From that day on, Saule looked at Ataq with different eyes. Now she closely watched his every move, studying him carefully.
She herself began to get occasional sharp looks from Ataq. This caused her to blush; the girl’s fair skin betrayed her.
Saule always spoke to him first, asking many questions, looking him straight in the eye during a conversation, as if she had a young boy in front of her.
She was no longer afraid of him the way she was before. Now she tried to remind him of moments from the past, to touch on topics about the city, about cars, things that Ataq would respond to.
Ataq immediately steered the conversation over to topics concerning life on the steppe.
For example, if she asked: “Do you remember the beautiful places in the capital?” he would reply by talking about the Nauryz holiday.
It turns out that it is celebrated in every country of Central Asia. In Qazaqstan it’s celebrated on March 21 — the day of the spring equinox.
About 40 families from nearby pastures annually gather here. There are national games such as ‘Qyz quu’ (‘kiss-chase’ or girl chasing) and ‘Qazaq kuresi’ (Qazaq wrestling).
Ataq said that in Qyz quu a guy (jigit) and a girl compete on horses for a short distance.
The girl is ahead by a length of two horses, and the jigit must catch up to her and kiss her. The girl is allowed to fight him off with her whip.
In ancient times, if the guy caught up with the girl, he had the right to marry her. And if he didn’t catch up, then all the way back he would be beaten on the back by the girl with her whip.
Upon hearing this, Saule bet Ataq that he couldn’t catch her. Without hesitation, the jigit accepted the challenge.
They talked about the other outcome of the race: If Saule lost, then all week long she had to bake her ‘signature’ cookie, which she hadn’t baked for a long time.
Every day she noted increasing success in dealing with Ataq. He was no longer as unsociable as he had seemed before.
All this was possible thanks to the information Aina Apa had provided regarding her son.
Before she knew Saule, Auntie missed having someone for girl talk and gossip. Besides, it was about her own son, so why not recall memories of all the happy moments in their family!
With each new story that Aina Apa told her, in Saule’s eyes Ataq became like a hero in a novel.
Saule knew Auntie very rarely exaggerated anything.
She couldn’t believe that this once prosperous guy didn’t have a girlfriend, because a man like him was the dream of every woman.
“It’s more likely that he didn’t share matters of the heart with his mother,” Saule thought.
But one day Aina Apa called Saule over and opened a trunk.
She began to take things out of it that she had long kept out of sight from her son.
There were books, a few clothes, and some things Saule had never seen before. Among them was a dombra — the Qazaq traditional instrument.
According to Aina Apa, the dombra was invented at the time the Qazaq people first appeared. It’s customary for every Qazaq home to have this two-stringed instrument.
There is an old Qazaq proverb about the dombra, which translated says: “A Qazaq is not a true Qazaq unless he has a dombra.”
Next to the open trunk were two similar boxes. But Apa claimed she couldn’t find the keys to them.
Even so, the girl had seen enough things to get a picture of their former life.
Now Saule had a better chance to make friends with Ataq: She would get acquainted with Ataq’s literary heroes by reading his books.
Only it was a pity that the dombra was broken — she wasn’t able to hear how this exotic instrument sounded.
On Auntie’s recommendation, Saule borrowed a two-volume book by M. Auezov.
The novel described the entire life of Abai Kunanbayev, the great Qazaq poet.
Its title was simply 'The Way of Abai'.
Ataq had hungrily read and re-read it several times, so Saule picked up the book with the same care as a marksman would lift a rifle before firing.
