Gone by Nightfall

by Dee Garretson

“I came to see if there was actually some sort of schedule again. We’re going to go to my stepfather’s dacha in the country.”

  His expression turned serious. “I’m surprised you aren’t thinking of leaving the country altogether. Most of the other foreigners are.”

  “We aren’t leaving. This is our home. Russians aren’t running away. We’re not going to either.”

  “Think about it. Like I said, things may get very ugly.”

  An incoming train whistle blew, cutting off any more conversation. People began to surge toward the tracks. “We still need to talk about the ballet!” Carter called as some people cut between us.

  I waved at him, thinking that someday I’d like to read something he wrote.

  I almost went home, but since I was so close to the hospital, I decided to check on it. I’d seen a note from Dr. Rushailo that the work boarding up the windows and the front door had been done, and Papa had told me he’d paid the bill. We hadn’t talked about how to clean up the mess inside. I’d missed the routine of going to the hospital each day and doing work that seemed important. Maybe I’d overreacted to the destruction. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought.

  The kitchen door hadn’t been damaged, so I went around to the back and reached for the light switch as I came in, hoping the electricity was still on. When the lights blazed on, I almost turned them back off. It was as bad as I remembered.

  The first time I’d been in, I’d seen that the office had been ransacked and there were papers everywhere. When I went to look at it again, a feeling came over me that I needed to do something, anything, to bring some order back to it.

  The desk and the chair were gone as well as the lockbox, but they’d left the file cabinets.

  I spent the next several hours doing the best I could to pick up the papers and put the records in order. I knew it probably didn’t matter, that Dr. Rushailo could get by without the patient records, but it felt good to work there in the quiet actually accomplishing something. I was glad that the office had no windows, so none of the papers had been damaged by snow coming in.

  I lost track of time and stopped only when my stomach rumbled so much I knew I had to eat something, or I’d find it hard to walk home. The pantry was empty except for one jar of apricot jam on the top shelf that someone had apparently overlooked. I opened the jar and ate it with the end of a broken wooden spoon.

  When I finished, I looked out the kitchen window and saw that it was snowing heavily. The wind whistled through the boards on the front of the building and I could feel the cold seeping in. It was time to go home. I got my coat from the office and took it into the kitchen. As I was putting it on, the electricity went out.

  Definitely time to go home. When I opened the back door, snow that had been building up against it fell inside, and I realized it must have been snowing for hours.

  Out in the square, the snow was so heavy I could only see a few feet in front of me. If there was anyone else out, I couldn’t see them. All the buildings were dark, and since the streetlights weren’t lit, I realized that the power outage covered the whole area. I began to wish I had gone home from the train station instead of coming to the hospital.

  Since no one had been clearing the snow from the streets, people had made narrow paths through them, like deer trails in the woods. I told myself it would be just like taking a hike as I headed down one that led in the right direction. All too soon it disappeared. Not enough people had been out on the streets to keep it visible.

  I trudged on and on, the cold creeping farther inside me with each step. The snow was falling in big clumps, and I had to keep brushing it from my face. My teeth began to chatter and I pulled the collar of my coat up around my face, but it didn’t help. I tried to think how nice it would be when I got home, but I couldn’t hold a picture of home in my head. I couldn’t think of anything but cold.

  I almost turned around to go back, but then decided I had to be closer to home than to the hospital. It was hard work wading through the heavy snow, and eventually it became hard to catch my breath. My chest hurt with each freezing bit of air I took in.

  I stopped to rest, but as I looked around, nothing seemed familiar. I didn’t recognize any of the buildings, and a dread grew in me that I’d somehow taken a wrong turn. With the heavy snowfall and the darkness, I couldn’t see any street signs.

  “Hello!” I yelled.

  No one answered. I couldn’t be lost. The idea was ridiculous. I thought I knew every street in the city. Even more ridiculous was being in one of the most sophisticated cities in the world, but lost in the dark, because too many people were too busy arguing about politics instead of figuring out how to keep the lights on.

  My eyes teared up from the cold, and the tears froze on my eyelashes. I forced myself to keep going, hoping I could see a light through a window somewhere to get someone to let me in. There were faint glimmers of candlelight in upper windows, but the shops on the ground level were all shut up and dark. I found one door that I was sure led to apartments above the shops and pounded on it, hoping it would have a dvornik who could let me in. No one answered.

  When I turned back to start for home again, a snow-covered figure loomed in front of me. I screamed and backed up against the door.

  “Charlotte! It’s me, Dmitri. It’s all right.”

  I flung myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, startling both of us and nearly knocking him over.

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked, taking a step back.

  “Looking for you. A curfew has been put in place and the patrols are arresting anyone they see, though the snow has gotten so much heavier I’m not sure they are still out on the streets. I was worried about you. Yermak took your stepfather somewhere hours ago, so I couldn’t get him to bring me to find you.” He looked more closely at me and then touched my nose. “You’re freezing. We’ve got to get you off the streets. I know somewhere close by. Are you all right to walk a little farther?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I hope it’s close.” We didn’t speak again as the wind picked up and the snow whirled around us.

