FanStory.com - A Baby Soldier Memoir/ entry 3by John Ciarmello

The rescue worker pulled away from the window as a cloud of white smoke pushed out around him. He quickly reached his arm and shoulder back through the window. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Lev, its Lev, Lev Karovich.”

“Okay, Lev, stay calm and stay close to the floor. Can you do that for me? We have to find another way to get to you. The entrances are engulfed in flame. We may have to gain entry from the roof so stay close to the wall. And stay low!”

Lev became breathless. He wasn’t a stranger to the meaning of death, and even at his current age of ten, he could feel it surrounding him. Then Lev’s mother’s voice became all too present in the room. Be brave, my baby soldier. Be brave. Lev lifted his head from the floor. “Mama?” He yelled. But the thick smoke drove his head back to the cold tile.

“Did you say something, Lev? Are you clear on my instruction?”

“I thought I heard my mother’s voice. Did my mother get out?”

“Lev, you may be imagining…”

“Just tell me, did she get out?”

“I can tell you there’s no one left in the building, Lev, but that’s all I know. Just stay low.”

To be continued…

Entry 3/ Novgorod orphanage/1930.

“You play cards like a frigin’ infant, Lev.”

“I’ll get better when you stop cheating, Dimitri!”

Dimitri leaned across the table and pulled the disheveled pile of rubles close to his chest.

“What’s funny, Dimitri?”

“I’m just thinking how bad you are at poker! That’s all.”

“And that smile on your face, Dimitri?”

“What about it?”

Lev sifted a stack of chips through his fingers. “It looks like the smile of a cheater.”

“You’re just pissed because I have all your rubles.”

“Not all of it, now ante-up–cheater.”

“I have to ask, though. What simpleton taught you how to recognize the smile of a cheater?” Dimitri tossed a few chips at the middle of the table. “It has to be the same guy that taught you how to play poker.”

Lev leaned back in his chair and gave the cards a quick shuffle. “My mother and I used to play to pass the time. I think she may have taught me to play badly on purpose because she knew I’d lose my shirt someday.”

“You think she was using that reverse psychology?”

“I don’t know—Maybe.”

“Hmm, strange! So, you lose your shirt now, so you won’t lose it later?”

Lev tapped the deck like a pack of cigarettes on the table and shrugged “Yeah, I guess.”

“Never understood that shit!”

“Yeah, but it’s working. I’m getting tired of losing my money to poker games.”

“Hey, Lev. I didn’t mean to say your mom was a simpleton.”

“I know, Dimitri. I’ve learned to edit your stupid words. I mean, there isn’t much left to your sentences after I do that, but…”

“Yeah, funny!” Dimitri snapped his finger at Lev. “Your deal, loser. Let’s go!”

Lev quickly dealt the cards across the table, and Dimitri stopped them under his fingers. He stared at the raised snake-like scars on Lev’s wrists and arms and then gradually changed his gaze. “How long's it been since Mozhaisk, Lev?” Dimitri looked over his hand and threw down. “Gimme two.”

“It’s been six years.” Lev spun two cards across the table. “Man, I miss that woman, Dimitri.”

“What woman? You had a woman?”

“Geez, Dimitri–my mom. I was talking about my mom!” Lev looks up from his cards.“What’s funny now, Dimitri?”

“Geez?”

“Yeah, what about it? I always say geez.”

“I know, but maybe you should get mad, pound your fists, Lev! Let your feelings out! Swear a little.”

“Ahh, worn-out words and wasted emotion. I never had much use for either.”

Dimitri shrugged and stared into his fanned cards. “It makes me feel a shit-load better. Anyway–so, what do you think happened to her? Your mom.”

“I don’t know. Maybe she got moved to another prison after the explosion. I’ve been hoping I’d hear from her.”

“Do you think she made it out, Lev?”

“I don’t know. I heard her voice before the roof caved.”

“Her voice?”

“She told me to be brave. She always called me her baby soldier.”

“But you didn’t see her.”

“No, it was like she was next to me, though, talking into my ear.”

“Maybe you just wanted to hear her voice.”

"Maybe–I have an older sister too, Zora, but it’s been so long since I’ve heard from either one of them. I think they might be–” Lev gave a dismissive wave. “Ahh, It’s all so crazy.”

“Yeah–crazy. Hey, Lev?”

“Yep”

“Scars are pretty cool, though.”

“Thanks.” Lev took a few chips and pushed them to the center of the table. “I call.”

