The Untouchable

Chapter 84

Daniel deeply inhaled the thin smoke from smoldering juniper and holly, feeling a bit lightheaded from the hyperventilation. He listened to the rhythmic, incomprehensible chant that seemed part prayer, part incantation. Turning as directed, he sat on a stool, taking the ritual seriously rather than mockingly. It was time to piece himself together, even if it was through someone else's mystical ceremony. The ritual's true purpose was not its specific steps but to help him reach the right conclusions. The verbal preparation had already set the stage.

Baba Songolik finished her chant and refreshed her parched throat with cool tea and milk. She poured some milk into a bowl of flour and began to mix it, swaying slightly as she hummed wordlessly. Daniel watched, curious but hesitant to interrupt with questions. He sensed she was in a meditative state and did not want to disturb her. She kneaded the dough into a sticky lump, then placed it on a flour-dusted cloth, continuing to work it vigorously while murmuring softly.

Finally, she exhaled, placed a plastic bottle of sanctified water in front of him, and set down the doughy lump.

"Strip naked. Use this dough to wipe your entire body - don't miss a spot, not even your hair. Think of all the good and bad things that have happened to you. Remember all the important people, both good and bad. Forgive yourself and those you can forgive. Then, wash yourself with the arshan. Cover every part of your body."

Daniel hesitated as he reached for the zipper of his sweatshirt, feeling confused. Baba Songolik tapped her finger on her forehead, showing disapproval at his hesitation, but she grumbled understandingly.

"I'll step out, don't worry. It's not like I haven't seen it before," she said, and left for the living room, which she grandly referred to as the hall.

Slowly, Daniel removed his sweatshirt, flannel shirt, belt, jeans, socks, and finally, his underwear. The last barrier felt like a significant step towards full immersion. He hesitated, then pulled off his underwear and tossed it onto the pile. Taking the warm dough, he kneaded it, recalling memories from his childhood. With a deep breath, he began wiping away the negativity, starting with his left hand.

The minor grievances of his childhood were quickly erased, warming him up for the more serious issues. The fierce arguments of his parents, his mother's helpless crying, his grandmother's indignant wails, and the sounds of blows merged into a tense backdrop. His own childhood hatred - pure and uncompromising - grew stronger, tightening his nerves. The face of his enemy emerged clearly - not his mother, as he'd thought, but his father. Young, wrinkle-free, slightly puffy from constant drinking, with bags under his blue eyes just like Daniel's. His father's face was smug, often angry, but could also be relaxed and almost beautiful when smiling. Different, yet always hateful.

His mother's image began to blur. The dark, harsh colors he had painted her with drained away, revealing a deeply unhappy woman who had loved her husband unconditionally and forgotten her only son. Her small gray eyes were narrowly set, her nose her only virtue, her thin lips on a longish face, and her luxuriant curly dark brown hair, just like his. Her face contorted in weeping, her cheek pink from a blow, her fingers white with effort as she clutched the arm of a chair to get up from the floor. Mommy, Mommy...

It was Grandma, the glue of their family, who burst to the forefront. Harshly slapping her son-in-law's cheeks for her daughter, screaming fiercely. Yet soft and exhorting, calming him - then still Danechka - reading fairy tales, guiding his finger in copybooks. Always accepting, loving, supporting. And then suddenly she was gone, her gaze shocked and lifeless.

Daniel groaned, dragging his dough-covered hand across his belly, feeling the sting of torn hairs. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, and moved his hand further, getting closer to the core of his pain, preparing to confront his darkest memories in great detail.