Gone by Nightfall

by Dee Garretson

  I pulled my hands out of his and clenched them together. I’d tried to pretend things would get better even as they had gotten worse and worse, but it was time to stop pretending.

  “You have to leave the country,” Dmitri said. “I won’t leave until you are safely away, but you have to go. All of you. And you have to go soon. I don’t know how much longer the trains will be running and it’s still not safe to leave by the western route.”

  “I know.” I got up to go to the window. It felt as if the gray fog that hung over the river were seeping into the house.

  Dmitri came to stand beside me. I turned to him and put my arms around his neck, pulling him down so that I could kiss him, wanting not to think for just a little while.

  I didn’t hear the boys until they were already in the room. It was Miles’s voice that brought me back to reality. “Oh,” he said.

  I pulled away from Dmitri to see both Miles and Hap in the doorway, their mouths wide open.

  “We’re busy,” I told them. “Why don’t you go away for a little while longer.” It wasn’t really a question and they knew it. They were back out the door as fast as they’d come in.

  Dmitri gave a bit of a sheepish smile. “I suppose I’ve just destroyed any sort of authority I might have had over them, not that I had that much anyway.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s about time they realized I’m not just someone who exists to arrange their lives for them.”

  “No, you are far more than that, Charlotte Danielovna.” He brushed my hair off my face. “I have to go out for a while again, but I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll talk to Papa. It’s going to be hard to convince him to leave.”

  “If anyone can do it, it will be you.” He kissed me once more and then left.

  I went up to Papa’s room, weighing what to say about the daughter. When I got there, I didn’t have to say anything.

  “Lottie,” he called out. “Lottie, come here. I’ve made a decision. You and all the children need to leave the country. It’s too dangerous at the moment.”

  His voice was strong and his color back to normal. We had to get him out of the country so he wouldn’t have any more shocks. “We will,” I said, “but you have to come with us.” I told him everything Dmitri had said. “It’s dangerous for you too. We can all go to the United States until things settle down here.”

  I could tell he’d never even thought of the idea. Even when my mother was alive, he hadn’t liked to travel out of Russia.

  “You can take all your papers and work on your memoir while we’re gone,” I said. “There will be plenty of hours on the trains and the ships.”

  He leaned back on his pillows and twisted the end of his mustache. I waited, trying to read his expression. He sat up. “Perhaps a trip is not such a bad idea. After all, no one here seems to want my help with anything.”

  I was relieved it hadn’t been as difficult as I feared. “And if the war in Europe ends soon, we can come back through Paris and stop there for a while,” I said. “We haven’t been to the apartment there in a long time.” We’d gone back only once and that had been before the twins were born.

  His mouth turned down. “We could go to Paris for a few days, I suppose, but not to the apartment. I sold it.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” The news stung. There was nothing special about the place, but we’d been there all together with my mother, and she’d made each trip like an adventure. It was breaking a link to her.

  “Yes, I sold all my properties in Europe and moved all my money back to Russian banks at the start of the war. The czar asked us to as a way to show we supported the country and him.”

  I felt a pinging of unease about Papa selling everything. If Papa had all his money here, why were his gambling debts a problem? We’d need money to get us out of the country, and we’d need money to live on.

  He slapped his hand down on the bed “Yes! Let’s do it. There’s still some life left in me. Let’s take a trip!”

  But as soon as the elation came onto his face, it disappeared. “It will take quite a bit of organizing. My bones are getting old. I’m not sure I’m meant to leave Russia again.”

  “Please, Papa, we don’t want to leave you behind.” I’d keep begging as long as it took.

  “All right.” He looked around the room. “I suppose a few months away isn’t that long.”

  “It won’t be. Papa, we have to get ready to leave as fast as we can. We’re going to need money. I’m going to the bank to get what’s left from the hospital account, but we’re going to need more than that.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few long moments. “I’ll go talk to some people,” he said. “I’m afraid we’re a little short of funds, but we’ll manage.”

  “We’ll manage,” I said. Nothing was going to stop us from getting everyone to safety.

  Chapter Eighteen

  IT WAS TOO late to go to the bank that day but when I got to the bank the next morning, there were some of the new Red Militia standing around inside with rifles. They all wore red armbands. A line of people waited to get to the single clerk, so I went to the back of the line.

  When I finally got to the front, the clerk stood up.

  “We’re closed,” he said to me. I didn’t recognize him. I thought I knew everyone in the bank.

  I gripped the edge of the counter. “I need to see the bank manager. It’s very important.”

  “He’s not here.” The man picked up a stack of papers and turned away.

  “No, wait! Where is he? It’s important.”

  The man turned back to me and shrugged. “I think he quit.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Then who is in charge? My name is Charlotte Mason. My mother had investments. The manager took care of the funds. I need those now.”

  He shook his head. “We’re out of money. People took out what they had. There is none left. I gave out the last hundred rubles to the man ahead of you. The government has nationalized the banks, and people came to get what they could.”