  I followed him, finding it easier to walk with him blocking some of the wind. We finally stopped in front of a vast house that was completely dark. It was even bigger than my stepfather’s house.

  Dmitri pulled out a key, and I realized where we were.

  “Is this your great-uncle’s house?”

  “Yes, though I suppose I should say it’s my house now.”

  Dmitri had to push hard on the enormous door, and when it creaked open, I followed him inside to a darkness so complete I couldn’t make out anything. I could feel Dmitri’s presence more than see him, even though he stood right next to me.

  “I’ll get a candle,” he said. “You should stay here until we can see better.”

  I heard him move to my right, and a few seconds later a candle flickered and then caught.

  He came back to me and held the candle up. I saw him frown. “You don’t look like yourself. We need to get you warm. This way.”

  We walked down a hall past a few rooms. From what little light the candle gave off, I saw large, dark shapes that I thought were probably furniture covered in dust sheets.

  “In here.”

  I followed him into a small room and waited while he set the candle down and lit another. The room was furnished like a combination of a study and a sitting room. Bookshelves lined one wall. A sofa and a couple of comfortable-looking chairs sat in front of the stove, and a small desk in the corner was crowded with pictures and other items.

  “It will warm up soon,” Dmitri said as he lit the fire.

  I was shivering so much I had trouble unbuttoning my coat. Dmitri helped me get it off and then took my hands between his. His hands were so warm, I started to get some feeling back in mine.

  “Let’s sit,” he said, and led me over to the sofa. Once we sat down, he continued to rub my hands. I felt a little dizzy; I didn’t know whether it was from tiredness or from
being so close to him. He was concentrating on my hands, and I felt awkward, like I should say something.

  “This is a nice room,” I said, realizing that wasn’t much in the way of scintillating conversation. It actually was a nice room, though. It had the feeling of a place where a person would go after a long day, to sit in front of the fire and forget.

  Dmitri looked up at me and smiled. My heart did a little skip. “My great-uncle let me have this space to do what I wanted with it, so I put some of the belongings from my parents’ house here. I would have shut up the house completely after he went to Paris, but the housekeeper wanted to stay. I stop in every day to make sure she’s all right, but I wish I could find someplace else for her.”

  He stood up and I felt some of the chill come back inside me. “Are you all right if I leave you for a moment?” he asked. “I need to let Tatiana know we’re here so she won’t think someone is breaking in. It will just take me a minute.”

  I nodded, and after he left, I sat for a moment and then got back up. I was too curious not to explore, so I took one of the candles and made my way around the room. I went over to the desk and picked up a picture in a silver frame. I knew right away which of the two boys in the family portrait was Dmitri. The other brother had a much wider face and lighter hair. I could see how Dmitri resembled his father, though the man appeared to be taller and broader than Dmitri was now.

  Dmitri’s mother wasn’t what people would consider conventionally pretty. Her face was too long and her nose was big, but she looked interesting. When I studied Dmitri’s sister, I saw she was a younger version of Dmitri’s mother. I wondered how often Dmitri looked at the picture.

  I heard footsteps in the hall, so I set the picture back down. I didn’t want Dmitri to think I’d been snooping.

  He came back carrying a tray and a blanket draped over one arm. “Tatiana insisted I bring food when I said I had a friend with me. You’re probably hungry.”

  I was and my mouth began to water as I caught the scent of what I thought might be pirozhki. I caught myself before I reached for one. “Does the housekeeper have enough for herself?” I asked. “I don’t want her to go hungry because of us.”

  He chuckled. “Food is the one thing Tatiana does have. She’s been here so long she knows all the servants on the block, and they bring her food because she treats their ailments. She’s always been good at diagnosing what’s wrong with someone, and she won’t take payment, so they leave food for her by the kitchen door.”

  He set the tray down on a table next to the sofa and then gave me the blanket.

  “I can share the blanket if you’re cold too,” I said, though I felt my face flushing at the thought of him that close to me.

  “No,” he said, a bit too abruptly, like there had been something wrong with my offer.

  I felt embarrassed, so I didn’t speak as we ate the pirozhki. The little filled pies were delicious, and somehow Tatiana had made the potato filling taste amazing. They might have even been better than Zarja’s, though I’d never tell Zarja that. We ate them all, and when we were finished, we watched the fire in silence for a few minutes.

  “I’m afraid everyone will be worried that I’m not home yet,” I said.

  “I told Hap and Miles I was going to meet you. They know not to worry. Hap wanted to come too, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  “Thank you.” I meant not only for coming to find me, but also for not bringing Hap. Three would definitely have been a crowd here at this moment.

  “How did you know where to look?”

  “Osip said you had gone to the train station, but when you weren’t there, I thought you’d probably gone to the hospital since it was so close. When you weren’t at the hospital either, I started back to your house.”

  “But I was going the wrong way. I was a long way from the hospital.”

  He looked at me strangely. “No you weren’t. You were only a few blocks from it.”

  I’d been walking in circles. I couldn’t understand how I’d gotten so confused.