Dimitri tossed in his chips to raise.

“I’ll have to show you all of them sometime, Dimitri.”

He waved his palm at Lev. “No, no. Not if it means you have to pull your pants down or anything like that.”

Lev put his cards face down on the table and rolled his sleeve over his bicep. "Seventy percent of my body looks just like this.”

“Shit Lev, that’s gruesome." Dimitri smiled and laid down his cards. “Whatcha think of this– loser?”

“A full house?” Lev tossed his cards face down on the pile. “That’s Cruddy, Dimitri!”

Dimitri gave Lev a lopsided grin and focused more on pulling his winnings off the table rather than talking directly to Lev. “PFFT! Cruddy–the kid says, cruddy! What friggin’ sixteen-year-old says that.!”

“Dimitri, eat—”

“Eat what, Lev? C’mon, say it!”

“Nope.”

“You know, Lev, someday, the top of your friggin’ head is just gonna blow off, and all the nasty words you’ve been wanting to say will hit the ground around you like it’s raining dog shit! I just hope I’m not around when it happens.”

“Whatever you say.” Lev snatched a ten rubel from the pile.

“No, no, no, Lev!” Dimitri stood up and lunged for the bill.

Lev quickly stuffed it in his pocket.

“Fine, you owe me, then.” Dimitri shot Lev an extended glance. “You know I tease you like a brother, right?”

“I know, but…"

“But what?”

”Some best friend you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been with you in this orphanage for six years, Dimitri, and you're just getting around to asking me about my life?”

“Well, I figured it had to be a rough one. I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories or anything. If you feel like talking about it, go ahead, but if you do, don’t leave out any cool parts.”

Lev smiled and shook his head. “I’ll try not to.”

“So go ahead. Why are you hesitating? Tell me.”

“It’s just so weird for me to talk about it.”

Dimitri waved an arm. “No, I understand. You don’t have to…”

“It’s hard–I just…”

“What is it, Lev?”

“I just don’t understand what happened. It’s hard for me to put it all together.”

"Lev! Is this going to get worse the look on your face is scary.”

Lev’s tone went soft, and his words were prolonged. “How is it I was the only one left in that building, Dimitri?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think someone was trying to kill me. I didn’t know it then, but when I think back on it…” Lev paused and rubbed the raised burn scars on his wrist. “They are kind of cool–aren’t they?”

Dimitri folded his arms on the table and leaned in on his elbows. “Yeah, they’re very cool, but focus, Lev! What makes you think someone was trying to kill you?”

“I thought a lot about the locked doors. Why, Dimitri? Why were they locked? And the man in the hallway? He was in the middle of trying to break the door down. Then that crazy thud on the hallway floor, and he was gone, dragged away–I think.” Lev gave a quick shrug. "I don’t know–it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look, Lev, if this is bothering you to talk about it, you don’t…"

“No, no. It’s okay, Dimitri.”

“Okay, but you stop if you need to.”

Lev leaned back in his chair. “So, I’m pretty sure after part of the roof caved; the rescue workers figured there was no chance I was still alive. By then, my pants and shirt had caught fire a few times, and the wet towel I used to douse the flames only pushed the fabric further into my skin.” Lev lifted his pant leg. “You see that deep indent on my calf? That missing chunk pulled away with the towel when I tried to hit the flames.”

“Friggin’ gruesome, Lev.”

“Yeah, gruesome." Lev paused. “Do you know what it feels like to die?”

“How would anyone know that unless…”

“I do. I know what it is to die.”

“I’m confused. What’re you saying, Lev?”

"It was weird. I kept passing out because of the pain. It must have been just seconds at a time. Then waking to douse my clothes again with the wet towel. Finally, everything went numb, and my brain told me to stop fighting—I just laid back, Dimitri. I just laid back and closed my eyes–waiting.”

“Christ, Lev. You wanted to die?”

“No! I wanted to live, but every lobe of my brain told me it was over. The only sense I had left was the smell of my burnt flesh. The raw heat, the pained breathy screams that never made it past my lips, the pockets of red spitting embers dropping around me. It all seemed to get sucked into this–this unfeeling mass of emptiness. All of it just silently spinning above my head, waiting for my brain to tell me to stop breathing.”

Dimitri put his forehead on the table's edge and locked his fingers around the back of his neck. “Good Christ Almighty, Lev! I had no idea…”

“You okay? You want me to finish, or…”

“Yes, finish–finish! How the frig did you get out of there, Lev?”

To be continued: