Sunlit oak tree

1921. The wind blowing from the northwest on this late summer day moved the long hair of a boy lying under an oak tree with a book in his hands. The branches of the tree, which had stood for centuries and had been planted by his great-grandfather, rustled a little with their light green leaves in the wind, creating a pleasant melody to the ear. The birds, pouring their melody, either fell silent with a strong gust, or again filled the garden with their singing. In the distance you could hear neighbors talking and the sound of passing bicycles; The afternoon nap dragged on a little, and Augustine reluctantly opened his eyes, and, raising his small hand, looked at his watch: it was exactly four; he smiled thoughtfully, imagining that now Edith would bake poppy seed and cinnamon rolls, as she usually does every Sunday. He lay there a little more, looked at the slanting rays of the sun that filtered through the crown of the tree, stretched, and then jumped up and, picking up a bicycle that was lying nearby, sat on it and rode towards the house. He rolled down the hill with his arms outstretched and the pedals slightly braking; he loved this moment, when the wind blew on him from all sides, when it was like the wind itself, when your whole body belongs to just a few seconds, when you can forget about gravity, about speed and everything in the world and just hear the noise wind in my ears. Next to their estate there was a forest in which Augustine often liked to hide and just spend time. Nearby, surrounded by a fence, there was an orchard with apples and plums, and a little further, in the depths, there was a garden with flowers, which was tended by his mother and his little sister. The mother, who loved the garden no less than her children, loved to take them with her while pottering around in the garden. Augustine usually carried heavy watering cans of water for her on such days, so he did not particularly like such leisure, unlike his sister. She always watched how her mother worked, how she processed plants and told her something. His father spent all his time near the river: he went on weekends to relax near it, or he went out to hunt, going into the very thicket, from which shots were heard, from which Augustine’s heart began to beat in a frenzied rhythm — he really didn’t like killing animals, the smell of a dead body, which the father then began to cut up with his own hands. Augustine could not even eat the meat of this animal at dinner, because he understood that at lunch it was still alive. Turning to the fence, Augustine leaned his bicycle against it and quietly walked up the stairs into the yard, and from there through the back entrance to the house. Walking along the corridor, he looked into the kitchen and, seeing fragrant buns, was about to take one, but a voice from behind stopped him. — Don’t even think about it! “Edith, who caught him in the kitchen, walked past with a kettle in her hand. This formidable woman of about forty with light gray hair and small wrinkles could easily enter into an argument with anyone and put anyone in their place. And she didn’t care if it was the eldest son of her masters. “Besides, your mother was looking for you.” Therefore, you must come to the family tea party, which will take place…” she looked at her watch, “in six minutes.” On top of everything else, you were sitting on the grass again, and now your shorts are covered in greenish mud. Augustine sighed, making a displeased face. — Edith, why do you always notice everything? Tell me, is this a trait you have in adults? — The woman shrugged. She never gave an answer to this question. Augustine left the kitchen and walked quickly into the living room, passing the library and the dressing room. He passed the large main staircase that was located near the main entrance, and, clicking the heels of his shoes, walked into a small living room, the windows of which looked out onto the garden. Judging by the sparkling laughter and jokes, the tea party has already gained momentum. Augustine walked in slowly and sat down on a small chair that stood at a distance from other furniture. The room warmed from the sun’s rays dancing across the carpet. Agnes was having fun with her mother, discussing various plants from the book lying on her lap. Her blue eyes were the same as their father Armen’s, her skin was pale porcelain with a faint pink blush visible, and her long brown hair fell in a thick, tight braid. Their mother Yulona was less pale — rather, her skin was slightly bronzed in the evening rays of the sun, and her light green eyes always sparkled idlely. Their mother was energetic and cheerful, unlike their father, a silent and introverted man who loved his chair by the fireplace more than their entire mansion. Children were forbidden to play or climb on it, and this violation was severely reprimanded. In his father’s arms lay his younger brother Yum, who lay quietly; born a month ago, he was a copy of his father. He smiled and stretched his arms towards his father, but Armen did not allow such behavior and did not react to it in any way. A plaintive whimper was heard in the distance, and Yulona was forced to interrupt the conversation with Agnes to go to Yunna, Yum’s twin. At that moment, Edith entered the room with buns and tea, and Agnes was the first to jump off the sofa and rush to the table. Augustine also did not hesitate, knowing that the lowest buns were the most delicious and hot. — No, it’s mine! — Augustine said offended, looking at how his sister took the roll from him and stuffed it into her mouth. “Girls take first,” was all the sister could say, sticking her tongue out at Augustine. “And that’s why you ate the whole chocolate bar that time?” “Augustine knew how to tease his sister: when he mentioned the incident when Agnes had a stomach ache from overeating, she immediately had a stern face and very frowning eyebrows. Augustine smiled