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Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: wouldn't you like to know? hehe...
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This is part of a series of short stories...'toy soldiers' is part of it, but i think that that one is a lot better than this one. and sorry that its a little longer than 2000 words.
The tall, lanky boy stood, trying to ease the cramps in his shoulders and back. With a sigh, he bent down again and continued to plant the seeds; seeds he knew had a one in ten chance of growing, if it was a good year. And most years around this part were not good. It was too cold for farming, really, but this was all his father knew. And this was all that he knew, and what he would inherit when his father died.
He looked up at the sky with his piercing blue eyes, at the gathering clouds. It might rain, but snow was more probable, and would probably kill the seeds he was planting today, making his days of work into nothing. He groaned loudly and shook his head. As if he had another choice. He was sure that if he did, he would certainly do anything to get out of this life, and into anything better.
His friends mocked him, because he was such a dreamer, and farmers were rarely dreamers. But Nikolai wanted to be something better than a farmer. He wanted to go to University, but he knew the chances of that were slim to none, and far closer to none.
He heard a voice in the distance and immediately recognized it as his father’s, as that was the only person who had reason to be out here at a time so late in the evening. Everyone else was eating; it wasn’t as if his family ever had enough to eat. Maybe there was some soup tonight, though more likely than not, whatever food there was would go to his mother and his younger sisters, all three of them. If there was any food left, it would probably go to his father. To get any food at all, he had to seek out the undersize berries and plants that grew around here. It was amazing, he considered, that he was still alive after fifteen years of that.
He walked over to his father, who said, “Hard day?”
Nikolai knew the right answer to that. “Not as hard as some.” Not once in his life had he said ‘yes’ to that question. Or rather, he had once, and gotten an hour-long lecture on how easy he had it.
“Hungry, boy?”
Nikolai knew the right answer to that question as well. “Not very.”
“Good. There’s next to no food, you know that.”
Nikolai nodded. This was not a time to speak, this was merely a time to agree and listen to what his father said. Someday, though, he would get out of this, whatever it took to do it.
“You’re no farmer, boy.” It was a simple statement, not a question.
A grimace appeared on Nikolai's face. This did not sound good, and he was almost afraid to hear what would come next.
“You’re a dreamer, and I got no use for dreamers around here.”
Nikolai nodded slightly, though did not say a word. His father had never talked to him like this before, and Nikolai was almost scared to keep listening.
“I heard you say you want to get an education.”
Nikolai swallowed hard. He had been very careful to never say that in his father's hearing. Where, then, had his father found out? What was coming next, though, was sure to be not good.
“Boy, you know I can barely afford to keep this family alive. There ain’t no money to send you to school.”
Nikolai wasn’t thinking, and so said, “What if I earned the money myself?”
Sergei frowned. “And where would you be getting this work? More importantly, who would there be to feed the family? I’m too old, and your sisters are too young. We need you here, boy.”
Nikolai knew he should have known better than to ask. Still, though, he was determined to convince his father to send him to school. “What if I found someone else to work instead of me?”
“Then we’d have to pay him, boy, and we don’t have enough money to do that.”
Nikolai sighed. “But I’d be getting a job and I could pay him…”
“And you couldn’t pay for your education. Boy, there’s no way out of this.” Sergei walked off.
Nikolai shook his head. He would find a way out, no matter what it took. He would not be bound to his father’s fate; he would do absolutely anything to get out of this place.
~~~
His chance came just a few weeks later. The United States declared war on Germany, and Russia was allied to Italy, which was allied to Germany, and so was required also to fight.
That sent Nikolai to thinking. He could join the army, and then he could get out. With his pay, he could afford to move out and go to school. And then all of this would be over.
The only minor problem was that the recruiting post was a good fifteen miles away. Nikolai puzzled that problem for several days, until he finally came up with an answer.
The next morning, well before the sun rose, he rose and walked out of the house, never once looking back. If fate was good to him, he would never lay eyes on it again.
