July 18, 1918.
Tatiana Nikolaevna Romanova.
"Mama! Papa!" Masha yells in her sleep. I open my eyes and sit up on the bed.
Olga is getting up as well. I leave the bed and open the curtains. It is still dark.
"What is it?" I ask Maria, returning to the bed where we have slept. "Did you have a nightmare?"
She flinches when I touch her forehead. It is full of sweat. Maria starts squirming in her bed, covering her face with her forearms as she screams.
"It was just a dream," Olga soothes Maria while caressing her hair. "You are safe, it is all right darling, mama and papa are watching over us from heaven, you are good." Very gradually, Maria´s struggle ends.
I remember our days working as nurses. They seem so far away now. Even though I was better with the technical skills, keeping my stomach full, and the actual nursing, Olga had a special touch when it came to comforting soldiers who were in pain.
My poor sister finally opens her eyes. She is crying and struggling to breathe, but seems less scared than before.
"Are you all right?" I ask, she nods and closes her eyes for a second. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Maria straightens up and sits on her bed.
"It was just… all that happened, in the basement," Masha sobs, pausing often to take deep breaths, "but this time, they stabbed me, like Anna, with the bayonets… oh God, it was so painful! It was so painful! It all felt so real!"
I hear someone knocking at the door and accidentally let out a short shriek before jumping. Yesterday, I remember. We were awakened at midnight.
After I have gathered up the courage to do so, I take a few deep breaths and walk to answer the door.
I exhale. It is Anastasia, she seems nervous.
"What is wrong, darling?" I ask her.
"It is Alexei, he had a nightmare," she answers.
"Can you help me by comforting him yourself? Maria also had a nightmare."
"He doesn´t let me go anywhere near him, he asked specifically for you, he sounds very upset".
"All right, can you go talk to Maria for me in the meantime?"
She nods and enters the room before I leave to see what is wrong with Alexei.
He is sitting on the bed, crying. I turn on the lights too see better, which startles him. The room is filled with card and board games he has played tonight with Anastasia.
"What is it sunbeam?" I ask him, getting closer to the bed. "Did you have a nightmare? You can tell me", I encourage him, but he just keeps sobbing.
I intend to sit next to him, but then I feel the smell. He lowers his head in shame when he realizes I have noticed, looking much younger than his age at that moment. Poor thing, he must be so embarrassed. That nightmare must have scared him a lot. He was three years old the last time he wet the bed.
He probably feared Anastasia would tease him.
"Don´t worry," I say, as carefully as possible. "The commander told me where his room was just in case, so I will ask him to let me grab your other clothes, they must be dry already. If he doesn´t have any extra sheets, you can sleep in my bed. The important thing now is that you get a quick bath, and you can´t stay in those wet clothes."
"But where will you sleep?" He asks.
"With Olga, don´t worry about that."
"But I don´t want you to wake the commander! What if he becomes angry at you?" Poor darling, thinking about that.
"He won't", I calm him. "This is part of his job".
Oo
Commander Antonovich is indeed a bit grumpy when I knock on his bedroom door and wake him up, but doesn´t complain as he answers in his blue pajamas. The hardest part is having to explain the reason why I need the sheets and the clothes for my brother. At first he thinks a counterrevolutionary group has come to take him and starts grunting to me in an aggressive manner. It is probably the lateness of the hour that makes him come up with such wild ideas. I only manage to convince him otherwise by telling him the truth.
"Please don´t mention this to my brother or any of the other guards, he would be mortified," I implore the commander.
"Don´t worry", he reassures me. "I will not mention this again. I remember the same thing happening to my daughter after my wife died in a trolley car accident. My little girl barely made it out there alive. She was ten and was gravely injured, but fortunately recovered. She is around your age now, actually."
"Thank you, commander, and I am sorry for your loss," I say.
By the time I am back upstairs with the clothes and the sheets, the little pair has fallen asleep in Maria´s bed, cuddling each other. Olga is sleeping in hers.
