THE GALINA SAGA -- BOOK ONE -- 00:01 TO 08:00

THE GALINA SAGA – BOOK ONE

 One

Olga knelt by her beloved Galina, brushing her oldest daughter's freshly washed hair one last time before leaving. This was a time of closeness they both treasured.   She observed her daughter gently stroke her right earlobe, a customary act when she was at peace.   That simple gesture made Olga smile.

"We’re depending upon you now, my little Galya,” she said softly.  “You must make sure that Tanyachka and Naty study every day and eat healthy meals – and wear clean clothes to school."

Galina daringly placed both hands on the table before her.  "But I want so much to be with you, mother. I'm old enough to make this trip, and I wouldn't be any trouble.  Why, I’m sure I could actually be of help to you and papa – and I promise not to eat much, so the cost wouldn’t be great.  Ohhh, mama, I long to see Kiev.  I’d love to see everything between here and there."

Olga paused the rhythmic movement of her hands and pressed her daughter's head to her breast, placing a feather-like kiss on the side she had just completed. "My sweet little girl, you know papa and I have planned this trip for over a year. Everything’s been arranged, Galya.   We have much work to do in a very short time.   It's urgent that we get the replacement tools and supplies your papa needs for work and to prepare the house for winter.  I need to visit the fabric warehouse and purchase bolts of cloth.  And, we’ve learned from a colleague of your father’s that there’s a vintner near Kiev who may want to buy papa’s barrels.  There’ll be no time for sightseeing this trip.  The help we really need now is for our mature girl to care for her sisters while we’re gone,” she said firmly but lovingly.  Even though she was saying ‘no,’ Galina’s pleadings moved her more than she cared to admit. 

"But you could leave Tanyachka and Naty with uncle Vanya. They’re old enough to not be any trouble to him and Anna." Galina made an extra effort to keep the sadness in her heart from creeping into her words.  A hunger to travel had remained with her since that eventful time in recognition of her twelfth birthday she visited Odessa with her father.
 

The day was beautiful and sunny, and after he'd seen to the loading on the barge the barrels he’d made, he took her hand and they strolled along the wharf.

"They’re goin’ to a place called Adjara," he told her of the casks he’d built, then in answer to the question he read on her face, added, "That’ll be southeast across the sea, in Georgia. Did’ja know, Galya, why it’s called the Black Sea?" he asked in his deep, raspy voice.

Galina shook her head.

"Tis so-called because there’s monstrous dark storms out there that roll in so quick they leave no time to hide.  They bring winds that swirl around in a circle as fiercely as you like and waves taller than a house -- swells that crash down with such force nuthin’ can survive. This goes on for hours and hours, maybe days.  After they’re finished gobblin’ up vessels and people, and anything floatin’ with ‘em, the whole thing vanishes just as fast as it came, poof.   I hear the sky quick turns back to clear ‘n calm, as if nuthin’ happen’d.  ‘Cept, there ain’t a damn’d thing left on topa the water.  T’was called the Death Sea, early on.  Now, it’s just plain Black --- but not today it ain’t, sweet Galya, it’s full of life, and not a cloud to be seen." He smiled down at her warmly, opening his face with the animation a proud parent would use to greet a newborn baby.

 

Galina couldn’t help but catch the affection in his voice and expression. She understood he was softening the drama of his tale and she adored his thoughtfulness.   Returning his smile she took his hand in hers.  The youngster was proud that her papa considered her mature enough to explain such important things to her.  She knew quite a bit about sea-based storm events and cyclones, in fact she could quote chapter and verse of historical maritime reports documenting noteworthy tempests on or near the Black Sea’s elliptical depression and the communities that surround it.  But, she never hinted this knowledge to her father that day, or any other. 

  

Nonetheless, she looked intently to the sea and wondered how a body of water as placid as that one could become so cruel.  The surf that day was gentler than a rowboat’s wake, barely visible movement lapping onto shore and caressing the hulls of the twelve military and nineteen civilian sailing vessels anchored in the deep harbor.  Odd, she thought, but beautiful now. 
   
Father and daughter walked along the wharf for several more minutes, her soft hand clutching his roughly calloused but tender fingers.

Andrei let go her hand and swept his arms upward like a circus ringmaster. "Ah ha!  Here we are, Galya.   Lookit them steps," he said, embracing the vision before them.

Galina drew in her breath quickly as her gaze rose up and up to the top of a magnificent stairway, its steps easily the width of two houses. "Oh, Papa!" she uttered as if she could hardly believe the structure that lay before her.

"They’re called the Primorsky Stairs," he told her, "but some folks are callin’ them Richelieu, too.  But, I favor Primorsky – more Ukrainian ya know?"