~~~
“Not gonna get any soldiers out of these parts, sir,” said Corporal Zemelov with a smile on his face. “They’re all just farmers. Can’t make soldiers out of farmers, sir.”
“You’d be surprised, Corporal. I was a farmer…or rather, the son of a farmer,” replied the lieutenant with a knowing smile. He scratched absently at the beard on his chin. He would have to get around to shaving it…if he ever had time. He had been traveling all over Russia for the past two months, trying to get some boys out for the army, with very little success.
Corporal Zemelov looked out the window. “Hey, sir, looks like someone might be coming.”
Lieutenant Vladimir Dolefstoy rose to his feet and looked where Zemelov was pointing. A young boy was slowly walking toward the building, shivering in the cold. He had a thin shirt on, stretched over broad shoulders, and gray pants with patches over the right knee. His hair was brown and long, and his cheeks were flushed. “Now, if that boy don’t look like a farmer, I don’t know what does,” commented Zemelov.
“Shut that mouth, Corporal. You don’t want to scare the boy off.”
“Yes, sir.” Zemelov smiled. He and the Lieutenant were good friends, so the ‘sir’ was only a formality that they rarely used in private.
When the boy came in, the two men were ready for him. Dolefstoy retreated into the back room, leaving Zemelov to find out what the boy was really here for.
As soon as the boy walked in, Zemelov said sharply, “What are you here for, boy?”
The boy looked a little scared. “To join the army.” After a long pause, he added, “Sir.”
“ I’m not ‘sir’. I’m Corporal Zemelov. What’s your name, boy?”
“Nikolai Bekov.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” he lied easily.
Now came the most important question. “Why do you want to join the army, Bekov?”
“I’m tired of being a farmer. I wanna make something out of myself.”
“And how do you think you'll do that in the army?”
“I need money, so I can go to school. The army is the only way I can think to get away from my family.” Nikolai swallowed hard. This man couldn’t turn him away, could he?
“Okay, Bekov. You’re fine by me, but you’ll have to see if Lieutenant Dolefstoy thinks you’re suitable to join. I’m just a corporal, and I have no real power.”
“Of course. Where is Lieutenant Dolefstoy?”
“Right through there.” Zemelov pointed out the door and Nikolai walked into the other room. He saw a very tall, lean man leaning back in a seat. He had short black hair and what looked like brown or hazel eyes. He looked up at Nikolai as he walked in, and Nikolai immediately felt uncomfortable.
“What are you here for?”
At that point, Nikolai faltered, and almost walked out of the room. But something inside him gave him an extra boost of courage and he said, “Corporal Zemelov told me to come through here to see you.”
“Good. Why do you want to join the army?”
“To get away from home.”
“Are you a farmer?”
“Yes.” Nikolai thought that that was fairly obvious.
“Will your family starve if you were to leave?”
Once again, Nikolai almost lost his composure, but he clenched his jaw and said, “They will find some way to get food. After all, my father is still alive.”
“Okay, kid. Can you read… or write?”
“Nah. I’m a farmer, like I said. No need for book-learning…”
“Just what you need to live from day to day.”
“Yes.”
“Can you write your name?”
Nikolai shrugged. “I guess so.” After a long pause, he added, “If someone taught me how.”
Vladimir sighed, then reached into the desk and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Okay, kid, what’s your name?” This kid wouldn’t get anywhere if he couldn’t at least write his own name.
“Nikolai Sergeyevich Bekov.”
In block capitals, Vladimir printed it out. The kid looked at it in awe, and then glanced up at Vladimir. “Thank you.”
“Now you write it,” said Vladimir, holding out the pen.
Nikolai took it and copied what Vladimir had written in scrawling, childish capitals. As soon as he was finished, he scowled at it, disgusted at his own ineptitude. He scribbled it out, and then, frowning with concentration, wrote it again, trying his best to imitate Vladimir. The result was better than the previous time, but not by much. He sighed in frustration.
