Siberian Cold (Undergoing dramatic editing)

Chapter 1: Rabbits and Vodka

Chapter 1: Rabbits and Vodka

“Mama...”

“I know, dear.”

My small body was racked with a vicious shivering tremor. It was so cold… I let loose a breath of air, winded by the horribly low temperature. The air expelled from my nose and mouth immediately crystallized and evaporated as fog, over and over again, leaving a physical testament to the frigid conditions I was so accustomed to. I was used to being cold by now; I never known a moment in my relatively sort life where I was truly warm. Even in my sleep, the insanely icy temperatures were at the back of my conscience. I shivered again, turning my attention to my mother, who had just succeeded in starting a weak fire. Even sitting on the only piece of furniture in the house, an old chair, in front of an open flame dressed in full winter gear, I was still freezing.

“Ivan.” She signaled for me to join quickly and I felt a slight sure of pleasure as the flames took on a reasonable height. As I made my way to her side, she grabbed me, pressing my body against her own in an attempt to help warm me up. I instinctively burrowed my face into her chest, enjoying every second of the warmth her embrace offered me. I kept my head there for several minutes, but eventually stopped when I felt the fire starting to warm the back of neck. Noticing my movement, she started to cradle me.

“Are you still cold?” she asked with concern.

“It’s better,” I replied. “But I’m hungry.”

 “So am I, Vanya,” she answered gently. “And so is your Papa, but we’re doing the best we can. For now, just sleep. It’s late and you’re tired.”

“It’s too cold to sleep,” I complained. She smiled affectionately and held me against her chest again.

“I’ll make it warm.” As she pressed my head against the bottom of her neck and began to hum, I felt my eyes get heavy despite the uncomfortable wintry air around us and the nagging of my empty stomach. Right around that time, my father came into the room with a heavy blanket. He sat down next to Mama and threw the cover over all three of us; my mother lightly shoved me under the blanket. Sitting in her lap, I curled up against her warm stomach and felt tired; the combined warmth from the fire, her own body heat, and the blanket made me drowsy. As I began to doze, Mama and Papa started talking.

“Have you started looking for work?” Papa asked softly.

 “Nyet. I can’t. This weather is ridiculous, Yuri,” my mama complained. “We can’t even move around our own house, let alone leave Ivan unattended for any period of time.”

“We could,” Yuri murmured.

“And he’d die.”

 “Have you found a sitter?”

“Everyone has their own problems, Yuri,” she sighed. “It’s rough around here right now as it is. Nobody can safely give up the time required to care for another person’s child. And we couldn’t afford a sitter anyhow.” Mama reached under the blanket and began to caress my head lovingly.

“I know, Anya, but we’re not making enough money to get by... And we definitely don’t want to lose the house now; I’ve haven’t experienced weather this cold since I was a boy.”

“We can’t lose the house,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s something... Ivan is so young; he’d freeze to death if there wasn’t some kind of shelter over his head.” Mama ran her hand down onto my clothes, which were, although I didn’t know it at the time, pitifully tattered and thin. I felt a second hand press down on my body through the blanket, this time from my papa.