The sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, with small particles of dust dancing in the hazy sunbeams. Outside a few birds were chirping, on such a day children would be outside playing...well not all of them.
Illya Kuryakin sat at the table there with his Babushka, listening to her as she drilled him in his lessons.
The school the boy had once attended was closed down as the teachers there had been taken away. Whether they were forced to join Stalin's ever growing army, been deported to Siberia or executed by the secret police, no one knew for sure.
The great starvation of the Holodomor, was long past, and recovery from it had been hard, but now other dangers faced the people of the Ukraine.
Too many had disappeared; they were rumored to have been executed as they like the farmers called kurkuls had refused to submit to collectivization They were deemed the class enemy, and brutal enforcement by regular troops and secret police were used to destroy them as a class. Eventually anyone who resisted collectivization was considered a kurkul.
The boy had a piece of slate in front of him and a piece of chalk in his hand and quickly wrote down his answer.
"That is correct, very good."
"Baba it was too easy. Give me something harder please?"
"You are bold but polite so I will," she laughed. Though in truth she was amazed that a boy of barely seven years was so quick and intelligent.
"Very well, here is your problem. Two trains leave different cities heading toward each other at different speeds. When and where do they meet?"
"The first train, traveling 70 km per hour, leaves Kyiv heading toward Chernihiv, which is 152 km. from Kyiv. At the same time a train, traveling 60 km per hour, leaves Chernihiv heading toward Kyiv. When do the two trains meet? How far from each city do they meet?"
Illya scratched his head, but didn't put chalk to the slate.
"Too hard for you?" His grandmother winked.
"No Baba. That was a trick question as trains do not run between Kyiv and Chernihiv."
His babushka smiled, clapping her delight. "Well done! You are a clever boy indeed, and that deserves a little reward before we continue with our lessons."
She stepped over to the bread box, and opened it and took out a loaf of freshly baked brown bread. From the cabinet she took out a small tin of raspberry preserves and put a little on a slice of the bread for him.
This was one of his favorite treats.
"Spasibo Baba." He munched away on it, making it disappear in no time. While he was eating his grandmother readied the pelmeni she'd made earlier to be boiled, then fried in a bit of lard.
Traditionally the dumplings were filled with meat such as beef, lamb or pork but none of these were to be had. These were filled with mushrooms, onions and turnips. The only meat they had on a near regular basis they was chicken and that's wouldn't do for the pelmeni, that was needed for the large pot of soup she was also cooking.
The Kuryakin family was lucky enough to have a milk cow, a pair of goats and a flock of chickens, so their supply of milk, both cow and goat gave them the means to make sour cream, and cheese and have milk for the children to drink.
The chickens provided plenty of eggs and once in awhile one of them was slaughtered for roasting and making soup.
On the stove that pot of chicken soup was now cooking, with wide homemade noodles in it along with carrots grown in the vegetable garden behind the dacha.
Their supply of chickens were pretty steady, as Nicholaí Kuryakin was quite handy with wood, and was always asked by someone to build something or repair that which was broken. They didn't always have enough money to pay him, so often a chicken was added to the deal, or potatoes, basically anything that could be spared.
Being a generous man like his father, he would refuse payment if he knew the family was too poor to be sacrificing their food to pay him. What were a few nails anyway?
When he left the farming collective, he brought with him his tools that he used to make crates for the food to be shipped out via train. He also was given a large cask of nails. Enough to last a very long time,
That was his final pay. Useful, but it still didn't put food in his family's bellies, but it would have to do, like everything else. Though they were not starving now, the hunger could be upon them at any time. One never knew.
As Stalin bled the farms dry to feed his growing armies; the work was no longer there as all the food was gone. It would soon affect the people living here, again. He failed to destroy the Ukrainian people during the Holodomor, and now he was going to make them pay again for surviving.
Nicholaí's skill with wood helped keep his family from going hungry...that and being one of the few people who owned two rifles; that was almost unheard of, but Kuryakin was an intelligent man and knew how to work a deal. That was how he got the guns or more so thanks to his mother who had saved some of her jewels before she and the Count and their son were evicted from the great house in Kyiv, many years ago.
Those guns were needed once Count Alexander Sergeivich Kuryakin was taken away by the NKVD and sent to the 'Solovki Special Purpose Camp,' a forced labor camp in the Solovetsky Islands in the White Sea, where was considered the mother of the gulags.
