Diary of a Wimpy Czarovitch

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Diary of a Wimpy Czarovitch Page 13

by JG Hampton

be if you'd done your duty; I feel in my heart that this marriage was never meant to be" Mama, looked surprised, but I heard her mention what Annya said to Papa and his eyes popped nearly out of his head as a sign of relief. I know that my parents both want to forgive Olga's stubbornness. -

  In a few days it is Tatiana’s seventeenth birthday and she is hoping that her family remembers her happy day following the disaster in Rumania. I have made her a tiny set of shadow puppets, one representing each of us which she should find amusing. I have written a funny story to go along with them. She has not been nearly as bossy as she usually is since Olga’s disastrous broken engagement.

  22 May 1914, 4 June 1914 - Sailing on the Standart always lifts everyone’s spirits, but nobody’s smiling today despite the beautiful weather. Olga remains silent and distant and Papa smokes one cigarette after another and reads his dispatches and I notice that his eye is twitching, a sure sign that he is vexed. Mama embroiders silently in her white wicker deck chair next to Auntie Anya and sighs loudly every few minutes. Marie is writing to Grandmama, for whom she’s named, and telling her about what happened in Rumania because she knows that Grandmama is dying to know so she can gossip about it with her friends. I’m lining up my lead soldiers and bombing them with my canon and then performing burials at sea.

  Anastasia has put on some cheery music and roller skates around the deck crashing into everyone which makes me laugh. I can’t help it. Thank heavens for Anastasia. She’ll see that soon things are back to normal.

  No one would believe that it is Tatiana's birthday because most of the adults are acting as if someone died. However, our trusty cook prepared a celebration feast for Mama and Tatiana who both celebrate summer birthdays. Mama usually has a lavish quiet family dinner, but auburn haired Tatiana is turning seventeen and the occasion at least needs to be noted; Mama needs to arise to the occasion.

  Cook has come through for the Romanovs once more, she baked a three tiered cake with whip cream and custard filling topped with fresh berries and created a buffet with Tatiana's favorite dishes. After dinner, Tatiana received her diamond from Mama and Papa and now she has enough diamonds to complete her necklace for her coming out ball which is overdue that will take place here or in St. Petersburg in November if all goes well, if the country remains stabl and the strikes stop..

  Papa wore his gray blue shirt, the exact color of his eyes, which my sisters had all helped embroider and sew for him which he received from them on his birthday.

  Joyfully he donned it prancing about saying: "I was jealous of all of the handmade shirts that Father Grigory received and was wondering when it would be my turn to get a few. Many thanks for your efforts my darlings and remembering your proud Papa. I'll gladly show off your talents with the needle telling everyone that my daughters made this." said Papa fingering the fine fabric before making a charming wink in my sisters direction. Papa has already forgiven his darling Olga. Perhaps he, too is relieved even more than I am that she will not be leaving our family circle. Papa was so happy he danced for us the Ukrainian dance that he learned last time he was at Stavka, military headquarters. Looking like an elite Russian peasant more than the Czar of all the Russias, he entertained all of us as we clapped to the beat of the lively music. As he danced, it seemed as if the weight of the world fell from his shoulders.

  23 May 1914, 5 June 1914 – We've arrived at our beautiful palace in the Crimea again. Mama has her birthday coming up. She thinks that gifts from the heart are more valuable than costly diamonds unlike our picky Grandmama so we are trying to oblige her. Anastasia is making a beautiful corsage for Mama out of pink baby rosebuds and daisies from the garden and scraps of ribbon and lace. I have made a card for her which reads: Mama-- dearer to me than any other, you’re precious because you’re my mother. With love, from Alexei, l’infant terrible. I designed it so that a large heart pops up when Mama opens the card. I chose to use French which is the language of love so I've heard which should please her. I found a beautiful seashell on the beach which I’m going to give to her. My sisters have all been practicing their piano duets and have written her some poetry.

  I love the beach and dug for clams and built an immense sand castle filling my red and white striped swimsuit with sand making Anastasia and Mama laugh. Mama stayed under a canopy, but Papa and I gamboled about soaking up the sun storing it for the bleak winter days in the future. My dog Joy and I romped around and I taught her how to fetch and how to shake hands. She's not as smart as Mama's dog, Eira, but she's not nearly as cantankerous either, I've never seen her nip at anyone and she loves being in the water as much as I do. I love her and know that she loves me. Can dogs smile? I swear that Joy smiles at me when I throw her stick and call her name. What a talented spaniel.

