talk about politics, the theme is usually about the violence of the USA, Russian president’s politeness and Iranian president’s bravery. They discuss the sales prices on Friday market. Moreover, they talk about their children who are working abroad, how much money they are earning and other things.

        It is forbidden to smoke and drink here and they hate people who drink a lot. But sometimes they drink a little only in a teapot.

        In fact, rumours and intrigue look like an alcohol: they hate it, but they drink it.

        We think that there are many reasons for rumours. First of all, some kind of secret profit lies behind it. When these profits meet with each other, rumours start. Maybe that is not the first. As we said above, all of us want to be rich. So we tend to rumour them. Perhaps our mind is like that.

         I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…

“This night I heard a gunshot from Eshan granddad’s garden. Who else heard?’ - Nasreddin tractor driver said, wanting to turn the theme to the last one.

         “In fact, it wasn’t about a gunshot.” He said it because he knew that a gun is shot to frighten some people and most of them didn’t like these words. Basirkhon, who regularly comes to the teahouse, also clearly understood it. But he had his own profit: “he isn’t giving my share from the gold left from my granddad" he always thinks about this.

“Ok, let’s stop talking about my cousin”, - he said,- it is useless. Some are the slaves of God, some are their the wives’.

         It was like to pour oil on the flame.

“It is true. I saw once he massaged his wife’s leg”, - the tractor driver continued.

“We don’t believe”, - lots of people turned to him with surprise.

        Before, Nasri used to drive a tractor called “Belorussia” belonged to the forestry. Then this machine was taken by the collective farm. When all the collective farms were ended, Yodgorkhon aka bought it. He renewed its wheel and some parts of the engine.

“Nasriddin, you will continue to drive the tractor, but you won’t use it in others’ fields, - he said. You will take good care of it, and will stand in my house. I will pay you twice as much as the collective farm did!”

        But Nasriddin was a lazy man, he didn’t understand or didn’t want to admit that the life changed and this tractor became a private property. He couldn’t realize he should repair and clean the tractor. He was upset that he couldn’t earn a tip from ploughing others’ fields. That’s why Yodgorkhon aka fired him and hired a young man called Tangriberdi.

        Tangriberdi was in the thirties and very hardworking. He looks like an Arabian. He worked in Kazakhstan for two years and he became very hardworking, thrifty. As he said he worked there for an old Kazakh man who sold quail eggs.

“I worked for him for two years. It is a sin to rumour but he was so cruel that he hit even beggars who came to his house. We even cleaned his toilet. You do not feel ashamed of what you do there because none of your friends sees you there. But here you do feel, even to put your hand into the cold water. After being fed up with what I did, I began to learn the secrets of the rich man’s business: I “stole” the methods of how to increase the number of quails, to feed them and to give medicine them.”

          Tangriberdi began to bring up quails when he returned home. He bought everything needed for his new business. The number of quails rose very fast, most people came to watch them. Newspapers bannered  it. However, suddenly he faced with failure: when the quails started to lay eggs, they caught with some kind of illness and all of them died.

“It was my own mistake. I spread about my new business when I just started it. I showed them off to everyone who came to watch. The Kazakh old man wouldn’t let anyone watch them.”

          Now Tangriberdi is busy with picking onion growing on a mountain and reproducing it. Obviously, he cleans it well. Then he puts it into salty water and vinegar for a while. After some time he places them into jars and closes them. They cost lots of money on the market.  It’s said that they cure diabetes. He doesn’t reveal his secrets now, but according to the information, he is growing onion at his home. Last year he gathered the very good harvest. But he doesn’t say anything about his master. This man’s predictions are very unpleasant and we have to tell about it.

“Villages will disappear: three or four rich of well-off people and their several servants stay only here. Others move to the city and abroad for seeking bread… because no one needs a lazy person! If once Porsokhon granddad hadn’t transferred some families, this village wouldn’t have been. Now only rich people will be able to rescue us.”

       Of course, most people didn’t like his words and disagreed with him and discussed his words.

***

We above mentioned about Dum granddad. Once this old man was a chairman of the collective farm then became  the council of the village. One day when he saw Yodgorkhon aka, he punished him.

“Eshon granddad, that tractor was used by everyone in this village during the collective farm…”

“Then it didn’t have an owner- it was a possession of the community. Dum granddad, you also don’t give your own car to another person, do you?”

