My Childhood - Maxim Gorky [56]
"That's a fine thing, I must say--very fine!"
I was so taken up by the sight I had witnessed that his words did not surprise me, and I went on with my story; but he put his arm round me, and then left me and walked about the room uncertainly.
"That will do," he said; "I don't want to hear any more. You have said all that is needful, my boy--all. Do you understand?"
I felt offended, and did not answer; but on thinking the matter over afterwards, I have still a lively recollection of my astonishment at the discovery that he had stopped me at exactly the right time. I had, in truth, told all there was to tell.
"Do not dwell on this incident, child; it is not a good thing to remember," he said.
Sometimes on the spur of the moment he uttered words which I have never forgotten. I remember telling him about my enemy Kliushnikov, a warrior from New Street--a fat boy with a large head, whom I could not conquer in battle, nor he me. "Good-business" listened attentively to my complaint, and then he said:
"That's all nonsense! That sort of strength does not count. Real strength lies in swift movements. He who is swiftest is strongest. See?"
The next Sunday I used my fists more quickly, and easily conquered Kliushnikov, which made me pay still more heed to what the boarder said.
"You must learn to grasp all kinds of things, do you see? It is very difficult to learn how to grasp."
I did not understand him at all, but I involuntarily remembered this, with many other similar sayings; but this one especially, because in its simplicity it was provokingly mysterious. Surely it did not require any extraordinary cleverness to be able to grasp stones, a piece of bread, a cup or a hammer!
In the house, however, "Good-business" became less and less liked; even the friendly cat of the merry lady would not jump on his knees as she jumped on the knees of the others, and took no notice when he called her kindly. I beat her for that and pulled her ears, and, almost weeping, told her not to be afraid of the man.
"It is because my clothes smell of acids--that is why he will not come to me," he explained; but I knew that every one else, even grandmother, gave quite a different explanation--uncharitable, untrue, and injurious to him.
"Why are you always hanging about him?" demanded grandmother angrily. "He 'll be teaching you something bad--you 'll see!"
And grandfather hit me ferociously whenever I visited the boarder, who, he was firmly convinced, was a rogue.
Naturally I did not mention to "Good-business" that I was forbidden to make a friend of him, but I did tell him frankly what was said about him in the house:
"Grandmother is afraid of you; she says you are a black magician. And grandfather too--he says you are one of God's enemies, and that it is dangerous to have you here."
He moved his hand about his head as if he were driving away flies; but a smile spread like a blush over his chalk-white face, and my heart contracted, and a mist seemed to creep over my eyes.
"I see!" he said softly. "It is a pity, is n't it?"
"Yes."
"It's a pity, my lad--yes."
Finally they gave him notice to quit. One day, when I went to him after breakfast, I found him sitting on the floor packing his belongings in cases, and softly singing to himself about the Rose of Sharon.
"Well, it's good-by now, my friend; I am going."
"Why?"
He looked at me fixedly as he said:
"Is it possible you don't know? This room is wanted for your mother."
"Who said so?"
"Your grandfather."
"Then he told a lie!"
"Good-business" drew me towards him; and when I sat beside him on the floor, he said softly:
"Don't be angry. I thought that you knew about it and would not tell me; and I thought you were not treating me well."
So that was why he had been sad and vexed in his manner.
"Listen!" he went on, almost in a whisper. "You remember when I told you not to come and see me?"
I nodded.
"You were offended, were n't you?"
"Yes."
"But I had no intention of offending you, child. I knew, you see, that if you became friendly with