Nicholaí became the head of the household at a young age, and did whatever he had to to protect the family.
Now, slaughtering the milk cow and the goats would be a court of last resort, as would all the chickens. With the threat of war he knew that was a distinct possibility.
He supplemented their diets by hunting, usually rabbit, deer, geese, grouse and once in a rare while he bagged a pheasant. When it was an especially good hunt, Nicholaí shared some of the meat with his neighbors, especially Mrs. Greshchenkov, who was his mother's friend. She lived not far away and was alone, as her son had been taken for the army. There was no one to look after her, so Nicholaí took it upon himself to do so. Sometimes he would send Dimitry and Illya to help with the woman's chores as she was not in the best of health, with a weak heart.
Though religion was frowned upon, he taught his sons that it was the Christian thing to take care of one's neighbors.
Had not Nicholaí and his eldest son Dimitry been gone several days on a hunting trip, they two would have been taken against their will, like so many others who were now serving the Soviet people in the Red Army.
Nicholaí and Dimitry were away for longer and longer trips. They were not the only ones hunting, and encountered many cruel traps that left animals to die a painful death, or lose a limb having chewed it off to escape. There was little choice for people who weren't lucky enough to have fire arms.
Still, hunting was becoming more difficult as the wolves were coming down, becoming emboldened by hunger as they too were on the hunt.
The senior Kuryakin no longer let his children play alone outside, though his wife was there she had her own chores to tend to as well as the twins, Sasha and Misha.
The small barn was fortified, as was the chicken coop, should there be any unwanted visitors both, human and beast.
Marina Kuryakina checked their supplies in the cabinet. They were running low on flour, oats, millet and lard and tea as well. it was time to take a trip into Kyiv to the Yevbaz Bazaar. It was the place to buys or trade for such things.
After the pelmeni were boiled, she put them in a heavy iron skillet with a small bit of lard, frying them up.
"That makes me hungry Baba," Illya said.
"Boy you are always hungry. I will never understand why you are so skinny…" she stopped herself, realizing Illya was perhaps so small and skinny because of their limited diet, especially when his mother was pregnant with him. Still, they had to ration their food carefully. There was no choice.
Lunch would be some soup with more bread. Tonight's supper would be the pelmeni, with boiled cabbage and potatoes, goat cheese and bread with butter. Hot tea was their only drink besides water. That was the heartiest meal of the day, usually after a hard day's work.
The batch of soup she made would last them several days if she watered it down a little bit, and added more carrots to it, and maybe some onions.
"Say that to me in Ukrainian, followed by German and then in French."
"Say what Baba?"
"Say that is making me hungry Ukrainian, German and French please?"
"Oh. Tobto robytʹ mene holodnym, Das ist mir hungrig macht. Cela me rend faim."
He did, and did it well, switching between the three languages with the fluidity of a native speaker.
"Very good Illya," she took a pelmeni from the pan and after blowing on it to cool, she gave it to the boy.
He and his grandmother continued their conversations switching back and forth from language to language.
Marina was pleased with her grandson and he was bright beyond his years. His older brother Dimitry had a different kind of intelligence. He didn't like reading books, no the boy like reading nature being in the woods, tracking and hunting. The oldest Kuryakin son was becoming better than his father at his tracking skills as well as hunting.
He could come up behind you and never be heard, and had startled his grandmother on many an occasion. The one thing she admired most in the boy was his willingness to show what he knew to Illya, who was quite younger than him. Yet the little blond boy was a fast learner and did as his brother told him. It was rare Dimitry had to show his little Illyusha something more than once.
Tatiyana Kuryakina had just finished feeding and changing Misha, and Sasha her twin baby boys. Katiya her beautiful red haired girl was cleaned up for supper and helped her mother set the table.
It would be for the four of them as Nicholaí and Dimitry were out hunting again.
After supper, the kitchen was cleaned and the pot of chicken soup was stored down in the root cellar to keep it cool.
Everyone settled down in the sitting room, letting the fire in the hearth warm them.
Marina played the concertina to entertain everyone and soon it was time for evening prayers.
She placed the small family icons on the mantle and she, her daughter in law as well as Illya blessed themselves. Katiya did as well though managed to do it backwards. She was a little too young to really understand, and was just mimicking her everyone else but more her brother whom she adored, and he adored her as well.
Being the matriarch, Marina led the prayer.