I carry my brother to the bathroom, which is a lot harder for me to do that than it is for Masha. He is only slightly shorter than Anastasia, and I can't carry her anymore.
He bathes all by himself while I wash his dirty clothes in the sink.
"Does Anastasia know?" He asks shyly as I put the shirt over his head.
"No darling, she doesn´t suspect a thing", I reply, and he sighs a breath of relief. "But you must know she would never tease you about something that is upsetting to you." He nods unsurely.
"She wouldn´t", I insist. "But I still would never tell her, or anyone, if you don´t want to".
My sister has a heart of gold, her antics usually cheer everyone up. She doesn´t act the way she does for the sole purpose of making people feel miserable.
"My left arm hurts," he complains after I have finished helping him dress.
"Is that the arm you landed on when the brute pushed you?" I ask, and he nods. "I am going to take you to Anastasia's bed while I change the sheets, and then I am going to sit with you and massage your arm until it feels better, all right?"
My brother nods.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, dear", I assure him. "You were just scared. It can happen to anyone. Even some of the wounded in our hospital confessed to it, did you know?" It happened to me, I am too much of a coward to utter out loud.
He weeps silently, lying in Nastya´s bed as I work on his. Once I have finished changing the sheets, he speaks again:
"Pushing the bayonet away also hurt", he pants, "falling off, the chair... also."
"I know," I sympathize. "That man, Ermakov, is a beast".
His lip starts trembling as soon as I mention his name. He breathes deeply two times in an attempt to control himself before a sob finally escapes his throat.
"Hey, it is alright," I sit by his side and soothe him by holding his hand. "Is that what your nightmare was about?"
He nods, wiping away his tears uselessly, as they are quickly replaced.
"He… he, he yelled".
"He yelled at you while he was trying to stab you?" I ask him. He shakes his head.
"Yelled, he had shot, Nagorny, while trying, to stab me!" He finishes amidst pauses to breathe, necessary due to the incessant sobbing. He cries out in fear the word ´stab´.
I don´t know what to say. I don´t even know if I am surprised considering how they murdered our friends along with our parents. My own tears start falling.
How can they be so cruel to people whose only crimes are friendship and loyalty? I realize all our friends still in custody are also in danger, maybe even our friends in the hospitals, our former servants, all the friends we have ever gone to parties with, the ones that used to visit us… our acquaintances? I don´t know what constitutes a good enough reason to deserve death for these people.
"I am sorry, and I don´t want to give you false hopes, but it is possible he was only claiming that to hurt you and brag". I know it isn´t true, but I say so anyway.
"My fault," He mutters.
"What? No! Why?!" I exclaim.
"If, I weren´t, so, so sick, all the time, I wouldn´t… I would, not, have needed him, still, and they wouldn´t, have, killed him," he laments, pausing after almost every single new word he utters. He can barely talk and looks exhausted once he is done. He rubs his red eyes and keeps sobbing.
He is breaking my heart with those words.
"That is nonsense!" I exclaim, taking his hands away from his eyes. "Nagorny loved you, he loved all of us, and he would have followed us even if you were a healthy boy who had outgrown him years before. The only people to blame are the ones that killed him, do you understand? And even if he had died because of your illness, you must know darling that nobody blames you for that."
He nods, still looking unsure.
"What if, they kill, all of our friends?" He whimpers, his voice higher than before. "Like Mr. Gibbes and Mr. Gilliard and Trina…"
"We will pray for them", I tell him, wiping away my own tears and then his. "It is the only thing we can do right now".
We end up praying until his sobbing is turned into silent tears again. I have to reassure him that, at the very least, our foreign friends such as Gilliard and Mr. Gibbes shouldn´t be in any danger.
I massage his arm and knee as gently as I can to help him a bit with the pain. He tells me they hurt a lot.
I think this pain either started or increased along with the nightmare. The hemorrhage and the pain that follows it never manifest immediately after the accident that causes them.
