Songs My Mother Taught Me; A Collection Of Short Stories

Konstantin

Siberia, Russia

1931

The forest has secrets here.

It whispers them, in breaths of wind that lift soft whirls of snow from the ground and makes old branches creak loudly into the inky blackness of the night.

The secrets of the forest are passed from one end to the other and back again. And all of the creatures, from the bears and wolves to the ants and moths, all of them understand what she is saying. It's just us humans who don't.

Deda often says things like this.

Sometimes though, is it best to not believe everything he says. He was the one who told me about Baba Yaga, the witch who sits in a pestle and mortar and has a house who runs around on chicken legs behind her. Deda told me that she grinds the bones of children and eats their flesh, and so I must behave... But I'm not sure if I believe him. He only ever mentions Baba Yaga when I ask too many questions and he is getting tired of them, so I think perhaps he has motives in telling me about her.

Still, I do not like to linger too long in parts of the forest, just in case. It's all very well me saying that Baba Yaga doesn't exist, but it won't be that when I'm being ground up to season her food.

Deda won't let me leave the house without Masha anyway and since Masha is more wolf than dog, I think she knows the secrets of the forest and will tell me if Baba Yaga is coming for me.

Deda likes Masha to come with me because she can always find her way home. No matter how lost in the deep, snowy midst of the forest we are, Masha will take us home. Also, she will protect me against anything. No matter what manner of creature could possibly attack me, Masha will fight it off.

I would perhaps be more inclined to hold Masha in warm regard if my grandfather didn't love her so much. Deda adores Masha with every ounce of his being. She's too clever though. Deda says it's the wolf in her and maybe he's right. She protects me at all cost, but both she and I know that she does it for my grandfathers sake, not mine.

Anyway, I'm particularly annoyed at Masha because of last week, when she hurt the man.

On that day Deda had sent us out to check the traps, the ones that he set furthest away from the house. Katya, the old lady who lives in the next hut along always hisses and clacks her tongue at this. She says that Deda must want to get me killed, he must want to see me eaten by a bear, otherwise why would he send the boy out into the forest with traps? Why not put them nearer the village, like everyone else?

All of this she mutters angrily, to Deda and myself whenever she sees us. Katya has known Deda since they were small children and she often tells anyone who will listen that he grows more stupid with every year that passes.

The truth is that Katya just likes to complain. She hasn't had to catch anything for herself in years as her son in law provides everything for her table and she would have no idea at all how near or far one should be in order to catch food. Deda does not send me so deep into the forest as she claims and anyway, I have Masha and I have a heavy old shotgun that Deda has taught me to use.

So, last week we followed the stream a little way down, right down to the furthest traps. Masha snuffled through the snow as though she could pick up a scent in it and it's just one of many annoying habits that she has. She was so intent on it that she didn't even notice the problem until long after I had.

Somebody had opened the traps.

Clumsily too, as if they were unused to the little latch mechanism. The traps lay scattered at odd angles, and the snow showed a tumble of footprints.