Hidden in the Taiga

Hidden in the Taiga

Suzanne Marsh

I saw him standing at the edge of village, his beard white as snow, all I could think of was he was was Ded Moroz (“Grandfather Frost”). Here in the small Russian village of Okunevo nothing ever happens. I wanted to approach him but Mama grabbed my hand before I could move any closer. It was nearing January 7^th. I wondered if Ded Moroz even knew our little village existed. Mama told me to stay away from him and the forest, bad things happened there, she warned. I was almost twelve but arguing with Mama was like throwing a snowball at a caribou, usually with the same results. I decided to wait and when Mama was not watching I would find him.

Finally on a cold winter's morning, there he was once again. His beard nearly frozen still, his azure blue eyes tearing from the cold. I wanted to meet Ded Moroz, to welcome him to the village and take him home with me. I knew I would stand a better chance of getting gifts if I was nice to him. He was hunched over from the cold, he wore a thin cloth jacket, that was useless against the Siberian winter. I took his hand and together we sat on an old wooden bench that was the center of the town.

His hands were like ice, his voice no more than a whisper:

“First boy what is your name, so I am know it?”

“Alexander Dushenko” and yours sir?”

“Alexander my name is Ivan Smartov, I am the youngest of four sons. I am from Anadyr,

here in Siberia. You must never tell anyone my name. It would be best if you called me

Ded Moroz or Grandfather Frost.”

Alexander, his eyes open in awe as he asked that man why he could not tell anyone who Ded Moroz really was. The old man began:

“In 1961 Yuri Gargarin became the first cosmonaut in the Rodina. It was then that the Soviet's

began to send up rockets manned and unmanned. They wanted to be the first to set foot on

the moon, however the United States astronaut Neil Armstrong was first to walk on the moon.

We lost to the United States, Moscow was not happy. Then someone, somewhere in the Soviet's had a brilliant idea, why not go to a small village, and launch rockets with humans. Anadyr,

was the village selected. The village is the eastern most village in Russia. Soon, bright red

colored rockets began to arrive in the village. Our people thought it odd. My father was the

mayor then. He never should have argued about the rockets being there but he did. They could

not send him to Siberia, since we lived in Siberia to begin with so instead, one cold dark snowy

night, he was taken away, shoved into a rocket, with no gear, no preparations. The rocket was

launched immediately as a warning to dissenters, in the village not to oh how do I put this?

It was a warning of what would happen to anyone who mentioned the presences of the rockets.

“My mama, cried herself to sleep the night papa was taken away, then she became a very cold

remote mother, not the fun loving mama we knew. There were ten of us then there are five

of us now.”

Alexander, although a true story lover asked:

“why are there so few left in your family?”

The old man sighed as he continued his burdened story:

“Our family was singled out for reprisals because papa stood up to the soviet and told

them no rockets were going to be permitted in Anadyr. So the soviet decided that we

must pay the price for this. As my brothers turned eighteen, they were taken in the night,

stuck in a rocket and launched just as our papa was. My oldest brother Anatoly was taken

first. He screamed and kicked, yelling in fear. That did not stop them from taking him to

the launch site, pushing him into the rocket and launching it. I still wake in the night to his

crying for mercy, to live, not die. Mama became even more withdrawn after Anatoly was

taken. I was just a little boy of four then.

My brother Sasha tried to run, he did not want to be like Anatoly, going up in rocket, dying

before he could begin to live. Having the name Smartov was not a good thing. I remember

mama packing a small backpack for Sasha. She put two pieces of fruit, some caribou meat.

We did not have much food or clothing but mama made sure he at least had the clothes on

his back. Sasha waited until after midnight, all the lanterns were off. Once again, they came.

Sasha, as did Anatoly screamed but his fate was sealed, he struggled they shoved him into the

rocket. I can still see his face as the rocket took off, pressed against the one window.

Several years went by before Dmitri's turn came. Dmitri, was identical to papa, he would

not give into the soviet. He, mama, my sisters and I began to devise a way to smuggle him

out of Anadyr and to relative safety in the Tiaga. Mama had a brother that lived in the Taiga,

she had not seen him for years. They fought about something years ago, but when mama

thought of another son being taken away and sent into space, she broke her silence. She

sent me to find Uncle Victor. She told me how to get into the taiga then follow a trail to

the dacha that belonged to Uncle Victor.

I remember the day I left to find Uncle Victor, the snow was falling lightly. Daylight would

not last long so I ran most of the way. For a boy of fifteen it was not difficult. I arrived at the

dacha just before sunset. Uncle Victor, opened the door himself. He was a giant of a man with

black hair, black eyes I shuddered as I explained why I had come. Somehow Uncle Victor was

not surprised. He said he would come with me and hoped we would get there in time. We

did not get there in time, Dmitri was whisked off before we arrived home. Mama, cried in his

arms until dawn. Now the only male left was me. That was when the four of us began to

formulate a plan.

Mama, decided that it would be best if I went back with Uncle Victor, she could not bear

to loose another male child. Uncle Victor and I lived quietly, no one ever came to the dacha.

I never understood why; until Uncle Victor died. Then the entire story evolved. Mama and

Uncle Victor were not brother and sister, they were lovers; I was the product of that love.

Papa, never knew, neither did the soviet. My escape was good, I did not find myself

hurtling through space with no space suit. I still live in the dacha, there is no one to

talk to except a caribou that comes for food. It is a lonely life. There are times when I

think I should have gone to my fate as did my three brothers and my papa. Now Alexander,

you know my story.”

Alexander stood, shook the old man's cold hand. His mama waited patiently for him to come over to her. She saw the old man's miserable blue eyes, asked him if he would like to come to their home and celebrate Ded Moroz with them. Alexander placed his hand in Ivan's hand as they walked slowly in front of mama. She wondered what the old man had told her son, but could not bring herself to ask him, she had seen him raise his hand in a promise. The old man visited them several more times, then the visits stopped. Alexander hoped Ivan was well and not on a trip in a red rocket.