Maria finally woke about six am, and could hear someone in the kitchen.
“Mummy,” she called as she looked across the room to where her sister was snuggled sleeping soundly. Her sister was the only one in the house that had had good night’s sleep.
Her grandmother came into the room and smiled down at Maria, who had propped herself up against the headboard.
“Are you ready for your first day at school?” she whispered quietly, not wanting to wake her sister.
“I think so,” said Maria.
“Are you a little nervous?” her grandmother asked.
“I think so,” Maria replied, yawning. “Where’s mummy?”
“In the kitchen. Come on, let’s get you washed and dressed and ready for school. Are you hungry?”
“Uh huh.”
Maria’s grandmother wheeled Maria’s chair over to the bed while she wiggled her body to the side. She wasn’t yet used to her chair, although she wanted to be as independent as possible, she still needed a helping hand getting from the bed into the chair. Maria’s grandmother leaned across and hooked her arms under Maria’s and, on a “one, two, three,” lifted Maria into her chair.
“You are getting heavy,” her Grandmother said jokingly, scuffing Maria’s hair.
Maria wheeled herself into the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her hair, and then into the kitchen.
“Good morning sweetheart,” Maria’s mother said, kissing Maria on her cheek.
“Are you ready for school?” she asked.
“Grandma’s just asked me that,” Maria replied.
“Are you ready for breakfast then?”
“Sure am.”
As Maria sat at the little wooden breakfast table, her sister called from the bedroom.
“Coming,” her mother called. She disappeared into the bedroom, returning holding Maria’s sister.
“Do you want to come to school with me today?” Maria, with a mouth full of black bread and jam, said to her sister.
Nadezhda sister nodded, rubbing her eyes, still half asleep and not really understanding what was going on.
Maria’s mother stooped down and Maria kissed her sister on the cheek. He sister reached out and poked a finger in the bread and jam Maria was eating. Maria looked up at her sister and screwed her face in disgust. “Yuck!” she said, eying the bread with her sister’s finger imprinted into it.
“I think you might be hungry too!” said her mother carrying her sister over to the other side of the table and plonked her on the seat.
“And you’re getting heavy too!” she said playfully poking a finger in Nadezhda’s tummy, which made her smile. She turned to put some milk on the stove.
“You can come to school with me one day,” Maria said in between a bite full of bread.
Nadezhda looked at Maria confused.
“The day will come soon enough,” her grandmother said as she poured the warm milk into Maria’s cup and her sister’s beaker. “Now eat up and hurry along, we don’t want you to be late on your first day at school, do we?”
***
All eyes were on Maria and her mother as she was wheeled through the school gates. There was no ramp over the few steps up into the school building, so Maria’s mother turned Maria’s chair about face and gently pulled her up each step, step by step with everyone standing around watching. Maria smiled and gave a shy little wave to the children gathered around. One of the children ran up to her. It was Sofia, whom she remembered from kindergarten and from her dreams, and who she used to play with long ago before her accident. Sofia hugged Maria and walked by the side of her chair as she was pushed down the short corridor towards the head teacher who had just emerged from her office.
“So this is little Maria,” said the kindly looking headmistress. “Hello Maria. Welcome to our school. I see you have found a friend already?” she said looking at Sofia. Maria nodded and smiled.
“She will be fine with us,” she said looking up at Maria’s mother.” We have made a few provisions for her, the best we could. Don’t worry yourself, she will be all right.”
“Thank you,” she replied and then looked down at Maria. “OK sweetheart, see you at the end of the day. Have a nice time,” Maria’s mother said, bending down kissing Maria on the cheek.
“Don’t worry, I will look after her,” little Sofia said and hugged her once more.
Maria’s mother turned away and walked back down the corridor with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The hardest thing for Maria was watching all her friends play and run around and have fun while she could only sit in her little wheelchair longing to join them. She missed playing ‘catch me’ with her friend Sofia the most. Sofia had found another friend to play with which, at first, made Maria really angry, and then a little sad. Time and time again, when she sat outside by the side of the playground watching everyone play, she would remember her dream of Sofia trying to grab Maria’s coat on the ice rink, laughing and giggling and whizzing round and round as fast as lightening, ‘Catch me’ used to be her favorite game and she wished those days would return that she could once again chase Sofia and Sofia could chase her. Instead she sat in her little chair while everyone around her rushed about.
Most of the children were fine and kind and occasionally helpful, but, like in every school, some taunted her and called her names. She knew she was different but was determined to be strong and not to let the taunts affect her, but secretly late at night she would often cry into her pillow. Maria’s mother and grandmother would also lay awake in the living room where they both slept staring up at the ceiling listening to Maria sobbing herself to sleep. Only when there was silence would they fall asleep themselves.
Growing up without legs wasn’t as hard as Maria, her family and everyone around her had thought it was going to be. They had eventually managed to get the local housing association to build a small ramp over the steps into her apartment block. The school was only a few minutes away and they too managed to get a small ramp built over the few steps into the building. She was a bright girl and quickly caught up the missing two years and within just eight short months of attending school and studying hard at home she was back amongst children of her own age.