I massage for a long time, and he says it helps, but his whimpers and yelps betray him.
I don´t have anything else to help the poor thing, and I would be too ashamed to wake the commander a second time to ask him whether he has morphine. Maybe I will, tomorrow.
When I am about to leave for the other bed, he tearfully asks me to stay, and I don´t have a heart to refuse him, even though this is unusual. I let him hug me as tight as he would his teddy bear when he was younger, and I stroke his hair until he falls asleep. He smiles sweetly with his eyes closed as I do it. It makes me smile as well.
"I got him, mama", I whisper as I look up at the ceiling. "I will take care of him".
When I wake up, I find Alexei still sleeping peacefully next to me, as if nothing had happened yesterday. He didn't have any other nightmares, and the pain in his arm and leg wasn't terrible enough to keep him from falling asleep, at least not tonight. Thank God.
My arm just feels numb because Alyosha has rested his head on it, so I have to move it around for a while. It is quite funny.
The commander enters our rooms for roll calls and leaves soon after.
Just as the commander is leaving, Anastasia enters the room and hugs me so tightly she might suffocate me.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!" She exclaims, kissing me on one cheek every two times she utters the words ´I love you´.
I hug her back with an incredulous frown, but then I smile. Maybe my baby sister is running out of ideas on how to bother me. Poor thing.
"I love you too Nastenka", I say, unsettled by this sudden display of affection, "but hurry up, we have to get ready".
She doesn´t pull away or say anything else as she keeps hugging me. I embrace her back, more genuinely this time, closing my eyes. My dear little one has suffered so much… and she needs her older sister. Maybe she is just shy about saying it and so she is joking, as usual, to get her point across.
I tower over her, and despite being so skinny, I want to try this one last time. I lift her from the floor just for a second, during which she squeals in surprise before her shoes touch the ground again.
"I love you too", I repeat with a smile. "The priest is coming soon, so I am going to bathe first".
My little sister is still shaken up and laughing after I lifted her when I kiss her temple and pull away to go to the bathroom.
"And clean up the mess you left last night, Anastasia", I yell before entering the shower.
Oo
Yet again I spend more time in the shower than I should. I curse myself for it. Once I start crying in there I can´t stop, which is why I turn off the faucet before I do. I will waste all of the water in the world if I wait for my tears to stop flowing.
When I return from the bathroom, I find all of my siblings crying as well. All of them except for Olga, who is consoling Shvibzik. They are sitting side by side on one of the beds of our room.
Shvibzik is sobbing louder now than she did any time yesterday except immediately after that horrible nightmare took place. I look into my older sister's eyes in silent gratitude.
Masha is sitting on the other bed, rocking Alexei just like she did yesterday…
Yesterday, the only thing that took longer than my eternal shower was for Maria to stop rocking Alexei as if he were a baby after we bathed him. Because he is hiding his face in Maria's chest, Alexei's cries aren't as loud as Anastasia's. Masha sobs as well, kissing Alexei's hair over and over again.
If our parents hadn't been brutally murdered yesterday, I would have explained to both Maria and Alexei that he was getting too old for those things. I will never do so now.
What my baby brother wants more than the throne of Russia he will never have. He will never see our gentle and loving mama ever again, or be held in the strong arms of our father. He can take as much time as he wants. Maria can as well, as she seems to need this just as much.
I take Olga's place and comfort my little sister while she goes to the bathroom. This time, Anastasia doesn't try to hide her love and need for me with humor.
"I will be like your mother now, do you hear me?" I promise her. I feel her nod and hug me tighter. She keeps sobbing.
Oo
We all bathe and prepare ourselves early to be ready for obednya, which we have downstairs. My siblings and I eagerly take part in the ritual. We need it so much. Galina joins as well.
It is a very melancholic affair as a whole though. We are crying the entire time. During the sermon, as we pray for our parents. We weep discreetly, but we do. We are not allowed to talk to the priest. I almost try to apologize to him with my sight for our endless tears.
