Some of the events in this chapter are directly inspired by: "Romanovs A Crowned Family". It is a very good movie, and one of the best portrayals of the real Romanovs. I haven´t found any real-life sources for some of the smaller events shown in the movie though, so I decided to use them here.
Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov.
I am glad my sisters will get to enjoy more time outside, but I don´t like Pavel. If he works here it is because the reds like him, which means he is up to no good. He probably also thinks it is a good thing that papa died.
"It would be better to bathe first," Tatiana replies.
I don't want to bathe first. I am hungry, but I keep quiet.
Masha carries me upstairs. She has carried me many times before, but now, every time she does it reminds me of papa, and how he will never carry me again. My eyes fill with tears, but I don´t want the sisters worried or sad again, so I try to hold them back.
"Masha help me bathe baby first," Tanya says to Maria, and I remember mama won´t be there to help this time, or ever.
I flinch when Tanya cleans my wounds, and I remember mama will never comfort me when I am in pain.
"Sorry, sunbeam," Tanechka sounds so much like mama. I want my mother back.
My parents´ dry blood, which has been stuck on my face for hours, falls on the tub water, and I can´t hold back the tears any longer.
Masha tries to comfort me, Tanya does too. They both look so distraught. Watching me cry has made them shed their own tears. I hate myself for making them sad again.
"They will always be in our hearts," Masha comforts me as she covers me in a towel. A sob escapes me, and she hands me some toilet paper so I can blow my nose.
Tatiana brushes my hair with her fingers and kisses my temple many times.
I love my sisters so much. They are so good and nice, and they never complain whenever they must take care of me. I wish I could do something as nice for them for a change, at least one time.
Tatiana brings my new clothes to the bathroom, and along with Maria, helps me dress up.
They were hurt in that cellar. They were being beaten and shot at and I was stuck in that chair. Something terrible also happened to them in the room next door, I know. "Where are the jewels?" I could hear those horrible men yelling at them. "Where are the jewels?!" My poor sisters were screaming most dreadfully and I wasn´t able to help them. Now that I think about it, I don´t think there is anything I have ever done for them.
I can't stop the urge to cling to Masha. We sob together again as she rocks me like a baby, even though I am almost as tall as Anastasia and will be fourteen in less than a month. I don't feel like a grown-up now though. Tanya kisses my temple before Maria leaves the bathroom with me, only to sit on the corridor outside, leaning on the wall.
I cry for our parents as she rocks me. She cries as well. I feel so sorry for them. Papa sounded so worried about us when he asked what was happening, and mama looked so shocked. Her dear beautiful face was then destroyed. It blew up. It disappeared. It was a nightmarish blend of brains and blood when I last saw her while I was lying on the ground. I bawl my eyes out and tremble as I remember.
I fear the hatred and indifference of those men. How we felt about anything they did to us didn´t matter to them. I had never experienced anything like that before. I don´t like it when people are angry at us and there is no apology nor favor I can give to appease them.
It pains me that they hated my father enough to kill him, I don´t understand how they could hate someone I loved so dearly.
I admit I may not be aware of every single thing my father ever did, or know everything that was happening all around the country while he was Tsar, but I still don´t understand what crimes Yurovsky was referring to when he read that paper…
He didn´t specify and I am angry about it. Maybe papa did, indeed, do something bad without meaning to, but I know for sure my parents would have never given any order that could have caused harm to anyone who hadn´t already done something really bad, like murder, at least not on purpose. I know this because of the way they raised me to be.
My parents were murdered. Those men didn´t know enough about them to execute them. Liars.
If papa were here he would have told me it was God´s will for him to die, but it is so hard to accept. I hope they are both happy where they are now and God doesn´t allow them to see how miserable I am.
I stay in Masha's arms for a long time. I wish I could stay here forever. Safe, warm and loved. I love her so, so much.
My sister starts to pull apart, but I keep clinging to her. I could be split apart from her forever at any second and without warning. I just want to keep hugging her. With mama and papa gone, it is the only thing that matters.
"It is fine, baby, I am not going anywhere", she soothes me. "Don't you want to see the rooms?"
I calm down.
Masha takes me to see the place where we will sleep. Olenka and Nastya seem to be there already with Ortipo. Tanya is still in the shower. I don´t know why she has taken so long.
I hate what I see when we get to the rooms. My four sisters will get to sleep in one as usual, while I will be all alone in another.
Maria lays me down in one of the four beds of the sisters' room and sits next to me. The walls of the room are light blue and have small white diamond decorations. The window frames are also white.
We are on the closest bed to the door. Olga is lying on the one furthest away from us. She is face-up, looking quite exhausted. Ortipo lies on top of her.