They didn’t have a car and it was too difficult getting a wheelchair on and off the bus, and so they were generally confined to the area around where they lived, but there was a park nearby and on warm days after school Maria would be taken by either her mother or grandmother for a walk. Maria liked the park as she could watch the butterflies flutter over the grass and between the flowers and listen to the bees and stare at the birds circling above and the fluffy white clouds passing by. She watched with envy as children climbed and played on the frames and apparatus that were to be found in most parks and open areas in her village. Most of the children would rush over and say hello, spending a few minutes with Maria, chatting about the things young children chat about, and then they would be off, back onto the apparatus, swinging and sliding and playing while Maria sat and watched. She laughed as they laughed and imagined herself climbing with them as they climbed.
Although cramped, their home was a happy home, with lots of fun and laughter and silliness that Maria remembered so fondly from when it was just her and her mother. Her grandmother was sometimes overbearing and occasionally bossy but there were rarely any major disagreements and hardly ever a raised voice or angry word. Mostly it was fun and they all had a good time together. Maria’s grandmother was an enormous help and ,without her, her mother simply couldn’t cope. While Maria’s mother was at work and Maria and her sister at school and kindergarten, Maria’s grandmother washed and cleaned and cooked. She would also collect the girls from school as they invariable finished before her mother finished work. It wasn’t always easy, but they fell into a routine that suited everyone. Maria was learning to l
ive without legs. Her arms became strong and she became more and more independent, preferring to wheel than to be wheeled. She also developed an inner strength, a power not to be afraid of the world around her. She ignored the occasional taunts and cruelty of others and grew to be confident in herself and her abilities. She loved school and when all her other classmates were going out or hanging around, she locked herself in her room and studied. She knew she could never go to the local social club, or cruise with her friends, or go to parties, or go out for walks in the forest, or go to the swimming baths, so she studied and read instead. She wasn’t the top of the class, but she wasn’t at the bottom either and she knew in herself that she was better at school than many of the students who had legs.
Time passed and a new man entered their home life. Her mother met him at a party for the employees at her work. It wasn’t a big party, but employees and their partners were both invited, and one of her female colleagues, who was also single, said that rather than go to the party alone, she was going to bring an old school friend. He was just a friend; they had known each other since Fourth Grade at school. Tall, well-built, handsome with rough workers hands, deep dark eyes and a warm smile. Maria’s mother’s friend mingled with the others at the party, occasionally glancing over and grinning broadly at the two sitting away from everyone chatting together quietly in the corner. It had been a long while since Maria’s mother had been in the company of a man and she was secretly delighted as he appeared to attach himself to her. Although she had had little time for romance since Maria’s accident and, it seemed, even less time to think about it, as Maria grew older her mother thought more and more about the possibility. She was lonely for male company and the affection and warmth that a man would give her.
Maria’s mother started to see Nikoly more often, occasionally meeting him after work or at the weekend. They would walk, or go to the small cinema, or sit in a café - she drinking coffee and he drinking vodka. Maria’s mother didn’t like the fact that he drank, it reminded her of her ex-husband, but he didn’t seem to drink that much and anyway, all Russian men drank. There was nothing that she could do to change the drinking habits of almost every man in Russia! Nevertheless and aside from the vodka, he seemed a good man and the only man, for a very long time, that had shown her any attention and affection. It wouldn’t be long before both Maria and her sister would grow up and leave home, going to some university somewhere, or even go to Moscow, and her mother was getting older. She didn’t want to lose this opportunity - she might not have another one and she didn’t want to grow old alone.
After a few months Nikoly moved in and Maria now had a stepfather as well as another room mate, as her grandmother had to now share her and her sister’s room. For a while everything seemed perfect and they were a happy family until just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. It was 1991, Maria had just turned eleven and her stepfather returned from work earlier than usual drunk and rambling and swearing and cursing having just lost his job. The factory where he worked was marked for privatisation and he was no longer needed. Maria never remembered her real father or his drunkenness, but deep in the recesses of her sub-conscious mind her stepfather’s drunkenness instilled a fear in Maria - a fear of something she somehow recognised and understood.
Maria’s mother wasn’t yet home from work and Maria and her sister hid in their room as her stepfather swore and cursed at their grandmother, who tried her best to calm him for the sake of the girls. From that day forward there would be many days when he would come home drunk. He would have spells of sobriety, sometimes weeks when he would focus himself on making his way round the various factories and industrial plants looking for work, but increasingly as he was turned away, he turned more and more to drink. His rage and anger grew, as did his deepening hatred of the new Russian government and sadness and despair at the collapse of the old Soviet Union. At least under the old Administration he would never have been out of work; there was always a job for him and there was always food on the table. As a Communist Party Member he was once valued under the Soviet Government, but now he was no one, nothing. It seemed no one cared for anyone in Russia anymore, apart from themselves.
