Saving the Canned Food

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translated by Olga Solntseva
Оригинал текста http://www.proza.ru/2012/08/22/1830               

I had no wish to see the director of the school. But I had to save my only child from inevitable chill and blindness. There were at once two reasons for chill: first – the broken frame, out of which chilly November draft blew,  and second – the lack of mates in the gym, where the first grade pupils had to sit on the cold floor.

I would rather say it is not about mates. It was about the teacher of the physical training who suffered from the lack of intelligence. Sure, I wouldn’t say this to the director? for I am too intelligent.  Why I mentioned blindness, meanwhile? It is clear. Eight lamps instead of twelve makes just some sixty per sent of light. To be more precise, it makes sixty six and six in period. Generally, it is horrible.

It was a frightening prospect: chronic angina, high degree myopia and amblyopia as a bonus. If you are not sure about the last term meaning, it means that you are lucky to have good eyes, unlike me.You see, I really had to save my daughter from irresponsible teachers! That’s why I have been sitting for half an hour in the lobby of the school N 123, the best in our area, meanwhile!

Waiting for the director's audience, I am looking around. Here is a stand with photos: kids in museum, kids near the temple, kids in the class. Here are the children in national cloths. All the kods look like to be fascion models – everybody is posing, everybody is smiling. What proper children, meanwhile!

Here, on the opposite wall, is a stand with diplomas and cups – the diploma for mini football  competition victory, the diploma for table tennis competition victory, the diploma from Police office for the excellent knowledge of road laws. What proper competitions, indeed! Look, here are certifications, too!  The certificate of the Director, the letter of appreciation of some Ms.Sidorova, the senior classes teacher. What proper schoolmasters!

And what I am? An unproper mother, to be honest. I feel danger all the time. So I'm  patiently waiting for Mrs. M.B. Kouzovlyova, the honoured teacher, audience. A  security camera is friendly looking at me. The same intense eyes are fixes everywhere: over the door, near the dining room and in the locker room. I am friendly smiling to the invisible guards.

I am lucky, meanwhile: today is the only visiting day. I do hope that Мrs. Kouzovlyova, like a fairy godmother, will wave her wand and will purge away strep throat and amblyopia, too, from my only child.  To tell the truth, I do not believe in the good wizards. I don't even believe in the good guards, locksmiths, electricians and teachers of physical training. But nevertheless I am still sitting on a hard chair and  can't help thinking that the name of the headmistress is too  familiar to me. Only I can't remember why I think so.

To apply to authorities is difficult to me. Why should I bother busy people with my minor requests, when I can help myself in trouble? Irresponsible men love me for this self-determonation.  All irresponsible men are too busy to screw a light bulb and to fix the window. But if at home I somehow manage with the bulbs and windows, in the school №123, the best in our area, someone should command «Fix it!». And this someone should be Mrs. Kuzovleva, I guess. What a familiar name, meanwhile!

I became self-determonated in my childchood. My recollections of green yaers are unlike the photos on the stands. By the way, how many photos I had got after ten years of school? Some dozens, I guess, not more. My favorite shows me standing with a huge backpack at the Yaroslavl railway station. As I remember now, the backpack weighed 18 kilos: my teenage friends were going on a journey to Arkhangelsk region. I was just twelve, the youngest in the band.

And what I see now? Grandmothers and nannies carry huge backpacks for their fifth grade kids. Poor children on photos! They did not even guess, how great it is to wade along through the taiga, to drive away moths by the pine tree branch and to dream about a halt!
- Marina Borisovna is free. You can enter.

Heavyset lady of pre-retirement age glanced up at me and began to read aloud my statement:
- So... Window. Lamps. Physical training on the cold floor. And what, actually, you are not satisfied with ?

I am  hesitating. I am not satisfied with total irresponsibility. Indifferent attitude or apathy,  in other words. This is the reason why disasters and epidemics occur.  Irresponsibility to my child is a special case of the universal apathy. I am not happy with broken window, broken lamps and physical exercises that make kids ill.

- Sit down! - The headmistress motioned me to a chair. - I'll check it out.
Ms. Kuzovleva took a thick copybook and began to flip it slowly.
- And you, lady, are a great complainant! Look, you've already complained to the head teacher about these lamps. You've  left a note to the attendant. Here you've again disturbed schoolmasters. You, actually, like to disturb the public peace! And you do teach this your daughter, don't you! Here is your complaint on the art teacher. Listen, you pass all bounds!

Unblinking gaze of Mrs. Kouzovlyova is like the eye of the security camera. The conversation has come to a dead end.

- I came to complain about the art teacher, because she shouted at the children, forced them to stand half of the lesson and opened the window in the classroom, while it's not summer. My girl became ill because of this and she doesn't want to go to the drawing lessons. Meanwhile, these lesson are held to enforce children’s creativity! People who feel ill and humiliated don't feel themselves free? and that's why they are unable create anything good. It is strange, that the other parents don’t care about this fact.

