A Hundred Sweet Promises

by Sepehr Haddad

  Nasrosoltan, attempting to console the distraught woman, said, “If you wish, I can ask at the conservatory if one of the students would like to sit in for you while you get better.”

  Madame Lazar replied, “I thank you for your kindness, Monsieur Minbashian. The family is now on vacation at their Crimean estate for the new year. The next lesson we have scheduled is in a month, thanks be to God, or else I would not have time to find a suitable replacement. And I appreciate your offer of assistance in searching for another piano tutor; however, the grand duke and duchess are quite particular about whom they let meet their daughter. This is because, as you must understand, she is a shy and reserved girl, and I must add that she is also quite beautiful, so they want to keep her protected.”

  Nasrosoltan responded, “I totally understand; perhaps then we can ask for a female student, so there will be no misgivings. If you agree, I shall begin inquiries on your behalf when I get back to the conservatory.”

  Upon hearing this, an exasperated Madame Lazar replied, “My dear Monsieur Minbashian, I already know that altogether there are only a handful of female students at the conservatory, and only one studies the piano. But, in any case, the family would not want a young girl of the same age tutoring their daughter.”

  Then suddenly, and without any warning, Madame Lazar stunned an unsuspecting Nasrosoltan. “Please forgive my forwardness, Monsieur Minbashian, but I have heard you perform the piano in this very apartment, and you have an exceptional gift. You are already a graduate of the conservatory and have studied under the most impressive musical minds of our country. Again, forgive me for being so bold in what I am about to ask, but I humbly request that if her family accepts, you agree to tutor the princess in my stead until I recover from my injury.” Madame Lazar rattled off the string of compliments about him so rapidly that it took Nasrosoltan a moment to register the implication of the request.

  However, before he could say anything, she continued persuasively, “In this way, I will be able to retain the position, and you will be doing me a great service. I have known this family since this girl was ten years old, and they trust my judgment concerning her musical studies. The grand duchess will understand that a cultured gentleman such as yourself, with an impressive musical heritage, will be a great addition to the other talented tutors for her daughter.”

  The last thing Nasrosoltan expected was such an unwelcome request, which took him completely by surprise. Even though he did not want to show it, especially to someone who was a tutor, he considered the task of individually tutoring this girl, who was probably not serious in her music study, quite beneath him.

  He saw himself as an accomplished composer who had studied for years in the conservatory alongside the most successful composers of the day. He had taught music to military officers and had conducted military bands. Still, most importantly, the king of Persia had bestowed upon him the title of Nasrosoltan for his service to his homeland in music education. A favor that the Madame considered an honor, the tutoring of a grand duke’s daughter, Nasrosoltan saw merely as an inconvenience he wanted no part of.

  A routine social visit to Madame Lazar for tea turned into an uncomfortable encounter. Nasrosoltan tried to diplomatically defuse a problematic situation in which this request was thrust upon him.

  Trying to hide his palpable unease, he offered a brusque reply. “I am indeed flattered that you considered me; however, as you are aware, the conservatory demands all of my attention. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to tutor the princess.”

  Madame Lazar sensed Nasrosoltan’s displeasure but also did not want to dampen their newly developed relationship. Even though she was visibly distressed at his refusal to even consider tutoring the princess, she said, “My dear Monsieur, I understand how demanding the conservatory coursework is. Thank you for listening to me ramble on; I appreciate your kindness. I am sure I will think of some other way in the next few weeks. Hopefully, God will answer my prayers.”

  They both saved face and agreed to meet up again during the second week of January, after the Russian Orthodox Christmas.

  Chapter 14

  A Most Unfortunate Turn of the Wheel

  Rustam invited Nasrosoltan for New Year’s Eve celebrations at the newly built Astoria Hotel, which had just opened a month earlier but already was a landmark at the heart of St. Isaac’s Square. The Astoria had been commissioned a few years back, so it would be ready in time for May 1913 to celebrate the Romanov dynasty’s tercentenary anniversary.

  The hotel had more than two hundred bedrooms and fifty-two private suites, the fanciest restaurants, and elegant ballrooms. The Astoria was where the high society of St. Petersburg was gathered in the hotel’s Winter Garden ballroom to attend the most lavish party of the year.

  Rustam had become a wealthy iron magnate through his business ventures with the company building and extending the Trans-Siberian Railway. He decided that whenever he was in the capital city, he would stay in a private suite at the Astoria. He was a man who liked to be served, and service was this hotel’s specialty.

  The evening’s cuisine, amongst other culinary delights, included Russian delicacies of black and red caviar, beef stroganoff, and the ever-present chilled vodkas. The more gratuities one gave, the better the service. Rustam had developed a reputation for easily parting with his money, especially after being served one too many rounds of his favorite drink. He enjoyed being treated like aristocracy. The attention shown to him by the servers and attendants made other revelers at the party murmur amongst themselves, wondering who he might be in terms of rank and station in life.

  Nasrosoltan, through association with Rustam, also received much attention, especially from the young ladies looking for wealthy potential suitors, mistaking him for one.