Anastasia, who was lying next to Olga on the same bed, stands up, smiles at us, and jumps into the nearest bed from hers as soon as Maria and I have sat down.
"Wow, Nastya!" Maria puts her hands in front of her. She seems startled by the jump and somewhat unsettled by our sister's cheerfulness. I am not.
I return our Shvibzik a half-smile.
Being alone didn't bother me before, I even took pride in being the only brother. My daily routine was different from that of my sisters. It made me feel special, it made the moments we did spend together feel even more special. It never, ever, made me feel this way.
I can't stand the thought of being alone in one room when papa and mama won't be there with me. Not even Nagorny will be there with me. What if I have nightmares?
"Will I have to sleep alone?" I can't help but complain. I avoid telling them about my fear of having nightmares.
"If you want, we can move my bed so I can sleep in your room," Anastasia suggests as she starts jumping on the bed.
I nod and smile gratefully, wiping away my tears. I suddenly feel excited about having a sleepover with her. Good memories of the two of us sleeping together near the Christmas tree during the holidays fill my mind and make me forget about the sadness for a while. She can always make me feel better, no matter what.
"I don't know about that, darling," Olga objects. "First we need to see how heavy the beds are, and if they can go through the door".
"We don't have to worry about that, Masha is as strong as our late grandfather, she will carry the bed all by herself," Anastasia teases. Masha directs a sad smile at her.
Just as suddenly as she jumped from one bed to the other, Anastasia hops out of the bed and starts exploring the rest of the room.
All right. Maybe she is acting a bit strange.
Oo
I don't need to ask Maria to hold me again. She does so herself. She even rocks me whenever she notices I am becoming upset. I love her. Only mama did that before. My sisters used to do it as well, but only when I was very, very little.
I lay my head on Maria's shoulder and listen as she talks with Shvibzik about the things the latter keeps finding in the room.
It is soothing to listen to the little pair chat the same way they have always done. They are no longer screaming in terror. I almost want to fall asleep.
After what feels like hours, Tanechka comes out of the bathroom and enters the room all dressed up in her new clothes. She carries in her arms the folded garments with which she arrived. Her hair is dripping.
I wonder how the sisters will brush their hair, which has already reached their shoulders. We were not even allowed to bring our hairbrushes.
"Who is next?" Tatiana asks. Maria stands up and leaves to take the bath, not before telling me she will be back soon. Feeling her leave is an almost painful sensation, but I try not to be whiny by making a huge fuss about it.
"How are we going to brush our hair?" Olga asks Tatiana, who shrugs.
"I know how," Anastasia responds, going through one of the open drawers of a small cabinet that stands in front of the beds. "There are all sorts of things here, including hairbrushes, cigarettes, matches, hand fans, and even card games. The owner of the house must have left this stuff here without the reds having time to take everything out".
Oo
After a while, Maria comes back from the bathroom carrying her old clothes. Olga stands up to go next.
"Masha, it is good you are finally here", Nastya says. "We need to have a serious conversation. Don´t share these cigarettes with any of the guards Masha, I know you. These are all for us".
I let out a chuckle, but Tatiana gives Anastasia a frighteningly stern look. Maria smiles, or at least attempts to unsurely.
I am surprised Anastasia remains this cheerful, but I would never complain, I love her too much. It is so easy for her to make me laugh even at times like these.
I have my sisters. And we are one by one washing off papa and mama's blood away. Papa and mama are in heaven, and they are taking care of us. Maybe that is the reason why this house is such a better place in comparison to the Ipatiev House. They were directly involved. Thank you papa and mama. I am good for now.
"Is there a Bible in there?" Olga inquires when she returns. Her face is no longer red, but all of our faces, including hers, are still swollen.
Anastasia searches for one in all of the drawers, making a mess out of them.
"No", she finally answers. "But look at this beautiful icon".
She shows us the icon of the Theotokos she just found and my sisters gasp at the beautiful sight. It portrays the Virgin carrying baby Jesus.
I am reminded of mama and how much she loved praying with us. We left all of our icons behind in Ekaterinburg. Sadness takes over me again, but I don´t feel the need to cry this time.
"I don´t know if we should use any of these objects without permission fist, you know how insufferable they can become over the most harmless of things," Tatiana observes as she leaves Ortipo on the floor. "You know what? I am going to go ask Mr. Antonovich," she then turns towards the door. "I am also going to ask him if he will allow us to go to church or at least let a priest come to us like they did back in Ekaterinburg, does anyone have any other requests?"
"Ask him about the war," Olga suggests. "Could he also provide us with a Bible and some newspapers?"
"Good ideas," Tatiana replies, and she walks downstairs.
