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Two Suns
Dmitry Narinskiy
Two Suns
Historical novel
© Dmitry Narinskiy, 2024
* * *
A pauper heart is flled with evil,Burnt and ground up.But our souls are mirrors:All refecting gold.A. BelyPart I
The Turbulent Years
Chapter 1: Return to the Poltava Region
«Is this truly the end? Is it an eternal farewell?» The enchanting dark-haired girl couldn't tear her gaze away from the window. For the first time in her life, the journey felt like a tragedy.
The renowned Kiev hills, adorned with golden-domed inclusions, vanished around the bend, already obscured by a gentle green haze. Farewell, Khreschatyk Street, with your cozy pastry shops and bookstores! Farewell, student debates and concerts featuring transient celebrities! Farewell to dreams and aspirations…
For some reason, memories of riding the funicular along her favorite Route 15, tracing the slope of Saint Volodymyr Hill, came flooding back. And then, how the electric carriage offered a breathtaking view of the picturesque slopes and the sprawling Podil below, nestled by the buildings of St. Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery.
A mundane rural existence awaited the girl. Was this truly what young Olga had envisioned when she entered the Higher Institute of Public Education, which was the amalgamation of the former Imperial University of St. Vladimir and the Higher Education Courses For Women!
Having escaped to the metropolis from the countryside, she immediately felt at home in Kiev. Despite the city's lingering echoes of the turbulent events of the past decade, it had sprung back to life. Vibrant and dynamic, filled with literary associations, theater and dance studios, cinema and circus – all, of course, brimming with innovation and experimentation. It seemed as if the city was inundated with young people, eager to transform the world, purging it of all the sordidness and darkness left by the tumultuous and dreadful post-revolutionary years. Suffering, uncertainty, and famine – what did those matters signify? A new life and a brilliant future lay ahead!
Seventeen-year-old Olga, replete with hope, journeyed towards her coveted Kiev, oblivious to the thorny path to knowledge that lay before her. Yet, in essence, nothing truly terrible had befallen her; such was the nature of time, casting its hardships upon all.
And then, out of the blue – expulsion! It was suddenly discovered that her older brother, Ivan Gurko, was a Yunker (the rank for a volunteer at military service in the Imperial Russian Army in 19th and 20th centuries) at the Grand Duke's Konstantin Konstantinovich Kiev Infantry Military School – an institution that had also graduated the notorious White Guard General A. Denikin. Ivan had enlisted in the Volunteer Army, defending Perekop from the assaults of the Red Cavalry, but beyond that, his fate remained unknown to his kin.
How did this information surface at the institute? Olga herself had never dabbled in politics. However, she had witnessed a great deal: the ever-changing flags at the small station, seeking refuge in the cellar from shelling and the intoxicated adherents of successive «authorities,» and her own mother, a resolute Cossack, succumbing to typhus within a matter of days.
The whirlwind of parties, ideologies, wars, and revolutions left her bewildered. Such were the thoughts of the girl. Yet, it turned out that these matters were of significance, even decisive, to others. The institutes had special commissions that identified students with unsuitable family backgrounds or socially-alien views. «Socially alien! I wonder if they themselves ever experienced hunger?»
At least she managed to secure a job referral. Her «appropriate» worker-peasant background aided her in that regard!
And there she was – almost back in her homeland. The Poltava Governorate, Lubensky Uyezd (District), and the quaint village of Lazirky. As Olga arrived at the small station, a cascade of childhood memories flashed before her eyes…
* * *Now she found herself in an ancient Cossack village perched on the lofty banks of the Sliporid River. The school consisted of merely two clay houses, modest mud huts for the younger and older pupils. The principal, a genial and elderly figure, greeted her warmly, saying, «Make yourself at home, my daughter. Get comfortable.» At first, the locals looked upon her with a hint of wariness (as is often the case in villages towards strangers), but overall, they were friendly, awaiting the arrival of an elementary school teacher for quite some time…
Olga prepared herself for the inevitable scrutiny and gossip, maintaining a poised and affable demeanor, with a touch of dignity. Judging by the welcoming glances, the community embraced the newcomer.