  Around two o’clock in the morning on New Year’s Day, inebriated and fatigued from the party's excesses, the two left the festivities by carriage. But instead of taking Nasrosoltan to his apartment, Rustam instructed the driver to go to an address on the other side of the city. It was a frigid evening with occasional snow showers, and the biting-cold wind chills through the imperial capital were enough to wake them from their drunken stupor.

  When Nasrosoltan inquired where they were going, Rustam answered, “To visit a lady!”

  A surprised Nasrosoltan then asked, “Dear friend, please tell me, why in heaven’s name would we leave a venue with the most beautiful women in St. Petersburg to go across the city in the snow and the cold to visit another lady?”

  Rustam laughed and said, “This lady is different, for if she smiles upon you tonight, you will leave happier than you were when the ladies at the Astoria were smiling at you. However, if she does not favor you, you will wish you had never come along.”

  Nasrosoltan asked, “What are you speaking about?”

  Rustam replied, “I am speaking of Lady Luck, for we are going to a vokzal!”

  Nasrosoltan thought Rustam had too much to drink, for vokzal in Russian is the word for the train station. When he inquired further, Rustam chuckled and said, “No, we are not taking a train ride in the early hours of the morning. Vokzal is what they call a gaming house here since it is how the Russians pronounce the word Vauxhall. I am told in London, Vauxhall is where they have a pleasure garden with all kinds of entertainment. However, at this vokzal, we shall play the game of chance, roulette. I remember you telling me you enjoy gambling, so let us bring in the new year together with some good fortune!”

  No matter what it was called, the gaming house was in an impressive building, and from the outside, one would never know what was going on inside.

  Even though many Russians liked to gamble, games of chance were not looked upon kindly by the authorities. However, if these kinds of establishments did not openly flaunt their existence, they were free to operate—if the policemen were bought off to turn a blind eye. A small slot in the front door allowed the proprietor to identify the potential patron and decide whether to open the door or no
t. But from the welcome Rustam received, it seemed he was no stranger to this vokzal.

  Inside, the décor included beautiful wooden furniture and walls covered by colorful paintings. Fine vodka was being offered by well-attired servers as if it were water, which no doubt was intended to make it easier for patrons to part with their money.

  Sitting in the center of the room was the main attraction, the roulette wheel. The game was quite simple: choose a number or a series of numbers or pick a color of red or black and ask the croupier to place the bet. The room was filled with tobacco smoke from cigars and cigarettes as the men at the foot of the wheel calmed their nerves with every puff. One could see the extremes of emotion, from fear to greed and from dejection to elation, written across their faces with each winning number announced aloud by the croupier.

  Rustam and Nasrosoltan took their seats, and the croupier tipped his head to Rustam in greeting, and for this gesture, he received a ten-ruble note before Rustam had even made one wager.

  Nasrosoltan asked him, “Why did you give the croupier a gratuity now?”

  Rustam leaned in close to Nasrosoltan, and in a confiding tone, replied, “Once he calls out ‘no more bets,’ you have to wait until the next turn of the wheel if you have not yet placed a bet. However, when he notices I have not decided upon a number or color, he gives me extra time before making the announcement. So in a sense, you can say it is not a gratuity but that I am literally buying myself some time!”

  Rustam asked Nasrosoltan, “Do you have enough money with you since I know you did not expect to be at a gaming house this morning?”

  Nasrosoltan replied that he did. When he had left for Russia, he had brought with him enough money for six months of study and living expenses. After that, for the remaining six months of his stay, his father was supposed to wire additional funds through the Russo-Persian bank branch in Tehran to the head office in St. Petersburg.

  Nasrosoltan had a habit of carrying most of the currency with him always, thinking it was a safer option to have his money at his disposal whenever he needed it. He left only a small amount in his bank account for an emergency.

  Even though this gaming house also offered chemin-de-fer and faro card games, Nasrosoltan was happy to see the roulette wheel. Back in Persia, while playing cards, some of those whom he considered friends had cheated him and produced hidden cards when needed with the discreet sleight of hand.

  Although Nasrosoltan had caught them at it, he ended up leaving a large sum of money on the table because of his pride. His reaction to that event was to just get up from the table, and instead of making a fuss to get his money back, pronouncing to those still seated, “Keep the money if you need it so bad as to cheat a friend!”

  After that incident, Nasrosoltan decided he would rather not gamble with cards, so he preferred games of chance that did not employ them. He naively thought the possibility of cheating was less with dice or the roll of a roulette ball than with cards.

  Rustam decided to only play the red and black colors that New Year’s morning. Nasrosoltan proceeded to bet upon the number seven exclusively since this number had always been his favorite.

  This was not because of the typical seven days in a week or the Persian belief in seven heavens, but because, as a musician, he viewed most things through the prism of music. He had studied Western music for most of his life, and the heptatonic scale consisted of seven notes. Nasrosoltan appreciated that many timeless works had been created with a simple reshuffling of these seven notes.

  Having stayed in Russia for seven years during his first trip, and having lived in Persia for seven years before returning to St. Petersburg, certainly had something to do with his affinity for this particular number. So, he assumed this could not just be a coincidence.

