| General Fiction posted November 16, 2022 |
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The Lev Karavich Story
A Baby Soldier Memoir/
by John Ciarmello
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
Time has not been merciful, and it has passed as quickly as would a bullet through my brain.
Those boyish dreams of becoming everyone's hero were abandoned long ago somewhere between pubescence and doddering perspicuity. The timbre of family voices' now faded to ethereal thrums on a century-old wind. No–time has not been merciful.
As the author had communicated to me upon her passing over twenty years ago, her hand and fingers then stretched; she motioned to the nightstand. I slid the drawer open to reveal a beautifully bound book, ran my palm across the cover, and read the title aloud. A Baby Soldier Memoir/The Lev Karavich Story. Tears welled, and I blotted the wetness from my cheeks. She nodded weakly and laid her hand on mine as I read the dedication. ‘There are no eyes more important to be laid upon these pages than yours, nor is there another alive who could answer the questions about the whys of my writing this memoir. So, I say to you–Lev Bora Karavich–It doesn’t matter to me what audience or in what manner this story is told as long as you are present to write its final entry.'
I raise my eyes and ask her to forgive me for waiting so long to view these pages, as her death was so devastating amidst my turbulent health. My head shakes, and my hands quiver as I place my glasses on my face and open the memoirs preceding my hundred years of life–I read alone and aloud. “The author writes–”
Chains of the unborn/ 1924
The wail of a newborn rang throughout the aid center of a woman’s prison colony in Mozhaisk, Russia. An ink stamp on the baby’s right shoulder blade marked its life in its entirety: Propty/ INM/ #2243. He is born Lev Bora Karavich and is the property of Masha Karavich, who is currently serving time for petty theft, holding a prison sentence of ten years or more under communist law.
***
Lev would have wished differently had he known this was to be the last birthday with his mother. Masha knelt and held her ten fingers in front of him. “Make a wish Lev.” He blew on her hands, and she folded her fingers into her fists. “Happy birthday, my baby soldier.” She hugged him and peered over his shoulder at the entrance of their cell. A man jangled his keys in the lock and pushed the iron gate to one side.
“Come here, boy.”
“Vadim, please…”
“He’s too old to stay here with you. You knew this day was coming, you should have prepared yourself differently.”
“As his mother, I beg you, Vadim, don’t take him.”
“You’re my prisoner before you’re his mother.”
“Please, Vadim, have mercy on him; he’s your son.”
“Is he?”
“He is, you know he is, and Zora, where is she, Vadim? Do you even know if she’s alive?”
“The decision to put her on the streets was not mine alone, Masha. You know as well as I do that this is not an orphanage. I had no options. If she’s strong, she’ll survive. If she’s weak, she’ll die. It’s that simple.”
Masha lowered her gaze to her lap.“She’s sixteen, Vadim. When did you become so cold?”
Vadim went to one knee and pulled Masha’s head backward by her hair. “ And when did you become so righteous?”
“Leave her alone.” Lev wrapped his forearm around Vadim’s neck from behind and squeezed.
“Get off of me, boy.” Vadim’s voice now strained, and his lips flattened across his lower jaw. He flailed at Lev’s locked grip and threw himself back against the block wall with a fleshy thud. Lev slid to the floor.
Masha stared into Vadim’s eyes as she rested Lev’s bleeding head on her lap.“Coward!”
“The boy has no sense.”
“If you touch him again, I’ll...”
“You’ll what!.”
“I’ll find a way to kill you and wipe that cowardly smirk off your face forever.”
“I’m astounded at your stupidity and the fact that you’ve taught this boy nothing about survival. I could kill you both for this right now, and no one would blink an eye. Don’t be so foolish as to pretend you’re above that reality, Masha.”
“You’re a coward, Vadim, withering in a corner from your responsibilities as a father and as a man.”
“And have you told your bastard son you’re the jailhouse whore?”
“She’s not a whore!”
“Shut up, boy, you’ve done and said enough. Masha, I'll kill you all if you ever mention them being my son and daughter again.”
“We’ve died a thousand times between these prison walls, Vadim. Your threats mean nothing.”
The cell door closed. Masha reached through the bars and touched Lev’s face. “Be brave, my baby soldier.”
Vadim pulled Lev down the corridor. “Stand up, boy.” He grunted as he lifted Lev by the back of his shirt to correct Lev’s dragging feet. Vadim fumbled with his keys and pushed the door open.
“Good morning, warden.”
“The boy is bleeding. Tend to him.”
“What happened…”
“Never mind the questions. Stitch him up and let me know when you’ve finished.”
“Yes, warden.” The man snapped a pair of rubber gloves over his hands. “My name is Cedric.”
“Lev, my name is Lev.”
“Yes, I know who you are, Lev. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Cedric tipped Lev’s head to the light.