One young lad, with a short and sturdy physique, in particular, exhibited special favor. Olga had not paid much attention to the local boys upon her arrival, but this one seemed to appear near the school far too frequently. So often, in fact, that one day, when she encountered him at the gate, the teacher could not resist asking:
«Isn't it a little late for a first-grader?»
«I actually graduated school, Mrs. Gurko,» the boy replied nonchalantly.
«And what do you do now?» Olga pondered to herself, «Impressive, he even speaks well.»
«My father owns the mill, and that's where I work,» he answered.
The heir to the «flour-milling dynasty» was named Anton. When he escorted Olga home, he hesitated at the gate, bid her farewell, but then mustered the courage to say:
«We have dancing on Saturdays. You should come to our club.»
Olga was taken aback; this was unexpected. «You are quite bold,» she thought.
«You're always alone. You've been here for three months now, and you only go to and from school, to the store, and to the river,» he observed.
«Are you stalking me?!» Olga inquired cautiously, as she cherished her moments of solace by the river, indulging in girlish reveries. Witnessing eyes were not needed.
«No, I just happen to see you,» he responded, entirely unashamed.
«He certainly has a nerve,» Olga mused.
«So, I'll come by the day after tomorrow?»
«Please do, you're welcome.»
Olga was surprised by how readily she accepted the invitation. It was about time she embraced this new life. The evenings had been rather lackluster… «Well, perhaps I shall become a 'beautiful miller'…» she chuckled sadly, feeling that Kiev seemed more distant and unattainable than ever before.
Not even a month later, the situation began to take on more clarity. Olga was well aware of how swiftly news spread through the villages. Thus, she was not taken aback when Zoya, a local high school teacher, who had recently started at the Zemstvo school, requested a serious conversation.
Zoya informed her of a recent gang rampage in the vicinity. The most infamous incident was an attack on a train transporting expropriated grain. The raid was unsuccessful; the guards proved steadfast. However, a dozen Red Army soldiers and raiders lost their lives. While the instigators were apprehended, numerous others remained at large, suspected to have had a hand in the crime. Many people knew or suspected the identities of these accomplices, yet they kept their knowledge concealed.
«The miller Kravchuk certainly aided them, and his son Sasha was seen with the gang in Sotnyts'ke. He hasn't been in Lazirky since. Nobody has provided concrete evidence against them, but their house and mill were searched. To be fair, it seems they searched everyone,» Zoya disclosed in a hushed tone. «I mean, Anton didn't seem involved, but who can truly say? They say weapons were hidden at the mill.»
«People can be so imaginative,» Olga frowned, disliking such gossip.
«Don't be hasty,» the teacher took offense. «He's a sought-after suitor, well-to-do. But be aware that you might get ensnared like a chicken in a fox's mouth.»
«Zoya, did I say I was getting married?» Olga interjected and walked out of the classroom where the heart-to-heart conversation had taken place.
Truth be told, she had no intention of getting married just yet, even though Anton had already dropped unmistakable hints. Olga responded to the advances of the «sought-after suitor» with restraint. Still, it was not the life she had dreamed of, not in the least…
* * *It was spring once again. The March day gleamed with such brilliance that it almost dazzled Olga's eyes. The icicles hanging from the rooftops seemed like airborne splashes and sunlit bunnies, while the roosters joyously crowed at an ungodly hour. As she approached the school, Olga reflected on her nearly year-long tenure as a teacher, and everything seemed to be progressing well. Working with children brought her immense joy, witnessing their successes and growth. The students were naturally drawn to her serene and astute demeanor, and her undeniable beauty further captivated their attention. Respected by parents and cherished by her pupils, her professional life flourished. However, she dared not dwell on other aspects; it was best to let everything continue as it had been…
Yet, on this particular day, something felt off during the lesson. Her thoughts seemed scattered, and even while mechanically repeating the phrase, «The children are glad for spring,» she sensed the restlessness of her first-graders. Whispers and fidgeting filled the classroom. Their gazes fixated on the window, where the once frosty patterns had already thawed.
