Yes, Mama
Yes, Mama
“We interrupt this music program for an emergency broadcast. It is Friday September 23rd 1853. The United States of America has just bombed Moskou. Our Tsar, Alexander II Nikolajevitsj, has died. America demands our surrender. The Empire will strike back. Field Marshal Dmitry Alekseyevich Milyutin has declared war on the Americans. The creation of flying steamships is successful. The Empire will launch its counterattack. Enemies of the Empire beware”.
“Pavlov, turn off the radio.” It still scared her. A box that made the sound of many men, it could even sing. The Empire had experimented a very long time with steam engines. Who could have thought they would think of this? But it was nothing compared to the majestic golden flying ships. The Golden Eagles. Marishka had once worked for The Empire, she knew many things. Such as the scientist behind all of this magnificence, Dr. Kazimir Wanya Jeremiya. He had invented a magnificent steam engine that could operate almost anything. The Empire was prouder and stronger than ever.
But American spies had stolen his plans, they attacked with the technology they had stolen and killed the great Tsar. The Empire was furious. All Russians were furious. And all Marishka wanted was to be left out of all this. But unfortunately she knew too much and was the victim of many assassination attempts. Dr. Kazimir and Field Marshal Milyutin had ordered her protection. She was, after all, an important part of the scientific team of the Empire.
“Come, Pavlov.” It was time to move, again. She had just finished repairing her guard's mechanical arm. She still could not believe how fast they had advanced with the help of Dr. Kazimir, or as he had been nicknamed, Dr. Steam. Marishka had often thought their work went against God's wishes, but she could not stop a warring race to wage war all on her own.
“Yes, mama.” Pavlov said obediently. He was young, only nine winters old. But he was very mature for his age, not to mention that his intelligence far outreached that of many adults, if not most. Marishka had often feared he would follow in her footsteps. She hoped he would be smarter than she was and run away. Though she knew this to be a fairy tail and nothing more. But then again, ‘we now have flying ships and talking boxes’, she thought. So, you never know.
“We are to leave at once.” Nikolaj, their last surviving guard, grunted in his raspy voice. He was part of a special unit and was known only by Nikolaj. No past, no future. Only his duty. And his duty had already cost him both of his arms trying to protect Marishka and her son. He was rewarded with two new arms, mechanical steam arms that would shoot bullets and hide knives. Marishka had made them after she had received the blueprints from Dr. Steam. He was more dangerous than ever. Théy were more dangerous than ever.
“I said ‘at once’”, Nikolaj grunted again. Marishka knew better than to keep him waiting.
“Come, Pavlov”, she called out to her son again, reaching for his hand.
“Yes, mama”, the boy answered, happily as his fingers locked with his mother's.
They left the empty house they had taken behind, as empty as it had been when they found it. As all of the houses were around these parts. That is what war does. People run. People cower in fear. People die. And the leaders, they sit safe in their ivory towers and flying ships. Marishka had grown weary of war and death. She had enough of the colors red and black. Blood and ashes. All she wanted was for this war to end, for Pavlov to live as a child. To be free. But she knew better. The only way they would ever leave The Empire was without a heartbeat. And that is something she could not do to her son, though she often doubted if this was the right choice. Running from assassins in a warzone. Was this so much more responsible than to kill herself and her dear son? She asked herself this question every day, and every day Pavlov would smile up at her and she would think ‘yes, so long as he is alive. So long as he is with me’. They ran over burned corpses. Men, women, even children and their pets. All burned to ashes because their leaders had decided that they did not agree with one another. Because their leaders decided that war was the best course of action, the best solution. They died because their leaders were too afraid to die for their own beliefs.
“The United States of America has just bombed Moskou. Our Tsar, Alexander II Nikolajevitsj, has died”.
The radio broadcast popped in her head again. Marishka sighed, thinking; ‘I doubt he chose to die for his convictions. He died as all his people died. Why should I avenge a person like that?’ She felt her temper rise up, released Pavlov's hand to make a fist, and as soon as she did, Pavlov grabbed hold again and Marishka unclenched. “Thank you, my sweet Pavlov”, she said with the softest voice.