"Ask him to have the soldiers move one of the beds into Alyosha's room!" Anastasia yells just before Tatiana is out of sight.
"But don´t play rough with him, Shvibzik!" Tatiana yells back.
Oo
We end up being allowed to use the objects because the owner of the house has passed away. Tatiana recounts her conversation with the commander.
"As long as you don't use them as weapons," Pavel said. "I don't have any Bibles, but I will see if any of the soldiers has one he doesn't use".
How silly, how could we use hairbrushes, fans, or icons as weapons?
Pavel said he would ask about letting us go to church or for a priest to come. He also said he wasn't allowed to give us newspapers, but that he would keep us informed on the war. I really hope our allies defeat the Germans, otherwise, poor Russia will lose so much of her territory!
After we have all taken a bath, the sisters start talking as they brush each other's hair. We all continue crying. Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia are in pain. Their bruises hurt. Maria can't get the instant papa died out of her head. Nastya is still scared of the guards. Tanya nods as she cries. Olga just cries.
I am finally made aware of what happened in the room next door. They start talking about it before any of them can remember I am right there, listening as they speak. Maria suggests changing the subject when Tatiana makes them aware of my presence, but I beg them not to.
"I was stripped by strangers as well you know", I remind them. "Strangers who hated me, who hated us all, but they were just mean, you did nothing wrong."
"Oh, darling!" Olga cries.
"I know it was worse for you because you are ladies, and they… touched you", I quickly assure them, "but… I know why you are upset, it was very embarrassing and scary for me as well, you don't have to hide that, I want to comfort you too."
The four of them pull me into a group hug. They promise not to hide anything from me. I try to comfort them as we weep and grieve together.
I cry because I fail to do so. I only manage to distress them further.
Oo
We finally have breakfast in the dining room, but it is late. So late that it isn't really a breakfast or even a lunch anymore. It is also the dullest meal I have ever had. No one talks. The relatively cheerful mood earlier disappeared when we remembered the cellar. Everyone is sad again.
Maria weeps silently. Anastasia has brought a fan from the room for some reason. She uses it to cool the soup. She also fidgets the food with her fork. I would let out a fake chuckle for her sake if she didn't look so miserable. Tatiana shakes her head as she watches.
I eat because I am hungry, but this is the worst food we have ever had, and I know it is not the food that is different.
From the corner of my eye, I see three soldiers going upstairs. Tanya, who is sitting next to me, whispers in my ear that they are moving the bed, which makes me feel a bit better.
Olga, who sits on the other side, helps me eat. I have trouble doing so alone due to the wounds in my hands.
Tatiana feeds Ortipo under the table, which reminds me that my dog Joy didn't come with us. I feel sad. Jimmy was stabbed, I really hope the guards didn't kill Joy.
Two of the guards watch us eat as if we were going to escape whilst doing it. Like many times before, their eyes focus almost exclusively on my sisters. The guard who helped us out of the carriage stares only at Maria. He also offered to carry me, but Mashka refused, something I am grateful for. I don't want to be carried by mean strangers ever again. After I get better, I hope I will never have to be carried at all.
I think that guard likes Maria. He should have been more polite to her then. Mama says… said ladies like men who are gentlemen.
But the one who stares at all of them the most is a man with a big and wide head, black hair, and a mustache. Up and down. Down up again. He frowns at them. Pure contempt in his dark brown eyes. He doesn't stop staring.
I become worried, is he angry at them? If so, it's not fair! They haven't done anything and yet he is already angry! The soldiers who guard us can be very mean to us sometimes for no reason. Many of them were so mean and disrespectful to my poor papa… and one time, a guard yelled at me because I peeked while they were taking a photograph in a room. I am ashamed to say I cried and ran to mama. Of course that is nothing compared to what they did to our parents and friends… and it was so mean of them to kill Jimmy. He was just an animal, how can a little dog be a threat to the Bolsheviks?
I think about my own dog again.
"Do you think they will kill Joy?" I ask my sisters, feeling a bit self-conscious about being the first to talk out loud.
"Maybe someone found it and is taking care of him, darling, don't lose hope," Maria says.
"If you want, we can pray about it later," Tatiana adds.
Anastasia's head is up immediately. She has stopped fidgeting with her food and has a scowl on her face.
"They killed all of our servants, who were people like us, not dogs," she snaps. "They bayoneted Jimmy, and the only reason they didn't stab Ortipo is because Tatiana, and then Olga, were holding him. They killed papa and mama, Alexei! What the hell makes you think they would spare Joy? Do you think those monsters grew consciences just as we were leaving?"
The implication that I care more for Joy than I did for our parents and friends is hurtful, and I lose all the hope I had left to see my dog again. I lower my head and my eyes fill with tears.
