Summer Residents

The house Tikh received was a poor one, more a barn than a home. Living in such a place was no great pleasure. In the village there remained only the feeble: old people, cripples, and women with children, those who had survived. The people gathered what strength they had, scraped together such tools as they could find—saws and axes—and began to build log huts. Tikh’s hut was the first. The family that moved in was a small one: Mishka and his wife. The war had taken their children, and for the two of them the awkward little house seemed enough. As soon as people settled into the house, Tikh came too. He came at night so as not to disturb anyone. He tapped the logs with his finger. Then again. Tikh stroked the log with his palms and tapped with a bent finger a third time. At last the house understood that its master had come and opened a passage. Tikh slipped behind the stove. And the master had plenty to do…