“Yes, mama.” he would answer, like a good boy.
“We are almost there. The steamship will pick us up near those mountains”, Nikolaj yelled out, several steps ahead of Marishka and her boy. There was no need to be quiet in this desolate place. No enemies to hide from. All were dust and ash.
“How far by foot?” she asked, screaming louder than she had intended, while tasting the ashes in the back of her throat.
“Twelve hours at most”, he yelled back. “But we must hurry. I heard gunshots”.
Nikolaj had just finished his sentence when a whistling sound came from above. “GET DOWN!” he screamed, his eyes widened. Marishka panicked but Pavlov grabbed her hand again, snapping her back to reality. She grabbed her son with both arms and hid next to a big rock. Nikolaj came running towards them and with a final jump he landed on top of them when a massive explosion went off not far from them. Dust everywhere, the smell of burned wood filled the air. Nikolaj moaned, a piece of a tree had hit him in the gut. Luckily for him he was already half machine.
“Your oil is leaking”, Marishka said, dryly. Surprising herself with her calmness. “We must burn the hole shut .. now! Quickly!”, Marishka urged her guardian when she noticed his stubbornness by trying to hide the wound.
“Just a scratch”, he winced.
Marishka ignored Nikolaj’ ego and instead noticed the pistol on his belt. “Remove the gunpowder from your bullets. We must melt the metal, fast”.
The stubborn man pushed her arm away, “We must find shelter .. first. Cave.. by river.. down .. fast”, he said, breathing heavily, and pointing over the rocky cliff they had used as shelter for the explosion. Marishka knew better now than to argue with this ‘pig-headed fool’, she thought as she grabbed the guard, supporting him. Pavlov took his mother’s hand and together they jumped over the cliff and into the still water down below. As soon as they hit the water Nikolaj grabbed both mother and son by the ankles and dragged them down to the bottom of the river before they could gasp for air. Marishka kicked at his head but missed, ‘I'm going to die like this?’, she thought, clawing for air. ‘Pavlov..’, Small fingers forked with hers, ‘Pavlov!’. Her son pointed down. When Marishka looked she saw Nikolaj gesturing to an underwater cave. She gave up the struggle and let the man drag her down as she lost consciousness.
Marishka woke up to the sounds of streaming water. “Pavlov..?”. Her head was still groggy.
“Yes, mama?”, the boy answered, hudling next to his mother. He looked tired, he must've sat with her this whole time. “Go to sleep, my boy. Rest up”.
“Yes, ma..”.
“No, time. Must leave. Now”, Nikolaj grunted under the pain of his wound. She didn't see him at first, sitting in the dark. He was sitting in a puddle of oil. “We must .. Goddamnit. Fix me. Then we leave”. He threw empty bullet shells her way, “Melt. Fix”, he grunted one last time before he stopped moving. “Nikolaj?”. Marishka tried to get up, a fierce piercing pain in her head. She looked at her vest where her head had laid until a few seconds ago. No blood, good. She thought. She lifted her arms, they were both sore, but she could move. She stood up, “Rest a little while mama fixes this sourpuss”, she told Pavlov.
“Yes, mama”, the boy answered as he laid down his head and fell asleep in seconds.
“Nikolaj, are you still with us?”. No answer came. She started to worry, what would they do without his help? “Nikolaj?”. She said, while moving closer. “Nikolaj?” She shook him, he gave a grunt. “Oh thank God, you're alive.” Quickly she picked up all the empty shells, grabbed a pot from her backpack and made a fire. The shells didn't need to melt, all they needed to do was loosen up so she could reshape them.
The mechanical parts for soldiers were designed in such a way that they could be fixed with bullet shells or even the metal from guns. It was an unclean fix and not a lasting one, but it was all a soldier had in a moment of crisis. And it was all they had now. It took her a long time, it seemed like hours, half a day even. She did not dare tell Nikolaj how long it took when he woke up.