"Don't be so cruel Nastya!" Olga scolds her.
"It is just the truth!" Anastasia defends herself by yelling. "I didn't mean to be cruel!"
"What is wrong with you, Anastasia?" Tatiana asks. "First you act in a completely inappropriate manner, without any sort of consideration or respect towards your mourning siblings or our dead parents and servants, and then you make everyone more miserable with your cruel comments."
"Leave me alone!" She cries. "I do whatever I want and I don't care what happened!"
Before either Olga or Tatiana is able to argue back, Anastasia bursts into tears and bangs her head on the table twice.
I panic for a second. What if she hurt herself? And why is poor Nastya acting like this?
After a few silent seconds during which only Anastasia's sobs can be heard, Tatiana takes action and stands up. She makes sure our sister didn't injure her forehead before giving her a long hug from behind. Maria stands up and does the same. Olga looks down and sighs.
Tears roll down from my eyes. I hate seeing my sister like that, and I fear she is going to be mad at me for a long time.
I am ashamed of what I said. I think she is right… but I am also mad at her for pointing it out and being angry with me when it is the reds who have ruined everything! They take our things, our baptism crosses, they give half of Russia to the Germans, they kill our dear friends, our beloved parents and even our dogs because why not that as well? They take everything! And Anastasia is mad at me! It is not fair!
I sob. I hate everything and everyone right now.
Olga takes one of my hands with both hers while giving me a sad smile. Tatiana tries to encourage Anastasia to eat, as we soon realize she hasn't actually been doing so. Anastasia can't eat though. She has an upset stomach.
I remember we are being watched, so I search for the guards. The one who helped us out of the carriage is uncomfortably looking away. The one with the mean face is struggling not to laugh.
My sisters and I finish the meal in tears. Only Olga refuses to cry.
Oo
When all of us except for Anastasia are done, the maid, who is a very old woman, starts to pick up our plates.
"Oh no, let us do that," my sister Olga offers. She then picks up both her plate and mine. My other sisters follow suit, picking each their own. I wish my knee had healed enough to do the same. I stay at the table, drinking water.
The maid seems surprised but grateful.
"How nice of you," I hear her say from the kitchen, where my sisters are helping her wash the dishes. "I didn´t know the Grand Duchesses were such humble and helpful girls, but you really don't have to do this, dears, especially not if you are grieving, I can see your poor little tired and swollen eyes, please rest."
Her words change my mood. I wipe my own tears and beam with pride. I love it when other people are nice to my sisters and see how good they are. I am still a bit mad at Anastasia though.
"Don't worry about it", Tatiana calms her. "It is much better to distract ourselves by being useful, can I ask your name?"
"Galina", the maid answers, "Galina Lebedeva."
"Do you have any children?" Mashka continues.
"I had a daughter, but she died giving birth to one of my four grandsons, two of whom died in the war," Galina explains.
"I am so sorry to hear that," this time it is Olga talking.
"One of my grandsons works here, his name is Oleg," the old woman mentions.
"Really?" Anastasia asks.
"Yes!" Galina exclaims. "Oleg! Oleg!" She calls for her grandson.
After a few seconds, the guard who had helped us out of the carriage bolts through the dining room and gets to the kitchen.
"What is it, grandma?" He grunts. "You know I am at work, I can't come any time you please". It is funny that he said that, because he came really fast.
"Look, he is my grandson, he is 25 years old", Galina raves to my sisters, ignoring her grandson's tone of voice and pointing at Oleg with pride. "He is an engineer and worked for a few months in the trans-Siberian railway". I catch Oleg rolling his eyes at his grandmother, how rude! "He was also granted a St. George cross, first class!" Galina keeps raving, putting special emphasis on the last two words. "He gave the medal to me, I have it in my room, and I can show it to you".
"Those petty things are not important now," Oleg states.
He probably means it is against the revolution to take pride in your achievements, how stupid. The Bolsheviks also forced me and papa to take off our epaulets. Rank is apparently against the revolution because everyone has to be the same, but papa always said that an army cannot function without rank and discipline. I think the Bolsheviks also know that, because a commander is always bossing the others around, and the commanders receive orders from other places. The new government doesn't really believe what they claim to believe.
I am impressed by Oleg's first class St. George cross, even if he thinks medals are petty. I hope someday he will tell us about how he got it, what regiment he was from, and where he fought. I love listening to war stories. I received a St. George cross as well, but a fourth class, for visiting our poor wounded soldiers in a place that was located near the front. We could even hear the firing from there! It was quite scary, but must be nothing compared to actually surviving a battle. I remember my father was there. He helped me not to be scared. My eyes fill with tears.