  The silence grew awkward again. I didn’t know why it felt so different between us just because we were alone and in a different house. Dmitri got up and stirred the fire until it flared. He put the poker back on the stand and sat back down, looking at the fire as if trying to see something in it.

  I wanted to think of something to say. I spotted a large instrument case in the corner next to a music stand. “Is that a cello? Do you play?” I remembered thinking when I’d first seen him that his hands were those of a pianist, with his long, elegant fingers.

  “I used to. I haven’t practiced for a long time. My family played together, like yours, though we were a little more serious and there wasn’t so much talking and laughing.” He smiled.

  I realized I was warm enough to take off the blanket. My hair was wet, so I took it down and tried to run my fingers through the tangles. I heard a sound from Dmitri, and when he spoke, his voice was strange. “I can get you a towel to dry it.”

  “No, I don’t need one. It will dry quickly enough. Why didn’t you tell us you could play? The boys would love to have you join in.”

  “I didn’t want to intrude. I like watching you all play and I’m not at your level. I kept up with lessons for a few years after, but…” He looked away from me.

  I hadn’t thought through where this conversation would lead. I reached out and put my hand on his arm. “Papa told me what happened to your family. I’m sorry.”

  He took my hand between his again. The gold ring he wore flashed in the light from the fire. “You’ve warmed up.” He hesitated before he spoke again. “It was years ago. I don’t want to think about the past. I was lonely for a long time. Now I’m not lonely anymore.” He let go of my hands and raised one of his own as if he was going to touch my face, and then, like the times before, he took it away.

  I didn’t want this to be like the times before. I reached for his hand and placed it on my cheek. He closed his eyes and then opened them again and smiled, moving closer to me.

  “I’ve thought about asking you to come here, but I knew I shouldn’t,” he said. His voice was odd again, a little like he couldn’t catch his breath. He took his hand away as if his words had reminded him that he was touching me.

  “Why shouldn’t you?” I asked, even though I thought I knew the answer.

  “Because it’s not a good idea for us to be alone. Because of the war. Because I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  He reached out again, this time taking a lock of my hair in his hand and wrapping it around his fingers. “You have the most beautiful hair. It’s a shame you have to wear it up. Though when you do have it up, I can see your pretty neck.”

  He brushed my hair off my shoulder. “So stunning, like the color of a firebird,” he whispered, and then sighed, taking his hand away. “I wish I’d met you a long time ago.”

  “I do too. But we’re here now in this lovely room. That’s enough for me.”

  He leaned in close. I could feel his breath on me. It was so warm.

  “You smell of apricots,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. “I’m very fond of apricots. They remind me of lazy summer days and the bees buzzing and warm breezes.”

  I felt like my whole body had suddenly caught fire. His lips touched my neck.

  “I see you when you are all covered with snow,” he said, “and I think that you have such warmth inside you, it should all melt away in an instant, and that you could take us into summer if you wanted.”

  I turned to face him and he tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed me. It was as if we really were in summer, surrounded by the heat. I pulled him toward me and forgot about everything except that I wanted to stay like that forever.

  When he moved away from me, I reached out for him to bring him back close, but he caught my hand. “We should stop,” he said.

  “I don’t want to,” I murmured.

  “We really, really should stop.” He got up. The warmth drai
ned out of me and out of the room. “Don’t look like that, please,” he said. “This is exactly why I didn’t ask you to come here before.”

  I sighed and sat up straight, my sense coming back to me. “I know,” I said. “But it was lovely.” So lovely I’d remember it always. “I want to come back here. Will you bring me?”

  He didn’t answer for what seemed like a long time. I sat very still. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, of course.”

  He sat back down and we began to talk, about nothing really important, but we talked for a long time, about our families, about school and how we had lived before the war. When I heard someone moving in the hallway, I looked over at a small clock on the table.

  “Tatiana is up. It must be close to daylight,” Dmitri said. “Do you want her to fix us something to eat or do you want to go home?”

  I stood up. “Let’s go home.” I knew the longer I stayed here, the more I’d never want to leave.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BY THE TIME we got home, my stomach was rumbling again. “Let’s go straight to the kitchen,” I said.

  “I need to be somewhere,” Dmitri said. “I just wanted to make sure you got home all right, but I will be back later.”

  His lips brushed my forehead before he walked away. I climbed up the stairs to the front door. Osip opened it, jerking his head to one side.

  I didn’t understand what he was doing until I came in and saw the baron standing by the window. I stared at him, unable to believe he was back. I had thought we were free of him since the Okhrana was gone.

  “Ah, good morning, Miss Mason. I see you were out for perhaps an early-morning walk with the count?” The man’s eyes went to my hair, which I realized I hadn’t put back up.

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s exactly what we were doing.”

  He smirked, and I wished I could wipe the expression off his face. “What do you want with us?” I asked. “Little pieces of paper calling for revolution hardly matter now.”

  “I don’t want anything with you. Forgive me for my lack of cordiality in greeting you. That was wrong of me, especially now. At this point, it no longer matters what you do, but the general is in great danger of being arrested. We both know he would not survive long in prison.”