“We must go”, were his first words upon awakening.
‘Predictable fool’, Marishka thought. “You must rest”, she told the stubborn guard.
“No. They will find us here. We must go” He repeated pigheadedly. “Give me my backpack, I have spare oil with me”. Marishka threw Nikolaj his backpack while waking up Pavlov. She always loved it when he would open his eyes, still sleepy. He woke up wide awake this time. She felt a kind of sadness. “I can change your mechanics so you don't have to use oil anymore”. She said, gazing into the distance.
“I like the smell. Makes me feel like home”. Nikolaj answered, somewhat absent as well.
“That's the first time you've told me something personal”, Marishka smiled.
“I might die soon”, he replied in a serious tone, with a grin added seconds later. “We must really ..”.
“Go. Yes, I know”, Marishka brushed the dirt from her son’s clothes and gave him a raw potato, she threw one at Nikolaj and took one for herself. “I'm sorry they're not cooked, I forgot I had them”.
“It's okay”, Nikolaj replied, “It is not my first raw potato. Do not worry about it”, he said stoically.
“Are you enjoying your pota..?”, Marishka wanted to ask her son, when she noticed the boy had empty hands. “Did you already finish, darling?”, she asked, a little shocked.
“Yes, mama”, the boy replied.
“Are you still hungry?”, she asked, glancing at her own potato.
“Yes, mama”, the boy answered again.
Marishka took two small bites from her raw potato and then handed it over to Pavlov. “Eat up, my love”, she said motherly.
“Yes, mama”, the boy repeated
.
Soon after, they left the cave. Climbing up into a different part of the underground burrow. There they would walk for almost a whole day, and then crawl for several more. Marishka feared they would never see daylight again when suddenly she could hear the wind whistling, and there it was, only two corners further and a ten minute crawl. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed, daylight, finally. It was glorious.
“Nikolaj, light!”, she yelled. He did not answer, she did not expect him to. Pavlov crawled out of the cave first, followed by his mother and then their stern guard. As soon as they were outside the smell of burned wood and corpses filled their noses again. Daylight was nowhere to be found, only clouds of ash, gray and black, with the occasional dust cloud turning into a dust twister. She was reminded quickly where they were, what they were up against, and what they were attempting to escape from. She felt odd when she longed to be back inside of the cave, but quickly shrugged the feeling off.
“Daylight”, Nikolaj scoffed. “Happy now? Let's go”, he grunted.
Days went by, weeks, a month. They moved from town to town. Foraging for food, oil and any parts they could use. They still hadn't reached their destination. Nikolaj seemed more unsure every passing day, Pavlov seemed stronger and more alive than ever. Marishka had grown thin and aged quite a bit. This way of life did not agree with her. She was used to pretty things, to be spoiled and rich and free. She thought of her childhood quite frequently now.
“There it is!”, Nikolaj shouted excitedly, which surprised Mariska. “There it is, it really is!”, he repeated, his eyes suddenly refilled with energy and courage. “Wait!”, he then said, his voice an octave lower. “There is something wrong”.
Marishka looked at their meeting place from the cliff they were standing on. It seemed like any other army base, it was supposed to be completely abandoned, and it was.
“What is it?” She asked, not seeing the problem. The base was there, no vehicles except the Golden Eagle they were supposed to meet up with a month ago. She restepped her thoughts, ‘except the Golden Eagle we were supposed to meet a month ago..’. Then realisation hit her clear as the dead land they were standing on. “The ship, it's still here”, she said.
“Yes”, Nikolaj answered, “They would never wait this long. Something is wrong. I was sure we would have to call in for a new ship, in fact, I was counting on it. This .. something is not right here”. His eyes had gone back to that of a beat dog.
“Nikolaj?”, Marishka asked, anxiously.
