CHAPTER 5 from ANSWERING ANNAVETA by Lorna Faith
“I
DIDN”T LIKE HOW YOU treated that nice young man when he was introduced to us,
daughter. The matchmaker went out of her way to help us, and you didn’t even
give Misha a smile. Shame on you.” Papa’s eyes were hard, narrowing to mere
slits as he stared at her. “I know he will be coming to our village tomorrow
for the Posidelki work bee and social afterward. I want you
to do whatever you need to do to show that you are happy to see him. This is
one way you can finally make up for the disgrace you brought on our family at
the Shremetev estate. Do you understand?”
Annaveta answered, “I
don’t like him, Papa. He’s so arrogant and only talks about himself. Pavla says
she heard that he drinks all the time and gets into fights when he does.”
Annaveta looked at her mama for her support, knowing she longed for her
daughter to marry a good man, but she remained silent.
Her papa continued.
“Well, Pavla isn’t always right. I’ve heard from the matchmaker that his family
is rich. That’s all I need to know. He’s living the Russian proverb: ‘Get a
wife from afar; buy a cow near.’ So, you will do as I say, or you’ll wish you
had. Do you hear me?” Papa shook his finger in front of her nose.
“Yes, Papa.” Annaveta
knew she would have to obey or she would get a beating. She wanted to have a
way out, but any hope for her future seemed very bleak.
The door
slammed as he left their small hut, heightening the tension in the room.
Annaveta jumped back, her body’s response instinctive. Her hands moved her wet
rag with more vigor over the almost spotless stove, each movement emphasizing
her anger. Papa’s unreasonable demands spun around in her head. Maybe the anger
she was feeling at being forced to marry would begin to wear away like the skin
on the end of her fingers. She looked over at Mama, who was busy cooking the
fish that Nicolai had caught for this evening’s meal. She sighed, a mixture of
frustration and resignation in the sound.
Her future would be
very bleak indeed if she had to spend it with Misha. Nicolai had asked his
friends about him, and they all said he got drunk regularly and thought he was
the best at everything. His friends said there were some of the youth in his
village who’d claimed he dallied with plenty of girls, and that there was one
girl he got in trouble.
Nicolai’s description
of Misha didn’t surprise her. One thing she knew was that she didn’t want
anything to do with an unprincipled man like that. For now she would have to go
along with the plan, but she was desperate to figure out a way out of this
mess.
<><><>
ANNAVETA
AWOKE TO THE SOUND of her tummy’s growl as the aroma of Mama’s rye bread baking
filled their small hut. Sitting up, she groaned and rubbed an imprint on her
back caused by the long night spent on the knotted sleeping bench. She
remembered that today, the last day in April, was a special day for her. It was
her sixteenth birthday. She knew she should be excited, but for some reason
uneasiness filled her senses. Maybe it was the bad dream she’d had of her
family all dying suddenly. Involuntarily she shuddered as images of their
burning hut flooded her mind. I
really should tell Mama about my dream, but she would probably just say that it
was just a silly dream, nothing to worry about. She looked over at Mama, who stopped what she was doing and
came to Annaveta. She was being silly; of course, there was nothing to worry
about. Everyone was fine.
“Happy birthday,
little one.” Mama put her hands on the sides of Annaveta’s face and kissed both
her cheeks. “You are so grown-up. Today is a special day, your first Posidelki. You will remember this day when you are
older as the day you faced your future with strength.” Mama smiled at her and
kissed her forehead. “I have something for you. It was my mama’s before me, but
now it’s yours. Someday you can pass it on to your daughter.”
Annaveta stared in
surprise at the ring with a small ruby in the middle, encircled by delicately
designed gold. She put it on her finger, and tears came to her eyes.
“Thank you, Mama. I
will treasure it always.” She hugged her mama knowing what a sacrifice it must
have been to save it for her.
“Oh, daughter. You
are such a good girl. I just want you to be happy.” Mama kissed both her
cheeks, then stepped back and wiped her own wet cheeks.
