Her little son Kolya had become sluggish in exactly the same way, stopped responding to voices, and fell asleep on his feet. By the time she understood what was really happening, it was too late to save him. Vera had sworn to herself she would not let little Arsen repeat the tragedy of her own child.
That evening Arsen sat on the floor watching a pot of herbal infusion simmer on the stove with real interest. He grabbed a chair leg and, with visible effort, pulled himself up to standing. Grisha set the freshly carved wooden horse in front of him, and the boy took the toy in his hands with clear purpose.
Bath time in a wooden tub filled with the herbal mixture became an event for Arsen. He slapped the water happily, splashing drops onto Vera’s dark apron, and laughed out loud. Grisha watched from the doorway, moved enough that he quietly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
The next morning Ludmila brought Alena a short note from Vera asking for one more week. At the Vorobyev house, the sharp smell of bleach had hung in the air for two straight days. Alena was scrubbing floors furiously, having emptied every cabinet in search of some invisible source of contamination.
When Katya came by, she found her friend on her knees surrounded by piles of scattered belongings. She tried to reason with Alena, pointing to her hands rubbed raw and red and to the way she was behaving. Alena snapped back coldly, accusing Katya of maybe poisoning the child with those cheap imported blocks she had brought over.
The two women had a serious fight, fueled by nerves and exhaustion, and Katya left the bleach-smelling house without another word. Alena collapsed onto the bed on top of a heap of unfolded clothes. Trying to ease the pounding in her head, she rubbed her temples and hands with her favorite beige hand cream.
When Mike came home that evening, he found the house spotless and three trash bags sitting in the living room. He found his wife in the bedroom with hands reddened by chemicals and a vacant look in her eyes. He called his mother and, in desperation, suggested taking Alena to a real psychiatrist in the city.
Ludmila told her son to drive to Vera’s immediately and ask her what to do about the mess unfolding at home. Mike rushed over and described the obsessive cleaning and Alena’s red hands in detail. Vera said yes, Alena was in daily contact with chemicals, and told him to remove every suspicious bottle and container from the house.
Encouraged by the idea, Mike went home and threw out all the household cleaners into a black trash bag. He got rid of the bleach, detergent, and cleaning products, leaving only salt and the bottle of hand cream on the shelf. The next morning he watched with relief as Alena rubbed that harmless cosmetic lotion into her hands as usual.
Not long after, Ludmila called and said Vera had agreed the family could bring Arsen home the day after next. Instead of joy, the kitchen filled with a sticky fear that the unexplained illness might return. After lunch Mike drove to Vera’s in secret, wanting to see his son’s condition with his own eyes…
