Val Karren - The Deceit of Riches

As I started gingerly down the river bluff stairs under the Chkalov monument I heard a car pull up behind me and glimpsed quickly the lights of the black Lada. I ducked down so my head wasn’t visible from above and crouched as I continued down the stairs, now at a quick clip trotting as fast as my ribs would allow. I heard the car rev its motor in the morning silence, spin around and head quickly down Georgiyevskiy Syezd to the lower river embankment. Luckily that road was in the opposite direction of where I was headed before it switched back in the direction of the river station. I had a few minutes to go and hide myself in the alleyways of the lower old city or in the shadows of the kremlin walls.

Halfway down the stairs I veered left instead of descending the entire staircase which intersects with the lower embankment boulevard, and jogged a bit toward the Conception Tower of the Kremlin to stand behind the ramparts and watch the black Lada race by. As I reached the tower I heard the frantic motor of the small car zip by below behind the trees. For now, I had eluded them. I continued walking along the wall of the Kremlin between the Conception Tower and St. John’s tower in view of the chapel of St. John the Baptist. From there I could see the river station in the morning sunshine at the junction with the Oka River. I stopped with the realization that I wouldn’t be able to make it to the train station and if I did, they would be waiting for me there, anticipating that I would run, as I wasn’t in my apartment. I stood still and watched the few cars down below the slope zipping around the squares and alleys. I was frozen with fear and could feel the net closing in around me. I slowly descended the stairs rounding St. John’s Tower and was resigned that if I ran, they would catch me. If I stayed still, they would eventually find me. I was hungry and I hurt all over after the running and the jarring on the stairs. I just wanted to lay down and let whatever was going to happen, just happen. I sauntered further down gradual slopes of Ivanovskiy Syezd having given up. I walked casually through the intersection and headed toward the river bank where I knew I could at least be hidden from the street above as I slowly made my way toward the bus stop in front of the river station.

As I emerged from the buildings I glanced left and saw the tail lights of a lone black Lady waiting in front of the river station five blocks further up. I walked out from the buildings and crossed the street as if I was in no hurry, showing no intent to hide myself from anybody. The brake lights went out and the Lada lurched forward to make a u-turn and head in my direction. I did not hurry my pace. I reached the riverside and trotted down the embankment stairs to the mooring berths for the river boats and began walking toward the station. I could hear my pursuers up above speeding toward me but I could no longer see them, and they couldn’t see me.

As I paced myself up the moorings and along the boats tied up for the overnight stay in Nizhniy I could hear the crews cooking below decks, preparing breakfast, and an officer giving orders above deck to prepare for departure. As I passed the Pushkin, a long, low sitting boat that was half the size of what I had become used to the summer before, I noticed another. Just as one would bump into an old friend and not recognize her for a split second, there was the Giorgiy Zhukov sitting in the water right behind the Pushkin, tied up and quietly bobbing up and down with the river’s current. How many times I had been so happy to see this noble boat after a long, scary day in Moscow, or after my harrowing visit to the hospital in Kazan! Now again the relief was immediate as I knew that I had friends and refuge in sight. Without any hurry or rush I sauntered down the gangplank and stepped on board, like I had arrived home.

I ducked inside the open door of the upper deck dining room and hid myself behind the bulkhead of the boat where no windows would betray me. Just sitting down was relief enough. Here I would be safe and could find the rest and refuge I needed with people I trusted with my life.

After two hours, the lights of the ship’s dining room were switched on, at seven o’clock. I woke from my half sleeping state, groggy and exhausted from very little sleep and too much excitement. I was immediately aware of the pain all over my body. Feeling that enough time had passed to have certainly eluded the henchmen trying to catch me, I slipped below deck before the crew found me stowed away in the dining room, to find Nikolai. I headed straight to the bar. Before I could make my way to the bow of the vessel I saw him standing alone on the water side railing enjoying his breakfast of a cigarette and orange juice, gazing at the morning sun on the river’s current.

As I opened the door from the broad stairwell he turned to greet who he thought would be a fellow smoker. When he realized it was me, he nearly dropped his glass into the water. He gave me a warm man hug and a kiss on both cheeks while exhaling smoke out of his nose. His bristly, unshaven cheeks didn’t make it any more enjoyable.

“Peter, what a huge surprise! Nobody told me that you would be joining us so early. I thought you would join us in July!” He was sincerely pleased to see me.

“Well, if I’m welcome to join you all this week, while the school holidays are still on, then I’d be happy to sail with you this week,” I tried to hide my desperate situation from him, at least for some time.

“Well, we just completed the ship’s manifest last night and submitted it to the river authority but I am pretty sure that Irina could amend it with the captain this morning. I just don’t know if we have a spare cabin,” he was all business.

“Friend, can I ask you not to report me as a passenger on the ship please?” I looked him in the eyes with a pleading gaze.

“Is there something wrong? You know that if you aren’t on the passenger manifest that they could take you off the boat at any port. You know this.” Nikolai began to suspect something wrong.

“I know, I know, but, I am… I am in a very difficult situation right now. I am in some trouble and I need to vanish for a few days and not be on any manifests. I can stay on the boat without going ashore if we see that a river authority is going to tick the boxes anywhere. We both know how to get around that anyway, right?” I proffered.

“What is so bad, Peter? Why do you have to hide? What’s happened?” Nikolai pressed me for details.

“Let’s just say I got on the bad side of a local criminal group. They are determined to close my mouth one way or another. I have to get out of Nizhniy and to Moscow without being noticed and I can’t take the train or a taxi in town without somebody snitching on me,” I confessed to my friend.

“Peter, this sounds very serious. Have you gone to the police?” he asked.

“Nikolai, that’s pretty rich coming from a guy like you!” I quipped. He chuckled at the irony. “I can’t go to the police because the mayor is also involved… and the FSB. I am sure that all three groups are looking for me right now.” I added the last bit quickly so as not to call too much attention to this latter fact.

Nikolai nearly swallowed his cigarette. “What in the name of the Virgin Mary have you been doing?” he coughed while exhaling.

“My friend, it’s a very long, complicated story,” I said heavily while leaning over the railing to gaze at the Volga. I didn’t want to look my friend in the eye and admit that tomorrow I could be floating face down in the river.

“Well, I’m glad you used your time well, Peter. But the FSB just doesn’t turn up for no reason,” he said sarcastically and turned to watch the rising sun with me.