“I gave, Eshan granddad, I gave,- he said with calm,- if anyone has a wedding ceremony or condolence - my car is always ready. Because we are neighbours…”

         Dum granddad told the truth: this man always shares everything with his neighbours. He also uses their services: his neighbours still plough his ground, saw his hay, and carry it for it.

       But Yodgorkhon aka agreed with him then.

       At the teahouse, people began speaking about Yodhorkhon beekeeper, so Dum granddad suddenly remembered that meeting.

“I told him then that you can find a tractor later, but it is not good to separate from the neighbours! They will carry our coffin one day…”

“This beekeeper knows everything”, - someone said,- he doesn’t give a coin to anyone. Asking him to lend you money is impossible!”

       “Maybe, it is inappropriate to say this conversation a gossip. But it is true that the beekeeper never lends money. Only God and he know the reasons. It is wrong to say that he lent some money to someone and he couldn’t take it back. He doesn’t lend money that is all! But the man who accused the beekeeper of greed wasn’t very innocent. We have to tell that he sold nuts and hawthorns from his garden for three years and he gave very little money to the beekeeper. Everyone knows about it. Basirkhon also knew  it.”

       Then the theme changed to the increase in prices. But when someone told that Yodgorkhon didn’t take any apprentice from this village, the theme of Yodgorkhon started again. Basirkhon thought: Of course, who can justify his cousin’s actions: he hadn’t taken any apprentices so far! Isn’t it such selfishness? Moreover, they were right when they told about his greed. If it was wrong, he should give Basirkhon his share from the gold. Maybe, his wife was guilty about all. Perhaps, that Witch owns all the gold…

        It is important to take into account of other essential problems. Long ago Basirkhon gave his elder son to him as an apprentice. The boy didn’t go there again when he was stung by a bee for the first time. Now he carries carriage n the market. Other apprentices tolerated the poison of a bee and learned. But they couldn’t find money to buy a box, honey and other essential tools for beekeeping and searched another job; Yodgorkhon aka didn’t help them even though he could.

        Basirkhon could have said that Yodgorkhon wasn’t like that, but something stopped him.

        “What do you think how much gold Yodgorkhon has? Is it ten kilos?”

This question was asked to pour oil on the flame. It was unclear that whether Basirkhon understood it or not. That time Tangriberdi started speaking.

“Gold isn’t weighed by the kilo. It is a coin. I saw: that Kazakh old man had gold coins- he showed them to us making us jealous. I held it in my hand: one side had the picture of Nicolae and the other had a two-headed bird. Only Yodhorkhon knows how many gold coins left from his granddad. It is not to look at others’ pocket!”

        The thought about the gold coins filled Basirkhon’s heart with envy. His debts were increasing. A year ago he lent money from the broker in Friday market… he couldn’t stand:

“Let’s stop this theme!” -he said.

***

When Basirkhon was going  home leaving the teahouse, he saw Yodgorkhon aka losing thinking about something on the horse. He knew that it was Yodgorkhon’s habit to go to the garden at this time. His heart filled with annoyance.

“Brother, stop!” -he raised both his voice and hand.

         He thought he was doing something wrong. While passing the place filled with stone by the river he thought what to say and didn’t want to break the relationship.

        He greeted him as usual, held the reins and cleaned the bridle from dirt. Yodgorkhon aka also noticed some kind of doubt; however, he smiled.

“Brother, I have lots of debts from the sales assistant.”

          “It means, he will ask to lend money, Yodgorkhon aka thought, instead of drinking he should have paid his debts, fool”.But he didn’t change his manner.- Brother, when will you give my share?

“What kind of share?”

“I mean the gold coins left from our granddad… Those have a picture of a two-headed bird on one side…”

        Yodgorkhon aka kept silence for a minute. Then hiding his all hatred he asked in a smooth voice.

“Don’t touch the bridle.”

When Basirkhon took back his hand, he cracked his whip. This made Basirkhon angry.

“Be afraid of God!” - he said.

Yodgorkhon’s silence made him more irritated: It holes out!

This word made Yodgorkhon aka nervous.Firstly, he imagined people at the teahouse. Then to relax he used his experience and thought about another thing.

        Yodgorkhon was a person who underwent lots of injustice bringing honey to various regions. But today’s shock was the worst of all. He must have felt so bad that those unpleasant memories came to his memory.