Annaveta watched as
Mama hurried back to cooking breakfast. Looking at the ring, for the first time
she felt a real connection with her mama and grandmere. She knew they were
strong women who had made it through so much hardship. She was grateful for her
mama’s reassuring words and the gift, but she didn’t feel any strength;
instead, uncertainty and fear formed knots in her stomach. This was not the
future she wanted, but this was what she had been given. There was nothing to
be done to change it. She told herself she would go along with what Papa and
Mama wanted so there would be enough food on the table for her family. She knew
if she married into a rich family she could at least help them out. In her
heart she knew she had to sacrifice the freedom and love she so desperately
wanted so her mama and brothers could have a better life.
She looked up and saw
little Yuri’s mouth quiver as each of his loud snores pierced the stillness of
the morning. He lay on his tummy, his little arms dangling down from the
sleeping loft by the large white stove. Nicolai was sleeping on the bench
beneath him. She was so thankful that at least these two brothers had survived
out of the ten babies that had started in Mama’s womb. Annaveta was sure that
the many beatings from Papa had killed the others.
She seethed thinking
of her mama’s suffering. How she hated her papa. Yes, she determined in her
heart to do everything she could to help take care of her mama and brothers.
Her hands trembled as
she picked up her folded clothes. The sound of wood being chopped echoed
through the small hut. She knew she had better get moving - Papa would be
coming inside soon. With quick movements she changed into her patched black
skirt and gray blouse, the only work clothes she owned. She folded her
nightdress and set it neatly on top of the folded blankets on the bench.
Hearing the clunk of the spoon against the pot, she looked over at Mama. She had
her brown-and-gray-streaked hair pulled back into a tight bun and a kerchief
around her head. Annaveta watched as she used her sleeve to get rid of the
perspiration on her forehead, while stirring with her other hand. Annaveta
wiped a stray tear from the corner of one eye.
This is what my life will be like
soon. I’ll be stirring kasha, bearing children, and being bound to a man who
will control my every move. Just like Mama. But there can be no more tears. I
will just have to accept it. With
an angry flick, she removed the last tear from her cheek, determined to somehow
survive this.
Annaveta’s hurried
steps made swooshing noises in the wet grass as she made her way to the
makeshift outhouse behind the house. The brisk wind poured through wide-open
wooden slats like a cold waterfall. She peered outside at the sky and saw the
sun trying to pierce its way through dark fuming clouds that seemed ready to
lash out at the unsuspecting earth beneath it. She understood their show of
displeasure.
Mama had the boys up
and dressed by the time she got back and was putting the kasha on the table. Nicolai and Yuri sat still,
rubbing their eyes as Mama filled their bowls with the steaming porridge.
Annaveta wished for
honey to put in their plain fare, but had learned early in life to keep her
thoughts to herself or be prepared for a quick strike across her cheek from the
back of Papa’s hand.
“Annaveta is to help
at the Posidelki today.”
Annaveta watched her
mama’s lips form an uncertain smile as she sat down and looked up at her
husband.
“Good.” He glared at
Annaveta. “You think on what I told you. I expect a contract of marriage for
you soon. This family needs some good luck for once,” her papa said, firmly
shaking his finger at her.
“Yes, Papa,” She forced the words from her mouth. The
thought of courting and marrying any of the men she knew sent a ripple of fear
through her body. She had seen firsthand the bruises of most of the women in
the village and late at night had heard their screams. She wanted to escape
that life to something better.
The image of Alex’s
gentle eyes flashed through her mind. Her heart tapped the staccato beat of the
round dance as she remembered being held in his arms. She longed to feel his
touch and hear his voice once again. Anticipation caused her stomach to flutter
as she remembered she would see Alex and his sister on Sunday. Catching her
breath, she stopped herself to take in all the sensations that flooded her
whenever she thought of him. She covered her mouth to hide the sound that
slipped out, and her eyes widened as she realized her attraction to Alex.
But upon looking over
at her papa, she realized nothing had changed. An aching pain began in her
chest, and she closed her eyes. Because of her papa’s demands she would have to
show interest in someone else. Alex came from the wrong kind of people, and her
papa would never approve.
<><><>
AS
PAVLA HOED THE LAST row of newly planted potatoes in the vegetable garden,
Annaveta grabbed her heavy pail of water and poured it into the trenches. Widow
Polaski would have a good-sized garden this year, with lots of vegetables.
