Ch 37 Diary

On the desk there were black bread and vodka, and beside it was a single bed Wang Yao just made. Now, he sat in a chair by the desk watching Ivan who was sitting on his bed wolfing down the food.

"If you are tired, go lay down for a bit."

After Wang Yao led Ivan into his room, he dug out his beddings and made the bed which had been empty for half a year. For some reason, he always thought that Ivan's shoulder wound hadn't healed and worry that Ivan would need to rest in bed any time. In those difficult years, people treated their beloved ones like treating the wounded and the young.

But as soon as Ivan sat down on his bed, he began devouring the food that Wang Yao just brought out. He ate and swallowed hastily, as if using these coarse grains and alcohol to keep down the sadness in his heart.

"Stop that!"

With annoyance and soreness inside, Wang Yao reached out the right hand, trying to wipe away the bread crumbs on Ivan's chin. But before he realized, his wrist was locked by Ivan's forceful grip causing him to suddenly lose balance and fell on the bed after a few stumbles. He sat side by side with Ivan.

Wang Yao knew that if Ivan didn't want to let go of him, there was no use struggling. Like the moment they met again just moments ago, this large young man surrounded his arms around him for the longest time, as though by releasing his embrace, the person in his arms would fly away like the dragon whose eyes were just painted on. Finally, Wang Yao had to tiptoed to his ear and coaxed him for a while before he released the person from the solid embrace. It reminded Wamg Yao of his childhood when his sister got lost and was found by him, he would have to comfort her for a long time before she was willing to come out from his arms.

"You don't have to pity me!" Ivan said with mumbling voice, "I'm two years older than you…"

But the terrible pain hidden in those violet eyes eroded Wang Yao's heart. He didn't know what to do, so he gently covered the empty left hand over Ivan's eyes. Could his hand be like his mother's hand that could take away all pains and sorrows?

"Vanya, I'm leaving tomorrow. I went to the city council and they permitted me to study in the military school. I will go back to the front three months later."

His gesture was intimate, but his voice was so plain as if talking about someone else's problem. Ivan was sitting still, allowing Wang Yao's left hand covering his eyes, but his mouth didn't stop mocking him.

"So you've got a great plan. Three months later, you will be lieutenant. Finally ahead of me, ha! Well, I can almost imagine when we meet again: I would be busy hugging you and kissing you, but unfortunately forgot to salute you—'Offending your superior! Soldier Braginsky, you'll go to detention!'"

As he spoke, Ivan raised his empty right hand and grabbed the other person's left hand—he felt that Wang Yao was shivering—now, both hands were under his control. Before he finished the last word, he thrusted from the side and the defenceless Wang Yao was thrown in bed.

The head hurt from smashing the bed, but compared to Ivan's tormenting words, it was not worth mentioning.

"I have warned you before. I'm also very good at taking captives." Ivan said unhurriedly. But Wang Yao didn't struggle, only mindlessly staring at the ceiling. No, he could had completely defended it, but he never thought about defending Ivan.

Ivan threw himself on top of him. Wang Yao's heart was beating anxiously under that broad chest.

"Yao! You have always wanted to go to military school, isn't it…You didn't go because of me." The hot puffs of air from Ivan's low voice made him tremble. "Now that I can't go back to our unit anyway, you can go wherever you want…"

Wang Yao turned away his face and his ears brushed over Ivan's lips. He burried his face deeply in his scattered dark hair, only leaking out a few broken words.

"Going to military school…only then, I could possibly be assigned to a new troop three months later…and meet you again….

"Russia is big. Once you lost a person, it would be very hard to find him again." Ivan raised his head and stuck his lips beside his ear, determined to trap him inside the disappointing conversations. "Well, but you didn't really dream for us to meet again? Who can assure you that you'll be assigned to the 62nd army? Besides, there are so many division insdie an army group…"

Ivan empited one hand and forced Wang Yao's face towards himself. Hair left a few strands of marks on his pale face.

"Why your eyes turn red, Lieutenant? What kind of soldiers will listen to you in the future?"

"I must meet you again." He heard Wang Yao's muttering voice. "I must stay with you before the war ends, because afterwards I will go back to my country…"

Ivan gingerly reached out the right arm from behind and helped this slender body to sit up. His left hand gently brushed through the messy dark hair.

"Really?"

"I'm going into the infantry school, so when I come out, I'll still become lieutenant of a reconnaissance unit. Vanechka, the Milky Way is the road of scouts, do you think that I'll ever leave it behind?"

He, Ivan Braginsky, envied this small room; he envied this lamp, the window curtain, the desk and the humble-sized bed. In the peroid of time unknown to him, they accompanied Wang Yao for three years in his youthful life; but for himself, there was only about half a year's time from the first day they met till this parting day that neither knew when their next reunion would be. He even envied those immortal names on the bookshelf: Darwin, Mendel, Schleiden, Linne, Pavlov…Among the works of these great biologists there mixed a plain-looking notebook. Ivan took it out.

"That's my diary before the war, Vanya."

"I'll take a good look! I'll see what the hell you have done in the three years that I don't know about!" Ivan waved that diary in his hand mischievously. He was only teasing, but didn't expect that Wang Yao actually nodded. With the awkwardness from his unsuccessful prank, he went ahead and flipped through it from cover to cover without finding a word that he knew.

Wang Yao couldn't resist the urge and started laughing.

"Oh, you…" He could barely lift himself up from the laughing, "When we were little, Chunyan always peeked at my diary, but she hadn't learned reading yet! You're exactly like her…"

"Then read a paragraph to me! This page. But don't translate into Russian. I want to hear your language."

"I can't translate it anyway. It's a poem…"

Wang Yao stood up and took a good look at Ivan. In this ordinary student dormitory room in Moscow, there was a voice from the Far East:

A white horse gallops in its golden gear
As if in flight to north western frontier.
Who is the cavalier in hurry great?
A gallant hero of the northern state.
While he was young, he left his native land;
His name was known as far as border sand.
Since then he's learned to draw the strongest bow
And shoot arrows of hard wood high and low.

As Wang Yao read on, the poem was as if pouring from his heart; as if the poem was Wang Yao himself. Ivan quietly listened to this foreign language of varying tones. In his lover's solemn, natural and sincere voice, the ancient country that he had never met before opened her sufferring but resilient arms to him.

"No, a person like this will not die." Ivan said to himself wordlessly, "Could this poem die?"

Wang Yao stepped forward and his face was instantly lighted up by the poem.

…

At the point of the sword in the hard strife,
How could he care for individual life?
He'd take no heed of his father and mother,
Let alone wife, children or any other.
Of heroes brave his name is on the roll;
He would not care when his death knell would toll.
The state at stake, he would give his last breath.
Would a homegoing soul fear to face death? *

"What is the poem writing about?" Ivan asked in low voice, "Yao, what is it about?"

"About me."

"Song of the White Horse", by Cao Zhi (192~232)

Translated by Xu Yuanzhong