expressing a great deal of trust in modern medicine. “Because, you understand—my work keeps me very busy, and she may be better off . . .”
The doctor looked at him as if he practiced cannibalism. “You know, this is the first time in my practice someone has asked me this. Usually parents are strictly against hospitalization . . . it gets downright ridiculous! But in this case, I strongly recommend that you keep her at home, she’ll be much more comfortable.”
When the door closed behind the doctor, Aspirin felt relieved.
Still burning up, Alyona continued to cough, but she had antibiotics, and they should kick in soon. The doctor promised improvement by the next day—quite possibly in the morning, but definitely by nighttime. Before he left, Aspirin put a thermos filled with hot tea by the sofa. The bear lay on Alyona’s pillow; Aspirin did his best to look the other way.
The cab got stuck in traffic, and Aspirin made it to work just in time. He put on headphones sideways to avoid touching his injured ear while everyone in the studio glared at him through the glass. He closed his eyes to shut everyone out, longing to see nothing; he began muttering like a voodoo man: “Just recently we sang praises to summertime, and all our worries were postponed until September. And here comes September, it’s almost here, but we don’t care—all our worries will happen next September, next year, or maybe they happened last September, and now we can all forget them as stories from our past . . . Children are getting ready for school, but keep your chin up, this too shall pass, and someday your school years will emerge in your memory as a fondly remembered holiday or a long-forgotten nightmare. Here is the top of a new hour, and we greet it by playing our favorite game—Finish with Radio Sweetheart! And when I say ‘finish,’ I, of course, mean finish a sentence, and forgive me for an inadvertent vulgarity . . .”
He shouldn’t have fallen apart the night before. He shouldn’t have offered brandy to his neighbor. She may have thought it was an invitation to continue. But she had helped, bringing that medicine for Alyona. And those chats with her helped too, even though he hated to admit it. He was so close to telling her the truth—he almost spilled the whole story. He wondered what she would have done. Calling an ambulance seemed kind of unlikely, because what would she have said? “My neighbor is suffering from acute psychosis . . . or acute hypnosis, more likely.”
It would have made a great headline: “DJ Aspirin in the Hands of a Band of Hypnotists.” He considered printing that, just for his own public relations’ sake.
“Alla? Greetings, Alla, here is your task. Are you listening? You are to finish this sentence, but very quickly, no time to waste: The day was dry and rather sunny. I spent the day with my pet . . . All right, Alla, that’s your cue—with my pet . . . ?”
“Rabbit,” the headphones suggested.
Aspirin opened his eyes and blinked.
“I appreciate your sense of humor, Alla. I truly do. Well, the five percent discount for any merchandise at The Tech Station store is yours. Stay on the line, don’t hang up . . .”
Somewhere in the untidy living room, Alyona lay on the sofa, sipping tea from a thermos.
Everything passes, Aspirin reminded himself.
That meant this too shall pass.
Part II
September
On September 2, still pale and weak, Alyona went to her first class at the music school. She returned an hour and a half later carrying a small violin in a shabby black case and a cardboard binder for sheet music. Mishutka’s head stuck out of her backpack.
“I need more money,” she informed Aspirin. “I have to pay for the rest pad, and buy music notebooks and pencils.”
“What rest pad?” Aspirin snarled. “Where are you planning to rest?”
Alyona rolled her eyes and pulled out a black cushion with strings used by violinists. “I understand your pain. We’ve already spent so much money, and now there are notebooks, pencils—all these huge expenses . . .”
Her sarcasm was very adult in nature, without a hint of a smile. Aspirin pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. “Here. Get whatever you need to buy.”
She went to the living room. Aspirin anticipated a revolting screech of tortured strings, but his fear had been premature. Twenty minutes later Alyona reappeared in the kitchen pressing the violin