  “But you have our money!” My voice rose. We had to have that money. No one was going to take us to the United States for free.

  The man frowned. “Young lady, banks aren’t stuffed full of everyone’s money. That’s not the way it works. Once our supply is gone, it’s gone unless we get more, and no one is putting money in the bank these days.”

  I knew that. I’d just never expected them to run out. “What am I supposed to do?” I said. I wanted to reach over the counter and grab his arm until he gave me a solution. “What are we supposed to do?”

  I glanced around, hoping to see someone I knew. Another line had formed over by the vault.

  “What is that other line? Do they have money over there?” I asked.

  “No, people are being allowed to open their safety deposit boxes.”

  I hadn’t thought about my mother’s safety deposit box since she died. She’d put my name on it when she was ill, but I hadn’t ever looked in it. I knew it had some of her jewelry in it. I didn’t know what else.

  I ran home to get the key and then went back, praying they wouldn’t have closed the bank in the meantime. If the box didn’t have something of value in it, I didn’t know what we’d do.

  When I got back to the bank, I waited a long time in the other line. It moved slowly, and I thought I would scream with impatience. The soldiers only escorted one person into the vault at a time. None of those who went in would answer any questions when they came out. They’d just scurry away, looking from side to side as if they expected someone to rob them. I realized that was a real worry and I began to wish I’d asked Hap to come with me.

  Once it was finally my turn, I had almost convinced myself we’d be lucky and the box would be full of money I didn’t know about. When I opened it up under the watchful eye of the militiaman, I saw the glittering of both jewels and gold coins, and underneath those, some old papers. My elation was brief.

  “The
coins are for the state,” the man said. “Put them in the basket on the table.”

  I cursed under my breath.

  “What did you say?” The man scowled at me.

  “Nothing. I was just clearing my throat.” I scooped the coins up, wishing I could slip one or two in my pocket, but he was watching me too closely. Once they were all in the basket, I turned back to the jewels. They were what I remembered, mostly rubies and diamonds, my mother’s favorites. I tensed up, expecting the man to demand those too, but he looked at the clock and said, “Hurry up. Take your baubles and go.”

  I tried not to show my excitement in case he decided he needed another look. The “baubles” would be worth a lot of money. I put them all in the little bag I’d brought and grabbed the papers too and then hurried out, afraid he’d change his mind. I had no idea what the papers were, though I doubted they would be of use to us now. I just didn’t want to leave them behind.

  I walked home as fast as I could, trying not to look as if I was carrying a fortune in jewels. I put everything in my room until I could pack them and then headed back out to the American embassy. Someone there would have to know the steps we needed to take to get out of the country. Now that we were planning to go, I didn’t want to drag it out. I didn’t want to stop and think about it.

  The streets were full of people again, most of them milling about aimlessly as if waiting for someone to take charge. The main danger came from the automobiles. Groups of men had commandeered any they could find and sped around the city with their guns pointing out the windows, firing randomly.

  I wanted to yell at them for their stupidity. Somehow they thought having a gun made them important, when all it really did was make people hate them for turning the streets into danger zones. The city was falling apart, and they were making everything worse. It made me furious, and I stomped along through the snow, not even noticing the cold.

  The embassy was overrun with people all wanting the same thing I did. I waited in another long line and when I finally reached the front, I tried to explain to the man at the desk what I was trying to do. I had to speak loudly so he could hear me over the noise in the room.

  “Everyone is trying to leave,” he said, flipping through a large stack of papers like he was looking for something. “And yes, the train to the east is definitely the safest route now. Once you get to Japan, the embassy there will know more about ships across the Pacific. Of course, you’ll need to make sure your passports are up to date, and you’ll need the proper Russian stamps to leave the city.”

  “That’s one reason I’m here. My little sisters don’t have passports, except for the internal Russian ones. They’ve never been abroad.”

  He looked up at me and frowned. “If they’ve never been abroad, do you mean they were born here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, your parents must have been given their birth certificates. It will state their citizenship. Bring that in and we’ll issue them passports, though your parents should have done that when they were born. I must say—even though I’m an American, of course—Americans abroad take too much for granted. They assume whatever they need can be produced on demand.”

  “My stepfather, their father, is Russian, and we didn’t think about passports.”

  He set down the papers and shook his head at me. “If their father is a Russian, then they’ll need Russian passports, and I can’t help you with that. Now, the line is very long behind you. Move aside, please.”

  “But my mother was American,” I said.

  “It doesn’t matter. Children born in Russia to Russian fathers are Russian. That’s the law here.” He craned his neck so he could see around me.

  I moved to the side, berating myself for not having realized that and for wasting time standing in line. I knew there would be another long line at the Russian passport office.

  But when I reached it, it was closed, and no one could tell me when it would reopen. I rattled the door handle as if that would make the office open. Nothing.

  I leaned my face against the door, suddenly overcome with weariness. As I stood there, anger began to spark in me again. We weren’t going to be defeated for the lack of a few papers. We weren’t going to wait around to see when it might open again. We just weren’t.