Covering the small holes with the soft black soil, the girls finished in short
order. They stretched, rubbing their aching backs as they took stock of their
hard work. A tired sigh escaped as Annaveta thought of the wood that still
needed to be hauled before they started supper.
“Pavla, I’ll help with the outside
work for Widow Polaski. Since all us girls are renting her house to use this
coming year, I’ll haul the wood. You could join the other girls in the house
and help get the food ready for tonight.” Annaveta wanted to avoid being in the
same room with the other village girls for as long as possible.
“All right, I can manage that. I
can’t wait for the social tonight. I think the kissing games will be the most
fun, don’t you think?” Pavla said as her lips puckered with the sound.
“That’s the part I dread. I like
it that our work benefits others, but it bothers me that we girls are expected
to encourage boys we hardly know to show affection. I don’t understand or want
any part of it.” Annaveta frowned with disgust.
“You’re beautiful.
You’ll be chosen quickly,” Pavla said, trying to encourage her.
“You know as well as
I that parents and matchmakers in our village persuade men to choose girls with
physical strength to bear many children and to do heavy labor. We aren’t
encouraged to seek love but to help our families. You’re stronger than I am,
Pavla; you’ll be chosen first.” Annaveta’s frown turned into a smile as she
thought about it. “You know, this is probably a good thing. Maybe I’ll be
rejected for lack of strength.”
“Well, don’t be too
happy just yet,” Pavla whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she
looked behind Annaveta. “Here comes Misha wearing a big grin on his face. It
looks like he likes you in spite of your beauty and lack of strength.”
Annaveta stamped her
foot letting her friend know that she wasn’t impressed. Pavla laughed and went
inside the hut. Annaveta thought about walking away, but he’d already spotted
her. He must have
come from his village to join the group of young men here in Noltava for the
Posidelki social. Like most
of the young men, he arrived just in time to eat the food and join in the
dance. She should’t be surprised that he came, though. Since he had already won
over most of the young men in this village by giving out his vodka at the round
dance, his friends were probably eager to have him come and bribe them with
drink once again.
The girls were
expected to do all the work and provide the food, while the young men showed up
later on with the entertainment. There wasn’t much she could do to change it,
but she longed to go somewhere where she would be free from all the limits that
is seemed fate had placed on her. Annaveta didn’t want to go back to the
widow’s hut, knowing that he would be there with his friends. She didn’t have a
choice, however, knowing her papa expected her to be there and would be
disgraced by the other villagers if she didn’t show up with a young man by her
side.
“Hello there, my
lovely flower. I see you know how to work. That’s good. Once we’re married,
there will be a lot of it to keep you busy.” Misha strolled over to her, his
steps swaying and words slurring as he took another drink of the bottle he held
in his tight grip.
“Misha, I’m busy.”
Annaveta carried her armload of heavy wood to the back of the hut to put it in
the wooden box. After dumping it in, she closed the lid, crinkling her nose at
the strong stench of alcohol that surrounded him like a fog. Just like Papa.
“Misha, go back to
your friends.” Annaveta moved to go past him.
“No. You won’t get
away this time. Stay here. With me.” Misha grabbed her arms, pulling her closer
to him. She stiffened at his harsh touch.
“Go away, Misha. Stop
it.” Annaveta’s angry tone grew louder as she tried to jerk away from him.
“From what I hear you
don’t usually tell men to go away. You would rather encourage their advances.
So, I just want to test the goods for myself.” He pulled her closer, harshly
pressing his lips to hers. She twisted out of his arms.
“You’d better not be
spreading those lies about me. I’ll have you brought before the village
elders,” Annaveta threatened as she wiped off the imprint of his lips. She
scrunched her nose in distaste at the foul smell of vodka that lingered on his
breath.
“Well, soon it won’t
matter because you’ll be mine.” Misha’s smile vanished, and his words turned
cold. “Don’t even think about changing your mind either. Because if you don’t
marry me, I will come after you. And if you ever marry someone else, I will
kill him.”
