An Awkward Revolutionary - 11. Chapter XI

Previously:

Aleksander has come home from university to stay with his father Novel Vanya, on their small estate where Feliks, his uncle, is also living. Daniil Vinogradov accompanies Aleksander, he is the friend with whom Aleksander has shared his lodgings, he is an amateur artist and studying the history of art. Daniil is also a couple of years older than Aleksander and as he calls himself, is a free thinking man.

Aleksander discovers he has a half-brother, something he finds perfectly fine, although his father was not forthcoming with the revelation.

Feliks, Aleksander's uncle, has a rather unique, if not odd character, and Daniil and his uncle are a little antagonistic. They do not discuss Daniil's artwork at first, but that is another revelation! Aleksander discovers Daniil has engaged their two young stable lads in more than posing nude for his sketching. He tells Daniil about his uncle's libertine past which was almost his ruin.

Daniil pulls Aleksander deeper into his world, involving him in the games he plays, as a free thinker, with the stable lads and handsome young servant Milan.

Feliks warns his brother he believes Daniil is a bad influence and he does not appreciate the goings on of Daniil. An invite to visit their cousin Victor Frolov in Mamovsk serves to get Daniil and Aleksander away from the house

Aleksander has encounters in the provincial town which change his life. He meets Yulian whom Daniil denies is a friend and yet he appears to know him well. They visit a wrestling match organised by Spiridon and are introduced to the young wrestlers. Aleksander falls into bed with the handsome Anton and Misha.

An invitation to the Ball leads to making the acquaintance of Raisa Stepanova who insists they should visit her at her country residence. On his way home, Daniil takes Aleksander to the house of Raisa Stepanova. There is talk of malcontentment and even revolution in the air, but this rather bypasses Aleksander who meets and falls in love with Petya, Raisa Stepanova's younger brother.

Time presses, although it is not certain why, it would seem it might be because of a rumbling turmoil in the country. Aleksander accompanies Daniil home...

Chapter XI

Daniil peered through the window of the small carriage as the horses drew to a stop. Standing outside the large old house which he recognised only too well, was a tall, thin, grey haired man, wrapped in a coat and smoking a pipe. At a distance his father looked unchanged from the last time he had been home. He reached out and opened the door, descended from the carriage, as Yuriy Vinogradov took a few steps towards him, arms outstretched. As they met he embraced his son.

"Ah, my boy! It's good you are here."

His eyes were wet, not simply with the cold. Yuriy Vinogradov hugged his son to him before stepping back and looking him up and down.

"Give me a kiss then," he said.

Daniil kissed his father on both cheeks. Just then an old lady appeared on the front steps. She had heard the carriage arrive and all the commotion. Alisa Vinogradov cut a dignified figure in her elegant and refined long dress and fur shawl. She rushed up to Daniil and grabbed a hold of her son, planting wet kisses on his cheeks and holding his face with both hands, like one might do with a child.

"I can't believe it's him!" She exclaimed, turning her head to glance at her husband. "You've grown. So... handsome." She once more kissed his cheeks.

"Mother! Mother, that's enough," Daniil said, a little embarrassed by the outpouring of affection.

During all this time Aleksander had been standing still a short distance from Daniil watching the reunion unfold.

"Alisa," Daniil's father moved to her side. "Daniil has brought a guest." He nodded to Aleksander.

"Oh, yes. Forgive me. Come, come inside," she said, turning towards the house.

Once inside, standing in the hall, it's dark wood panels lending a sober tone to the interior, they stood a moment looking at each other.

"Let me introduce my fellow student and close friend, Aleksander Nikolaev," Daniil announced.

"Welcome," replied Yuriy Vinogradov. "I hope you will find our simple life here agreeable. This house," he looked around the hall, "is run like you would expect of an old military man on a small pension."

Aleksander followed Daniil's father, looking about them, but he saw no difference, apart from the style and decoration, between this house and that of his own father at Ryavda.

"I'm so happy to make your acquaintance," Yuriy Vinogradov told Aleksander. "Come gentlemen, let us go into my study."

They followed Daniil's father into the study. The room was furnished with desk and armchairs, a large potted plant in one corner by the window, standing on a dark wood carved pedestal. Behind the desk were shelves full of heavily bound books, looking like the volumes of encyclepedia, which they were, but included a large collection of medical books.