"O Eternal God and King of all creation, Who hast granted me to reach this hour, forgive the sins I have committed this day in deed, word, and thought; and cleanse, O Lord, my humble soul of all impurity of flesh and spirit, and grant me, O Lord, to pass the sleep of this night in peace; that, rising from my lowly bed, I may please Thy most holy name all the days of my life, and thwart the enemies, fleshly and bodiless, that war against me. And deliver me, O Lord, from vain thoughts and evil desires which defile me. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory: of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen."
"Time for bed my little angels, "Tanya said, as she picked up Katiya in her arms, followed by Illya who followed her upstairs to their room.
"Illyusha you will have big day tomorrow."
"Why Mama?" He yawned.
"You are going to the Bazaar with Babushka."
"Really?" His sleepy eyes opened wide.
"Hmmm, maybe I should not have told you as now you might not sleep, I think."
"I promise Mama I will."
"Good, as I will check on you later to make sure you are."
Illya changed to his night shirt and climbed into his feather bed, while his mother undressed Katiya and put her in her cot. Their bedroom was small, but its size helped to keep them warm. Dimitry's bed was there as well, though it would be empty for a few days.
Sasha and Misha were in their cradle in their parent's room, and Marina had her own room as well.
The dacha wasn't spacious but was homey and cozy. Right now it wasn't cold enough to light the small cast iron stoves in the bedrooms, but still their supplies of wood were laid in, readying for winter. It would be here before they knew it.
Illya dreamed of the bazaar with its brightly colored flags and tents. He'd only been there once before but found it all too exciting. He father had built a number of the tables for the vendors. Each seller had their space allotted them and they were responsible for it. His last visit there had been when things were becoming prosperous again.
Morning came quickly, and Illya was up and washed before he sat at the kitchen table for his breakfast. Kashi with warm milk was hearty and would keep him full until he and his grandmother returned home from the city.
After breakfast he went out to the barn, and catching the billy goat called Petya, he harness him to a small goat cart. When it was ready, Baba came outside.
"Illya help me with these?" She carried with her a tub of butter, a small wheel of goat cheese, a basket of eggs and a basket of apples from the tree in their yard. These things they would use to barter for what they could, and would pay for the balance with what few rubles they had.
It would take them most of the morning to walk to the city, and Tanya had prepared a lunch for them. Brown bread with jam, a lunch pail of chicken broth and a smaller one with tea.
As they walked towards Kyiv Illya began questioning his grandmother.
"Where did you learn to speak German and French?"
"Oh when I was married to your grandfather. We were at the court of the Tzar and it was necessary to converse in these languages. Your grandfather the Count and I lived in a fine house in Kyiv with marble floors and columns; there was a grand staircase the curved up to the second floor; we had a small ballroom, a study, a music room, a dining room and would you believe six bedrooms. We had guests all the time if we weren't traveling."
"Where did you go?"
"Oh, Paris, Vienna, Salzburg. Hh the balls were wonderful. Your grandfather and I danced into the night. My gowns were so beautiful and would flow gracefully as I…"Marina stopped herself. "Illya you must never repeat these things to anyone my child."
"I know Baba, Papa explained to be about grandfather. They told me in school...when we still had a teacher, that the aristocracy and nobility were evil people who abused the downtrodden masses. Some knew about grandfather and made fun of him and me. I had fights with them, but Papa told me I was to ignore their taunts and turn the other cheek."
"And did you?"
"Yes Baba, though I did not want to. I wanted to punch them in the nose, especially that boy Maksim who was very mean to me, but I did nothing as I was told."
"Good boy, I am very proud of you Illyushenka."
"Baba, is the big house still here in the city, you know your house?"
"It is, but now people live in it, many families I am told. What we were unable to take with us when your grandfather, father and I were evicted they kept or sold. The books we have, the concertina, bedding, clothing and the icons were all we could take with us...and a little bit of my jewelry. I was able to sneak out some of that, and your grandfather's pocket watch, his lucky coin and some silver. I saved those too. Much of the valuables we later sold to buy rifles and ammunition for hunting, pots and pans, and to put stoves in the dacha."
"I like our dacha, it is just right."
"Ah my boy, it was only meant as a summer house but now we lived in it year round; there were things that needed to be done to make it warm and safe."
"Can we go see the big house?"
"May we…"
"May we go see the big house?"
