White lambs белые ягнята

A boy named Aslan didn’t seem to stand out among the other children and teenagers, as he was self-contained and quite frugal with words. His nature was one of a quiet, balanced, shy country boy. It was not always easy to talk to Aslan, as he disliked questions, even less long stories and fairytales, but that didn’t prevent him from being inquisitive. Many years intervened. Aslan grew up, received a decent education, became a cultured young man, moved to the city, and practiced dentistry in one of the local medical centers. But long ago, in those distant childhood years, Aslan had been brought up in a village, attended by a kind-hearted old lady named Anna Konstantinovna.


Aslan was the first and only child in the family, with no older siblings or grandparents to look after him. Childhood memories brought back images of magnificent nature and sound of pristine silence, so very different from constant hustle and bustle of the city with its noisy public transport and endless flows of those in a hurry. In this whirl of people and cars one may forget about the beauty of the world around and even fail to notice the magnificent mountains covered with perpetual snow.


One day, in those distant childhood years, Aslan’s mother brought a woman into their family house. A nanny, old enough to be Aslan’s grandmother, was invited to look after the boy. Eventually Aslan, who first thought this stoop-shouldered lady to be very old, realized that the woman actually was no older than 40 or 45 years, but slouching and despondency had left their mark on her. At first, the boy was disobedient and capricious, not allowing Anna Konstantinovna – the old woman, as he thought of her - to touch him. Aslan wouldn’t even listen to lady’s fairy tales and gentle tunes of Russian folk songs that she sang. Aslan's father – a dry, short-spoken, and sullen man, who was in a constant hurry, – extended no sympathy towards Anna Konstantinovna as well. Simply put, the strange woman got a cool, indifferent welcome from the father and his son. Aslan’s mother, however, was not only attentive and kind to Anna Konstantinovna, but also supported her financially. And rightly so: being a gentle, considerate and good-natured woman, Anna Konstantinovna dutifully and responsibly attended to the children that were left in here care. That was how she earned the much-needed money.


As the days went past, Aslan started getting used to his nanny. He didn’t shun away from Anna Konstantinovna anymore and frequently asked her to go for a walk to a nearby grove with its shady terraces covered with dense grass and wildflowers. Occasionally Aslan would ask his nanny to go to the river that ran between two low hills southeast of the village, turning abruptly north at the fields of wheat and barley crops. In his curiosity and desire to wander away from home, Aslan always wanted his nanny to follow and be a reliable support for him. And no matter how difficult it was for her Anna Konstantinovna tried to keep abreast with the nimble boy.


Once Aslan climbed a high free-standing mountain away from the road and noticed a large, pitifully bleating sheep lying opposite in the dense grass. In the spur of the moment, the boy rushed into the grass so high that in places it reached his head. Approaching the sheep, Aslan noticed a white, wet lamb beside it. The lamb tried to raise to its feet, but could not do so, falling down and miserably poking its head at its mother’s side. The sheep, in turn, was anxious and did not pay much attention to its lamb. The new mother kept lifting its head up, somehow tilting it towards its tail and looking at Aslan pitifully with its wide-open eyes.  The boy was overwhelmed with compassion towards the newly born lamb: the miserable creature covered with sticky yellowish fetal membrane was still wet and shivering with cold. Baffled, Aslan first rushed to the lamb meaning to take it in his arms, but then frightenedly recoiled, not daring to do so. At that very moment a second, larger lamb was born, which, unlike the first, was able to stand on its long frail legs.   





The sheep, which suffered for so long, quickly jumped up and began licking its newly born cubs clean, now and again skewing at Aslan warily. The boy stood there, not understanding what had happened and what to do with these white, gentle yeanlings. By then came up Anna Konstantinovna who was no less surprised by the scene. She immediately took the weak lamb in her arms, holding it to the sheep's teat. Аfter several clumsy attempts the cub took the teat in its mouth and, to Aslan's surprise, began to suck, wagging its tail.    
    

The second lamb required no assistance in arduously suckling its mother’s teat. The sheep seemed pleased by how it all turned out and stood there quietly, licking its cubs. It was a warm, sunny spring day. The sound of lark’s song resonated in the green field, the butterflies fluttered about, and the grasshoppers chirped incessantly. The midday sun set high, and one could savor aromatic scent of field herbs and hear continuous melodies of feather grasses tops swinging in the wind.


