Anthony could still
remember the shiny pathway that led one following it to the Grand Citadel of
Stanislav-Andrei Markov on the bank of the River of Ob, West Siberian Plain. It
was spring 1977. She, Jo, Dave, and Mom, and Papa were taking a short trip to
the land of their Ancestors, The Soviet Union.
Even the 5-years old Ann
could understand the tension happening during their visit. Papa said that she
couldn't cry there or hug Mommy too tightly as usual... she should not trouble
everybody else. It was a very strange trip, since after they dropped themselves
out of Helsinki, Papa drove all of them inside a rotten-looking jeep for six days
in a row, and suddenly they arrived in a freezing, serene pine- wood where
there shaped a five hundred yards flat snowy space. A helicopter picked them
up, and a military-dressed stewardess,Anthony felt she would poison them no
matter how beautiful she might seemed, offered she who curled anxiously on her
brother's lap a cup of hot chocolate. She reluctantly gave it a little sip now
that Jo sipped it first.
When they arrived,
eventually she felt a little better. It turned out to be quite a spring down the
town they supposed to head. They stayed for one and a half month in a
building(she later knew it to be the Novosibirsk Legislative Provincial
Building) where she, Jo, and Dave played cricket every morning in its backyard.
Papa and Mommy always tried to smile but Ann, as well as her two brothers, knew
how worried they really were.
And it was so strange
that during the last three nights, Anthony kept on dreaming of this heavy
voice, calling her name down a foggy alley. Anthony, in this dream, followed
the voice and suddenly she arrived to a fog-shaded tall, big figure she could
not see his face.
But she knew the figure
was smiling at her.
On the forty-seventh
day, another military-uniformed one, this time a blonde, cold-eyed man guided
them heading towards this place... where the gate towards the main building was
shining beneath the spring sun. Jo was the one standing next to her little
steps, holding her left hand tightly. The guiding man, turned out to be leading
them towards a mighty citadel she always dreamed of to be castles Mom told her
in stories some nights before she slept when she was 3 years old. The story was
portraying Vassilisa The Brave, a name of a girl whose legend so famous her
uncle, Fadev, made it his daughter's name.
More military-guys
emerged and the five of them was guided to a high-ceiled, medium-sized chamber
where Papa and Mom busily signed some papers and documents. The bored little
Ann silently slipped her legs away and strolled around the surrounding alley
near the chamber. Luckily Jo saw her, and quickly followed her.
What's up Ann? You can't
trouble us, you see... Jo whispered in her ear. He raised her in his arms.
Jo... I heard a voice!
Ann whispered back.
That moment, they
arrived in a deserted alley with a wide, empty semi-dark creak with a broad
window importing a ray of sun light to the room. Jo smiled, shaking his head.
Oh, it must be Ann's another imaginary friend...
It's calling me, Jo,
from here!
Ann, we'd better get
back...
But as he turned his
body around, Ann frantically pulling his ear, Look Jo!
Jo turned back to the
wide empty creak. He was stunned.
A transparent figure of
an old, bearded man with an early 1900 Russian-style tux was beaming peacefully
towards... Ann. He waved his hand, and slowly melted within the morning ray of
sun-light.
For a moment neither he
or Ann spoke. Then slowly Jo turned his head upon his sister, who yawned. I
miss Mommy, Ann said while curling her head on his shoulder.
Silently the
still-shocked Jo walked with Ann in his arm, back to the chamber where Mom,
Dad, and Dave were still struggling with papers. Seemed that nobody noticed
that both of them were missing for a moment.
The family eagerly
packed their bags and headed home. To Nantucket.
In the airport in
Helsinki, Jo told Mom that Ann and he saw the mysterious old, transparent
figure. Mom told Dad, and he was beaming. So strange that the smile reminded Jo
of the old figure's .
That was your Great
Grandpa Dmitri, he patted his head. You know what, Jo... he finally accepted
us.
Jo casted his gaze upon
the bright blue sky that also shared by the Baltic Sea. He remembered all the
six days cruise in the jeep, the tension for one and a half months in the
building where they lived, the papers signed, their taken photograph in order
to validate their family's ownership to the tourism of the citadel.
So that was his Great
GrandDad Dmitri, the one who was notoriously known in their circle to be the
man who was disgraced by the marrying of Grandpa Ricardovich and their beloved
Grandma, Brendamilikan.
1 comment:
teteh ... salam kenal
aku dewi ar89
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