***

        Then the bees were brought to the Lucerne field. While he was driving to the market, a “Nexia” appeared in front of him. The car was going from the right to the left side of the road, so Yodgorkhon aka guessed a drunk man was driving it and stopped at the edge of the road. Sooner the “Nexia” came to him. In the last second, the driver turned the steering wheel and the “Nexia” bumped into the back door of the “Jiguli”. Yodgorkhon aka ran to the car and opened the door: a teenager was unconscious. When he opened the back door, two teenagers got out of it and began to beat him. First, he defended himself then he withdrew. That moment strange situation happened: those teenagers suddenly fell down being unconscious. People gathered the police and the ambulance came. They wrote a report.

       They found out that the teenager on the steering wheel had broken legs. His father worked in a high position before, but then was the director of a notary office. Yodgorkhon aka decided to meet with that man three-four days later to have him pay the expenses of the back door. But that foolish man threatened him:

“You beat the two boys and made them unconscious!”

“No, sir, -Yodgorkhon aka tried to tell what had happened,- someone else had beaten them, that time doctors told it.”

     After that Yodgorkhon aka didn’t see any change on his face and left his room.

      This one also happened in another region. When he was moving the bees, he saw a field of sunflowers in bloom. He said the tractor driver to stop there and placed the boxes by the river. Istodakhon wept there, brought water and began cooking a meal.

       In fact, bees can gather lots of pollen from sunflowers. Some flowers have nectar, but pollen is little. The sunflower has lots of it. A bee makes honey mixing nectar with pollen. Besides, it is a special construction material. A bee uses that pollen to build a beehive. Every time when a bee flies, it carries nectar in its mouth and pollen on its feet.

        The moment when they were preparing all the things the drunken man on a horse appeared. He introduced himself as a brigade-leader.

“Who gave you permission to put bees in here?”

         Even though Yodgorkhon aka ran across this kind of situations a lot, he didn’t know what to say this time. Usually, he got rid of this kind of people giving a jar honey. But this man’s attitude looked like a treatment people did against gypsies.

“A bee helps your sunflowers pollinate their seeds will grow with full of the kernel”, - he said smoothly.

“Take them away from  here!”

     Yodgorkhon aka was ashamed from his wife and went up. The brigade- leader followed him. That moment bees covered him. The poor man ran away not taking his horse.

         A bee can’t bear the smell of an alcohol by nature. It can’t tolerate a strong smell. Even he went to the barber’s he told in advance to the barber not to use perfume. He took an apprentice: he perspired a lot. But a bee can’t stand the smell of sweat. That’s why he had to choose another job.

          When Yodgorkhon aka remembered those memories, he made sure that his cousin’s treatment exceeded all of these and he remembered a legend. Once upon a time, a cruel king ordered to kill an innocent man by throwing stones. People in the city began to throw stones as the king said. However, there was his relative among the crowd. He didn’t throw at him, he threw at him cotton taking from his cotton coat. Tolerating such pains the poor man couldn’t tolerate this one and fell down yelling.

        It was so painful that Basirkhon was blaming him for nothing. It is said the heaviest chain is a gold chain and he also knew that the heaviest temptation was the temptation for gold. He was worrying that someone could show Yodgorkhon as a mean person to Basirkhon using his drunkenness. He was very upset with him.

        His heart didn’t light up seeing his son’s car. It was Buzrukkhon who greeted him…

        We have to give additional information about his little son- Buzrukkhon.

        He is a professional specialist on the computer. If people bring luxurious computers, printing devices, they show them to this young boy. He knows computers inside and out. He prepares postcards for weddings, takes with him clever boys, but he never gets money from anyone.

         But no one is perfect. His father worries about him because he is too trusting, a risk taker and decisive. What can we do? Talents are with lacks. He also has a habit to do things without thinking, and make troubles. It seems to Buzrukhkhon that something is always so little or very much. Moreover, he never admits anyone: he is a nihilist. When you talk him about scientists: he says “They only repeated the Greeks’ discoveries”. He also has pessimistic ideas about poets: “Most of them adore villages, but they are liars who are running away from them to live in cities, they are cowards who cannot tell the truth”, he considers. He is dissatisfied with television – it has no future, he thinks. He says “Five or six years later a mobile phone removes television”.