"Look at those pretty girls Oleg, how nice they are, you should marry one of them instead of going with your friends to those places," Galina nags.
I suddenly forget I was sad, spit the water I have in my mouth and start laughing as the tears roll down. I can hear Anastasia and Masha laughing too. They all must be blushing right now.
"They are called brothels grandma," Oleg corrects her loudly, as if wanting everyone around to listen. From my seat in the dining room, I manage to get a glimpse of Tatiana covering Nastya's ears before crossing herself. "And the women there are just as nice, they were simply not as… lucky".
He stares at my sisters before saying that last word. Lucky? He doesn't even know us! Does he know what we have been through? I remember the reason I was sad and immediately start crying again.
Oleg leaves the kitchen and then storms out of the house with an angry expression. The big pair comes back to sit with me. Tatiana starts stroking my back when she sees me crying. I want my parents back. I am disappointed as well. Oleg seems like a mean guy who will not tell me war stories any time soon.
"Forgive him girls", Galina apologizes, walking out of the kitchen with the little pair. "He just hasn't been the same ever since his brothers died… he is usually very nice…" Olga and Tatiana smile at her.
"Don't worry about it, darling," Mashka says.
"We have dealt with way worse," Anastasia assures her, trying to make Galina feel better, but the poor old woman doesn't take that as a compliment and lowers her head in shame.
I quickly wipe my tears. I hope she doesn't think we hate her grandson.
"He must have been very brave to be granted that medal," I reassure her, "and a kind woman like you could have only raised a very good man."
Galina smiles at me.
"You are also very nice," she moves closer and pats me in the head.
"Our brother has a golden heart," Olga says, smiling at me and then at Galina.
We six talk a lot after that, mostly about what happened to us and our parents earlier, although the sisters omit what those ungentlemanly men forced them to do. We cry again, but my sisters seem embarrassed about crying in front of a stranger, just like they are embarrassed about earlier, so they hide their tears. I follow suit and hide my own as well.
"What those men did is unforgivable!" Galina exclaims when my sisters are done talking. Galina even gives us her condolences for the deaths of our parents. The first person to do that. It makes me happy because it means Galina isn't glad about papa and mama's deaths. I really like Galina.
The conversation turns to something a bit more cheerful after a while, the house and how pretty it is. This puts us all in a better mood, and when I remember Galina's short exchange with her grandson, I ask about the meaning of the word "brothel". I have heard soldiers talking about them. I know women live in them and kiss the soldiers. It is so funny.
"That is what I was wondering," Anastasia adds in a cheeky tone that makes me think she may know more than I do.
"You are both too young to know about those things," Tanya immediately scolds us.
"Galina, we can also help you with the laundry," Maria changes the subject quickly.
While the sisters talk with Galina about house chores, I notice some of the guards are putting a white curtain up in the living room. A chair stands in front of it.
Commander Pavel enters the dining room and informs us they are going to take pictures of us.
My heart skips a beat and my eyes water. I clench my fists. Commander Yurovsky lied to us. He said they were only going to take pictures of us, and then killed mama and papa. I start sweating. They were a bunch of liars. Evil liars.
Oo
Commander Pavel is, so far, not a liar.
They take front and profile pictures of my sisters and me. A fat photographer and the angry guard with the big wide head are left in charge of us. Olga and Tatiana ask lots of questions about the purpose of the pictures, but none of them are answered. Once my two pictures are taken, I sit on the red couch at the back of the large living room next to my sisters.
When Anastasia's turn comes in the chair, she places the open hand fan she had brought downstairs just over her chin while biting her cheeks to make her mouth appear like that of a fish. She does this quickly, as a surprise, just as the picture is taken. The photographer is startled.
I chuckle. My other sisters smile tentatively. Anastasia smirks and turns her eyes towards us. She is clearly proud of herself. I don't think I can be mad at her for too long.
"I am going to have to take another one", the photographer tells the guard, who frowns at us for enjoying the joke and then gives Anastasia a death stare.
"You doll!" The man barks at her. "I will put you in cold storage for this fun, stupid!"
Anastasia is no longer smiling. She looks back at the man as if she were about to cry. My other sisters seem concerned. I hate to watch my sister being treated this way, how can he be so mean? My family has been treated so unfairly this past year.
I know I can't do much, but I can show her how much I love her and have her back. Maybe this guard is not evil like Ermakov. Maybe he is just having a bad time like Oleg. Maybe he will see that we don't like his treatment and that we are willing to speak up about it out loud. Maybe that will make him feel bad about his behavior. Sometimes that happened to me when I was little and naughty. Papa would always make me see how my actions affected others.