Nothing distracted Galina from the vision.  The day was mild and warm and windless, drawing 895 people to the steps and in her view.  She had learned from her father that there were many wide landings separating groups of stairs, so she wasn’t exactly certain how many people were veiled from her discerning eyes.  Interesting, she thought, none of the landings could be seen gazing upward – only stair upon stair upon stair.   Two hundred of ‘em, she noted to herself.

The youngster was captivated by the multitude of sights and sounds, and considered the man who first envisioned the upward pathway in the sheer hillside that linked the sea to the city above.  She wondered if he saw beyond its usefulness – venturing into the realm of inspiration, a place to enthuse novels and poems, music and dance.  Or, did he see it solely in utilitarian terms: so many steps, so wide, allowing pedestrians to reach its proscribed height without undue strain.  Her thoughts drifted whimsically as she imagined that all the important people of the world must at some point come to this place to stand at or near where she was then standing, and if she waited long enough, she’d get to meet each and every one of them.  Her mind then slipped into another dominion entirely, as it often did.  Her thoughts remained neither romantic nor fanciful for long, supplanted by deliberations of digits and ciphers.

"I wanted you to see this place, Galya." Her father's voice broke into her thoughts.  “See, you can’t make-out the tops of those steps.  But, look-see!  Its bottom’s much wider than its middle and keeps narrowin’ as it rises.”

In her reverie, Galina did notice that, and gently stroked her left earlobe.  She observed the elegant isosceles trapezoid whose low base she could tell was precisely 21.7 meters wide and through its sturdy legs narrowed to 12.5 meters, at least as far as she could see.  She noted, too, the illusion of endlessness from the bottom to beyond the last visible step.

Father and daughter, clutching hands while climbing aloft paused on each landing they came to, titillated by colorful merchants selling trinkets from near and far.  Galina’s papa, Andrei, a man of quiet pursuits, thought the vendors to be as thick as thieves eating pea soup.  They were hawking everything – from baubles to food and drink to crocheted items and crafts of all kinds, shipped or carted in from the six countries with twenty-two vibrant port cities that surrounded the immense body of water before her. 

Galina was fascinated by the sometimes raucous interaction between buyers and sellers on the staircase.  Her nose detected a plethora of spices and meats simmering in pots resting over hot coals.  Full meals or snacks could be purchased and consumed on the spot. 

Galina looked to her father, “Are you hungry too, papa?”

“Hahaha,” he laughed, his face beaming.  “I am, Galya.  I’ll get us somethin’ light so we don’t ruin our supper.”  He ventured to a nearby stall offering tea and sweets and bought cabbage strudel and tea from a man who said he hailed from the Carpathians in western Ukraine at Zakarpattya.  Galina knew that place.  She beamed as the man cut two pieces of the rich pastry and dusted it with confectioner’s sugar.  With that she recalled clearly the sweet and savory taste of the ethnic delicacies she’d sampled in the mountains.  Accepting the tart from her father, she began to wolf it down.

“Easy now, Galya, yer mama wouldn’t approve of you eatin’ like that, now would she?”  He set two cups of tea on the thick balustrade.

“No papa, I’m sorry,” she said between bites, cupping her hand to her mouth and brushing powdered sugar from her upper lip.  She raised one of the mugs and sipped the strong liquid delicately in an attempt to right her previous wrong.  They finished the snack, disposed of its paper wrapping, returned the empty cups to the vendor and continued their upward trek.

“Now Galya, I want ya ta pick out some birthday gifts from yer mama and me.” Choose from any o’ the sellers here or on any landing.  Yer twelve now, it’s a big day for ya, sweet darlin’.”

She thought for several moments and said, “Papa, what I’d like to do, if it’s okay with you is to get some small gifts for you and mama, Naty, Tanyachka and Jani, so you’ll all know I was thinking about you on my special day.  Is that okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay, Galya.  Kinda knew that’d be somethin’ you’d wanna do, bless yer heart.”

It was April 20, a day before Easter Sunday and Galina immediately went to the lavishly decorated wooden Easter eggs that were a staple in Ukraine.  She picked one for her best friend Jana, and one for her mama.  She picked out a silver hair comb for Natalya and a brooch for Tatiana.  She selected a handsome briar pipe from Portugal for her father, something she knew he’d make for himself if he could acquire the extremely dense wood.  Last, she changed her mind about the brooch – believing that it was a bit too big-girl a gift for her youngest sister, so she thought to give that to Jana as well, and found a delicate bracelet instead for the littlest sugar-monster.

