Alexei's Promise

Historical fiction depicting travails, travels, coming of age of Russian boy escaping war

Sasha was the first to lift his head from harvesting beets and potatoes from the family garden. Seconds later the entire family became aware of the ground trembling beneath their aching knees.

"Cossacks," hissed the mother. It wouldn't be long before the family will feel the full force of hundreds of hooves galloping toward their village. It would sound like the thunder of a gathering storm.

With yet another revolution brewing, Cossacks were scouring White Ruthenia - {/c Belorussia - to conscript recruits from among the area's peasants, boys as young as thirteen, for the Tzar's White Army.

The ground seemed to shake endlessly wherever the well-disciplined and fearless Cossacks rode. And with whispers of another revolution already circulating, there was no doubt these staunch defenders of the empire were out seeking recruits for an increasingly ruthless monarch.

The family grabbed their half-filled baskets of vegetables and ran to the house. They were well rehearsed in the drill about to follow.

Their mother, Natalia, dreaded Cossacks even though their deep devotion to the monarchy and Russian Orthodoxy aligned with her own beliefs. Her husband Boris was a believer too, as was most of Belorussia, the smallest territory belonging to the Romanov monarchy.

The Tsar was beloved and supported here and the family prayed daily for the monarchy's continuation before their evening meal and while standing endlessly during the long Sunday services at St. Basil's Russian Orthodox church.

As a younger man, Boris had fought alongside the Cossacks. A decade ago, he soldiered during a short revolution to save the Tsar's powerful grip on the vast Russian Empire. Although Tsar Nicholas remained a sovereign following the short revolution, the monarchy was forced to adopt a constitution and govern alongside an elected Duma.

A young Alexei vividly remembered the day his father returned from the two-year war. Disheveled, dirty, disoriented, limping, and war worn, Boris hobbled into the welcoming arms of Natalia, the love of his life. He had lost most of the vision in one eye during battle, and his right leg still had the remains of a bullet embedded in his ankle.

He had left them as a young father, proud and full of strength. He returned to them, appearing as a weakened, disillusioned middle-aged man. War, it seemed, could drastically age even the strongest of men.

His heart, though, seemed fully alive. He basked in the affection of his children Alexei and Marushka, marveling at how they had grown during his absence. It was probably at the moment of his homecoming that Boris vowed neither he nor any son of his would experience the harsh reality of war. Not even for Tsar Nicholas.

It was to honor this vow that the family rushed into the house to hide Alexei. If the 14-year-old was found by the approaching Cossacks, he would certainly be taken away and conscripted into the White Army.

"You will not be cannon fodder for the Tsar's army," Natalia insisted, leading her oldest son to the huge petchka that dominated the center of the household. The oven served purposes other than cooking and baking. It heated the entire izba when lit throughout the frigid winters. The stone slab top when softened with blankets often served as a warm bed for the little ones as the petchka's fire slowly diminished and snow increased outdoors.

The petchka's mouth was huge. It had to be in order to hold the many pots and loaves of bread Natalia and Marushka - the eldest daughter - needed to cook daily for the growing family.

On this day, though, the oven would hide Marushka as well as Alexei. As a nubile 14-year-old, their parents were fearful that she too might be snatched by a plundering Cassock as Natalia's younger sister Tatiana had been snatched during the last revolution.

With the fearless Cossacks and the thousands of other Tsarists possibly warring again - this time against the ruthless Bolsheviks - the parents were determined to keep their beloved children safe.

"Alexei, you get into the oven first. Push back as far as you can," Boris ordered. "Marushka, you follow behind brother," he added when sure Alexei was well placed. This wasn't the siblings' first foray into the petchka. While they practiced many times before, on this day it was no practice, the regimen was for real.

News of another revolution was gleaned from newspapers smuggled into the country by foreign visitors.

Belorussia's own newspapers were virtually nonexistent or heavily censored by the monarchy. As talk of another revolution circulated in the village, neighbors took heed. There was little doubt the monarchy would be overthrown this time around.

Tsar Nicholas had become an exceedingly harsh ruler, resulting in mistrust, unrest, and anger throughout the empire, as constitutional gains achieved during the revolution of 1905 were disregarded by the monarchy.

When the siblings were squeezed together in the very back of the petchka, they called to Boris letting him know they were settled. Boris then retrieved a pile of previously charred wood from the yard behind their izba, the stone house inherited from Tatiana's parents.

With the help of 10-year-old Sasha and the family's youngest boy Nikolai, Boris constructed a wall of charred logs between his two children huddled in the back of the oven and the oven's mouth

. He then put the iron grate in place. In front of the grate, Papa and the boys placed a few of the baskets containing the harvested beets and potatoes the family had dug up, seemingly just moments ago.

With the help of the family's 4-year-old twin sisters, Elena and Sofia, Natalia took some half-filled baskets back to the garden, where Papa and the two brothers eventually joined them.