Marina hadn't seen it in so many years, and wasn't sure she wanted to do so. It would make her sad perhaps, seeing the home she once had with her beloved Alexander. Her beautiful husband was gone too, held prisoner in the Solovki gulag. That made her think of someone she hadn't thought of in a while. A friend Alexander had made at the court of the Tsar, and American who had been the new ambassador to the Tsar Nicholas and Romanov court. He was a handsome dark haired man, with lovely hazel eyes. Julian Solo was his name… though he was back in America now. She reminded herself to write him a letter and ask if he could perhaps help in getting her Alexander released from the gulag. The two men had become fast friends, even though the man was here for only a short time.
"All right, follow me. " She led him down a few streets until they came to what had once been a beautiful house.
"Come," Marina held out her hand, taking hold of Illya's. She led him up the stairs leading to the heavy front door that was ajar.
She pushed it open and together they stepped inside.
The floors that were once polished marble were scratched and dirty, everything looked dirty. The beautiful planters and statues that had adorned this foyer were long gone, leaving it bare and skeletal.
The fireplace there was blackened and empty. Marina swallowed hard at what they'd done to her home. There were several posters showing figures of soldiers in a defiant pose plastered to the walls.
They walked slowly towards what had been the ballroom as it was the only door open. Everything else was closed tight, the lovely darkwood doors scratched and abused.
She peeked inside, seeing people milling about, beds scattered everywhere, and the stench was terrible. Apparently the downtrodden masses were more also the unwashed masses.
"What you want?" A half toothless woman demanded.
"Nothing. We umm, have the wrong place. Sorry."
"You looking to sell the boy? I know someone who'd like a boy like him."
Marina was horrified and swept Illya up in her arms as she hurried out the door.
"Baba," he whispered. "I did not like that lady? What did she mean about buying me?"
"Nothing Illya, forget what you heard and saw. Do not tell your parents I took you here."
"Yes Baba. It must have been a very nice home when you lived there with grandfather."
She reached down, gently stroking his cheek."Thank you Illyusha. I am glad I went to see it, though ruined it made me appreciate all the good things that took place there. Now come, we must find what we need at the bazaar."
They found their way there and guided the cart among the stalls, finally arriving at the one they needed. Though Illya had to shoo away Petya from nibbling on things that weren't his to eat.
"Ah Hallo, Comrade Kuryakina, how are you?" A man standing behind his table of wares called out to her.
"Hello ummm, Comrade Ulyanin... Oleg, "she winked at him.
"Madam Marina, we have known each other a long time, have we not?" Oleg whispered." Any word on your husband?"
"No, sadly there is none."
"I will keep him in my prayers that he will regain his freedom. There are those of us who remember his many kindnesses. The money he gave my father saved my mother's life and allowed him to buy the needed medicine."
"Spasibo Oleg Olegovich," she whispered back to him. "Be sure not to pray too loudly. We would not want you taken away."
Oleg let out a belly laugh. "It would be done in my home as they closed down the Brodsky Synagogue long ago, and what few places to worship have been closed down as well as the Yeshivas. Many Jews are leaving for Moskva."
"I did not know this Oleg. What is the world coming to?"
"It is losing its mind I am afraid...now who is this handsome boy you have with you?" He reached into a glass jar and drew out a peppermint stick.
"This is my grandson Illya. He is very bright and I am quite proud of him."
"Here boy take this," Oleg held out the candy. "The last time I saw you, you were just a little baby in your mother's arms."
Illya looked to his Babushka for permission.
"Go ahead, it is all right. Thank you Oleg. Candy is such a dear treat for the boy."
"You like candy Illya?"
He nodded while sucking on the peppermint."My favorite is chocolate, but I have not had it in a long time."
The next thing he knew, Oleg Ulyanin was handing Illya a paper bag.
"Here that should do you for a while."
Illya peeked into the bag, finding it filled with dark chocolate drops.
"Spasibo sir!" Illya grinned.
"Oleg I'm sorry, I do not have money for such an indulgence," Marina said.
"Marina, did I ask for money. Please do not insult me? I have no grandchildren of my own, so let me share in treating yours."
"Your son Konstantin?" She asked, fearing he too had been conscripted into the army just like her friend Mrs. Greshchenkov's boy.
Oleg's face grew long. "He disappeared last winter. We do not know if he he was taken by the NKVD, or perished while checking his traps in the forest; there was no sign of him at all. The only thing odd was one of the hunter's cabins had burned down. I looked for his body, but there was nothing among the ashes."