         If we talk about the reason why he is still single until now (now he is 27), we have to tell that he was trapped by a woman who is older than him, divorced, and with a child. Hearing that he was going to get married that woman his father got angry: he told to him that if he would marry her, he would not say him a son.

       “In this case, I won’t marry anyone”, he said.

          “It is your job not to marry anyone, but you won’t bring that woman my home”, he said to his son angrily.

         Until then they showed him several girls, but he didn’t like them. Fortunately, that woman went abroad and this theme ended.

          It is difficult to meet people like Buzrukkhan. He has his own philosophy, history, and finance and they are different from others’. Despite these, he lives abnormal, lends money from his colleagues.

        He works well, wears expensive clothes, eats and drinks well… However, he always complains about something. “Once upon a time, a rude king lived,- he tells this story sometimes,- he had a poor undertaker friend living a village. One day the king was passing this village and he wanted to see this undertaker. He saw that he became very rich: he had servants, carriages, tall buildings. “It means, my citizens are living in a plentiful life,” thought the king. “ Tell me how you became rich”,- he asked the undertaker. “ It is because of you,- he said,- people are dying a lot from poverty and famine- my income is rising.”

         Ok, we will return the theme…

“Father, you are nervous,- he said after greeting him,- what’s the matter? Yodgorkhon aka didn’t want to tell about the conflict with Basirkhon, but he knew that his son was very stubborn.”

“My cousin is making me nervous”, - he said finally and told about all in detail.

Buzrukhon was surprised, stood thinking about something.

“I will find a solution”, - he said remembering something. We will give him a lesson.

“How?”

“We will beat his mouth with money! I won a great amount of money from grant!”

Yodgorkhon aka heard about grants that people were winning money, cars and other things from television, but he didn’t know with all the specifics, so didn’t ask.

Next morning Buzrukkhon brought one bag of money.

“There are three million here,- he said,- give him all of it. I will call him. It isn’t worth getting upset. Make him write a receipt in order not to ask money again!”

When he left, Basirkhon came in an unexpected polite manner after some time. He was wearing his new dresses, shove his beard, and washed, he was very conscious.

“Brother, forgive me, - he said after greeting. I made you upset that day. Damn that vodka!”

“No, no,- Yodgorkhon aka said,- you are right. You are right! So I sent you my son.”

Both of them kept silent. Basirkkhon thought what his cousin meant when he said: “you are right”. Yodgorkhon aka spoke.

“It was true that our granddad left us gold: I sold it. Now I should give your share…”

Basirkhon didn’t know what to do: should he believe or not. He kept silence. Yodgorkhon aka went on:- Speak, my cousin, how much do you want?

This time he believed and he was so delighted from taking a great amount of money. He said hiding his emotions:

“It depends on you”,- he said.

“Is it enough if I give one million? It equals to a thousand dollars.”

He couldn’t believe it, but he behaved himself.

“If you want…”

“You will write a receipt: “I, Porsoyev Basirkhon, took from my cousin one million sums. I don’t have another suit” you have to say.”

He said so and put a notebook and a pen by the side of Basirkhon. Basirkhon was excited and worried about this unexpected luck and his hand was shaking, he couldn’t concentrate.

Despite this, he wrote something on the paper and gave it to his cousin. Yodgorkhon aka read it then he gave it back to Basirkhon.

“Basirkhon, I must fear from God: I think I must give you one million and a half. Rewrite it.”

Add these: “I don't believe people’s fuss I won’t look at the people again who gossip about my relative”.

          Yodgorkhon aka gave his cousin the money packing it in a cellophane packet. When they said goodbye each other, he thought “I gave him a big bone. He cannot say anything”. He also read this meaning from Basirkhon’s face “Old Fox, you haven’t been showing it for ages”. When they went out, a burnt rubber smelled in the air.

“Someone is burning a wheel”, - Basirkhon said.

“What dishonest people!” - Yodgorkhon aka said.

He became a child when he was with his grandsons.

“Ok, whose children are you?”

“Yours!”

“I will hide my middle finger: who will find it, he will ride on a horse,- he said with excitement.”

“I will find”, - Khasankhon said.

“Let me find first”, - Khusankhon said.

He hid his left-hand fingers, but both of his grandsons couldn’t find. Watching his husband’s cheerful face Istodakon wanted to please him more.

“Have you heard that the police arrested Basirkhon? He must have been drunk and fought with someone, -Yodgorkhon aka thought unexpected one million and a half can cause him trouble”.

