The following day, my college friend Rose approached me, revealing the sergeant's name as Yakub, who expressed keen interest in joining us for a trip to the cinema. "I do not attempt cinema outings," I informed Rose, citing my recent hospitalization and feeble state. "What plagued you?" inquired Rose. "Peritonitis," I disclosed, hoping to evade further inquiry. "Ah, a dire stomach ailment," she mused. "But are you on the mend? You seem to have lost weight..." Rose trailed off, then affirmed her refusal to accompany Yakub to the movie without my presence. "I've made acquaintance with a Tajik fellow," she announced, redirecting her attention. "Yakub awaits us at the cinema," relayed Rosa on Yakub's behalf. "Let him wait. He won't extend another invitation!" I stood my ground.
Two days later, upon returning home from work, my mother presented me with children's shoes, supposedly a gift for my one-year-old son Slavik. "Look, Galya, a soldier dropped these off, claiming they were for your son," she recounted, as the soldier swiftly departed on his motorcycle. "What's this all about? Do you know anything?" I inquired. "Maybe I shouldn't have accepted them?" "I can surmise, but I can't be certain. Nonetheless, I must return them. He's an irritating nuisance, not a benefactor," I muttered under my breath.
Upon meeting Rose introduced me to her Tajik acquaintance, an undeniably dashing fellow. She briefly recounted Yakub's interest in me, he was prompting Rose again to disclose some private matters about me, barring any further advances. "Galya has a one-year-old son?" Yakub expressed surprise to Rosa. "Yes, and her boyfriend, a medical student, is also Kazakh like you," Rosa interjected, curtailing any further discussion. "I won't divulge more, lest Galya takes offense," said to him Rose.
So that's where the shoes came from... I cautioned Rose against disclosing any personal details about me in the future. She vowed secrecy, yet added, "If only you knew how he pines for you. You might relent and see him. I see his anguish on days without your presence."
The subsequent day, Yakub delivered to my mother sugar in a nondescript bag, indicating it was "a gift from an anonymous admirer." My Mother decided the gift was from Slava's dad Rafik, and expressed gratitude. Sugar aside, my mother's delight suggested, "Perhaps Rafik was also behind the shoes, but he's too timid to show his face, like a skittish cat."
Then one night I had a dream of traversing a high road, only to be obstructed by a man refusing passage. Each turn I made, he mirrored. Broad-shouldered, muscles rippling, he sat bare-chested. A futile impasse awakened me. I recounted the dream to my mother. "Will Yakub persist?" she mused, then added, "And he lied about the gift's origin." "They're all deceitful, Mom. Refuse any further offerings, and I'll try to deter him," I resolved firmly.
Yet Yakub proved craftier than anticipated. Upon learning of Rose's friendship with me, he pursued her relentlessly, ferrying her and her friends about me not just when riding with them on a motorcycle, but also in a car entrusted to him by the military. Serving in an anti-tank unit, he participated in military parades, earning commendations from his superiors. Hailing from the city of Chimkent were three of them: he, Dosmetov, and Kurmanbaev. When we'd happen to be all together, Dosmetov, an Uzbek, lamented his obligations, showcasing a photo of his wife and child. Kurmanbaev, a Kazakh, bemoaned his impending nuptials to his deceased brother's widow. "I must marry her per Muslim law," he confessed. "But I don't love her. I tolerate her as a sister-in-law, but as a wife, I cannot bear it." "Refuse unequivocally," I urged, envisioning my fate from an external vantage. "Thirty years of Soviet rule, and still beholden to archaic laws!" I lamented. Kurmanbaev sighed, resigned to his predicament, as I contemplated the fate narrowly avoided with Rafik's family: cutting my education short and slaving in the aul.
Yakub Umarbekov kept persisting in his attempts to call me out on a date through Rose, yet I remained steadfast in my resolve. At that period in my life, I did not feel like I needed him at all.