Illya froze at hearing that story. He knew the truth of what happened to Konstantin Ulyanin. He was killed as he had turned into a bodark...a man who becomes a wolf. Konstantin attached Illya and his father in the hunter's cabin and Nicholaí Kuryakin had no choice but to kill the man-beast with a single silver bullet that he carried with him.
Nicholaí swore Illya to secrecy. The legend of the Bodark would remain just that, a story, though Illya knew it to be true.
"I went to school with Yuri Ulyanin," Illya spoke up, pretending not to know. "Is he your son too?"
"Yes he is, but he is not here anymore. He went to live with his grandparents in Stalino. With the threat of war, I thought it best. His mother is dead and I had to work many hours everyday. With the school being closed, it made sense. He should be safer with my in laws."
He leaned closer to her.
"I am closing up my business here and joining them before war breaks out. That crazy man Hitler will be the end of us, though I heard Stalin and he signed a treaty for him not to invade us. That still does not make me feel very good. Stalin is no angel, as we know, dare we forget the Holodomor? They called what he did as merely 'food difficulties' but he tried to wipe out the Ukrainian people!"
"Oleg, do not speak of these things, there are too many ears to listen. They take people away for saying such things." She went to bless herself but stopped. "We have barely recovered from the hunger. I remember like it was yesterday making the weed loaf that we barely survived on during the winter and through the spring; that and what animals my son could kill. Illya was born that year, and I often wonder if his mother's poor diet is the reason why he is so small."
"It could happen again, between the Germans and Russians they could try to wipe out the Ukraine again. Bad enough the farming collectives have all but shut down, with Stalin seizing most of the food yet again, this time to feed his army. That too is why I am leaving; there is a triple threat for me from the secret police, as well as the fact that I am a Jew and from Ukraine."
"That is smart decision to leave Oleg, but I will miss your shop when you are gone. I have a bad feeling everything will soon be in short supply."
"It is already happening I am afraid."
Oleg filled the cart with the last of his bags of flour, yeast, sugar, oats, millet and without being seen, he slipped the jar with the remaining peppermint sticks in as well. It was all more than Marina had planned to purchase, and she whispered her protest.
"Oleg I do not have enough money for this. It is all you have!"
"Stop protesting! Better I give it to you than sell it to these greedy bastards here who will only try to resell it at triple the price. Think of it as a parting gift from one old friend to another. I only hope it will help your family to survive what I fear is to come."
He only accepted the goat cheese as payment." Oleg reached out, taking Marina's hand and kissed it. "God bless you and may He keep all of us safe."
Oleg leaned in closer, whispering so the boy couldn't hear.
"I have heard rumors the Nazis are rounding up Jews everywhere and putting them in camps as forced labor, there are some terrible stories they are being murdered by the thousands. To tell you the truth when I get to Stalina, we are all leaving for England. My in laws are well off, and I have sold off all the valuables I own. We should be able live comfortably in London, God willing."
"No, those stories cannot be possible?" Marina said; horrified at what he suggested.
"I am not taking a chance and that is why I am leaving."
There was a moment of silence between them as not much else could be said.
"Safe journey," Marina wished him as she and Oleg hugged each other.
"Come Illya," she waved the boy to follow her with the cart. "We have but a few more things to get, that I had not planned upon. I am afraid we may not be able to get them next time we come here, better to get them now."
They covered their treasures with a woolen blanket, protecting it from prying eyes.
The last thing Marina needed was the lard, and since she still had money, the apples, eggs and the butter to trade; she found what she needed at little cost.
She found a bolt of heavy cloth to make some new clothing for the children as well as thread, and needles. She found lamp oil, matches and homemade candles that an old woman was selling for a pittance. Feeling sorry for her; Marina paid her the few rubles she asked, and gave her the eggs as well as the apples, though she kept a couple to feed Petya the goat.
Most of the booths were empty or had little to sell, and she considered herself lucky to find what she had, thanks to Oleg she had the means to purchase it all and still have a few coins left over.
Marina feared this might be the last trip to the city, and worried how she would tell Tanya and her son the bad news.
She traded the butter for tins of tea, several bars of real soap, and spices that could not be found in the woods. Her Rom upbringing had taught her to use many plants that grew in the forest which she gathered and dried; these would help with some medicinal needs as well as for cooking.
They sat under a nearby tree to eat their meager lunch and Marina took notice as something had caught her grandson's eye.