“Relax, soldier. This is the first time you’ve ever picked up a pen. You’ll do fine.”
“I can join the army?”
“Of course you can. I heard you tell Corporal Zemelov that you wanted to get an education. Was that just bullshit, or was it the real, honest truth?”
“The truth. I want to get a better life. I’m tired of being a farmer.”
“Fair enough, soldier. I’ll give you directions to the training camp…”
“I can’t read,” protested Nikolai.
“I know that. Consider this your first lesson.” Vladimir ripped a piece of paper from the pad and, in clear, large letters, wrote simple directions on it. He handed it to Nikolai, who took it and stared at it blankly.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” demanded Nikolai, now beginning to get annoyed.
“Don’t get angry with me, soldier,” said Vladimir calmly. “Those are very simple instructions. When should I tell the Captain running the place that you’ll be there?”
Nikolai frowned for a second, then smiled, and said, “Tomorrow.”
“But, soldier, you told me you couldn’t read.”
“I can’t. But…do you have a dictionary that I could borrow?”
Vladimir shook his head slowly. “A dictionary won’t teach you how to read, kid.”
Nikolai grinned. “I’ll figure it out.” He watched as the man opened the drawer and pulled out a thick, leather-bound book. Nikolai took it gently; it somehow felt wrong to be sitting in a farmer’s hands.
“Look, you can stay here tonight if you’d like, kid.”
“Yeah,” said Nikolai, walking in the direction that the man gestured. Inside the room was a cot and a desk with a wooden chair sitting in front of it. On the desk was a computer. Nikolai had never used them, but had seen them sometimes when he traveled with his father. He sat down in front of the computer, gazing at it in wonderment for a few minutes, but soon got over his excitement and settled back comfortably, the dictionary propped on his lap and the paper that Lieutenant Dolefstoy had given him on the pages of the open book.
It soon became clear that this was fruitless, as he didn’t know what sounds any of the letters made. He sat in annoyance for about twenty minutes, until he remembered that he did know what some of the letters sounded like. On the piece of paper, he wrote out his name. For about an hour, he worked out what sounds each of the letters made, and then went back to the dictionary. He tried to find familiar-looking words, and tried to sound them out, just trying to get a grip on what different letters and letter combinations sounded like. At around two in the morning, Nikolai figured that he knew vaguely what each letter sounded like.
So he returned to the paper that Lieutenant Dolefstoy had given him. Starting with the very first word, he sounded it out. He smiled, and moved on to the next word. Most of the words were ones that he easily recognized, and he soon became annoyed at its simplicity, now that he understood it. That was why it made him smile when he came upon a word that he did not know. He went to the dictionary and found the word. He couldn’t read its definition, either, which meant he spent the next forty minutes looking up the words in the definition. By around five, he had the whole set of instructions read. He smiled at himself and closed his eyes for what seemed like an instant.
The next thing he knew, Lieutenant Dolefstoy was standing over him and sunlight was streaming through the windows. “So, soldier,” said Dolefstoy. “How did the reading go last night?”
“Fine,” said Nikolai.
“Sir. Remember that word. If you forget it, well there are men that are not so lenient as I when soldiers forget to use it.”
“Well, sir, I do know that you tricked me. There’s no training camp; or at least not one that I can get to with any ease. It said that you would take me there.”
Dolefstoy was mildly shocked. He was surprised that this farmer would be able to pick up the basics of any language, even his native tongue, in one night. “Very good. Yes, I will take you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Dolefstoy watched as the boy stretched and woke himself up. He hardly looked the part of a soldier, and he was, from what Dolefstoy had seen, far too much of a dreamer to be a successful soldier. But this was only the boy’s way of getting out of home, and Dolefstoy figured that it might give the boy a little more life experience. If he wasn’t killed.
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