Olga and I stare at each other every now and then. I feel as if we could read each other thoughts. Maybe we do sometimes.
"If only mama were here", I "tell" her, or, "it doesn´t feel as good without them", she "replies". It is still a joy to finally receive communion, the only experience that, now I realize, never truly changes. Union with Christ is always so. Olga starts glowing.
I have told my sisters about what troubled our brother last night, so we continue praying for the safety of our friends and family during and after the service. I feel miserable when the priest leaves, but my mind is at ease, at rest for now.
We break the fast and Masha talks with Oleg as we eat. He is supposed to be watching over us, just like yesterday.
They are recalling games they played as children and discussing the usual differences between the things little boys and little girls play. Galina, Nastya, Alexei, and even Olga join the conversation occasionally. I am glad Oleg isn't talking to my sweetest sister about anything indecent.
We don't cry, and even our faces are a bit less swollen after having slept. It is curious how for minutes we act as if nothing bad had recently happened, only to go back to the same pathetic state in seconds.
"When I was a little girl, I played with both girl toys and boy toys," Nastya comments.
"That is because you liked to play with Alyosha more than me," Masha pouts at Anastasia, pretending to be upset.
"That is not true!" Anastasia protests. "I clearly remember I played with you most of the time!"
Alyosha nods in agreement.
"You remind me of me and my brothers when we were little," Oleg adds, smiling at Maria. "We also had arguments as little children because of jealousy, but at the end of the day we all loved playing together".
"Wait until I tell Ivan Skorokhodov", Nastya whispers in my ear. "He will be very jealous." I can't help but chuckle. My little Shvibzik says the silliest of things in the most inappropriate moments.
I can hear Commander Pavel Antonovich arguing behind us and am able to tell apart little of what he says. I am sure the word "Moscow" was used though, I am just way more invested in the conversation taking place at the breakfast table. I want to feel at ease.
I know Commander Pavel Antonovich is angry with the two other men. They arrived too early, Pavel claims. They go downstairs with him at the end of the argument. Olga is the one who brings my attention to it.
"Commander Antonovich looks stressed about something", Olenka tells me, sending chills down my spine. When Olga thinks something is important enough to point out, it means it probably is.
After a few minutes, Pavel Antonovich is back upstairs. He enters the living room accompanied by two strange men who are wearing black leather jackets and caps. They both have serious and stern expressions.
"Sorry for the interruption", Pavel says in a low tone of voice. "These two young men come from the Cheka in Moscow. Olga Nikolaevna, Tatiana Nikolaevna, could you please accompany us to my office please?" He then looks around the table, as if unsure about something. Finally, he adds: "Maria Nikolaevna can come as well".
The three of us slowly stand up and follow the men.
Once in the office, the men remain standing while we sit in front of Pavel's desk. Pavel also sits. We all stay silent for a while. More than a while.
I look at Pavel, at my sisters and the men. I look at Pavel again. No one is talking yet. The tension soon becomes unbearable.
"We have orders to take the former tsarevich to Moscow", one of the Chekists finally states. The news takes a few minutes to sink in.
This can't be happening. It is too much for two days… not again. My mind settles on this not being true. It can't be. No one says a word.
The two newcomers smirk at us. Olga and Maria's eyes fill with tears before mine do. I don't believe the news yet. Not the way they have been presented.
"But we are coming with him, right?" I calmly venture. Maybe we have just misunderstood what the man said.
"No", the other Chekist asserts. "Moscow has different plans for the women".
Silence again, for one minute or two. It makes no sense after what we have suffered and endured. It makes no sense after we have been through.
It makes no sense, but it finally hits me.
It took a while. I must have looked like some kind of idiot.
"But why? What do you mean?" I inquire. My eyes well up. "What do you want him for? He needs us!" My voice breaks as I exclaim that last sentence.
"Our intentions are none of your concern," the Chekist replies, and Pavel directs a sad, pitiful look at us.