“Did he fight with someone?- he wanted to confirm his opinion. No, they found handmade money from him, all were false, the number was the same…”

At first, Yodgorkhon didn’t pay attention to her words, then he was surprised and suddenly he said:

“From whom did he take it?”

His wife shrugged her shoulders. He cut short his wife’s word and standing up he hurried to the living room. Taking away a blanket he looked at the numbers of the money: they were the same. Yodgorkhon understood that he joined terrible crime and his whole body shook with fear. Suddenly, he remembered that both his granddad and father didn’t have graves. It seemed this bitter fate was following him too. Turning pale he stood not knowing what to do then he made a phone call to his son. The answer “Subscriber isn’t reachable” made him nervous.

          He was anxious. Then he came to an idea of hiding the money. He brought the paper rolled money to the yard outside and buried it under fodder.

***

          Three people came searching for him and an only local policeman was familiar to him. Even though he knew that this visit was the typical and logical result, his heart filled with grief. He thought about his all prayers were in vain.

       Their attitude to him was good. After greeting they entered his bedroom.

“Yodgorkhon aka,- said the familiar policeman,- you have Basirkhon’s receipt. You should give it to us…”

He didn’t refuse and gave them the folded receipt. They looked through it and put in a file.

“Now, you will find and give us the rest of the money”, - the older man said with a cunning smile.

“I don’t have money”, - he said.

“You have the money! - that man said faithfully, we will find it anyway,- but it would be better if you gave it to us willingly.”

After they investigated the house, the above-mentioned man beckoned to the policeman and he shackled him. “All is over, all is ruined,” the poor beekeeper though. “Will my coffin really leave other places?”

       When they were picking him up to the car, Honey appeared suddenly. She saw they had shackled her father-in-law and they were taking him with them. She was shocked and it seemed to her that this was an injustice, dishonesty, and oppression. She thought about her mother-in-law firstly: if she saw her husband in such situation, she could die from fear. Then she couldn’t control herself and threw herself into her father-in-law. Bending her knees she hugged his two legs.

“Father, what did you do to these tyrants? Damn them, damn them!”

Yodgorkhon aka also couldn’t stop his tears. The first time he told his daughter-in-law his grief, last wishes.

“Honey! You are my only hope! Don’t leave my coffin in other places! Spent money mercilessly on it! Take care of the children! Don’t let anyone insult my descendants! Look after my wife!’

When Istodakhon went out worrying about what had happened, they had taken her husband and her daughter-in-law was weeping. Honey couldn’t control herself and wrapped the arms around her mother-in-law.

“Mother, they took my father! Damn them! What will we do? What will we do? What will we do?”

“Who took him? Why did they take him?”

Hearing about what had happened Istodakhon couldn’t stand: she turned and burst into tears.

“Don’t turn your face, we will cry together”, - said Honey with sorrow.

Living in peace for years the family was in worry, sorrow, and sadness; it seemed that their quiet life began to ruin.

After they pressed themselves, they made up their mind what they should do next.

“First, we should go to Dum granddad and take his advice”, - Istodakhon expressed her opinion.    

Many years ago three people took their granddad Porsokhon and they didn’t get any information about his existence. Thinking about it she got sad, but she didn’t want to tell that mirthless sign to her daughter-in-law, but she had to encourage her.

“We have a little time- we will go to the police station. Honey didn’t agree with her.”

Both of them got dressed hastily and went on foot to the high way.

There were not many people on the bus they got on. They met with some of their acquaintances and it seemed that they were feeling sorry for them. Other people were talking and discussing false money and the man prepared it.

“In Stalin’ period this kind of people was shot”, - an old man said.

“Now, it is not difficult to bribe people,- the by his side agreed on him,- the beekeeper didn’t become rich only by his work- his son made his money, this… It is said that all the numbers are the same.”

Honey was a state of shock. She realized that they were talking about her father-in-law. She listened to them both with fear and shame. But ole men kept talking about Stalin. She didn’t know who Stalin was exactly. So she didn’t hear them later. She couldn’t imagine that her father-in-law was blaming for the matter of false money. She didn’t believe in it.

A doorman didn’t let them enter. Even though he didn’t give them any information about this matter, he only gave them his advice .

“You don’t stay here- find the best lawyer and convince him to protect him. Don’t waste time!”