  Papa made a large bonfire for us on the beach and we toasted sausages and had slices of cheese for dinner with toasted bread, butter and baked savory clams in sea weed. The stars never looked as large before and the moon glowed like one of Mama's large pearls. Papa showed me how to find the North Star, Orion, and we saw several shooting stars. We stayed up singing until the fire died and then we went to sleep under our nets in the palace.

  24 May 1914, 8 June 1914 - Papa played tennis with Xandro. Grandmama who has her own mansion not far from our palace came to watch the game sitting under a large parasol so that she could catch up on the scuttle but about what her sons, their wives Xenia and Alexandra, and various offspring were up to. I sat nearby in my sailor suit painting her portrait in watercolor, but she was less than pleased with the likeness. Anastasia said sarcastically pointing to my portrait with her plump finger saying: "But Grandmama, what big eyes you have. But Grandmama, what big teeth you have." As if she were telling the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. This made Grandmama and I both laugh. In retrospect, her eyes and teeth did look rather wolfish and so did the smirk I'd painted on her face, but I'm determined to improve. Everyone but Mama dined at Grandmother's house for tea in the afternoon. Mama was having one of her headaches.

  25 May 1914, 7 June 1914 – Mama’s birthday was today and we had a celebration dinner. Mama loved my card and sea shell and she wore Anastasia’s beautiful corsage. Papa gave her an exquisite jeweled brooch and Tatiana and Olga combed her hair and put it in a new style complete with new ivory hair combs they had decorated for her with tiny seashells. Marie had hand painted her a paper fan. Mama and Olga had a peace truce for the day. Nothing was to mar Mama’s perfect day.

  Papa gave Mama a heart shaped brooch with three diamonds dangling from platinum chains made by Monsieur Faberge which brought tears to Mama's eyes as well as Olga's.

  "Mama, I want a love like you and Papa share."

  "Olga, our love cannot be duplicated, but I hope that you find love daughter."

  Mama said that she felt like a young girl again, but she can’t fool me, I know that she’s unwell because of her enlarged heart; otherwise she would have played tennis with Papa; she wants to see Father Grigory again or does she just want to consult him about my health and future? Who can really say? But I am feeling fit as a fiddle now that I'm here on the beach feeling almost as if I have escaped my bedroom prison which I have.

  Today, I let my pet hermit crab go in the water that I had rescued from my dog Joy’s teeth. Papa says that it would only die if I brought it with me. I know that he’s right, but it was hard to set it free.

  26 May 1914, 6 June 1914 – We boarded the train and began the journey back north to Tsarkoe Selo. For some reason, I didn’t want to say goodbye to Livadia. We’d had such a happy, carefree holiday and I refused to turn my head and look back. Papa and Mama have promised my sisters a ball when we returned to St. Petersburg in November provided that everyone's health remains stable. The train seemed to go even slower on the way north. My leg begins to ache, but I won’t mention it to Mama, because I’m her brave sufferer. I’ve grown two inches taller recently. I’m shooting up like stalk of corn; I just know that I’m going to be
a tall czar. Will I be as tall as Peter the Great? That is my fond wish.

  I've brought my water colors and my Auntie Olga is giving us an art lesson. She's a genuine artist and if she wasn't a Grand Duchess, I'm certain that she could make a living selling her paintings. Perhaps she does so under a pseudonym anyway. Her pictures disappear off the walls of her townhouse. Where do they go? She painted a magical picture of my sisters as sea nymphs. I treasure it and have begged her to make me a gift of it for Christmas. Auntie only replied vaguely like Mama does many times: "We'll see-which means no more often than not."

  I will remember this holiday always as I bid farewell to beautiful Livadia. Our carefree days will long be treasured in my heart. Do turbulent days lie ahead? My tutors read the newspapers and so does Mama, but then she burns them because they are full of strikes and strife. I cannot help but gaze wistfully from the end of the platform on the train.

  We boarded the train very early so that we might take advantage of the cool air in the morning. I was very sleepy and dozed for the first few hours on the train leaning against my Mama's soft shoulder.

  Slowly, I woke

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