"You knew this!" Olga fumes at Pavel. Tears are rolling down my older sister's cheeks, but her voice is not broken. She stands up and points her index finger directly at the commander. "You knew since we arrived! That is why you complained about the time but didn't look surprised to see them!"
Antonovich commands her to sit down with a cold, firm tone of voice I had never heard him use before. Olga does sit, but not without first giving Pavel a look that, knowing my sister, can only be interpreted as pure sheer hatred.
"This is too cruel! Ridiculous! My brother is sick!" Masha bawls, suddenly sounding like mama. "We don't know any of you people! Don't you have children? Have a heart!"
Quickly. I have to think of something to say. We can´t overpower them, we are completely defenseless, but I can reason with them. I must convince them somehow. There must be a solution to this.
"Please comrades," I try to appeal to them by using their language. "Let us keep our brother, we will not cause any trouble".
"He is not a threat to you anymore," Olga adds, looking down at her feet to appear humble as she tries to control her rage. "He is just a typical boy his age whose everyday concern is not getting bored. He is not interested in using his claim against you. I can assure you there is nothing he thinks about less."
I nod at the men, genuinely supporting what my sister just said. I hope they have taken her argument seriously.
"If you let us live with him in exile, we promise to never come back", I weep, directing an apologetic look at Olga, who doesn't want to leave Russia. Due to the present circumstances, however, she doesn't protest or even react to what I said.
"He is still young", Olga continues arguing with a more desperate tone of voice. "We will touch the subject of our past only when necessary, we will find someone to teach him another trade, or send him to some foreign university. We will even try to make sure he marries a foreign commoner. By the time he turns 21, the very idea of interrupting his normal life to go back to Russia in order to use his claim will be preposterous to him, he will…"
"You must decide which one of you will tell the boy he is leaving", Antonovich cuts in.
There isn't a solution, I know this now.
They forced papa and Alexei to remove their epaulets. They split our family apart for no apparent reason at Tobolsk. They kept us in seclusion with the windows painted white at Ekaterinburg. They murdered our parents. They stripped us of our clothes, our jewels, and our dignity. There was nothing we could do, or could ever have done.
Now they are taking our baby brother as well, and there is still nothing we can do. I am tired of accepting everything so meekly like I am supposed to, like papa told me I should. I am tired of being a prisoner. I am not strong enough.
"If none of you will tell him, we will," one of the new men says. He nods at his partner, and then both Chekists move with the clear intention of walking towards the door. Masha leaves her chair and places herself in front of them.
"No! Please!" She implores, bawling her eyes out. I see she is about to beg on her knees, but I will not allow that. I rush towards Maria and hold her up, hugging her tightly as well in order to comfort her.
The two men, in turn, use this opportunity to keep walking towards the door.
"He is only a cripple!" I yell at them, feeling disgusted immediately after daring to utter that word. Mama hated it. The tears run down from my eyes faster.
Masha pulls away from the hug and looks at me. Her big blue eyes are filled with concern as well as tears.
"Wait!" Maria shouts. The men stop by the doorway. "I will tell him".
She walks through the door sobbing. The two Chekists follow her closely behind. Maybe too closely.
Olga has stayed in the chair this entire time. Her stare is empty. If it weren´t for the tears in her eyes, I would have thought she no longer cares. Her face changes immediately when she looks at me again. Olga completely breaks down, bursting into sobs as she stands up to hug me.
My older sister and I can´t bear to listen to the conversation that will ensue between the little pair and Alexei. We sit in the corner of the office, hugging and sniveling.
Antonovich works on his papers and occasionally stares at us with pity. He then starts using the telegram.
I can´t block their reactions out. They reach my ears even coming from upstairs in the big living room. Their cries of fear are worse than I expected.
I feel so ashamed, I have failed my poor mama. Oh, how she would suffer if she could see! Her baby boy! All alone! And for God knows what reason!
I didn´t even have the courage to be the one to tell him.