«What on earth did you see out there?!» Olga exclaimed, her curiosity piqued. She turned to look outside.
Approaching the school was a slender young man, dressed in a distinctly un-rural manner. Olga could hardly believe her eyes: it was Leonid!
Chapter 2: «Stationmaster»
Since as far back as he could remember, Leonid had always fallen asleep to the soothing sounds of rolling wheels. The rhythms of the railroad, the glimmering lights, and the steam locomotive's gentle hum mesmerized him. Vast expanses, uncharted lands, and unfamiliar bustling cities called out to him. It seemed that life without the railroad was unimaginable!
This sentiment was deeply rooted in the Mirachevsky family, as they frequently had to relocate due to the zealous work ethic of its patriarch, Mikhail Mirachevsky, an esteemed employee of the Kiev-Poltava railroad. Though their stations changed (currently being Solonytska), their apartments shifted, the railroad remained a constant presence.
Similarly steadfast were the household rules established by Olga Mirachevsky, the capable young mistress of the house. The position of assistant stationmaster demanded diligence and responsibility, and Mikhail entrusted the management of their home unconditionally to his wife. Despite being twenty years her senior, he guided her with affectionate tutelage, recognizing Olga's competence in handling any task. Under her watch, the house was always immaculate, and a delectable dinner awaited them each evening, complemented by a well-tended vegetable garden.
Their love for their son, Leonid, was not indulgent, yet neither were they excessively strict. The warmth of home and a sense of security was what they wholeheartedly provided him.
Mikhail was strict at work, but at home, he was kind, flexible, and exceedingly caring. With his son, he eagerly shared his knowledge and expertise during any free moment, as if keen to impart all he knew.
Fishing did not particularly captivate the young Leonid, but he delighted in crafting trains and animals from wood and clay. However, the most captivating moments were when his father began taking him along to inspect neighboring whistle-stops.
Leonid fondly recalled that spring day, shortly after Easter, when his father whispered the words at dawn:
«Rise and shine! We're in for an adventure!»
Devouring his breakfast, he eagerly inquired minute by minute:
«Where are we headed? What will we be doing?»
Mikhail smiled mysteriously, heightening the sense of anticipation. Only when his father placed him onto the waiting handcar did Leonid realize that a grand journey lay ahead.
His inaugural ride on the handcar was a marvel: the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, the spring breeze caressing his face, the trees flashing by, and the clouds racing across the high blue sky! It made him want to throw back his head and shout with unbridled joy, though the rush of emotions momentarily stifled his breath…
Leonid cherished his father's stories about road construction, about the challenges of laying tunnels and building embankments and bridges. To him, being a railroader was undoubtedly the most esteemed profession in the world!
And then, there were his mother's tales, whether true accounts or folklore, Leonid listened to them with rapt attention. It was no surprise that Olga always carried herself with grace. She proudly narrated the legacy of her great-grandfather, Arkady Shpirkan, who had served as the estate manager for Count Hercule Morkoff and was rumored to be the count's illegitimate son. Olga took pride in recounting how A. Suvorov himself acknowledged the Count's valor, and during Napoleon's invasion, he led the Moscow People's Militia and earned accolades for his role in the Battle of Borodino.
Arkady had even established an extensive garden and constructed a house on the Chervona farm in the Podolia Governorate, which became the Shpirkan family's cherished home.
Yet, Leonid was most intrigued by the contemporary events his mother shared. Olga's uncle, the intriguingly named Aristoky, had served as an assistant captain on the famous yacht «Shtandart,» and this granted him acquaintance with Tsar Nicholas II himself. To Leonid's astonishment, strict court protocols were abandoned on the yacht, and officers and sailors freely mingled with the royal family, even chatting with the grand duchesses. Aristoky had, in fact, had the privilege of dancing with them.
Leonid relished this particular anecdote, which revolved around the sailors donning Roman soldier armor for a theatrical performance. They were instructed to maintain stern expressions while looking at their commander. However, upon seeing the royal family seated opposite, they couldn't help but smile.
«What's wrong with that?» Leonid chuckled.
«Imagine! The play was unfolding with tragedy on the stage, the commander rallying them for battle, and there they were, smiling, glancing at the royal box,» Olga recounted with amusement.
Envisioning sailors in sandals staring at the Tsar And Tsarina, Leonid erupted in laughter.
As he understood it, Aristoky thoroughly enjoyed serving with the Sovereign Emperor.
But there was another uncle, Markel, of whom Olga spoke reluctantly and sparingly, and Leonid only learned the details later. Markel held contempt for the Tsar, viewing him as an oppressor of the working class, which led him down the path of revolution. He formed a circle, distributing revolutionary pamphlets among the gymnasium students in Kamianets-Podilskyi, raising funds for a printing press, and even managing to establish one. However, they still lacked the funds they needed. Consequently, Markel resorted to robbing the post office, resulting in injuries to a courier and a policeman. He was subsequently apprehendd, along with all members of the circle, and put on trial, an affair of national importance heard in Kiev. Markel was eventually sentenced to penal servitude, followed by exile to the distant region of Yakutia. Upon his return, he rekindled his involvement in the revolutionary cause.
«What a life!» Leonid marveled. «They've been to so many places and witnessed so much!» In his imagination, he pictured himself as a courageous captain weathering a storm or a pioneer in Siberia, much like Yermak Timofeyevich.
With such extraordinary ancestors, Leonid couldn't help but believe that fate had something equally extraordinary and fascinating in store for him!
* * *To tell the truth, Leonid's daily life also boasted plenty of extraordinary experiences. How many could claim to have bathed in a river with brackish water or luxuriated in the lake aptly named «Salty»? The village of Solonytsya itself seemed to announce its presence on saline soils. The local water bodies teemed with delectable fish, a true delicacy…
During the summer, the village children flocked to the lake with enthusiasm. Upon reaching its shores, they promptly shed their clothes and dove into the water, creating majestic fountains of splashes and savoring the brackish taste on their tongues. After their invigorating dip, they engaged in their cherished game «Chumatskiy Shliah,» (Chumaks' Route) a tribute to the ancient path to the Black Sea, once trodden by the salt-carrying Chumaks.
Alas, true salt marshes eluded this locale, but the boys delighted in discovering spots where salt crusts formed along the lake's edge, particularly during the heat. Their fervor knew no bounds as they diligently extracted salt grains, relishing the endeavor, and ultimately devouring their prized salt-infused rye bread with sheer delight!
* * *Upon completing elementary school, new adventures beckoned. In the village, there existed only a one-class public school – a zemstvo school, so for further education, Lubny, the district town, was their destination, merely a few versts (miles) away by train. The railroad assumed an even more prominent role in Leonid's life…
The jaunts on the train proved thoroughly enjoyable. Amidst exuberant banter and playful jostling, the boys hopped aboard the local train and reached their destination with infectious excitement. However, amidst the boisterousness, one girl stood out by her composure. Olga Gurko, who was familiar to Leonid, seemed to exude an air of calm majesty as she gracefully found her seat and settled in. It was on one fateful day that Leonid Mirachevsky took particular notice of her and saw her in a new light… As neighbors, their fathers worked together – Sergei Gurko served as a railway foreman at Solonytska station.
Perhaps, the pivotal moment occurred when Ivan Shramko, always in a hurry and making a ruckus, accidentally pushed Olga while boarding the train. She stumbled precariously, nearly losing her balance on the elevated steps. In the nick of time, Leonid reached out from above, clasping her under the arm:
«Hold on!» he exclaimed, chastising his comrade. «Ivan, what are you doing?!»
«I didn't mean to; it was an accident,» Ivan retorted in his characteristic manner. «In any case, she didn't fall, did she?»
«Thank you,» Olga responded with grace.
«And weren't you frightened?» Leonid inquired with genuine concern.
Her face illuminated with a serene, grateful smile. A smile that was undeniably beautiful…
From that moment onward, Leonid began to view his neighbor with newfound attentiveness, subtly assuming a protective role over her.