- Look, lady! - Kuzovleva looked at me with an evil grin. - Why you speak out such unproper words? Creativity! Humiliation! Freedom! If you want to know my opinion, children have to be kept in iron! Yes-Yes, in iron! Believe me, dear, I know. If they are not, wait for the trouble! And as a result, it will be you who will be   humiliated and insulted  by the Prosecutor! Cast-iron discipline - that is my school proud of. All kids must be present in the classrooms. If a pupil misses a lesson, the parent has to write an explanatory note which the obligatory phrase: «I am responsible for life and health of my child.» We inform the authorities about the parents who allow their children to break the discipline, and who do not write letters of explanation. So sit down, my dear, and write three letters of explanation - for the eighth, fifteenth and for the twenty-second of October. And don't forget to mention that you are fully responsible for the safety of your child in the time of missed classes. Write!

Mrs. Kouzovleva handed me three sheets of paper, warmly saying:
- You're a young and inexperienced woman. Everything can happen to a child. Do not forget about this.

In the corner of the headmistress’s cabinet, under the ceiling, one more security camera is friendly looking at me. I am desperately trying to make the last attempt:

- Would you, please, tell me, Marina Borisovna, why don't you trust the children? I know, you are the honored teacher. So, don’t you realize that most of terrifying stories by TV, are just someone's sick invention? There are real and fable threats, you know. The real threats are drafts, burnt out lamps and sitting on the cold floor. There are not so many threats in your school, I hope. It isn’t obligatory to fight against them. You may simply remove them. And what’s about fable  threats, there are unnubered and you may fight against them all your life long!

I handed my manuscripts to the headmistress: «I make myself responsible for...»

Mrs. Kouzovleva  read carefully all three sheets, then put them into a separate file and then fixed it in a folder. Then she slowly cleared her throat by a loud cough and told:
- No one should trust the children. You must all the time keep an eye on them, otherwise you'll be in trouble. My own bitter experience had taught met this.
She made an impressive pause, and then continued thoughtfully:
- Then I  was at the age of twenty, and studied at the Pedagogical
Institute, evening Department. During daytime I worked as an instructor in the district House of young pioneers. I've got thirty years of pedagogical experience, for you to know. And then I was just a novice. Haw many daring plans I had then! I loved the romance of travel, fires and guitar songs. Have you accidentally ever been to the North?
- No, - I lied not knowing why and shook my head for the credibility.
- And I had a chance. Once I  went to the trip with a group of young pioneers. The children were from 14 to 16, and there was one younger girl, probably twelve years old of. She was very brisk, I'd say, such a  fussy one. She wanted to be first everywhere. And let me tell you, that our route was very difficult. Not every adult copes with this route! We were going through the woods for two weeks: saw a bear,  and a wild boar, and all the time there were clouds of mosquitoes. We had to cross the river on rafts. It was an adventure, I say!

Mrs. Kouzovleva paused, and then again expressionlessly looked at me, continuing:
          - Probably, I also wanted then to feel older than I actually was. It’s  now I want to feel younger. Isn’t it a paradox?  Well, about the girl. To be honest, I don't remember her name. But what did she do?  She decided to drag the raft with the older boys. Three rafts had been made, and we had put on them all the backpacks. Somehow I turned away and did not notice, that this girl had pushed the raft into the water and started to swim next to the raft to the other side of the river. I was like an electric shock to me, you know! I suddenly turned to the river and saw the raft floating downstream, and a cap floating aside it. And the river was very fast, and there were whirlpools everywhere. I  don’t know, how I managed to pull her out. The backpacks with the canned food went to the bottom, sure.

Mrs.Kouzovleva leaned forward, and looking straight in my eyes, clearly said:
- And since that time I made it a rule: children must be under the supervision! Teachers must control them at school,  parents at home. There should be no accidents! If you, lady, don’t like anything here, you better find another school for your daughter!  It will be better for you both.
She sighed and shook her head disapprovingly:
- You, anyhow, will hardly protect her from the danger. And what's about the lamps and the windows, don't worry, I'll make orders.


On the street I suddenly became ill. I was leaning against a post of the school fence, and it was difficult to breathe to me. The head was pounding, and nausea constricted my throat. I felt  squeamish, as if I'd throw up muddy water. I felt no gratitude to the woman who had saved my life. On the contrary, I was waching her grin, as  it was thirty years ago: « You won't manage, for you're too weak, baby!» My recollections were like old yellow photos. I caught a glimpse of the forest, the river and the floating raft, which the senior guys had forgot to fix properly. All the stock of our canned food two weeks ration was laying on the raft. It was necessary to save the cans at all costs.