Misha’s words sent an
icy chill down her spine, and even in his semi-drunk state, she knew he meant
it. Fear wrapped strangling tentacles around her, and for a moment she could’t
breathe. She forced herself to remain calm and inhale slowly, unwilling to let
the fear of what he might do intimidate her. She was determined to stand her
ground against Misha. He had ruined other girls’ reputations, and she didn’t
want to be stained in the same way. She had heard of a girl a few years ago in
her village who had been branded falsely as a loose woman. Her family’s gate
around their izba had been tarred black so everyone would
think she was unchaste. It wasn’t until the girl confronted her accuser at the
village assembly that those in authority asked the village midwife to examine
her. When she had the humiliating physical examination to prove her virginity,
the single young men asked the young woman for her forgiveness. They had to pay
a fine, and the village officials hung a sign and made a white mark beside the
tar on the parents’ gate announcing to the village that the girl had been
proven innocent. Annaveta didn’t want to go through such embarrassment.
“No more, Misha. I
need to go help the other girls prepare the food for tonight.” Annaveta turned
her head to the side as he tried to kiss her again. She pushed at his chest to
distance herself from his embrace.
“I’ll let you go for
now, but only because I know I’ll see you inside for the kissing games later
on.” Misha laughed and sauntered off, making a crooked path as he guzzled the
half-empty bottle of vodka.
Annaveta silently
crossed her arms and shook her head. She thought about what the evening might
bring. Pavla had told her she was excited about tonight because at the Posidelki they would be allowed to be more intimate
than at the Khorvody or any other social. She knew Pavla was
interested in Sergei and wanted more time with him. But there wasn’t any man
here that Annaveta even liked.
She sighed. If only
Alex were here. He would save her from Misha and the wagging tongues. But the
hard feelings between the Russian peasants and German colonists made that
impossible. Oh, if only there was some way to disappear tonight.
<><><>
LOOKING
AROUND THE CROWDED ROOM, what little courage Annaveta had sank down to her
toes. She glanced at the matchmaker, who sat in the middle of a long line of
older village women. They all watched closely what the young people were up to
and frowned upon anyone who wasn’t paired off. Annaveta knew this was only one
of many such socials to come specially devised to bring couples together for
marriage.
“Gather around, young
ones.” Widow Polaski waved her hands for them to come closer. There were ten
men and nine young ladies, but one young man was the accordion player, so it
looked like everyone had a partner.
“We will start with
the first song. Remember to choose your partner wisely. As the saying goes:
‘Choose a cow by its horn, a maiden by her kin.”’ The old ladies laughed and
nodded as they heard the familiar Russian proverb. “So, men, choose your young
ladies. We will have three songs and then some games.” Widow Polaski nodded for
the young man to start the music.
Annaveta stood back,
hoping to disappear. Pavla was soon escorted to the dance floor by Sergei. They
moved together in a slow-moving waltz. Soon most of the other girls were
dancing with their partners, enjoying each other. Annaveta stood against the
corner wall watching.
The words of the song
reinforced what she already knew. Men were to choose a bride for her strength
and diligence, not for her beauty. To choose a bride of spotless reputation.
Well, the last requirement, according to village gossip, put her at a
disadvantage. Mama had said to choose a man for a husband who was sober and
hardworking. Well then, she should run far away from Misha.
Annaveta watched her
friend dance and started to sway to the soothing sounds of the music. She was
enjoying herself, when abruptly her hand was pulled and she fell against a hard
body.
“Come, my beauty,
let’s dance.” Misha wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Not so close, Misha.
I can hardly breathe.” Annaveta tried to pull his hands away, but she was no
match for his strength. She looked over his shoulder at the sly stares of the
older women watching. They smiled at her and nodded, talking between
themselves, their tongues wagging as fast as the stitches they knitted. Her
anger increased as she thought of their smiles while Misha was pawing at her.
It didn’t look like there would be any protection from that corner.
“This social is for
young people to get closer. A lot closer,” Misha whispered in her ear as his
hand from her waist to her bottom.
She turned her head
so he wouldn’t talk in her ear and moved his hand back to her waist. That was a
mistake, for as he looked down at her he covered her lips with his own. She
moved her head to the side, only to have him trail kisses down her neck. She
looked at the other couples , and saw most of them doing the same thing. She
didn’t want to join the crowd.
