87 292
89
Tango of Death
cooked beets and carrots,
then – pastry pies filled
with sauerkraut, then sour
stuffed cabbage with grated
potatoes, then Bavarian-style
sausages, then fantasy layer
tortes, single-layer cakes, and
strudels and pretzels, whose
aroma completely filled the
house and tickled the nostrils.
To school we also walked
together, even though we
weren’t the same age, but
we always kept together so
that no rowdy could cause
us harm, and we all lived
pretty close to each other. I
with my mother and Yosko
with Mrs. Golda on Klepariv
Street, Yas with Mrs. Yadza
on Brayerivska Street, a floor
below the apartment of Dr.
Lem, and Wolf with Mrs.
Rita on Horodotska Street.
We always met up at the
Cathedral of St. Anne, and
from there went off in a wave
wherever we wanted.
Of the four of us Yosko was
the smallest both in age and
stature, and on top of that he
was skinny, wore glasses, and
carried a violin around with
him. You can imagine the
spectacle as he idly wandered
with that violin that was
almost bigger than he was, so
we took care of him, because
everyone wanted to insult
this little shrimp. If I caught
sight of him somewhere on
the street, and if he weren’t
my chum, I myself would
have the impulse to stretch
out my hand, tear off his cap,
and throw it on a branch. You
won’t find quite a character
like him. When we first
started to try smoking, it was
none other than Yosko who
brought us cigarettes that he
stole from his music teacher,
though he didn’t smoke, was
a very obedient child, and
it was not for nothing Mrs.
Golda would say: “My Yoso!
He’s a golden child! It’s too
badhisdadcan’t takepleasure
in him.” Yosko’s daddy was a