I stand up, first only on my good leg. Then I take two steps towards the angry guard. It hurts, but I have to.
"Please don't yell at my sister, sir," I beg. I might not be big and strong, or even feel like a grown-up, but I am the man of the house now. I have to take care of my sisters. I failed before, but I have to try now.
"What?" He seems puzzled and angry at the same time, as if he didn't think I would dare ask anything of him. Seems like he is not one to feel remorse easily. "What? What?" He repeats in a mocking tone, one that makes me feel embarrassed. He is also walking towards me. Now I am frightened as well.
He is way taller.
He is walking towards me like that man did in the cellar. He is walking towards me and he is way taller. I have the urge to run towards mama. I don't know what to say now, I thought he would understand. Maybe the message wasn't clear enough.
"Alyosha come back here," Tanya begs me. I know she is concerned, and I really want to run to her, but doing so would only make me feel even more embarrassed. It wouldn't make Anastasia feel any better either. She told us she was scared. If this man apologizes, she won't be scared anymore.
"Don't yell at my sister," I speak with a firm tone of voice this time, similar to the one my father used whenever he talked to his ministers. "You have frightened her and said some truly unkind things to her. Give her your apologies please, and we won't hold a grudge against you".
"Shut up child," he slowly walks closer, his index finger pointed in my direction, "and don't poke your nose!"
He pushes me down as he yells that last sentence. I fall to the floor, landing on my left hand. The sisters get up from their seats and start fussing over me.
"Alyosha!" Maria cries out.
"Alyosha! Did it hurt?" Anastasia yells. Her concern makes me feel relieved for an instant. At least she is no longer mad.
"Did you hurt yourself?" Olga asks. They all start trying to check me up.
"On what hand did you land?!" Tatiana follows. "Did you hit yourself anywhere else?"
"No, not at all," I answer, secretly embarrassed by the situation and probably blushing as well. I straighten up and try to sound as calm and polite as possible: "Don´t worry, let me go".
Instead of letting me go, Masha and Tatiana help me stand up. I choke back tears, suddenly self-conscious about my pathetic attempts at chivalry. I am just a cripple to that guard, even to my sisters.
I want to sink down into the earth, or do something. It cannot end this way.
I limp back towards the man, and the sisters follow me closely behind.
It is painful to stand straight with the stitches on my stomach, and to use the leg with the swollen knee is even more so. I am so scared of him, he even looks like Ermakov, and what if he does something worse? I am being so stupid… but my wounded pride doesn't allow me to lay the situation to rest.
"Sir," I begin again, not even knowing what I am about to say… what am I doing?
"What?!" He yells. I don't know the answer myself, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind:
"I challenge you to a duel."
He doesn't like jokes. What I said will most definitely annoy him. That is enough for now.
"You? Me?" He asks, completely bewildered.
"I. You," I respond with a straight face I work hard to keep.
"I will strangle you, little shit!" He growls while grabbing me from the collar of my shirt, effortlessly lifting me up and swinging me back and forward. Tatiana and Anastasia, still behind me, almost immediately start hitting the man in the head with the palms of their hands. Nastya uses the fan to hit him when that doesn't work.
"Soldier Tabakov, attention!" Commander Pavel Antonovich shouts as he enters the living room from the door that leads to the basement. Tabakov drops me. "To my office, immediately!" The soldier Tabakov obeys and walks away, not without cussing at us before doing so.
"Sorry," Pavel says. He only closes the door once the guard has walked through it. Masha helps me sit back on the couch.
I look back at Anastasia. She has burst into tears and is now running towards the stairs.
"Girl!" The photographer yells, and Anastasia turns around. "I still need to take your pictures". My sister comes back, wipes away her tears, and lets the photographer do so quickly.
We stay silent as we wait for the man to pick up his equipment and leave.
"Are you all right Shvibzik?" Maria approaches our sister, who remains sitting on the chair even after the photographer has left. Tanya and Olenka kneel next to Anastasia and start caressing her hair.
Nastya nods, but as she does, starts crying again. Her cries turn into sobs. Breathing soon becomes hard for her.
I feel so sorry for my dear Shvibzik, was she really so scared? I know she confessed to being scared, but she has always been so fearless. She is scared like she said she was and yet acts as if she weren't most of the time, which confuses me I guess.
If I had stayed silent maybe Tabakov would have simply insulted her and then left her alone. Why does my very existence make everything worse all the time? I can't do anything for anyone, all is done for me.
"I am sorry," I apologize.
"For what?" Anastasia asks, sobbing.
"For causing trouble," I mutter, lowering my head.
