BABUSHKA BY FIONA CUMMINGS

BABUSHKA

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

CH 1

LOOKING BOTH WAYS

Her day started early as the heating in her room became unbearable but she knew that she would be grateful for the heat later on in her day. Already Sergei her Son was awake for work, he started working first shift in the Moscow underground. Her Grand Son Nikoli was sitting in the place he had to sit each morning one and a half hours before he went to the kindergarten for the morning, that place was where he would practice his piano over and over again whilst his little sister covered her ears in a nearby bed in her Grandmothers bedroom. A room that had no windows and could be mistaken for a large storage cupboard. Her daughter in law Lena, was a floor lady in a hotel right in the centre of Moscow and would return forty minutes after Sergei left for work, just in time to take Nikoli to Kindergarten and return weary to look after her little girl Nina who had just turned two.

 

Nadya was a quiet Grandmother who had seen tragedy in her life. She was in her early sixties, an yet had the appearance of another person of an age twenty years older than herself. Her Husband Vlad left her to bring up her two children, Sergei and Katarina. Katarina had found herself involved with a force not to be dealt with in the late seventies, so had not been in touch with her family for almost nine years now. No one knew where she was or moreover, who with? No one spoke of Katriona. She had a Son and he was mysteriously removed one summer at summer camp in the black sea. Again, a subject which wasn’t allowed to be spoken about, but added to the many scars of Nadya.

 

Breakfast time, Sergei had already left for work, Lena had not got in yet and Nadya made toasts and porridge for the children with weak black tea and jam.

 

The conversation wasn’t based around kid’s TV or what fun things the children were going to do that day, but sounds from the radio reverberated around the tiny two roomed flat with words of woe wisdom whatever you may wish to call it.   Some would say proper gander.

 

As soon as Lena came home, her tall majestic frame silhouetted the door frame as the children ran to greet her, she leant to the floor to equal the height of her tiny children. Asking Nikoli the same question she asked every day. “Moy malinki, have you practiced your piece on the piano? As she turned to little Nina, scooped her up and began to wrap her in layers of blankets and bundled her into a huge cart like pram, which though was bulky, was rather shallow inside. She pushed the pram with one hand outside along the gardens of the flats and with the other gloved hand she pulled Nikoli in his multi coloured slay, as they all headed off to Niks Kindergarten.

 

Meanwhile, Nadya readied herself to start her day of work. Sweeping and clearing the watery snow which fell in the streets of Leninsky Prospekt, near the Kaluzhsko Rizhskaya line where Sergei worked. The metro was built in 1962 with it’s beautiful white marble pillar’s and grey tiles and beautiful chandeliers which were rumoured that they were going to be changed into a more modern look of florescent lighting, Nadya was against this as it was her uncle who was one of the architects, Yuri Ydovin. She remembers taking her two children when they were in their mid-teens, to the opening of the metro and the children loved the stairs which went nowhere. That’s right, they were built but went nowhere! Or, did they?

 

Chapter 2

New Russians

 

As Nadya placed her headscarf on her head and put her gloves on which had seen better days, as had her worn out fingers cracked with the Russian winters, she dreaded the slippery walk to the trolleybus at the bottom of her avenue. Down in the caged lift, she left her hot building dimly lit hallway and into the bitter blazing blades of the dull December day. But as years passed Nadya, she watched from the streets of Moscow the changes. Changes in her opinion for the worst. Historic statues were being defaced by stars and stripes and what were once strong buildings were now glittering with brash advertisements and booming lighting, replacing goods of wood for mirrors, china and fine clothing. She watched the young ladies wearing the latest skimpy clothing as she shivered with thoughts of how cold the girls must be and the young boys sporting the latest watches and gadgets.

 

   People were changing, changing in a way that Nadya really didn’t like, though her past was full of mystery, it was a place where neighbours were friends and family were supportive and genuine.  Russia was a place of palaces protected from poverty and the people who surrounded them, and the diversity of apartments cracking crumbling and carrying people who were slaves to the Motherland.

 

So you had two kinds of people, keep yourself out of public attention and you were fine, sadly nadya’s daughter was one of worldly interests, curiosity Nadya feared, killed Katriona as for where her Son was right now? Only authorities knew of that and Nadya knew by asking would get not only her into trouble, but her remaining family too.

 

If there was a time machine which looked forwards as well as projected memories from old Russia, the difference between two cities as that is what it is like, two cities, two different types of people, further from each other than what ever could be thought possible, Nadya’s story would mirror so many families in the former Soviet Union and the now, new Russians.

© Fiona Cummings