The Lovers - стр. 2

Although he insisted himself: “You must write cheat sheets!”

Yes, that’s exactly what he had said. “I strongly recommend that you write cheat sheets when preparing for the exam. But woe to the person, who brings them to the exam!”

“So why should we write cheat sheets,” the students would ask, “if we cannot use them?”

“Because,” Konstantin Konstantinovich had said, “a properly prepared cheat sheet is a concentrate, an essence…” He loved to wrap even everyday concepts in terms related to his subject, “an essence that is easier to remember, and which requires only the addition of a verbal broth to become the solid information, from which it was made.”

That was why Dina wrote cheat sheets, and not just for that subject. But she never took them to a test or an exam.

Afterwards, her cheat sheets, written in her clear small handwriting, were hot property amongst her classmates. They were even handed down like heirlooms to the younger students, for nobody else could create concentrates of such quality. Dina never could explain to them that the only useful cheat sheets were the ones you had written yourself.

Dina took the question sheet and walked towards the last table.

One of the three topics was one that Kokon (what the students called Konstantin Konstantinovich behind his back) was failing all the students on.

Dina articulated her answers quite quickly, and remembered everything that she knew from the supplementary material. The material was not compulsory but it gave the answer elegance and utter completeness, and elevated the person answering to the status of the initiated.

It would be a lie to say that Dina was not nervous. Of course, she was nervous, like any normal student. The difference was that she could pull herself together internally and forbid herself from wallowing in any destructive emotions and thoughts. It was as if someone inside her, someone invisible in everyday life, suddenly came alive and told her, “If you fear failure, it will immediately appear.” Even when she was getting sick, Dina heard the voice: “You cannot fear illness or it will be stuck inside you for a long time, simply accept it and deal with it like an opponent, eye to eye like an equal.” Dina believed this Inner Voice ever since the time that she had ignored it, and was immediately beset by a problem which the Inner Voice had persistently warned her about. She had gotten off easy that time…

Dina was eight years old. One winter day, after hours of sledding down hills with friends on the shore of a frozen river, she was returning home during dusk, along a road cleared by the bulldozer, between the town and the Selkhoz. That was what they called the village across the river where the town’s agricultural sector was located, with two-story white houses, stables, cowsheds, vegetable silos, and as it seemed to Dina back then, endless fields.