cheerfully, rejoicing at the small victory. “Children, don’t quarrel,” the father intervened: he turned around in his chair, holding a pipe with tobacco in one hand and Yuma in the other. Augustine and Agnes became quiet. — At least take all these rolls for yourself and choke on them! — the boy said angrily. In a quiet, quiet voice, like the hiss of a snake. His eyes took on a slightly dark gray hue. — Augustine! — the mother said sternly, entering the room. — What else is this?! — His father and mother shamed him with their stern looks, and his sister joyfully clamped her mouth with goodies. “Sorry,” the boy said a little guiltily and, taking a mug, drank hot tea from it. The tea party took place in spoiled notes. That’s why the boy didn’t like such family gatherings. They definitely shamed him as the oldest, who turned eleven this year. Agnes, being only a six-year-old child, had not yet experienced her first punishments. She was the first girl, and, of course, she got away with a lot. Augustine was brought up in severity, but love. Although in his childhood concepts this was incompatible. Having finished his tea, Augustine put the mug down and turned to leave. Little three-year-old Yum fell asleep in his father’s arms. — Already leaving? — the mother said quietly. Now that Yunna had calmed down, she could calmly continue discussing flowers with Agnes. — Yes. I need to play the violin for practice tomorrow. “The mother nodded understandingly, and the boy left the room, leaving his sister and brother. Walking along richly decorated corridors with a dark golden carpet on the floor, past paintings of his famous distant and close relatives, turning his head, he came across a portrait of his great-grandfather — an officer in the Prussian army, who rose to the rank of colonel, and, looking at the portrait with regret, Augustine lowered head and only increased his pace. His father always wanted him to join the army, but the boy himself never wanted to see violence and was more eager to create than to destroy. Having opened the doors, Augustine looked around the room: a large oak table with a bunch of sheets of paper covered with drawings, and in the corner there was a piano and a violin, which he loved to play so much. On the opposite side of the room there is an easel with a composition just begun of a clearing and his favorite oak tree. The shutters of the large tall window with the most beautiful landscape were open, and next to it there was a small railway, which he loved to play with, and a bookshelf with a bunch of books. Augustine went to the violin and the notes, turned the sheet over, and a song flowed from under the bow, engulfing the entire house. The sun was setting, and the last sunset rays fell on the notes, turning them yellow-orange. Augustine loved peace and only in such moments did he know that he would always feel it. He was already making plans for tomorrow: around noon he would sit under the same oak tree and again rest, lying under it, listening to the birds and looking at the rays of the sun. *** Loud stomping in the corridor woke Augustine. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch — it was two o’clock in the morning; on the lower floor the excited voice of the mother and the whisper of Edith, who lived with them in the house, could be heard. Augustine did not hear what exactly they were talking about, he only heard his mother’s quick muttering, with which Edith agreed. Augustine sat down on the bed, leaning his elbows on his back; his still sleepy mind could not orient himself and understand what to do next and how to behave. Edith quietly entered and turned on the light. Augustine squinted; his eyes hurt. He rubbed them with his hand. “Edith,” Augustine called quietly to her as she quickly walked up to him. — What’s happening? Why are you here? — The woman behaved nervously and abruptly. She went to his closet and, taking things, began to put them in a suitcase. — I don’t know. I was told to pack your things and your sister’s things, so get ready, your mother said to do it as soon as possible. “Her voice was hurried and cold, like Augustine had never heard it before. He crawled out of bed and began to change his clothes when Edith, throwing clothes on his bed, left the room. Augustine was getting ready mechanically — he was tired, wanted to sleep, and, judging by the voice of Agnes, she was also dissatisfied with what was happening. Their rooms were wall to wall. Dressed in a jacket, shirt and shorts, he stood, closing his eyes as he walked, leaning on the bed. He put two of his favorite books in his suitcase, and Edith packed his violin with the few sheet music he had. His mother looked into his room and, taking one of his suitcases, led him into the common corridor, where his collected father and Agnes were already standing, as well as Hume, who was sleeping on his father’s shoulder. Yunna was still in her room; next to her father there were several suitcases with their things. — Augustine, do you know what’s going on? — Agnes asked irritably. He just shrugged his shoulders, because he himself was in the dark about what was happening. The father nervously looked at his watch, the mother rushed around the second and third floors, hiding something and taking a few more suitcases, Edith stood and waited for further orders. The father looked gloomy and sad, he was silent, and Agnes and Augustine did not want to ask him questions. Realizing that something was wrong, Augustine finally woke up. There were notes of fear and tension in the air. As far as Augustine could remember, his mother had never been so cold. She had never performed so many mechanical actions, but today something went differently, something was happening, and Augustine, with eyes wide in horror, simply obediently obeyed his parents. Their mother took them all out of the house and they got into their father’s dusty and dirty car, which they had never used before. His father