In one of the nearby booths there was a man selling puppets and Dymkovo toys, molded from a mixture of local potter's clay and river sand and could be used as whistles. After the toys were dried and tempered in a furnace, they were whitewashed with chalk diluted in milk, then painted with bright colors.
He was smiling as he watched the man whose booth it was made one of the marionettes prance around. Illya wasn't always quick to laugh but laugh he did at the puppet's antics.
"Illyusha stay here with the cart. I will be right back."
Marina approached the booth and after a few minutes she negotiated the price, purchasing a brightly painted rooster whistle for the boy, and a pink pig one for his sister. There was something else she bought, though costing very little, it was was a decadent indulgence, but one she couldn't resist.
She gave Illya his whistle, while tucking the other things wrapped in brown paper into the cart.
"Thank you Baba!"
"You are welcome child. I must say you are having quite the day. Candy and now a toy, then again you were good and deserved a special reward. You must remember to share your candy with your sister."
"Not Sasha and Misha?"
"No," she laughed," they are too little."
"You can have some Baba, Dimitry, Mama and Papa too."
"You are generous, just like your grandfather," she smiled.
He immediately began blowing into the whistle, creating little patterns and rhythms with the sound and that kept him amused as well as his grandmother for the long walk home.
Halfway home they stopped to drink what was left of the tea; though it was cold, it was still refreshing.
"Baba why did so many people look sad today? Mr. Ulyanin talked about bad things happening. What is Holodomor?"
"You should not have been listening in like that, as it was rude."
"Sorry Baba, but it seemed like it was something important and I wanted to know."
"Illya my sweet innocent grandson, better you not hear of such things just yet. Be a child for as long as you can, while your are still able.
Understand?"
"Yes Baba." He asked her no more questions and continued to play with his beautiful whistle.
They arrived at the dacha with their cart full of treasures late in the afternoon. And once Illya helped unload it, the first thing he did was give a peppermint stick to Katiya who squealed with delight, and she squealed again when her grandmother gave her the little pink pig whistle.
"Marina, you have so much; how did you do this?" Tanya asked.
She told her daughter in law of Oleg Ulyanin's generosity as well as his fears.
"Though it is a boon to us, I am frightened by what the future may bring. Hard times will be upon us again, perhaps worse than the great starvation."
"Do not say that Madame, do not wish it upon us," Tanya said.
"Daughter, I do not wish it; I fear it."
They spotted Illya peeking around the door frame, listening in as if he were a little spy.
"Boy what did I warn you about eavesdropping?" His grandmother shook her finger at him.
"Illya top misbehaving," his mother warned. "You need to go and put away that cart and feed Petya as well as the other animals. Make sure you cover the hay when you are done so it does not get damp, it looks like rain soon. Be sure the shed door is closed and locked; do not lose the key. If you could rake the hen house that would be good as tomorrow we clean it. Then we will need to set it aside for use in the garden."
"Tanya, I think the boy is tired. It has been a long day," Marina whispered.
"All right then, just lock up the cart and feed the animals. Tomorrow we take care of the chicken coop.'
"Da Mama," he breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his Babushka's intervention as he really was tired, and hungry.
"After supper tonight I have a surprise for you and your sister," Marina said.
"You do? What is it?"
"If I told you then it would not be a surprise would it? Now do as your mother said."
"Yes Mama, and thank you Baba," he raced out the back door to do his chores.
"Tanya, why are you angry with him, loading all that work on him after a long walk to and from town? He really is a good boy."
"I know Madame, it's just that...well I think I am pregnant again, but now I am frightened. How can I bring another child into this dangerous world, especially if such hard times are coming?"
Marina wrapped her arms around her petite daughter in law; slowly stroking her long blonde hair as the woman sobbed.
"It will be all right Tanechka. We are a strong family and will survive as we have always done. Are you sure you are with child?"
Tanya sniffled, wiping her tears away with her hands. Not completely but I think I am."
"Well until you are sure, we will say nothing to my son."
Tanya Kuryakin shook her head in agreement. Why needlessly worry her husband over another mouth to feed if she wasn't with child?"
When Illya was just done taking care of the cart and the animals, his mother called him to supper.
He ran inside, washing up without having to be told, and he even remembered to scrape his boots before coming inside.
They sat together at the kitchen table, folding their hands in prayer, giving thanks for their meal. This time it was pieces of chicken in a gravy made with cream, chicken broth and some spices. There were roasted carrots and potatoes with butter, and of course brown bread with butter as well to sop up the gravy. The hot tea with a bit of the sugar tasted particularly good tonight and that would help save on the jam.