"That was not your fault, it was that fool's fault for getting angry over nothing, the duel thing was funny, you know?" She tells me, smiling between tears. I am glad she thought I was funny. I don't think that was one of my best jokes, and I am not even that bad at them. "I just miss papa and mama. That is all".
"We all do," Maria tears up as well.
"These sorts of things didn't happen when they were around", Olga observes, with tears in her eyes herself. "Although they were prisoners, even the most hostile guards knew our parents would always do whatever it took to protect us. Now we are all alone, orphans, with no one to care for us".
Listening to Olga talk like that alarms me. I thought the only bad part of it all was going to be living without our parents. Are the guards only going to become meaner?
"But they don't want us dead, they didn't kill us, they need us for a reason, right?" Masha points out.
The little pair looks terrified. Fear must be written in my face as well, because Tatiana is staring at me with visible concern. She tries to soften the tension:
"Don't worry darlings, our relatives overseas will probably intercede to help us as soon as they find out about what they did to mama and papa".
"I just hope it is not our German relatives", Olga puts emphasis on the word ´German´.
"Pavel also scolded him, so they are not allowed to harm us," Anastasia adds.
None of the guards had ever harmed us before. They were all a bunch of liars pretending not to hate us, acting all normal and then shooting at us without question when someone asked them to. I hate them, but then I remember papa wouldn't have wanted me to hate them, so I try to ignore those feelings.
I don't know why I am so scared of the man in the cellar. He only wanted to kill me. I have always known I might die young. I had approached death before. Why is it then that nothing ever scared me as much as that man did? I am terrified of him. I am terrified there may be more men like him lurking around. Maybe it is because he reminded me that horrible things beyond my imagination can happen. That they can happen to me. Some of the soldiers I visited with papa feared captivity more than death for that reason.
We don't talk about the future anymore, just about our daily routine and what it should be here. Well, my sisters talk about that. I only listen. I am yet again scared about what they might do to us here.
Oo
Back upstairs, Olga, Maria, and Tatiana tidy up the cabinet in their room while Nastya and I get to know ours.
Anastasia spent some time sobbing while ranting to me about all of those "red pigs" at the same time. I listened to her, sobbing as well, nodding pathetically at everything she said, and chuckling in tears at times.
I think it helped. She seems a bit more like herself and is back to her normal mood, which I must admit is somewhat unsettling in this situation. Now she is exploring the things that the owner of the house left in the cabinet of this room.
I think her rants helped me as well. Our tears have temporarily subsided, I wonder for how long, but our eyes are still red and puffy, just like they have been all day long.
I am sitting on one of our two beds, which is close to the open window, so I distract myself from the scary memories that creep into my mind every now and then by looking at the guards down in the yard. Sometimes that doesn't help. Sometimes seeing the guards and thinking of what they would be willing to do is what scares me. Stabbing us, beating us, shooting at us... sometimes one of them looks up and I get so scared I start to tremble, but whenever she finds something interesting, Anastasia tells me. That always makes me forget about the fear and even smile sometimes.
"Look! A slingshot!" She exclaims, showing it to me. "Those idiots should really have searched the house better before letting us in. Now we really have a weapon, muah, ha, ha!"
We both laugh. She looks so red as she does.
"We should try to use it on Tabakov!" Anastasia suggests. "He is patrolling in the yard just now, right?"
I open my eyes, horrified. He would hurt us. He would kill us.
"But what if they do something to us?" I protest. Anastasia seems to think about it for a while.
"You are right," she admits. "But it would have been so much fun, maybe someday we can use it on the sisters with something soft."
"Yes! Like food!" I agree. "But they will be so mad!" We laugh again.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Nastya asks quietly, and I nod. "But don't tell anyone".
Anastasia then pulls out three diamonds from her shoes. One is almost as big as a palm. The other two are smaller. My eyes open wide again.
"I thought they had stolen all of them!" I exclaim, a little too loudly.
"Shh, shh!" She puts a finger on her lips. "I put them all in my mouth while the murderous pigs were distracted saying nasty things to us and looking at our bosoms instead of our faces".
"But how?" I ask, wondering what is so special about bosoms to make the soldiers forget about the jewels.
"I did it by separating some of the jewels from the clothes while we were undressing. We were wailing so loudly they didn't hear the fabric ripping. I put them in my mouth by pretending to cover my face only to cry. Then I put them in my shoes while we were traveling in the truck to the train station. It was so dark I could do so without anyone noticing".
I feel so proud of her, she is so smart!
"But why didn't you tell the sisters?" I ask.
"I am going to tell them. I am just waiting for the right moment to take them out, you know, when we are actually in the mood for it, and there are also no guards around. I am just telling you first."