           Next day they witnessed an unpleasant situation one more time. Those three people came and without their permission, they went to the yard outside and digging the fodder. They took the rest of the money, counted it there and drew up statement. Then they entered the bedroom and investigated again. They seemed to believe that Porsokhon left him gold. All of these actions seemed to bring terrible results.

           Honey planned to meet with a lawyer who used to be a public prosecutor. She brought a basket of honey to the first meeting with Mallayev. She thought people who worked in this field were rude and arrogant. But Mallayev wasn’t like that. He greeted the woman well. He listened to her with all his ears, but she couldn’t speak. In fact, if he had talked with her in an official or rude language, that wouldn’t have happened. She felt the lawyer’s kind manner and couldn’t stop crying with the hope that “we are not alone he is someone who can understand us”. Honey relaxed, then he asked about her father-in-law’s surname, name, date of birth. No sooner had she finished her word, he continued:

“Is he a beekeeper? I know him”, - he said, he is a good fellow!

After knowing about his problem, he continued in an encouraging way.- the smell of perfume doesn’t remain secret, Tajik people say. Justice should be seen! We will survive him! Even the case will be confused, he won’t be kept there more than six months: he is old- amnesty is granted in December. From what are you afraid of? It isn’t Stalin’s period! He won’t be banished to Siberia!

         She felt free hearing his words. She felt satisfaction remembering that every year amnesty was granted and people over sixty were granted. The first time a smile appeared on her face because she didn’t smile for weeks as if happiness disappeared in the world. She counted her fingers and convinced herself that only six months left until December. It seemed that terrible days had passed. The light appeared in her eyes. She regretted that she hadn’t been interested in who Stalin was.

“I should get acquainted with the case, then I will give my answer”, - the lawyer said.

“God bless you!” -she prayed him like an old man and went out with hope and joy. That moment Mallayev was going to stop her:

“My daughter, stop- I will give your basket.”

“No, she said”, - the basket is yours!

Sometimes, we feel such feelings that we cannot translate them into our language. She was experiencing this condition: she was happy that she was bringing good news to home and at the same time her opinions were confused and disobedient.

         Next week her mind was busy with some problems: if a prisoner died, would they give a corpse to his relatives or not? Wouldn’t they send him to Siberia? But from whom could she ask these questions? She wanted to ask Mallayev, but she was pleased hearing his words and didn’t ask. Going home she was glad not to talk about it.

      Seeing her mother-in-law’s worry, her heart was filled with pain. That’s why she hugged her as soon as she had entered. She began talking:

“We were feeling sorrow in vain:  my father-in-law’s case was very easy- they set to free him in six months. Mallayev said: “This isn’t Stalin’s period- he won’t be sent to Siberia.”

“What about Buzrukkhon, my son?’ -the woman asked.

“I will meet with his lawyer tomorrow”, -Honey promised.

***

The trial day Honey was ashamed to bring her mother-in-law: she thought that seeing her husband and son in jail would be painful to her. Besides, she had high blood pressure. She went there at the time the lawyer said. Until then several armed soldiers had brought Yodgorkhon, Buxrukkhon and two boys( Buzrukkhon’s apprentices). Looking at her father-in-law’s face she read sad complaint: “What did I do wrong? Why did you bring me here?”. And she cried again.

        After some time, other officials took their places. The trial opened and the accusatory document was read. They accused the people sat on black chairs of making false money. To tell the truth, Basirkhon was owed to a broker. That man was arrested while he was buying flour this money. Of course, he had told that from whom he got it etc.

That moment a lawyer (he knows Uzbek very well) protecting Buzrukkhon complained against the name of the accusatory document and pointed at the various pages and articles of the criminal code.

“They just experimented a new device from Japan. They didn’t use the money. That’s why I will suggest changing the name of this case and also the articles!” -he said.

“We have proofs and documents on the use of the money”, - responded a public prosecutor’s assistant beckoned to Basirkhon and the broker who was sitting in the hall as a witness after prolonged discussions.

       The  Next and  following days they questioned the suspects in detail and made clear various situations. Buzrukkhon confessed that he was guilty, had made money to try the new device, and chose that way to save his father from unexpected troubles. He stated that his father was innocent and also demanded (yes, he demanded) to set free him.

        The lawyer spoke for the old man. He proved his innocence with several documents and proofs. After that one of the judges:

“Porsoev Yodgorkhon, why did you hide the money under the fodder if you didn’t know that it was false?” - he asked.