“Ow.”
“Sorry, Lev, it’s numbing medication. It will help with the pain. This is quite a gash. How’d it happen?”
“Vadim.”
“Vadim did this to you?”
“I tried to stop him from hitting my mother.”
“Hitting her? Why?”
“She told him I was his son. It made him angry, I guess.”
“Your mother said Vadim is your father?”
“Yeah – Isn’t he? – Ahh! Ow!!”
“Sorry, last stitch, Lev.” Cedric snapped the gloves off and laid his hands on Lev’s shoulders.“Rest, Lev. I’ll tell your mother you’re doing well.”
To be continued:
Time has not been merciful, and it has passed as quickly as would a bullet through my brain.
Those boyish dreams of becoming everyone's hero were abandoned long ago somewhere between pubescence and doddering perspicuity. The timbre of family voices' now faded to ethereal thrums on a century-old wind. No–time has not been merciful.
Chains of the unborn/ 1924
The wail of a newborn rang throughout the aid center of a woman’s prison colony in Mozhaisk, Russia. An ink stamp on the baby’s right shoulder blade marked its life in its entirety: Propty/ INM/ #2243. He is born Lev Bora Karavich and is the property of Masha Karavich, who is currently serving time for petty theft, holding a prison sentence of ten years or more under communist law.***
Lev would have wished differently had he known this was to be the last birthday with his mother. Masha knelt and held her ten fingers in front of him. “Make a wish Lev.” He blew on her hands, and she folded her fingers into her fists. “Happy birthday, my baby soldier.” She hugged him and peered over his shoulder at the entrance of their cell. A man jangled his keys in the lock and pushed the iron gate to one side.
“You’re my prisoner before you’re his mother.”
“He is, you know he is, and Zora, where is she, Vadim? Do you even know if she’s alive?”
“The decision to put her on the streets was not mine alone, Masha. You know as well as I do that this is not an orphanage. I had no options. If she’s strong, she’ll survive. If she’s weak, she’ll die. It’s that simple.”
Masha lowered her gaze to her lap.“She’s sixteen, Vadim. When did you become so cold?”
Vadim went to one knee and pulled Masha’s head backward by her hair. “ And when did you become so righteous?”
“Leave her alone.” Lev wrapped his forearm around Vadim’s neck from behind and squeezed.
“Get off of me, boy.” Vadim’s voice now strained, and his lips flattened across his lower jaw. He flailed at Lev’s locked grip and threw himself back against the block wall with a fleshy thud. Lev slid to the floor.
Masha stared into Vadim’s eyes as she rested Lev’s bleeding head on her lap.“Coward!”
“The boy has no sense.”
“If you touch him again, I’ll...”
“You’ll what!.”
“I’ll find a way to kill you and wipe that cowardly smirk off your face forever.”
“I’m astounded at your stupidity and the fact that you’ve taught this boy nothing about survival. I could kill you both for this right now, and no one would blink an eye. Don’t be so foolish as to pretend you’re above that reality, Masha.”
“You’re a coward, Vadim, withering in a corner from your responsibilities as a father and as a man.”
“And have you told your bastard son you’re the jailhouse whore?”
“She’s not a whore!”
“Shut up, boy, you’ve done and said enough. Masha, I'll kill you all if you ever mention them being my son and daughter again.”
“We’ve died a thousand times between these prison walls, Vadim. Your threats mean nothing.”
The cell door closed. Masha reached through the bars and touched Lev’s face. “Be brave, my baby soldier.”
Vadim pulled Lev down the corridor. “Stand up, boy.” He grunted as he lifted Lev by the back of his shirt to correct Lev’s dragging feet. Vadim fumbled with his keys and pushed the door open.
“Good morning, warden.”
“The boy is bleeding. Tend to him.”
“What happened…”
“Never mind the questions. Stitch him up and let me know when you’ve finished.”
“Yes, warden.” The man snapped a pair of rubber gloves over his hands. “My name is Cedric.”
“Lev, my name is Lev.”
“Yes, I know who you are, Lev. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Cedric tipped Lev’s head to the light.
“Ow.”
“Sorry, Lev, it’s numbing medication. It will help with the pain. This is quite a gash. How’d it happen?”
“Vadim.”
“Vadim did this to you?”
“I tried to stop him from hitting my mother.”
“Hitting her? Why?”
“She told him I was his son. It made him angry, I guess.”
“Your mother said Vadim is your father?”
“Yeah – Isn’t he? – Ahh! Ow!!”
“Sorry, last stitch, Lev.” Cedric snapped the gloves off and laid his hands on Lev’s shoulders.“Rest, Lev. I’ll tell your mother you’re doing well.”
To be continued:
 Recognized |
© Copyright 2024. John Ciarmello All rights reserved.
John Ciarmello has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