It was a veritable feast in these hard times, but the Kuryakins were survivors and knew how to weather the storm. Though it seemed like a feast, the portions were small, as they were already carefully rationing their food.
The small garden in the back had supplied them with ample vegetables but now the harvest was done. Preserving some of them; they hid what wasn't eaten in their root cellar. That root cellar was what had saved them from starving when soldiers had once searched people's homes during the Holodomor; seizing their food and leaving them to starve.
It was just the four of them then, Marina, Dimitry, Nicholaí, and Tanya who was pregnant with Illya at the end of it all. The year young Illya was born millions of Ukrainians had been deported, shot or died of starvation.
Stalin's attempts to send all of Ukraine into oblivion failed. Yet now he was doing it again by shipping out so much food, leaving the farming collectives bled dry as he prepared for possible war.
After dinner, instead of Baba playing the concertina in the sitting room, she unwrapped her surprise for the children. It was a carved wooden marionette dressed in red. He had a long chin, a big nose and a pointy hat on his head.
"This is Petrushka," she told them, and she proceeded to perform a little play, changing her voice to be the puppet's.
Illya and his sister giggled and clapped their approval, until the show was over. They cried for more but their mother told them it was time for bed.
"Say goodnight to your Babushka and thank her for her surprise."
"Thank you Baba," the children said in unison. "Good night."
"I love you Baba," Illya whispered as he ran over to hug her, followed by his sister.
"Good night my sweet children. I love you with all my heart," Marina kissed them each on the head.
Tanya gathered Katiya in her arms with Illya in tow as she headed to the stairs when she heard a commotion in the kitchen. She quickly put down her daughter, and ran into the sitting room to get the Count's old sword, leaning in the corner.
"Tanya?" She heard her husband call her name.
There was a happy reunion with the entire family, though Nicholaí and Dimitry returned home empty handed. The hunting trip was a failure, and the two of them were hungry as horses, and damp as it had begun to sleet.
They ate their fill and after the children were taken up to bed, Nicholaí sat at the table, having a glass of hot tea to warm him.
"Hunting is getting worse I am afraid."
"Well we are better off than before you left thanks to your mother," Tanya said. She told him of the good fortune with the supplies. She also repeated the concerns of Oleg about the Nazis as well as the danger to the Jews."
"I have heard such rumors, that on top of the doings of the NKVD are indeed frightening," Nicholaí said."But let us not worry about all that for now. I need to go to bed and be with my beautiful wife."
"Missed me enh, Kuryakin?" She flirted, turning and shaking her bottom at him. "Well you need to wash up before you get near me because you stink."
"Such a welcome from my wife?" He moaned.
"Clean up and I will give you the welcome you want, husband."
That night Nicholaí made love to his wife, but the worries of what might be in store for his little family made it difficult for him to relax. He prayed the rumors weren't true and finally drifted off to a fitful sleep...
A/N: lots of cross references here to things mentioned in the later story 'Beginnings,' - the Yevbaz Bazaar and Mrs. Greshchenkov. Konstantin Ulyanin and the Bodark are mentioned in 'A Howling in the Night." The puppet in the story 'Petrushka,' as well as references from 'Zaporoche' about the Holodomor and a whole lot more.
The NKVD contained the regular, public police force of the USSR, including traffic police, firefighting, border guards and archives. It is best known for the activities of the Gulag and the Main Directorate for State Security, and was the predecessor of the KGB. The NKVD conducted mass extrajudicial executions, ran the Gulag system of forced labor camps and suppressed underground resistance, and was responsible for mass deportations of entire nationalities and Kulaks to unpopulated regions of the country. It was also tasked with protection of Soviet borders and espionage (which included political assassinations abroad), influencing foreign governments and enforcing Stalinist policy within communist movements in other countries.
The Holodomor was a man-made famine 1929-1933 with many Ukrainian farmers, known for their independence, refusing to join the collective farms, which were regarded as a return to the serfdom of earlier centuries.
Stalin introduced a policy of class warfare in the countryside in order to break down resistance to collectivization, and seizing all food in order to starve the people of the Ukraine, some of whom resorted to cannibalism. His secret police murdered thousands who resisted his decrees and deported half a million people to Siberia to starve there. His plan was one of genocide.