Sighing with relief,
she pulled herself away when the long song finally ended.
“I need to go to the
kitchen.” Annaveta firmly loosened his octopus-like arms from her waist.
“Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting for you,” Misha said as
he walked toward the drink table.
Annaveta tried her
best to keep herself busy in the kitchen, making more sandwiches and putting
more goodies on plates. She was enjoying having time to herself, when she heard
someone behind her.
“Let me help you
carry those.” Misha took the two plates. “Widow Polaski has decided it’s time
for the games. The first one is spin the bottle.”
Annaveta’s cheeks
turned red as she noticed that most of the girls were sitting on their man’s
lap. She knew how this game was played. The bottle was quickly turned, and when
it stopped, the girl whom the bottle was facing was the one the fellow got to
kiss.
Misha pulled her onto
his lap, and Annaveta’s face and neck flushed red with embarrassment. She
quickly scrambled up before he could grab her and sat down on the floor. She
watched as the bottle whirled around and stopped before Pavla. A shy man from
their village tripped over his feet in his eagerness to give her a quick kiss
on the cheek.
Annaveta smiled at
her friend’s red face. The bottle was spun next by Misha. It stopped and
pointed to her. She cringed inside.
“Let me kish those
lovely lipsh,” Misha said, his words slurred. He tried to get to her lips but
teetered with drunkenness and slobbered over her cheek instead. Annaveta was
grateful when Sergei pulled him back into his chair.
Annaveta sighed with
relief when that game finished. They played a few more games and the music had
begun for the next round of dancing, when there was a loud knock on the door.
Widow Polaski opened
the door to let a harried Mr. Baranova inside her small hut. A blast of cold
wind pushed him from behind, sending chills up Annaveta’s arms.
Pavla’s papa, with
shoulders bowed and face ashen, stood facing Annaveta.
“Widow Polaski, I’ve
come to get Miss Travotsky.” He ran shaky fingers through his hair as he looked
first at the widow and then at Annaveta.
“There’s been a fire.
I’m so sorry to tell you that your family’s izba has
burned to the ground. I’ve already searched along with some of the village men.
There was nothing left. No survivors. We were too late.” His trembling fingers
wiped the corner of one eye. He lowered his head and stared at the hat in his
hand.
Annaveta gasped and
shook her head, unable to take it in.
She stepped closer to
the solemn-faced man. Silence filled the room, and then she heard the shuffling
of many feet as all the others in the room encircled her. Heavy dread filled
her, and her legs went weak. She was sure she must have heard wrong. “I’m
sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. What did you say about my mama, papa
and brothers?”
Mr. Baranova repeated
his words. The blood drained from her face. Her arms and legs grew weak and
started shaking violently. Widow Polaski moved beside her and held her hand.
Annaveta looked
around and saw all the men and ladies from the Posidelki social
staring at her. Two of the older widows each passed a handkerchief to her, as
they wiped away their own tears. She sought out Pavla and grabbed her arm and
held on tightly when her friend came and stood by her.
Annaveta tried to
digest the news. She looked up at Mr. Baranova, hoping that it had all been a
horrible mistake. But the grave expression on his face revealed the truth of
his words.
“My two brothers,
Mama and Papa - all dead? How could this have happened? It can’t be true, it
just can’t.” Her eyes bulged as she stared at Mr. Baranova, hoping he would
take back his words of doom.
Sadly, it is all
true. I’m so sorry.” Mr. Baranova looked down, twisting his cloth hat in his
hands, and shook his head.
A gasp escaped her
and she stumbled against Pavla, who had her arm around her. “I can’t believe
it. They’re all gone. What will I do now?” Annaveta’s dazed look went around
the room silently questioning all the solemn faces that stared back at her. She
looked down and rubbed the ring on her finger. “Everyone who loved me is gone.
I’ll never see or hug my mama or my brothers every again.” Putting her hands
over her face she sobbed as the reality of what just happened flooded her mind.
The weight of her
loss crushed her will to go on. Her legs buckled from under her before
everything went black.