quickly started the engine, and as soon as they pulled out onto the road, Augustine looked back at their house. Edith saw them off, waving. Smile. He remembered that smile forever. This smile before the end, when a person faces circumstances and changes. A smile that freezes with inevitability and fear. On the way, father and mother constantly whispered to each other. Agnes and Yum were quietly sleeping in the back seats. The atmosphere was depressing and quiet. — Where are we going? — Augustine asked the question with curiosity. Night walks, like trips, were new to him: he, like all children, went to bed early. The mother shuddered and stopped her conversation with the father. — We are going to Uncle Wilhelm and Aunt Anna. “You will live with them for now,” she said quickly. Augustine spent the rest of the road trying to remember who they were, but he couldn’t point blank, he only remembered that they were relatives on his father’s side. The dark streets, barely lit, terrified the boy. The car kept rumbling over potholes and small dumps. The father drove sharply and pressed the gas pedal all the way, you could see how tense his face was. The mother was also nervous, trying to come up with something. The face seemed iron, bound by some unprecedented force. She sat half sideways, wanting to jump out of the car. Agnes woke up only when Augustine began to push her on the shoulder. He took her hand and walked together to a small brick house at the end of the street. Their relatives lived in a poor area and had a different surname — Weissenberg, while they themselves had the surname Greifenberg. Augustine turned his head, barely keeping up with his mother. The house they found themselves in was shabby and dark, the elevator barely moved, every now and then getting stuck halfway. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the doors were all scorched with something black. Augustine could not believe that this could even happen. Agnes didn’t even blink at that moment; the children seemed to be in another world. To another universe, where there were no beautiful tables, where there were no silverware and servants. A world where they will not always be surrounded by rows of adults, but left to their own devices. At some point, Augustine caught himself thinking that maybe this was a dream? Just a bad dream, and now he will wake up at home? But, having reached the third floor, the boy realized that no, this is the truth, the pure truth, the dark reality that is happening to him. The mother stood nervously at the door and just took a breath for a few seconds, then she knocked on the door, rang the bell several times and waited. Those few seconds when they stood at that door seemed like an eternity to the boy. He held his sister’s hand, and she kept leaning on his shoulder. It’s good that we didn’t have to carry little Yuma. Agnes still wanted to sleep, and Augustine kept holding her hand so that she would wake up. The door swung open with lightning speed, and the mother had to take a step back so that she would not hit it. A man of about twenty-five stood on the threshold, judging by his expression, he was extremely surprised to see them all here at such a late time. He looked at the children, then at the mother. — Yulona?! What are you doing here? “It was clear from his facial expression that he was shocked. — Well, don’t just stand there, come on in. “The mother let the children go first, and she went in last. Yunna began to be capricious in her mother’s arms, although she had been sleeping peacefully before. Following the man, a woman about his age appeared, wrapped in a robe. Augustine felt guilty that they had woken the people up in the middle of the night. What could possibly be so important as to wake them all up? Couldn’t it have waited until morning? The woman in the robe looked at them all. Augustine stood there, holding hands with his sister. The interior was terrible, gloomy and poor. “Wilhelm, I need to tell you something,” the mother said with a concerned look; she was in a hurry and nervously fiddled with her bag. The woman in the robe immediately became upset, walking deeper into the apartment. — Anna, take the child and put the kettle on! — the man shouted to her. Somewhere in the distance a noise and commotion was heard. “Children, come in,” the mother said in a stern voice. Augustine unclasped his hand from Agnes, who also stood, not understanding anything, and they moved along the corridor. At this time, Anna put the kettle on, took out cookies from the nightstand and took Yum from her husband’s arms, laying him and Yunna, who was curiously looking at their surroundings, on a large soft chair. Augustine walked into the sparsely furnished kitchen: he saw an old, shabby interior and a kitchen set with an old stove and several stools. The kitchen was small and smelled strongly of smoke. Anna, seeing that the children were not at ease, immediately invited them to the table and poured tea, she herself offered them cookies and, throwing out the ashtray with its contents, opened the window. Augustine quietly uttered words of gratitude, and Agnes repeated them after him. Anna, the mistress of the house, looked disheveled and was half asleep. She stretched her shoulders and, in order to somehow occupy the children, sat and asked them questions in order to distract them from the conversations in the next room, which, judging by the voices, were not very rosy. — Tell me, don’t you know why they brought us to you? — Augustine wanted to know this most of all: why was he woken up in the middle of the night and brought to this house? “No idea, but my husband is talking to your mom now, so I think we’ll find out soon enough.” — Anna smiled tightly as best she could. “Are you really our relatives on dad’s side?” We see you so rarely. — Anna smiled slightly, but this smile was bitter. Remembering the past, she thought for a minute or two, but it quickly passed. — Yes