The Adolescent

I woke up late the next morning, and had slept unusually soundly and without dreams, I recall that with surprise, so that on awakening, I again felt unusually cheerful morally, as if the whole previous day had never been. I decided not to stop at mama’s but to go directly to the cemetery church, with the intention of returning to mama’s apartment later, after the ceremony, and not leaving her side for the rest of the day. I was firmly convinced that in any case I would meet him today at mama’s, sooner or later, but without fail.

Neither Alphonsinka nor the landlord had been at home for a long time. I didn’t want to question the landlady about anything, and had generally resolved to stop all contacts with them and even to move out of the apartment as soon as possible; and therefore, the moment my coffee was brought, I latched the door again. But suddenly there was a knock at the door; to my surprise it turned out to be Trishatov.

I opened the door for him at once and very gladly asked him to come in, but he didn’t want to come in.

“I’ll only say a couple of words from the threshold . . . or, no, I’ll come in, because it seems one has to speak in whispers here; only I won’t sit down. You’re looking at my wretched coat: it’s because Lambert took my fur coat away.”

Indeed he was wearing a shabby old coat that was too long for him. He stood before me somehow gloomy and sad, his hands in his pockets, and without taking off his hat.

“I won’t sit down, I won’t sit down. Listen, Dolgoruky, I know nothing in detail, but I do know that Lambert is preparing some treachery against you, imminent and inevitable—and that is certain. So be careful. The pockmarked one let it slip to me—remember the pockmarked one? But he said nothing about what it has to do with, so I can’t say anything more. I only came to warn you. Good-bye.”

“But do sit down, dear Trishatov! Though I’m in a hurry, I’m so glad to see you . . .” I cried.

“I won’t sit, I won’t sit; but I’ll remember that you were glad to see me. Eh, Dolgoruky, why deceive people: consciously, of my own free will, I’ve agreed to do all sorts of nastiness, and such meanness that it’s shameful to speak of it here with you. We’re with the pockmarked one now . . . Good-bye. I’m not worthy of sitting with you.”

“Come now, Trishatov, dear . . .”

“No, you see, Dolgoruky, I’m a bold fellow in front of everybody, and I’ll start carousing now. Soon I’ll have a fur coat better than the old one made for me, and I’ll go around driving trotters. But I’ll know within myself that still I didn’t sit down here, because that’s how I’ve judged myself, because I’m low compared to you. I’ll still find it pleasant to remember it when I’m carousing dishonestly. Well, good-bye, good-bye; I won’t offer you my hand; even Alphonsinka doesn’t take my hand. And please don’t follow me, and don’t come to see me; we have a contract.”

The strange boy turned and left. I had no time then, but I resolved that I’d be sure to seek him out quickly, as soon as our affairs were settled.

I won’t describe the rest of that morning, though there’s much that might be recalled. Versilov wasn’t in church for the funeral, and, by the look of them, one might have concluded that he wasn’t expected in church even before the coffin was taken out. Mama prayed reverently and, apparently, was wholly given over to prayer. Only Tatyana Pavlovna and Liza stood by the coffin. But no, no, I won’t describe anything. After the burial, everyone came back and sat down at the table, and once again, by the look of them, I concluded that they didn’t expect him at the table either. When we got up from the table, I went over to mama, embraced her warmly, and wished her a happy birthday. After me, Liza did the same.

“Listen, brother,” Liza whispered on the sly, “they’re expecting him.”

“I guessed that, Liza, I can see it.”

“He’s sure to come.”