Chapter 3: The Great Catastrophe
Overnight, the world collapsed in an unexpected twist of events. Yet, at Solonytska station, nobody fully grasped the impending calamity, except, perhaps, Mikhail Mirachevsky. He had forewarned that if the war persisted, trouble would ensue.
Initially, the vast Russian Empire's entry into the war seemed remote from the daily life of a small Ukrainian village. However, soon farewells to future soldiers echoed in the huts, and excited boys eagerly shared news of their relatives conscripted to the frontlines, using the newly acquired term «mobilization.» Gradually, the once tranquil station of Solonytska was drawn into the tumultuous whirlwind of wartime. Trains laden with troops, supplies, and weapons arrived from the west, while those heading eastward brought refugees, wounded, and prisoners. Echelons piled up, not only at major hub stations but also, gradually, at smaller stations like Solonytska.
As autumn waned, Mikhail found himself toiling ceaselessly, working around the clock. Exhausted, he would return home, barely having time to exchange words with his son. While Olga maintained her composure, she grew increasingly anxious as managing the household became increasingly challenging due to shortages of familiar goods and even firewood.
* * *One fateful day, the boys hastened to the station upon hearing of a prolonged delay of a train carrying refugees. At first, their boisterous group strode confidently, feeling masters of their domain, but their excitement waned as they neared the wagons. Silently, they huddled closer, moved a little further away from the railroad tracks, nudging each other along, their remarks growing subdued until even the most vocal amongst them fell silent.
Their collective gaze fell upon a sight etched forever in their memories.
Haggard women with soot-blackened faces sat near the wagons, some cradling wailing infants, while older children huddled nearby. Suffering, fatigue, and fear of the unknown etched deep lines on the faces of ordinary people, compelled to abandon their homes due to war. For the boys, it was an eye-opening revelation of the true face of war, far removed from the headlines penned in newspapers…
Amidst conversations with the refugees, they learned that most hailed from the western provinces of Vistula Land. Curiously, the boys even managed to communicate with a group of their peers, finding no hostility in the strangers' expressions.
For a few moments, the two groups, the locals and the refugees, stood there, scrutinizing each other, until a young lad of about fourteen broke the silence with a question:
«Brothers! Do you have any bread? There's still a long way to go…»
Ivan, unable to resist, interjected with a jest, «Maybe we do. But not for you!»
«Wait a minute,» Leonid intervened. «Are you guys hungry?»
The bread beggar bashfully lowered his eyes, prompting Leonid to spring into action.
«Well, you wait here.»
They promptly returned with provisions – boiled potatoes, bread, dried apples, and cherries, and seeds.
They returned from the station with a sense of duty fulfilled, and the following day, they agreed to come again with provisions. The train was eventually allowed to proceed late into the night, heading toward Kharkov, where refugee reception centers awaited.
For eleven-year-old Leonid Mirachevsky, that day marked a turning point, crystallizing the significance of events unfolding around him, illuminating his parents' behavior, overheard adult conversations, and his own emotions.
* * *Yet, the true trials had only just begun. Alongside the influx of refugees, disease crept into the village.
When Mikhail fell ill, Olga forbade her son from going near him, sensing danger. Leonid yearned to be of help and pleaded.
«I can give him some water! Why can't I help more?»
Olga remained steadfast, and the doctor's diagnosis confirmed her worst fears – «typhus» sounded like a dreadful verdict. For two weeks, the patient battled in a feverish haze, but his weakened body, exhausted from months of arduous work and anxiety, struggled against the infection.
Days passed in a blur – funeral, wake, an influx of acquaintances and strangers, followed by the profound quietude of an empty house.
As Leonid sat there silently, his gaze fixed on his father's photograph adorning the dresser, vivid memories flashed before him – fishing on the Sula, attending fairs in Poltava, and the precious moments of learning from his father about steam locomotives. He couldn't fathom a world without his father – the man who had been his mentor, his hero. It seemed impossible that Mikhail would not return, strolling out of the kitchen to resume his daily routines…
