The Imperial Revenge

Chapter 11

December 1920

Illness ran through the town that Winter. Spanish Flu, Tuberculosis, and Pneumonia were rapid this year. Ilya, Timofey, and some other men were very sick and stayed in bed. Ilya's grandmother was being forced into quarantine. Rodion and I have only gotten a cold and that was it. Him and I have been trying to figure out our food situation. There was short. Half-sack of potatoes and a loaf of bread wasn't going to be enough. So, trade became essential. Even if it was with other gangs at the bar.

"Why would Ilya sent a couple of kids to do business?" The gang member, Vladimir, said. I took a shot of vodka and shrugged at him.
"Listen Vladimir, I am not here to fool you. I am devoted to this way of life. Now, you can take this bag of potatoes and give us the small box of meat. It's a win-win."
Rodion got involved. "Alexei is such a smooth talker, isn't he? What do you, Vlad?"
Vlad exhaled loudly. "How about I give you the box of meat with this bottle of rum I have year. It's directly imported from Ireland. And you give me that bag of potatoes with the bottle of vodka right there on the shelf. Doesn't that sound lovely?"
I smirked and nodded at him. "Deal. It was pleasure doing business with you, Vladimir."
He slid a bottle of whiskey over to me and slid down the small crate of meat. The bartender handed me the bottle of vodka and I handed it to him. Rodion handed Vladimir the potatoes.

Rodion and I laughed as we ran down the street together. The meat was heavy. It was full of strips of pork, steak, and deer.
"You're lucky I am a smooth talker, Rodion! Otherwise, you'd be starving!"
"Maybe, but my good looks mean everything to our business! So I win!"
"That's false, my comrade! We're lucky, my God! Food for days!" I cheered and punched him in the shoulder. We ran all the way home laughing and cheering. We burst into the house and started to celebrate our success. All of the men that were healthy were receiving shots of rum from out bottle. They cheered as well at the amount of meat we received. I stood up on a cheer and held up my shot.
"We are hard-working men. Either if it's stealing, smuggling, or even working our jobs: we are true Russians. To us and how wealthy we're going to be!" I yelled. They all hoorayed and clicked glasses. I got the notion to go tell Timofey and Ilya about our success. So I took my shot, set it on the table, and went into the basement.

"Timofey! Ilya! You both will never believe what happened today! Timofey!" I smiled as I ran to Timofey's bed. I started to shake him harshly. His eyes refused to open and his skin was pale. There was only one notion I had. But that couldn't be? Timofey was only twenty-two-years old. It is highly unlikely that he's dead. I pressed two fingers to his wrist...nothing. There's was nothing. I gasped and cried out. Timofey, the brother I never had, was dead.

We sent for the doctor afterward to collect his body. Apparently, Timofey had Tuberculosis. Unfortunately, Tuberculosis is usually always fatal. We were to burn his pillow and blankets immediately and wash our hands with soap. My grief consumed me. He was my brother and now he's dead. What would I do without him? He would always hold an important place in my heart.

I sat on the stairs of the porch. I smoked a cigarette and had small sips of whiskey. I heard the front door open and close. Then, Rodion sat next to me.
"I'm sorry about your friend. Timofey was kind."
"Timofey taught me how to walk, shave, and ride horseback. He was my brother and teacher. Why must God always have to take the good ones?"
"God works in strange ways. I'm sure Timofey is heaven and looking down on you. I believe he loved you. Alexei, how much money do you have on you?"
"About six rubles. That's from all my work at the shoe store. Why do you ask?"
Rodion exhaled. "I believe it's time we join the smugglers."