Anna Konstantinovna fell pensive, not knowing what to do. Should they leave the sheep with two lambs that far from the village or, if not, is there a way to bring them along somehow? Aslan was so engrossed by the sight of the feeding cubs that he didn't notice a gray stallion-drawn cart come around the bend bordering the riverbed. The cart was handled by an old man named Maxim. He was a local who turned an honest penny by delivering hay, firewood, and flour to the village folk. At the sight of the cart Anna Konstantinovna immediately cheered up and, waving her hands, shouted for Maxim to drive up closer.

The cart drove up, and the nanny told Maxim about the sheep and its white lambs, asking him to help bring them all to the village. “It must be Zhailaubek’s sheep”, the old man mused, “I passed here in the morning and saw him herding his flock in the river floodplain”. Maxim tied the legs of the sheep and loaded it in the back of his cart, lined with freshly сut, sweet-smelling herbs and grass. The lambs which had plenty of their mother’s milk were put in the front, next to Aslan, who kept his fascinated eyes on the lovable creatures he felt so fond of. Maxim and Anna Konstantinovna were seated in the very front on a little bench.


Soon the cart started slowly moving toward the village. Before long warm rays of the spring sun and measured creaking of old cart’s wheels quietly put Aslan, who was gently embracing the cubs, to sleep. Anna Konstantinovna had never seen her boy so fast asleep and time and time again she would turn to Aslan, delighted by such an uncommon sight of a sleeping boy beside two white lambs. One of the cubs put its head on its mother’s side, and the other settled it on Aslan’s arm.



It appeared to be a protracted case, and tooth extraction was a difficult one; a young patient had to undergo several injections. After the procedure the exhausted boy fell asleep in a dental chair right there in the office. A young dentist seemed a little confused and dissatisfied with his work. He kept looking at his watch while seeing patients in an ill-equipped office of a rural outpatient clinic. Regional health department assigned their team of doctors to give professional medical advice as well as emergency assistance for the local population. An assistant nurse approached Aslan Tokhtarbekovich and asked to admit an old lady, who waited in line without an appointment.




“She may come in”, uttered the doctor not even turning to the front door. “Good afternoon”, said the entering patient. Hearing a familiar quiet voice Aslan Tokhtarbekovich tensed up. Suddenly a sunlit image came to Aslan’s mind: old Maksim, a cart with peculiar squeaking wheels, a drowsy boy with two white lambs sleeping soundly in his arms. The dentist turned around and his heart skipped a bit: sure enough, in front of him stood his dear, kind nanny Anna Konstantinovna.




So many years had passed, and time had taken its toll - a gray-haired old woman hunched over the years stood there before Aslan. Only her eyes had not changed, still radiating the light of kindness and intelligence. Anna Konstantinovna was no less confused when she saw her little boy. The unexpected meeting made a stirring impression. Aslan Tokhtarbekovich hugged his nanny tightly and did not let go for quite a long time. The surprised nurse sat down on a nearby couch. She was unaware why the ever strict and somewhat pedantic dentist would suddenly embrace a strange old woman, who, in turn, began to whine in a soft voice: "My dear Aslan, my darling boy, how you have grown, how handsome you got...”

Upon their return to the city the medical team, despite their tiredness and the late hour, was noisily sharing their impressions of the work done. The irrepressible urologist was full of medical jokes, the cardiologist echoed him, and the woman therapist talked about new acquaintances. Only the dentist, huddled in the corner of the ambulance, covered his eyes and, as it seemed to the colleagues around him, was dreaming about something. 

Aslan Tokhtarbekovich took little interest in the business of his co-workers. He closed his drowsy eyes and saw a bright image of Anna Konstantinovna.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Aslan clearly felt his nanny’s great influence on his inner world, his world view, and intelligence. This discovery made Aslan sad. He regretted that all these years living in the city not that far from the home village he had never once thought of his kind-hearted nanny, nor taken care of her. Aslan’s thoughts chaotically returned to his ancestral home, and just as he had done in his distant childhood on a creaking cart with his arms around white lambs, he fell soundly asleep.
    Aslan was awakened by what he thought to be a piteous voice of the lambs, but when he came to his senses, he realized that it was only a sweet dream, and, in fact, a long ring came from his cell phone, lying deep in his briefcase.

Written by Zhumart Karabayev
Translated by Ekaterina Kurova – перевод с русского Екатерины Куровой