it’s true. We are not happy either, we would like to see you more often. — Why then do we have different surnames? — Agnes intervened in the conversation. — Well, it’s a long story, but in short, grandpa and grandma had a fight, but that doesn’t matter to you now. It’s just that my husband took his grandmother’s maiden name because he and his brother grew up with it, and your dad took his grandfather’s last name, which is why we have different last names. The conversation was interrupted by the slam of the door: Wilhelm walked with a heavy gait into the kitchen, where everyone was sitting, and looked at his wife. Then he looked around the children, Augustine; his gaze was gloomy. There was something about him that inspired fear that began in the chest and spread further. — Well, how did you talk? — Anna, not suspecting anything, looked at her husband, waiting for an answer to her question. Wilhelm paused and turned to the children. He gave the impression of a serious man. Anna is a heavier woman by nature. — Augustine and Agnes, I think that from tonight you will have to stay with us for a while. “His voice sounded kind, but it smelt false, and even Agnes and Augustine understood this. — What do you mean stay? — Augustine stood up from his chair. — For how long? — The children took turns asking questions. They got up from their chairs, wanting to hear the answer. However, the man was silent. “I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow, but for now go to bed.” Today you sleep on the sofa, we will make a bed for you. “His stern voice instantly cooled the children and forced them to sit back in their seats. Augustine, watching his sister begin to cry, took her hand and, getting off the chair, led her along, realizing that they were unlikely to receive an answer now. Maybe later or never? Anna and Wilhelm watched them go. Anna, seeing the girl’s sad face, wanted to follow and had already gotten up, but Wilhelm stopped her. — So what happened? Will you explain or not? “Anna began to get seriously scared and excited. — Yulona and her husband are sent to prison. — Wilhelm walked to the kitchen door and closed it tightly so that the children would not hear anything. “She came for us to take care of her children.” — Anna opened her eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hand. — And… for how long? — All that the woman could squeeze out of herself, looking at her husband with glazed eyes. “She was given five years, and he was given ten.” — Wilhelm looked for alcohol in the house, but when he didn’t find it, he was upset. This news came to him like a bolt from the blue. — And we will have to live with them all this time? Couldn’t she have said this in advance? — Anna began to raise her voice, slowly realizing what had befallen them in the middle of the night. The man was silent. Thoughts covered her like waves, she was confused, choked, and emotions in this case played a bad joke on her. — Anna, I’m not happy either, but I couldn’t refuse her. Besides, can you imagine what would happen to the children? They would be sent to boarding schools! And at least it will be better with family. — Wilhelm, and you agreed?! — The man didn’t say a word. Anna grabbed her head from not understanding what was happening. — Anna, please don’t scream, the children will hear! “He hissed, but Anna didn’t care; she was getting excited, realizing that in a situation in which they found themselves against their own free will, they couldn’t even do anything. — No, Wilhelm, just explain to me: you agreed to four children, two of which are infants. We ourselves can barely make ends meet. You can hardly earn much from your work in the workshop, and I certainly never earned much, moonlighting as a French teacher! The country is a mess, and I wouldn’t say there is an end in sight, and you just agree to this without consulting me? Wilhelm lit a cigarette, sat down in his place, and when he saw that there was no ashtray, he took a can lid that was lying nearby. — Anna, what was I supposed to do?! — the man lost his temper. — They no longer have relatives in Germany. What was I supposed to do?! — Anna interrupted her speech; in some ways, her husband was right. There was little he could do, and besides, these circumstances really did not depend on Yulona and Armen. — In any case, it is what it is. We will arrange the apartment and somehow live. Five years is not a long time. — He shook off the ashes. Wilhelm didn’t even know what he was more shocked about — the children or the fact that his brother was being sent to prison. “Five years is an eternity, Wilhelm.” In addition, they now need to be placed in school, they need to somehow be explained that their parents are in prison. — Anna got up and opened the door to make bed for the children. “Besides, she could at least somehow warn us, and not wake us up in the middle of the night.” It was selfishness on her part and nothing else! As if she didn’t know about Armen’s machinations. And no, Wilhelm, you will not convince me that this woman did not know anything and did not help him. She made him like this herself. It was she who gave him the idea to go into politics and build a business with this Arthur… or whatever his name is… — Anna left the kitchen, shaking with anger and indignation, and slammed the door. Two people were sitting in the living room. Augustine calmed Agnes. He missed his mother and his room. Anna did not give the impression of a respectable housewife, and their old apartment was not to Augustine’s taste, but he could not change anything. That night they slept poorly, Yunna was constantly capricious, Hume also did not want to sleep, Agnes constantly fidgeted, Augustine did not sleep a wink until dawn. His world collapsed, and, looking from the window of their new home, from which other gray houses could be seen, Augustine was sad and melancholy. What will happen next, and what will life require of them now?