Although he never hit Maria or her sister, there were times when he did hit Maria’s mother, normally when she was trying to calm him or sober him up. He would occasionally shove her hard up against a wall, or throw her to the floor, or slap her hard across the face. Sometimes, when they were alone together in their bedroom he would aggressively force himself upon her. Maria would hear her mother’s sobs and cries of stop, which were always ignored.
During times of abstinence, her stepfather would recognize what he had done and ask for forgiveness, with promises that he would never behave like that again. In between his bouts of drunkenness they would be fairly happy. They would go to the park or take a boat on the lake, go to the cinema or take a stroll in the forest when he would always demand that he push Maria’s wheelchair because of the difficult terrain. He would be like any other devoted father until his search for work commenced and the refusals followed one after another, and the bottle re-appeared.
Chapter Four
Kidnapped
It was early evening midway through the summer. Maria, her sister and a few friends were sitting lazily on the grass watching everyone. It was warm and sunny, the air smelt of freshly cut grass and everyone felt relaxed and comfortable and enjoying the first festival of the year. When summers arrive in that part of Siberia the whole world seems to instantly change; flowers, almost overnight, suddenly bloom into every conceivable shape and colour, the green of the trees shine and dance magically against the burning sun and birds frantically dart around, making as much noise as possible, as though they knew they didn’t have that long and should make the most of it.
Butterflies gently fluttered over the heads of everyone sitting on the grass borders which separate the flower beds and pathways. Maria sat on the blanket with her friends laughing and chatting about all the things teenagers generally chat about. She had just turned 17, had posters of pop groups on her bedroom walls and teen magazines under her bed. She thought of romance and whispered and giggled as good-looking boys of her own age passed where they were sitting. She leant back against the wheel of her wheelchair, which was just behind her, gazed up at the clear evening sky and wondered what it would be like kissing a boy for the very first time. The great thing about Siberian evenings is that is doesn’t get dark until well past midnight and the sky remains clear and blue and the sun shines until very late. Maria stared up at the noisy birds racing overhead and imagined herself in the arms of a boy.
Something caught her attention and brought her back down to earth. She watched as a group of teenage boys settled themselves on the grass across the path directly in front of where Maria and her friends were sitting. The four boys were drinking beer, laughing loudly and playfully pushing and taunting one another as they sat themselves down, gazing over to where the girls were sitting. She didn’t recognize any of the boys accept the tallest - she had noticed him earlier wondering around the village square. She had thought he looked nice and giggled with her sister as he passed close by. He seemed to stand out from the others; tall, handsome, nice eyes and a lovely warm smile. She stared at him as he fooled around with the other boys, stealing an occasional glance over to where Maria was sitting. And every time he did, she blushed a little and turned towards her sister and friends, pretending to have been listening to what they were saying. Her sister saw a friend from school walking with her mother in the distance across the small square. Jumping up she turned to Maria and promised she would be back in a minute and raced off towards them. Maria watched as her sister rushed up behind her friend, grabbing her by the shoulder. Her friend turned abruptly and they both burst out laughing as she recognised who had made her jump. She watched as her sister greeted her friend’s mother and then, tucking her arms round her friend’s, resumed walking with them and away from
Maria. Maria looked towards the boy again. She seemed fixated - it was hard to keep her eyes off him. Maria had tried to avoid all thoughts of boys and relationships and love, she knew that being an invalid with no legs nobody would ever like her, let alone want to date and kiss her. The growing woman inside her yearned for affection and love and warmth, but she fought her inner feelings and desires and tried to understand who and what she was. and believed that no one would ever want her in any romantic way.
But as she stared at him he kept staring back at her. She turned and looked around to see if perhaps he was actually smiling at someone else, perhaps someone prettier nearby, but there was no one apart from her and her friends, and he definitely wasn’t looking at any of them. “He is beautiful and he’s looking straight at me,” she thought to herself as she gazed at him. She didn’t turn away but, as he smiled at her, found herself smiling back. Her heart raced as she watched him get up, bend to whisper something to one of his friends who nodded and smiled back to him, and walk over to where they were sitting. By the time he was standing over her looking down, she felt as though she was going to explode.
“I’m Sergey,” he said crouching, offering his hand. Her friends had suddenly fallen silent and stared up at him. “Hello, I’m Maria,” they giggled as she shook his hand. She stared at him thinking how wonderful he was and imagined herself being whisked off to a faraway fairytale land.
“I work over at the tracks,” he said pointing to the rail station which was just a short walk from the village square. ”I am going to meet some friends there in a minute, why don’t you come with us?”
“I can’t,” she said but thinking to herself how much she would love to and that, at that moment in time, she would probably go anywhere and do anything he wanted. Never had a boy asked her to join him, and she still wasn’t sure this was happening. It seemed like a dream, a surreal fantasy that you somehow felt wasn’t possible but seemed so true.
Maria's Story Page 6