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Tango of Death
Each jar carefully had the
date and the name of the
products. And in dark bottles
berry juices, plugged and
covered with wax, reddened
and yellowed. Coal and
firewood were still kept in
the cellar even though a
gas line long ago had been
connected to the building,
but auntie had her own views
on life. Yarosh was not even
surprised when close to the
top of the ceiling in the cellar
he found some smoked hams
that were resting in stockings.
When he pulled them out to
taste, he became convinced
that nothing was wrong with
them, just that they had dried
out a bit, but cut into thin
strips, they were fantastic for
sandwiches. Little bundles of
garlic, onion, red hot pepper,
dried dill, and caraway were
hanging on the walls of the
cellar along with little bags of
nuts. Apples and pears lay on
the shelves in straw, in the
middle of the cellar stood a
large plywood box filled with
sand, and in it there were –
carrots, parsley, celery, and
beets. He could make use
of all this other than the
preserves, just because there
were too many of the latter.
Yaroshmade wine from them,
adding to the grapes instead
of sugar.
Another cumbersome thing
remained after aunt – an
old Austrian piano, it looked
imposing and functioned as
a safe for Yarosh, where he
kept money and documents.
On top of the piano lay a small
album, which usually in older
families is called a “memento
book” or a “Stammbuch.”
Here house guests would
inscribe greetings, good
wishes, poems, and also draw
something. Every young girl
could boast about such an
album, sometimes several of
them. Yarosh flipped through
several pages, among the
variety of patterns – mostly