"Well father, how is everything?" Daniil asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs.

"Please," Yuriy Vinogradov addressed Aleksander, indicating another of the armchairs.

"Your mother has been desperate to see you," his father told Daniil.

"Oh father, you know it has not been that long."

His father looked at him rather strongly. "Almost a year," he replied, flatly as if he were commenting on the weather without a particular interest.

"And the estate?" Daniil changed topics.

"I have had to give the land to the labourers. Rented, of course."

"Rented?"

"Yes, fifty percent of the harvest is for us. The same with the animals, half and half. It really was the only choice."

"I see," Daniil said, asking himself what the mood of the workers must be.

"I heard there was trouble in the east and I wish to avoid any such thing."

The trouble in the east Daniil already knew about. The moment was rapidly approaching for a change, but although this was an eventuality he supported, wanted to bring about, it was from a certain perspective. He did not want a peasant revolution anymore than did his father, it seemed.

"Yes, I heard that news too. I think you acted wisely."

His father smiled. He was as pleased to see his son, as was Daniil's mother.

"We will accommodate your friend, Aleksander Nikolaev isn't it?"

Aleksander who had said nothing during the conversation nodded. "Yes, sir."

"We shall give you the room in the wing where the bathhouse is."

Daniil glanced at his father.

"You have a wing?" Aleksander asked.

"Yes of course," Yuriy Vinogradov replied, and Daniil smiled.

The room allocated to Aleksander was actually the changing room for the bathhouse. Daniil's father gave the impression that he lived in a mansion when it was in fact a very modest house with few rooms.

"Fedir will take care of you. If you need anything."

Daniil smiled to himself, he had not forgotten the servant.

Alisa Vinogradov entered the study and stood within the doorway looking at Daniil. "Supper is ready," she announced.

This was a rather splendid meal, delicious, and somewhat of a surprise to Aleksander. "You have a very fine cook," he commented, which greatly pleased Yuriy Vinogradov, who smiled broadly and laid both his hands on the table.

"We are not entirely without refinement," he joked, to which Aleksander returned the smile.

Throughout the meal conversation had been about nothing of great importance or interest. Aleksander had replied when addressed directly, Daniil's mother had mostly never taken her eyes from her son, and what conversation there was, was between Daniil and his father.

Tired from the journey they retired early and the servant Fedir showed Aleksander to his room. Fedir was a slim, comely youth, with short cropped hair and wearing a dark blue tunic, a little worn here and there.

When Daniil went to leave them Aleksander bade him goodnight and added, "I am glad you allowed me to accompany you to your home."

Daniil smiled and left Aleksander with the boy who showed him his room.

"I sleep just here," Fedir said, indicating a small curtained corner of the room by the door. Aleksander glimpsed what looked like a straw mattress on the floor.

Daniil lay on his bed in the familiar room, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. After some time obsessed by numerous thoughts running through his head, he got up. He went quietly along the hall to Aleksander's room. Carefully opening the door he peered across the room holding up the oil lamp to illuminate the darkness. Aleksander was across on the other side, sleeping soundly, his breathing soft and even in the quiet of the night. Daniil pulled open the curtain where Fedir was sleeping. He bent down and shook the boy awake.

"Shush! Be quiet," he said, as Fedir sat up from the mattress. "Come!" Daniil took hold of his arm and pulled him up.

Fedir followed Daniil back along the hall.

They stood facing each other in Daniil's bedroom. "You have grown in a year," Daniil smiled. Fedir made no reply, he was still half-asleep, standing in the middle of the room in his old nightshirt.

"You have not forgotten me," Daniil put the oil lamp down on the bedside table. Turning back to Fedir he said, "Take that off."

The youth had not forgotten his master's son. He pulled off the nightshirt and stood still shivering in the cold night air.

Daniil nodded towards the bed. "Get in," he said, and Fedir obeyed, climbing in between the sheets.

"Did you sleep well?" Daniil asked Aleksander over breakfast.

Fedir stood by the somovar making tea. He was dressed in the same faded dark blue tunic.

"Yes, thank you. And did you?"

"Indeed," Daniil replied, his eyes glancing over at Fedir.