Yodgorkhon aka’s response was unclear.

“You can give any punishment, but don’t oppress my son, please!” -he said.

Sometimes it is so suffering that life demands much more in return for little joy and abundance it gives us.

Finally, the verdict was read. Although the public prosecutor asked to sentence Buzrukhon to ten years, Yodgorkhon aka five years, and the two boys three years in prison, some situations reduced their punishment. The prime suspect was sentenced to seven years, the rest of the people were sentenced to two or three years in prison. When they gave the last word to Buzrukkhon, he behaved carelessly and repeated his that demand.

“I don’t care- there is no difference for: I can spend seven years in prison or in freedom. I am imprisoned no matter this. I am imprisoned morally. But you acted like fascists to my father and apprentices!”

One of his apprentices swore Buzrukkhon really.

“Will my life ruin because of this blue-eyed man?! He ordered- I did! I didn’t buy even a cigarette with this money! I will complain to the President!”

***

         After some time Honey became a close person for prison officers. She drew a guard and commanders’ attention bringing honey to them. When he came there, most of them were happy. They gave her several chances to meet with her father-in-law.

      The family counted days- they waited these six months passing quickly. After the decree on amnesty, the old man wasn’t released. Hearing that others were bribing the prison officers she agreed to give money. Since she had nothing more important than bringing her dearest person to home. But the prison commander didn’t covet money but asked Honey to bring honey taken in May. She said: “All right, all right” and went out to buy an enamelled basket. “If it is needed, I will bring again”,- she said when she was giving honey to that man.

        Several weeks later, Yodgorkhon aka was released. Honey looked for Tangriberdi.

“Brother, I have one request for you,- she said bowing slightly,- tomorrow my father-in-law will be released. I cannot find a man to drive the car.”

“Alright, deal!” -he said briefly.

       Honey wiped a tear on her eye. That day she washed her children, dressed them into new clothes. She dressed her mother-in-law too. And they went to bring the head of the family.

“Give your granddad a big hug when he enters the door, and say: “We are with you”, - she explained them. But because of some red tape, his arrival was postponed for some time. At last, the dear figure appeared and kids ran to him quickly. Then Istodakhon and Honey hugged him and shed tears of happiness.

***

Yodgorkhon beekeeper was changed a lot: besides his taciturnity, he became unsociable and pensive. If you ask something, he answered, but other time he preferred to keep silence. He rarely went out. And even then if he saw someone’s shadow, he quickly went in. the man who used to speak for hours about honeybees, the garden and a horse now just smiled when you started talking about these themes. The old man spent his most of his time in the bedroom. They brought his meal to there. All of those were the signs of his mental paralysis.

“He will get better soon, -said the relatives, - the policemen must have beaten his head…”

The family members were hoping against the hope that he would recover soon. But Honey’s worry increased after there hadn’t been any change. She said her husband:

“Dear, let’s go to my father-in-law with kids. Maybe he will be better when he sees them.”

“Sure, I will do what you want”, -he said and they entered the Yodgorkhon’s room with kids. The old man just nodded his head when he saw his grandchildren. Watching this situation, Honey’s eyes filled with tears.

“Daddy, why don’t you ask them whose children they are? Why? Why? Damn those people who made you like that! Damn them! -she said and put her head on his shoulder and cried again. Then wiping her tears she added. Okay, okay, it is enough if you are healthy! Your existence is our happiness! You will get well soon. You will go to control the garden with mummy you will be a horse for my children! Won’t you? Won’t you?”

***

Honey still works hard: she sets table in the morning, invites all the family for breakfast. Then she milks a cow, feeds the cattle; controls servants work. She opens carefully the lid of the boxes of honeybees and looks after them. If the number of male bees is more than needed, she kills them. At night she rides the horse like Yodgorkhon aka and goes to the garden. Sometimes she wakes up at night and goes to her parents-in-law’s bedroom. Convincing that they are asleep, she prays to God whispering.

        Sometimes hearing the gunshot from the garden jagalvoyli people fear a little.

Translated by Nargiza Muminova

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[1] Name of the village

[2] A stuff used to put underneath the tongue prepared by tobacco

[3] Brother (In Uzbek)

[4] People who died for the fight of a freedom

[5] Brand name of the car

[6] Generations of eshans

[7] The brand name of a Russian car