Even from within the petchka, Alexei and Marushka could hear the thundering approach of the Cossacks. They imagined the twins holding their ears, crying and eventually clutching Natalia's apron as a cloud of dusty dry soil followed the Cossack cavalry into the village.

Marushka and Alexei squeezed each other's sweaty hands as they sensed the izba door opening and heard unfamiliar footsteps. They were heavy. Probably boots. Neither Boris nor the boys ever wore boots inside the house. One of the Cossacks had likely entered the home with Boris.

The two siblings held their breath, straining their ears attempting to discern a conversation between Boris and the invisible Cossack. They heard the heavy boots walking around the home. The Cossack apparently noticed the baskets full of vegetables set in front of the pechka.

"Your garden is bountiful," said the unfamiliar voice, "as is your family. You have two young sons and twin daughters, yes?"

"That is so," Boris replied, quickly changing the subject to the abundance of vegetables. "Take as many vegetables as you want," Boris offered even as he dreaded the thought of losing any of the food that stood between his family and starvation. "Your men would surely appreciate fresh vegetables," he prompted. "They will need to be fed, especially as this dreadful famine lingers," he added.

Seemingly undeterred by the thought of fresh vegetables, the Cossack remarked, "It is strange to me that a man of your age does not have older children."

"I was at war to preserve our holy monarchy in my younger years," Boris replied, adding he had been away from home for over three years during the revolution a decade ago.

"Ah," remarked the Cossack, his voice softening. "And now you have two sons who will make you proud protecting our Tsar in the years to come. This one will be ready soon," he added.

Marushka shuddered imagining the stranger tousling Sasha's abundant head of black hair. Alexei squeezed her hand, sensing his sister's disdain. They were best friends, separated by only a year.

They drew even closer, comforting their mother while Boris was at war. They shared their own fears and trusted each other with their innermost concerns and dreams. Neither could imagine life without the other.

The house became quiet while outdoors, the earth once again thundered as the Cossack huntsmen departed. Light began filtering inside the oven as Boris took apart the log wall that had been hiding Alexei and Marushka. The family, all together again, held hands in a circle and said a prayer of thanksgiving that the two siblings were not discovered.

Tatiana and the twins set out a spare midday meal while Alexei and Marushka scrubbed their skin, removing the lingering dirt from their hide-away. There was little chatter during the meal, as the unwelcome visit from the Cossack tribe seemingly diminished everyone's spirit.

When they finished the meal, Boris called for the family's attention. He looked serious and unusually sullen.

"It is too dangerous for you here, Alexei," Boris whispered hoarsely. "You must leave this place," he added, his voice breaking.

"And where will he go, Boris? Are you crazy?" Natalia screamed. "Between the Great War, the wave of Americans coming to join the fighting, and a revolution brewing here, the whole world will soon be at war," was her angry response. "Alexei will not be safe anywhere," she wept.

Sucking in their collective breath, the children all lowered their heads. They never before heard their mother speak to their father in such a way. Neither had the children ever heard their mother disagree with their father while they were present.

"Natalia, I have decided," Boris responded to his wife, while looking at Alexei.

"Son, by traveling during the nights, you can reach Poland where it is now relatively safe," Boris assured Alexei. "You can find work there - any work at all - and save money," he continued with his arm around his oldest son's shoulders.

Somehow Boris was finding the energy to sound positive for the sake of his firstborn. With some success he turned his own internal turmoil and fear into a tale of adventure not only for Alexei, but for the entire family. "Eventually," Boris continued, "you can make your way to Sweden." Looking straight into his son's eyes, he told this beloved boy-man his prayer was that Alexei, once in Sweden, could work for passage to America.

Boris then handed Alexei a fistful of the family's meager savings.

Natalia wept quietly against her husband's chest. He stroked her hair and whispered softly. "Natalia, you know the Belorussia we love will be gone soon. There is no hope here. There is no promise here; not for Alexei, not for any of us once the Bolsheviks replace the monarchy. Instead of eventually fighting a losing battle in the White Army, Alexei will build a good life elsewhere," Boris promised his wife, who finally found the fortitude to stop crying.

She sighed deeply, dried her tears and promised herself she would do her best to make Alexei's departure as positive as possible. "Alexei will write to us so we can follow his adventures," she declared aloud, with near confident optimism.

"He will write to us and make us proud." Boris kissed his wife, wiping away any stray tear left on her ruddy cheeks. Slowly, reluctantly she left her husband's embrace to prepare a sack of food for Alexei.

Marushka was bereft. Her brother, her best friend, was leaving. She knew it was probable she'd never see him again.

She sat on the floor near the door of their home, rocking back and forth hugging her knees, head in a lap soaked with her tears. She wanted to be the last in the family to bid Alexei farewell.

She could hardly breathe. Alexei stood before her wearing all the clothing he owned, pants on top of pants, shirts on top of shirts.

As Alexei approached the door leading to the unknown, she stood. Alexei tightly hugged his sister, his best friend. .

He whispered in her ear. "I will see you in America, Marushka. I promise."

Alexei then slipped into the night.