I feel so much affection for my Shvibzik. This feels like an achievement. I never thought any of the sisters would tell me anything first. They usually talk the important stuff amongst themselves before I find out about anything. I am like their pet, a treasured pet, but still a pet.
"You are so smart Nastya! Wouldn't it be fun to use one of the diamonds as a projectile for the slingshot?" I joke.
"It would be a shame to waste a diamond on the slingshot", she replies, putting the diamonds back inside her shoes and then opening the first drawer. "If we do it, we should use one of these old empty lipstick tubes, they are as hard as rocks".
"We should do it!" I yell, forgetting all my reservations. It is exhilarating, the thought of doing that to a red soldier. I just wish it were Yurovsky instead. Anastasia smiles. I don't feel any sadness for an instant.
"We should! It will be fun! It is unlikely we will hit the target anyway!" She exclaims.
There is something I do feel. It is so strong as well… I am just scared of admitting it.
Anastasia positions the small tube on the back of the slingshot and smirks at me. I pick out the same thirst for revenge in her eyes and smirk back, feeling a lot less guilty.
She gets closer to the window and searches for Tabakov. I look down as well. Anastasia aims.
"Pow!" She jests, giving a little jump after letting go of the projectile. We both look down.
There is no dramatic reaction from any of the guards.
"Seems like I missed," Nastasia remarks, sounding a bit disappointed.
"Sure you did. You got Tabakov on the forehead!" I exclaim. The mean soldier is holding it in his hands. I squeal with joy.
"Let me shoot!" I cry. "Let me shoot now!"
But Anastasia doesn't give me the slingshot. She hides behind the curtain of the window and from there looks down at the guard. She seems scared.
I should definitely be scared as well. This is worse than just annoying him, what is he going to do to us now?
We were reckless. Reckless and stupid. We have been acting recklessly all day long.
My heart is beating so fast. I don't know what to do. I want my parents back.
"Close the windows and the curtains," I tell her, she does. "Sit here, let's pretend we were talking." She sits down on the chair in front of my bed.
I forget to tell her to get rid of the slingshot. She quickly realizes her mistake and nervously lays it on top of the cabinet before sitting back down, grabbing an empty diary in the process. Anastasia pretends to read the blank pages of the notebook with feigned naturality.
We stand up when Commander Antonovich, Tabakov, and Tatiana enter the room. Anastasia closes the diary.
Tabakov has a wet piece of cloth tightly pressed against his forehead. There is blood pouring out of his wound and he seems to be in pain. That must hurt a lot. I can almost imagine the blow… and I feel terrible now.
If papa were here, he would have scolded me. Knowing what papa would think makes me feel sad and guilty. I wish he were here. He would have stopped me.
Tatiana looks worried about us being in trouble.
"Alexei Nikolaevich," the commander begins, speaking calmly, "soldier Tabakov asserts that there was a shot made from your window three minutes ago, who shot?"
My sister and I stare at each other. She is terrified.
"I did," I lie before she can answer. She made the shot, but I encouraged her to do it and put the idea back into her head. I was just thinking of having fun yet again, why am I like this?
For the first time since we arrived, Commander Antonovich looks angry. My heart skips a beat. Now he will reveal how much he truly hates us.
"Where is the weapon?" Antonovich asks. I limp closer to him in order to retrieve the slingshot from the cabinet.
"Here it is," I give it to him. My voice almost breaks. Antonovich smiles at me and then at Tabakov, who doesn't smile back.
"Look, Paul," Antonovich says to Tabakov, still smiling, "it is just a children's toy". Antonovich turns back to me, and says: "Alexei Nikolaevich, I have to confiscate this slingshot."
"It is in your power," I shrug, pretending not to care. "Take it". Then I apologize to Paul: "Soldier, please forgive me," to my great embarrassment, my voice does break now. "It is my fault, I am very sorry."
Paul Tabakov's expression remains cold. My eyes fill with tears, so I look down to avoid meeting his gaze.
"I can ask my older sisters to wash the wound and put a bandage on it," Anastasia adds.
"What else?!" Paul shouts.
"Really, I can do it, I am sorry for what they did, they were just playing," Tatiana says.
"Besides the wound is superficial, it is not that bad," Anastasia argues.
"What if you had hit my eye?!" Tabakov yells at her again.
"Then it would be a bad one," Anastasia admits.
"Thanks!" He hoots. "May I leave?" He asks the commander, who nods. Paul leaves the room, and the rest of us stay silent.
"Ay, ay, ay, Alexei Nikolaevich", Antonovich shakes his head disapprovingly. Thinking of how much I want papa back is about to make me cry again.
"My fault", I say without looking him in the eye. "I am sorry". I want mama back as well.