The soldier did not answer, he grabbed his binoculars and stared for minutes at the base. Finally he put down the binoculars and sighed, “Let's go”, he said.
They went down the hill, through a small forest and quickly arrived at the base. There was a cold chill here. Marishka grabbed Pavlov's hands, they were cold as ice. She rubbed them in hers and blew on them.
“What are you doing, mama?”, the boy asked.
“I'm making you warm, silly”, she smiled. He looked confused so she stopped, confused as well. Something seemed off. “Something seems off”, she said out loud.
“About your son?”, Nikolaj answered. “Yeah, he is very weird, this one”, the guard said.
“Weird!?” Marishka defended her son, loudly.
“I believe this was the first time I’ve heard him say anything other than ‘yes, mama’”. The guard said. “So, yeah. That’s very .. strange”, the soldier said rather bluntly. “I wouldn’t worry about it though. I was a pretty weird..”.
“What? No!”, Marishka said, almost angrily. “I’m talking about this place. Why would you even ..”.
“Calm down, lady. You were busy with your son, not looking at 'this place'.” He said, air quoting the last two words.
“I'm sorry, I..”.
“It's okay, let's go”, Nikolaj replied, tired and then picked up the pace, “We must go inside the Golden Eagle, it will be safer” he said, as he started to look around.
“Yes, safer, mama”, Pavlov said, joyfully.
They speedwalked and then ran towards the Golden Eagle and just as they were close enough to touch it Nikolaj stopped, held up his hand and signaled them to get down.
“What's wrong?”, Marishka asked in a whisper, worried.
“Bodies, everywhere. Can't you see them?”. Nikolaj’s eyes were wide, she thought he was losing his mind. “Look!”. He almost yelled, “There and there, and more over there. All .. piled up”.
Marishka lifted her head and looked at the place he pointed at last. She noticed a dark spot in the shadows, darker than the rest of the shadow. It looked big and wobbly, she couldn’t make out what it was. Marishka narrowed her eyes to get a better view, and then the true scenery hit her. She noticed a hand sticking out from the shadows, and then she noticed the pile of bodies it was sticking out from. Immediately Marishka shielded Pavlov’s eyes with her left hand, and used her right hand to keep herself from screaming. She did not want to, but her eyes moved back to the pile of bodies in the shadows on their own. Everything was more clear now, as if a light had been turned on just above the disfigured group of bodies. Their heads were cracked open and their eyes missing. Marishka's breath stocked for a second. Fear filled her mind, as Pavlov struggled himself free now that his mother was distracted.
“W..What happened here?”, she asked Nikolaj. But Nikolaj did not answer, she wanted to look in his eyes but she could not divert them from the pile of corpses. “Nikolaj?”, she asked. Without looking away. “Nikolaj?”, she asked again.
Then .. a crack, a slurp and a gushing sound. She wanted to shout, but her voice had gone mute, her hands began searching for Pavlov. Her eyes still fixated on the pile of bodies in the shadows. “N..Nikolaj, p..please?”, the young mother begged. But the guard did not answer. More awful slurping sounds came from his position, it sent shivers down Marishka's spine . Her heart began to race, her breathing fastened and her eyes widened. Fear overtook her, “Pavlov! Pavlov!”, she yelled out into the darkness, desperately searching with her hands, her eyes still fixed on the pile of bodies, as if it had hypnotised her.
“Yes, mama”, the boy suddenly answered from Nikolaj's position, “I'm right here” He said gleefully, and then he slurped again. Marishka was beyond terrified, her heart nearly jumped out of her throat. For the first time in minutes she was able to move her glance away from the bodies, she had to see her son, her little innocent boy. Marishka turned around and saw Pavlov bend over Nikolaj who laid on the ground. His head cracked open and one eye was missing. Pavlov smashed his finger into Nikolaj's other eye, pulled it out and slurped it in as if it were a spaghetti string with a meatball on the end.
“...No, Pavlov”, Marishka said, shocked. “No..”.
“Yes, mama”, the boy answered gleefully.
