Interlude
Tatiana: An ugly reminder
I was helping Maria and Anastasia make use of a pair of Papa’s long johns for their play without resorting to cutting them up and making them unusable again. As I contemplated the best way to keep Maria from tripping while wearing them, I heard a scream.
I rushed out of the parlor and bolted upstairs as I prayed that no one else heard and then prayed that I be the first to get back up to our room. But both Mama and Papa had been upstairs and they reached Olga first.
Mama was holding on to her, rocking her back and forth, barely holding up under her weight as she leaned into her. The look on Papa’s face was full of concern, but it showed no rage. That mask of his hadn’t cracked or fallen apart. That’s how I knew that I wasn’t too late.
As soon as Olga saw me, she let go of Mama and fell into my arms.
Mama sank down into the bed, hand pressed to her forehead. Coffee had become unobtainable and its lack caused her horrible headaches atop the tally of ailments she suffered day in and day out.
“I’m sorry,” Olga whispered as she pressed her wet cheek into my mine. “I had a waking dream. A terrible one.”
“A dream?” Mama said as she continued to rub at her temples.
Papa moved to take Olga into his arms, but she flinched away. I turned, placing my body between them and pulled her head closer into mine. “It’s all right. It was just a dream. You fell asleep, that’s all.”
I hated lying. I hated the deception. God forgive me, but it was necessary.
My own nightmares included Papa finding out that Olga had been raped. It would not only break him but I wasn’t sure what he would do. He’d swallowed his pride again and again. He’d taken the “demotion” to Colonel Romanov and “Citizen” Romanov. He’d merely nodded when the soldiers had voted to get rid of epaulets in order to establish a more egalitarian, soviet system. He had considered it a great dishonor, but despite his anger, he’d done the only thing he could—wear his civilian coat over his uniform shirts so that the epaulets would remain hidden. It was a bit of defiance, but one that did not endanger us. I wasn’t sure if his rage over Olga, if he’d known, could have been contained. So far, everything he’d done had been for Russia and to keep us safe.
Keeping us safe was the only thing he had left.
I’ll never forget the relief that washed over me when he merely nodded, accepting the explanation of a dream. He kissed Olga and helped Mama stand.
Shock followed relief as I stood there. As soon as the door closed behind them, Olga’s sobbing became a low, keening wail. Her pain washed over me and through me until I thought it would drown me. I shushed her, held her tight, told her it was going to be all right.
Eventually she let me lay her down and I found out why she remembered. Her courses had begun and the sight of blood had taken her back to that horrible night.
I wanted to do right by my dear sister and even then I had known that I could not. Such as it was, our family—and its safety—came first.
A tide of guilt washed over me as I exited the room and realized my relief at my parents’ willful blindness. I was grateful that they did not see, could not, would not.
I was grateful and I hated myself.