Baba Olga died and, suddenly, everyone was quiet and sad, which was odd because nobody really liked her. Nobody but Father, perhaps.

Unlike their other baba, the one mother visited often, Olga never made them any jams or any pickled veggies. Maybe because she lived in the city? Or, maybe, because she never wanted to be baba to begin with—she dyed her gray hair red, and preferred to be called Ms. Olga or Olga Bogdanov instead.

The only fun thing about bab– Ms. Olga, was her apartment. It was like stepping into a museum where every corner and shadow held a mystery waiting to be discovered. Especially the living room.

There, behind the smudgy panes of a boxy wooden cabinet, a dozen star-shaped pins sparkled like tiny rubies. Zhenya liked to imagine them as magical wizard's talismans, but Ms. Olga said they had belonged to their grandpa, a man so strong and brave that even giants feared him.

And then there were the animals. Real ones—dozens of sables, mice and various birds—standing stiff, staring down from their perches like guardians of some long-forgotten kingdom. Vova said they were all dead, but Zhenya wasn’t so sure. He could swear he once saw one of the birds blink.

Unfortunately, Zhenya and his brothers never got to play with any of the pins or the animals. If they touched anything, anything at all, Ms. Olga would take out her special belt.

"One hit, and you will turn into pigs," she'd say, pointing to a pig engraved on the belt buckle, and Zhenya could feel fear pinching his stomach. "Then I will slaughter you all and make delicious pork kotlety." 

Olga never said whom she would feed them to, but Zhenya was pretty sure it would be their parents. Vadim disagreed. He believed Olga would eat them herself because she was old and greedy.

Vova would only laugh. "Do you really believe this bullshit," he'd say. He never dared to touch any of Olga's stuff nor her special belt, though.

One more horrible thing about Ms. Olga was her stench. She always smelled of soup and cigarettes, but not as intensely as the red fancy rug hanging on her bedroom wall. The smell was so strong, Zhenya's clothes would reek for a few days straight after visiting her.

When she was dead, she didn't smell half as bad though; just of white lilies and dust. She was also still fat, which made Zhenya feel relieved. For a hot minute he was worried that his world eating abilities made Olga starve until she died. Not that Zhenya minded her being dead; it was Father. He would have been furious, and probably would hate Zhenya even more.

"I bet two rubles you cannot touch her," Vova said to Vadim, eyes wide, locked on Olga's pale face, as if hypnotized.

Vadim shook his head, nose wrinkled. "I can, but—" he said, taking a step back from the coffin, "—but I don't want to."

"Don't be a pussy." Vova grabbed Vadim by his shoulders and shook him a few times, making Vadim's head fly back and forth, back and forth. "C'mon, do it, do it."

Vadim looked like he was about to cry, boogers running down his nose, and all.

"Stop," Zhenya said. "Leave Vadim alone."

Vova furrowed his brows. "What did you say?"

"If I touch her, will you leave him alone?" Zhenya asked.

"As if you would." Vova rolled his eyes.

"I can do it," Zaika said. One high leap, and Zaika was in the coffin, poking baba's hand with his paw. "Not a big deal. Just like one of those animals."

She really looked like one. Just ugly. Zhenya got on his tiptoes and poked her hand.

Cold. Cold and wrinkly.

"Eww," Vova exclaimed, staring at Zhenya. "You're crazy!"

Vadim's mouth gaped open, but no words came out, just boogers.

"Why is she cold?" Zhenya asked.

"Because she's dead, you stupid," Vova said, letting Vadim go, who still had his jaw hanging low.

"I know, but why?" Zhenya asked.

Vova paused for a second, thinking. "Because the soul is warm, duh," he blurted. "And, and, dead people ain't got one."

Zhenya turned to Zaika who stood in the coffin. "It's true." Zaika nodded.

"Where does it go, then?" Zhenya asked. "The soul?"

Vova smirked. "I'm not telling you."

"Tell us, tell us," Vadim said quietly, wiping his nose with his sleeve, all wet and soggy.

"No!" Vova stuck his tongue out. "I'm never telling you!" He dashed towards the door, disappearing into the crowd queuing by the coffin.

Vadim, Zhenya and Zaika chased after him.

Right before running off, Zhenya glanced at Ms. Olga once more. He had to make sure she wasn't blinking when nobody was watching. She wasn't. Probably.