At that moment Daniil's father entered the room and the conversation turned to a discussion of farming and rural life, the mundanities of which held little interest for Daniil. He determined he would stay no longer than a minimum of time at home and perhaps he would return to Ryavda with Aleksander.

Before they finished breakfast, rather late in the morning, because they had been a long time engaged in conversation with Daniil's father, Alisa Vinogradov joined them. She fawned over her son and fussed around him like a mother doting on a young infant. Even Aleksander could appreciate how rather overbearing Daniil's mother was.

"Perhaps you might show me around?" Aleksander asked Daniil.

Offered an excuse to finally withdraw, Daniil did not hesitate for one moment. "But of course, dear friend," he replied, with an exagerated tone, trying to disguise his relief and not to offend his parents. Despite his irritation at being there, having put off his return as long as possible, he was aware he had certain obligations.

As they walked about the small estate, wrapped up in their heavy long coats, Daniil breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't misinterpret what I am saying, I love my parents, but this place is suffocating."

He stopped to pull out his pipe from one of the deep pockets, fill it, tap down the tobacco, and light it.

Aleksander waited in silence. He looked across to the distance, over the sparkling white fields. His breath vaporized its moisture in the cold air, and Daniil's pipe sent little puffs of smoke to join the clouds.

"You cannot be completely unhappy with being home," Aleksander finally broke the silence.

"No, not completely." Daniil said nothing more, but his mind conjured a vision of young Fedir.

They walked on together several paces. "We must visit Yefrem Kiselev," Daniil told Aleksander. "My old friend and mentor. I mentioned him."

"Yes, I remember. But you have only just arrived."

Daniil sighed. "Yes, yes!" He said rather irritated at being reminded of the obvious, the position he found himself in, his obligations. "There are important affairs going on and one cannot wholly occupy oneself with family in times like these."

Although, no doubt, Daniil considered himself discreet, the regard he showed to Fedir had not gone unnoticed by Aleksander. If Daniil's parents were unaware, he certainly was not. There was this strange contradictory nature to his friend. Aleksander had slowly come to realise how his own nature was similar to Daniil's, and yet not at all the same. Contradictions ran deeply through each young man.

"What important affairs might you be referring to?" he asked Daniil.

"That will become clear when we have the opportunity to talk with Yefrem Kiselev."

Yuriy Vinogradov insisted on showing Aleksander the house, which would have taken little time, it being rather small, had not he stopped at his study and begun talking at length.

Aleksander took in the things he had not noticed before. Turkish rifles, whips, a sabre, and a couple of maps. A leather couch, in places worn through and torn, standing between two huge cupboards of Karelian birch.

"We live here like an army camp," Daniil's father glanced around the study. "I am sorry for the chaos."

"Do stop apologising, father. Aleksander is not at all put out by how we live. It is not in his nature."

"Yes, well... good." Yuriy Vinogradov pondered his son's remark without actually believing him.

Aleksander walked around the shelves, looking at the books. "A wonderful collection," he said.

"Umm... " was the response from Yuriy Vinogradov. "Well, I shall leave you two, I have no doubt bored you. If you wish to use my study Daniil," he turned to his son, "please do so."

He then left the room, his footsteps retreating back along the hall.

"He's a peculiar old chap," Daniil said, after he was gone.

"It was nice of him to hand you his study," Aleksander remarked.

"That, my friend, is only a means to keep me here. A bribe."

They did not stay in the study, but toured more of the estate. Daniil saying, he needed some air. Aleksander wondered about Daniil and his relationship with his parents. Both his mother and father appeared to dote over him, but there was nothing returned by Daniil. He had come to realise that his companion was in some ways a little selfish.

Over dinner that night there were lengthy discussions about workers and the problems of running an estate. The conversation veered into politics and what might happen, but generally the reality of the situation was glossed over. At least that was Daniil's opinion as he remarked to Aleksander before retiring for the night.

"Nothing will change here," he said. "Not with old school folk like my father. No matter how much he might like to view himself as progressive. And my mother, she simple follows him and fawns over him. Exactly as she does with me. It quickly becomes overwhelming."

Aleksander considered Daniil's view point a little harsh, even if he was correct. He made no reply, only saying goodnight and leaving Daniil to go to bed. The day had been exhausting. Not the kind of physical exhaustion that comes with a long journey, but the mental fatigue brought on by listening to long conversations.