Chapter 66

Chapter 662,281 wordsCompleted

The chapter opens with Ponia Liucija announcing a modest excursion on the Nemunas River, insisting that a ten‑person motor boat will be used and that Liudai must join. She stresses that the trip will be “small” and that the company will include a few of Indrulis’s acquaintances.

Liudai receives a call from Auksė, an American woman proposing a car trip to Suvalkija, Alytus and Birštonas. He declines, feeling guilty for lying and fearing that Auksė will discover his plans. When the appointed hour arrives, Liudai reaches the pier and surveys the assembled group: Indrulis is already on the dock, helping a pair of soldiers, three provincial ladies, and a local woman (“dabita”) climb aboard. Indrulis, dressed in white trousers and a blue coat, behaves sarcastically, greeting Liudai with a few words before ignoring him and flashing ironic looks.

Indrulis proceeds to ridicule Liudai publicly, launching a mock sermon and pretending that Liudai was supposed to be reading poetry on Jiesios shore with a woman named Gražulytė. The crowd laughs at his jibes, calling Liudai a pilgrim stumbling into the forest. Liudai remains silent, his humiliation deepening.

The boat pulls away, its motor roaring across the broad Nemunas. The water churns into foam and spray, while women begin to sing and men join in, lifting the mood. After a while the vessel reaches a quiet bank where the party disembarks to set up camp. Soldiers lug their luggage, women rummage through baskets, and the whole group makes noisy, jovial chatter.

They locate a clearing beneath pine trees, close to a thicket, and spread blankets. Liucija takes charge of the domestic side: she lays out a tablecloth, serves snacks, brandy, wine, and a bottle of “bonką konjako.” Indrulis brings a portable phonograph, and soon three couples, already tipsy, stagger around the pine needles, their laughter echoing through the forest.

Liucija refuses to dance on the grass, choosing instead to sit upright, gazing at the surrounding trees and the distant sky. Vasaris, seated beside her, asks her to recall a past celebration – a dance called “Puikios rožės” and other folk songs from the Aušrakalnis area. Liucija replies that she remembers those dances vividly, yet she feels a shade of sorrow, remarking that perhaps it is better to leave the past where it belongs. Liudai interjects, arguing that memory, even painful, supplies a sense of continuity; his remarks trigger a brief, tense exchange in which Liucija’s face darkens with melancholy.

The conversation drifts to the usefulness of recollections. Liudai claims that dwelling on the past is a hindrance, while Liucija maintains that those memories are a precious part of who they are. Their dialogue is punctuated by a moment when Liudai’s heart seems to pause; he clutches his chest, then steadies himself, his inner turmoil evident.

As evening deepens, the phonograph continues to play, and the party’s voices mingle with the forest sounds. Finally, the group boards the boat again. The return trip is marked by a serene sky, the river’s wide expanse reflecting the fading light, and distant silhouettes of ships and barges. The participants, now quieter, watch the river’s banks recede, each lost in personal thought.

Back at the dock, the boat is moored, and the participants disperse. Liudai, still feeling the sting of Indrulis’s mockery and the unresolved tension with Liucija, walks away with a heavy heart, contemplating his place among his peers and his lingering feelings for Liucija. The chapter ends with the river’s water shimmering in the twilight, symbolizing both the fleeting pleasure of the day and the deeper currents of Liudai’s inner conflict.