The Siberian Adventure
It was an average day in the Petrov household. You could hear a female voice calling out from the sitting room. “Oh Dimitri!” yelled mother. “Yes Mother?” Dimitri asked as he stumbled into the sitting room, a bottle of Vodka in hand. “Dimitri, it is with great pain I tell you this but it is time you leave my house.” “Mother, but why?” Dimitri asked in desperation. “It is your drinking problem. You always have that bottle of Vodka with you! You never ever put it down. I can no longer support you.” “Mother….” “Get out Dimitri.” “…but….!” “I said get out!” With that, Dimitri stumbled out the door, all the while cursing under his breath. Dimitri lives in Moscow. In 1953, everyone was a communist. It was Soviet Russia, therefore most people lived off of Potatoes and Vodka. Dimitri’s mother was a drinker herself, like all good Russians at the time. The problem with Dimitri was he was a heavy, heavy alcoholic. Without the bottle he was nothing. He was 35 years old, a WW2 veteran. He was wounded by Germans while defending Stalingrad. It was then he turned to the bottle to ease the pain. His father was a veteran himself. He was killed in the Russian Civil War in 1918. That doesn’t matter though. The past is in the past. Now however, Dimitri is just walking. Walking to the east to an unknown location. “In the name of Stalin’s mustache how did I get like this?” Dimitri was desperate. 15 minutes passed, then 30, then a hour, then 2, then almost 3 hours passed. All of that time was only spent well…. Walking. At this point it was getting late. When the sun goes down in the Moscow Winter, it gets very cold. Dimitri spotted a snowy bench in the darkness.
“I guess this is where I will sleep.” Dimitri walked over to the bench, placed his vodka underneath it, and then laid down.
“Oh shit what time is it?” Dimitri said, raising his head. His hands were shaking and his head was pounding. All he needed was a drink and it would surely stop. Dimitri slowly got up, rubbing his head. He reached under the bench to retrieve his pride and joy. He didn’t feel the bottle. He looked under the bench. All he saw was some snow. The vodka was gone. All of it. Stolen in the middle of the night. “No… no… no this can’t be!” After a few minutes had past, he started to accept it. His warm blanket, his suit armor, his only jacket, was gone. Dimitri began walking again until finally he stumbled upon a liquor store. He walked in, bought a few bottles of his beloved fire water and put the bottles in a bag. He couldn’t risk them getting stolen again. Dimitri left the store and continued walking, however now he had a plan. He decided to catch a train and head to Siberia where he could start a new life. He’s heard how some people, after the war, went there for work. He stayed in Moscow with his Mother but now that’s not an option. He walked to the train station, bought a ticket with the little money he had, and hopped on the train.
The train ride was easy but long. It took about 6 days to arrive. Eventually, Dimitri was able to step off the train and head out to start a new life in Siberia, still with two bottles of Vodka left. He decided to go to a local oil field and try to get a job. Before he went there, Dimitri knew he would have to buy some more Vodka. He only had two bottles which wouldn’t last long at the rate he’d been drinking. He drank a lot of Vodka on the train ride over to Siberia. It was stressful for him. He’s never been away from Moscow since coming home from the war. Actually, Dimitri has never even left Russia and most likely never will. During the war he was only ever deployed to different cities around Russia to fight back against the Germans. He did so to the best of his ability until getting shot in Stalingrad. That’s when he got shipped back to Moscow, his days as a soldier over forever. After getting some more Vodka, Dimitri is finally going to the oil field. It will take about a hour to get there but it is Dimitri’s only hope. He began to walk.
Dimitri eventually arrived at the oil field. He found a little booth next to the entrance. “Hello sir, I need some help.” The man in the booth opened the slot in the window to hear Dimitri better. “What was that?” asked the man. “I am in need of a job. I have very little money and am homeless. I’ll accept any position you have.” Dimitri really was desperate. He’s been on his own for about 10 days now and hasn’t gotten very much to eat. He didn’t have the money for food after buying all the vodka. “We do have a couple positions open but I don’t think you’ll like it.” Dimitri was listening. He wasn’t sure the man would offer him anything at all. “I can give u a position as a janitor in the administrative office. Only the night shift is available.” “I’ll take it sir. Thank you so much.” Dimitri was overwhelmed with joy. Maybe now he would be able to earn some money and buy some food or maybe find a place to live. The man told Dimitri he would start the next night, and pointed to where the administrative building was. It looked old and forgotten. Dimitri knew he most likely wouldn’t be able to drink on the job so as soon as he walked away from the man, he began drinking. Over the period of about a hour he drank almost the whole bottle which for him, that’s being conservative with his drinking. Once, he finished two and a half bottles in a little over a hour. He wasn’t to proud about that. He got so drunk he couldn’t walk or talk. Eventually, he passed out.
When he woke up it was still light out. He went to a local shop and checked the time. He realized it was 2:00PM. Only problem was, it was the next day. He took a few sips of some Vodka and started to walk around until 6:00. He had to be at the Oil Field at 7:00. His shift was 7:00PM-5:00AM. Eventually 5:30 rolled around and Dimitri tried his best to put himself together. He didn’t want to look like total shit. After getting ready, he took a slow walk to the Administrative Building from the lot behind the Liquor Store. He got to work at 6:55 and walked in. He couldn’t see anybody. The old building seemed completely empty. He looked around and saw a mop, bucket of water, and a sign that said “Start with the bathrooms.” Dimitri walked down the hall and took a left. He entered the bathroom and immediately wanted to walk out. It was a smell he’s never experienced before. It was horrid. All over the bathroom was oil and feces. It scared him to death but he knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath and went into the bathroom doing his best to clean every inch of it. It took him over a hour just to do one bathroom. The other one was worse. You couldn’t even see the real wall it was covered so heavily. It took him almost 2 hours to finish that one. The rest of his shift consisted of just going up and down the halls cleaning the floors. The next few nights at work were exactly the same. Somehow the bathroom was always the same. Full of feces and oil. Things started to look like they may begin to turn around. That is until, disaster struck…
One night Dimitri was at work and decided to take a little break to smoke a cigarette. He walked over to one of the large barrels of oil and leaned up against it. He lit up his cigarette. After a few minutes passed, he was finished and dropped his cigarette. As he was walking away, the dead grass next to the barrel of oil caught fire. He began to freak out. Frantically he tried to put out the fire but it was way to late. He was about to run away when it happened. There was a loud BOOM. The oil barrel exploded and caused a chain reaction. All the barrels exploded. Dimitri was dead. Pulverized in the explosion.
The phone rang and a woman answered. “Hello?” “Hello Ms. Petrov. I’m sorry to tell you this but your son Dimitri… he… he was killed in the Siberian Oil Explosion last night.” “No no no no this isn’t true! This can’t be true! My son has to be alive he has to be!” “I’m sorry for your loss Ms. Petrov. I must go now. Goodbye.” Dimitri’s mother was devastated. She believed it was all her fault. After all, she was the one who kicked him out of the house in the first place. She couldn’t take it. It hurt so so bad. She walked to a room in the house that seemed like it hasn’t been visited in ages. It was her husbands personal room. This is where he used to store his guns. She opened the door, and entered. She saw a drawer and opened it. There was a single pistol inside, loaded. She picked it up. She stared at it for a few minutes. She pointed it at her head, and pulled the trigger.