The Suitcase / Чемодан. Книга для чтения на английском языке

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I’d never known that the metro was so deep, especially in Leningrad, where the soil is damp and friable. Twice I had to stop to catch my breath. The Stolichnaya I brought back was consumed in a minute.

I had to go up again. I was still the youngest. That day I went up six times. My knees hurt.

The next day we tried a different plan. To wit, we brought six bottles with us. But it didn’t help: our supplies attracted the attention of the men around us. Electricians, welders, painters and plasterers came by.

In ten minutes the vodka was gone. And I went upstairs again.

By the third day my teachers had decided to quit drinking. Temporarily, of course. But the other men were still at it, and they treated us generously.

On the fourth day, Likhachev announced, “I’m no punk! I can’t drink on other people’s money any more! Who’s the youngest among us, boys?”

And I went upstairs again. It was easier this time. My legs must have become stronger.

So basically it was Likhachev and Tsypin who did the work.

Lomonosov’s image was getting clearer. And, I must add, more repulsive.

Occasionally the sculptor Chudnovsky stopped by offering guidance and making some changes as he went.

The workers were also interested in Lomonosov. They asked questions like: “What’s that supposed to be, a man or a woman?”

“Something in between,” Tsypin replied.

The holidays approached. The detailed work was coming to an end. The Lomonosovskaya Metro Station was taking on a festive and solemn look.

The floor was tiled with mosaics, the arched vaults ornamented with cast-iron sconces. One of the walls was intended for our relief. A gigantic welded frame was set up. A bit higher hung the heavy blocks and chains.

I cleaned up the garbage. My teachers were putting on the final polish. Tsypin was working on the lace jabot and shoelaces. Likhachev was polishing curls on the wig.

On the eve of the opening we slept underground. We had to hang our ill-starred relief.

That meant lifting it with a tackle[37 - tackle – тали, подвесное грузоподъемное устройство с ручным или механическим приводом], putting in what they call pitons, and finally pouring epoxy over the fastening to make it sturdier.

It’s rather complicated lifting a slab like that four yards into the air. We spent several hours doing it.

The blocks kept getting stuck. The pintles missed the holes.