  What an unexpected twist. Nasrosoltan, who so easily dismissed superstition in every other phase of his life, embraced it so passionately when playing a game of fortune, for superstition is an ever-present companion of the gambler.

  As Rustam wished, the new year did bring them good fortune, and they both won. Nasrosoltan’s number seven came up many times in those few hours, and he managed to increase his impressive winnings. Witnessing this, the other patrons slowly gathered around him and started to bet on the same lucky number seven whenever he did.

  By around seven o’clock in the morning, Nasrosoltan had won so much that he doubled all the money he had brought with him for his initial six months of stay in St. Petersburg. Seven being his lucky number this visit, it also seemed to him to be the right time to get up and leave.

  Nasrosoltan turned to Rustam and said, “We had better leave before Lady Luck decides to stop smiling upon us, my friend!”

  The unexpected windfall made Nasrosoltan feel extremely generous. His largesse was on display as he gave extravagant gratuities to the croupier, the servers, and even the doorman at the gaming house. Winning that much money induced a sense of power in him. Nasrosoltan considered his tremendous luck as a good omen since the Persians believe that if the first day of the year begins with good fortune, it bodes well for the remainder of the year.

  The next few weeks passed by quickly as Nasrosoltan prepared for the stringent examination requirements of his orchestration course. Totally immersed in his studies, some days, he would even forget to eat, but Madame Lazar’s kindness kept him fed. Every so often, she would check up on him with offerings of her specially baked pirozhkis, stuffed with mashed potatoes, mushrooms, onions, and eggs. Even though he appreciated Madame’s cooking, her thoughtfulness made him feel even more guilty for refusing her request to teach the young princess.

  Madame Lazar had one week left to find a suitable replacement before the princess and her family returned from vacation. She tried hard not to show her despair, aware that Nasrosoltan felt terrible about his unwillingness to assist her with her predicament. He did, in a small way, repay her kindness and assuage his guilty feelings by tuning her piano, which had gone out of tune due to the sudden temperature change in the weather. But it made little difference to her, for she could not use the piano these days because of her injury.

  The day after New Year’s Day, Rustam had departed for a several-month business trip to the eastern provinces of Russia, where the railway construction was in high gear. Consequently, Nasrosoltan spent many evenings alone. One such evening, with the pressures of the upcoming examinations bearing down upon him, he decided to go out on the town for some much-needed entertainment and rejuvenation.

  After dinner with some conservatory friends, Nasrosoltan left the restaurant and recalled with excitement the evening a few weeks earlier when he visited the gaming house with Rustam. Remembering vividly how they both left victorious, he decided to visit the vokzal once again.

  Upon entering the establishment this night, he was immediately recognized as the generous gratuity giver from a few weeks back. The croupier tipped his head to Nasrosoltan, just as he had to Rustam that magnificent evening a short while ago. As was the case that night, the croupier quickly received a ten-ruble note in return. Nasrosoltan had just purchased the few precious extra seconds he would need to decide upon his bets this evening.

  Initially, Lady Luck was sitting at Nasrosoltan’s side as if she had never left him from the last time he visited, and his winnings kept growing. His confidence grew to the point that he doubled and sometimes tripled the amount he placed on each number.

  At some point during the evening, when it looked as if Nasrosoltan would once again leave the gaming house with a small fortune, he caught the attention of the gaming-house manager. The manager noticed the excessive gratuities the croupier was receiving and decided upon a change. He called in a replacement croupier, which they often do to change a winning patron's luck. Nasrosoltan did not think much of the move, for hope springs eternal when one is winning.

  Perhaps it was the different way the new croupier flung the ball along the circular roulette-wheel track, or maybe the way he spun the wheel itself in the opposit
e direction, but whatever the reason, Nasrosoltan began to lose.

  With every loss, he grew more defiant in the face of defeat, and he began to battle misfortune by increasing the amount he wagered. It was as if time stood still, and he was the only player at the table, with his eyes fixated on the spinning wheel and where the ivory ball would fall.

  There was something macabre about losing, and the more he lost, the more he wagered, to either win it all back in an instant or just to lose everything and be done with it.

  A pleasant evening had turned into misery, for he lost all he had won the last time he visited, and some. He could not decide whether to just get up and leave or to play a few more rounds in hopes that his luck might change.

  The odds are that a gambler usually stays, as did Nasrosoltan. He downed the remaining vodka in his glass in one swallow, and on the spur of the moment, placed all his remaining money—the money he needed for his rent to Madame Lazar for the rest of his stay—on one single bet.

  The number seven had brought him great fortune a few weeks back, and he hoped that by chance, just one last time, it would be his lucky number once again.

  Before the croupier could call out, “No more bets,” Nasrosoltan took all he had and gave it to him and said, “Chislo sem pozhaluysta!” (“Number seven, please!”)

  Everyone at the table was amazed at the amount he wagered, and all on just one number, leaving everything to chance. Nasrosoltan’s attention was focused on the croupier's hand, which in slow motion dropped the ball on the wheel's track as it spun for what seemed to be an eternity. Nasrosoltan knew much depended on where the ball would come to rest.