  I knew what we had to do. I’d heard rumors that before the revolution people could get fake passports. Surely they were still being made, and while I had no idea how to go about finding the right people, I could find out. Raisa’s father might know. As a newspaperman, he seemed to know everyone.

  I headed home, wanting to tell Dmitri everything that had happened.

  I’d barely gotten in the door when someone began pounding on it. “Let us in! Arrest warrant for General Feodor Ivanovich Cherkassky.”

  I was done being afraid. I was too angry to be afraid. They weren’t going to get him.

  “Where is Papa?” I asked Osip, who stood looking at the door in horror.

  “He’s … he’s out, but he should be back anytime.”

  “Don’t open the door unless they try to break it down,” I said as I whirled around and ran to the kitchen. Papa often came in the back way to save Yermak a trip all the way down and around the block just to drop him off at the front door. I didn’t see Zarja anywhere, but my stepfather was coming through the door.

  “There are men here to arrest you!” I cried. “Go back out. Get Yermak to take you somewhere.” I pushed him toward the door.

  “Lottie, stop. Yermak has taken Zarja out to buy food,” Papa said. “Who has come to arrest me?”

  “I don’t know. Militia, I suppose, but they are banging on the front door.”

  There was movement out the back window. Two militiamen were headed toward us and one of them was looking right at me. The sight of me had given away that someone was in the house.

  I felt a brief flash of panic but I pushed it down. Papa couldn’t run fast enough to hide anywhere, and eventually the men would probably search the whole house. I had to think of something else. I grabbed one of Zarja’s aprons. “Put this on,” I said. “And pretend you only speak French.” He got the apron on just as the men began to pound on the back door. I shoved a spoon in his hand. “Stir the soup. Remember, only French.”

  I hoped he’d understand what we were doing. When I opened the door, I spoke first in English, thinking the men might be confused by a foreigner at the house of a Russian.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  The two looked at each other and then at me. One of them spoke to me in Russian, telling me about the arrest warrant. I pretended I didn’t understand. I said, “Nyet Russkiy,” which meant “no Russian.” They saw Papa, who stood holding the spoon in the same spot I’d left him. They pushed their way around me and began telling him they were looking for General Cherkassky. He looked over at me.

  “He doesn’t understand Russian either. Nyet Russkiy.” I pointed at him. “Français.” I doubted they spoke French either but thought they might recognize the word.

  They did recognize it, but continued to talk at me in Russian for a while, asking me where the general had gone. I pretended I didn’t understand any of it. Papa was miraculously playing the part of a chef, getting down spices and putting pinches of things in the soup.

  If I hadn’t been so scared, I would have smiled to see him like that. One man came over and smelled the soup, then backed away and shook his head. They continued to poke around the kitchen a bit until they found some bread and some biscuits. They took those and left.

  As soon as they were gone, I looked over at my stepfather, afraid he would have another attack of illness at the shock. I was amazed to see him smiling.

  “Those devils aren’t going to get the better of me!” he said. “I did well, didn’t I? All those theater performances your mother dragged me to, I suppose I learned a thing or two.”

  “You did wonderfully, Papa!” I ran over and hugged him. “You were so brave!”

  “Did you forget I
am a general?” he said. “We’re supposed to be brave.”

  The twins came running in the kitchen. “Zarja, we’re hungry!” Nika shouted. They froze at the sight of Papa wearing an apron, their eyes enormous.

  He waved a spoon at them. “Hello, my little chickabiddies. I’m learning to make soup. Would you like some?”

  They looked at me and then back at Papa. He laughed like he didn’t have a care in the world, and they ran to him. I couldn’t believe that what should have been a terrifying encounter was making my stepfather seem twenty years younger. As I stared at him, I realized I could see traces of the soldier he had been.

  While Papa was teasing the twins, Zarja and Yermak came through the door.

  “Girls, why don’t you go back upstairs?” I said, grabbing some pieces of bread for them. “Tell the boys I’m coming up soon, and then later I’ve got a surprise to tell you about.”

  Once the twins were gone, I told Zarja and Yermak how Papa had almost been arrested. It was time to tell them our plans. “So you see, we’ve decided, as much as we don’t want to, we need to leave Russia until things settle down again. We’re going to the United States on a visit.”

  “Good,” Yermak said. “Get the children away where they will be safe.”

  “Will you take Zarja and Polina to the country?” I asked Yermak. “And Osip, too, if he wants to go. It’s too dangerous for any of you to stay here.” I didn’t want to leave until I knew they were safe.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s where they came from and that’s where they belong.”

  Zarja hadn’t said a word so far. She’d just stood there with her mouth open, and then her face changed to one of dismay. “But I can’t leave the house to those people! What would Mr. Archer think?”

  Papa put his hand on her arm. “He’d want you to take care of yourself,” he said. “Please go, my old friend. It will be hard for me to leave if you don’t.”