She instinctively knew when she had arrived at the staircase’s midpoint.  Turning full circle, another playful illusion caught her eye.  Looking seaward, the steps disappeared, leaving only wide landings in view.  Galina unmistakably gauged this artful staircase to be exactly 142.4 meters long, fully aware that her calculation was pinpoint accurate.

She smiled shyly. "Oh, Papa, it's wonderful." And it was wonderful that he knew what she was considering and never scolded her for thinking in that way, a way so different from other girls or boys.  Galina had a bent that allowed her to effortlessly perform intricate calculations, crack elaborate puzzles, encrypt and decrypt ciphers and perform other tasks of deduction and reason.  All who knew the young woman observed her manipulate digits, symbols and languages as well as – no, much better than most grown men of scientific discipline.  Not able to explain it in any other way, her parents concluded that it was a skill born into her. 

Her capacity was like a sculpture made of stone, permanent and unyielding.  She rarely asked herself "what if?" but rather "how many?" and she always found the answer.  Her father didn't understand such matters himself but he understood that they were part of Galina as surely as her hair and body were.  Since early childhood, Andrei and Olga observed their daughter touch the soft lobe of her left ear when she was cracking computations and the right when casting or receiving comforting thoughts of family and friends.  As long as she did that, they knew their baby girl was in a safe place.

"You must preserve what food you don't eat and thoroughly cook the meats and fish you intend to serve." Her mother's instructions brought Galina back from her reveries.

"Yes, Mother, I know." Galina heaved a sigh and took the brush from her mother's hands.

Olga rose and began to move about the kitchen arranging a few misplaced utensils. "It's especially important to make sure that fowl is well roasted. And pick some of the ripe tomatoes to trade with the neighbors for cucumbers and beets so you'll have vegetables to eat with your meat." She started for the chair where she had placed her cloak but whirled around to add, "You must take good care of Tanyachka's elbow. Her scrape needs to be cleaned and buttered with Marigold salve and re-bandaged every day. And make sure you're respectful when you trade vegetables or when you pass an adult on the lane." She frowned trying to remember everything that should be remembered and certain that she would forget something.

Seeing her daughter continuing to pout, she stretched out her arms and placed her warm hands on Galina’s shoulders.  “Galya, you are the most wonderful daughter a mother could possibly want.  You’re thoughtful, kind, generous and loving.  You inspire others to be helpful to those less fortunate than themselves, as you consistently do yourself.”  She paused and then continued purposefully.   “You have a special gift, my darling, one that you don’t fully understand yet.  It has given you capabilities that will enable you to do much more than most people…as long as your focus remains principled and just,” she added for moral compassing.   "Remember to be patient -- all will come to you in time."  Olga hugged her little girl.  "I love you my darling Gayla.  " I love you too, mama."  She and Galina hugged each tightly for a long time.  The door from the kitchen garden opened.

Andrei entered with nine-year-old Tatyana clinging to one hand and Natalya, twelve, clinging to the other. He moved to his wife and eldest daughter, who separated their embrace and held out their hands to him.  Andrei presented each girl’s hands to Galina so his daughters stood before him linked together. "Galya,” he said, “I know Jani’s yer best friend and all, and you enjoy your time wit her, but you need to think about your sisters while we're gone.  Make sure Jani understands you can't be wit her all the time."

“I will father, I promise.”

"Study early, dear Galya, so you can pray with your sisters before bedtime," her mother added and paused, thinking. "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask your uncle.  Oh, there’s money in the cabinet for devotion.  Take some with you to church.

Andre chimed in to no one in particular, “I fixed the crack’d boards in the sauna this morning and there’re two new water buckets I bilt in my shed, one’s for the bath and one’s for the kitchen.  Take two saunas a week, minimum, better three.  Light a nice fire in the afternoon and the stones’ll be plenty hot by the time you’re finished supper.  But be sure Tanyachka don’t use the sauna by herself.  She ain’t old ‘nough yet for that.  Oh, I got notice that the city’ll be repairin’ the water and sewer lines next week, so find out from your uncle when they’ll be nearby here, so you can make other arrangements.  DON'T flush the toilet when they're workin' on the lines.  They'll fine me somethin' terrible."

“Yes father,” the girls sang in a chorus as they often did when teasing was an option.  Their father laughed, as he always did when the girls playfully taunted him.

Many kisses passed among them and many more were thrown in all directions as Olga and Andrei boarded a hired carriage taking them to the train station. As it headed down the powdery road, its wheels churned up a cloud of dust.  The girls stood alone, a little lost and uncertain.  They waved to the carriage until it was gone from sight, turned and walked into the house.

Two 

There was a light knock at the door.  Galina went to the window and saw Jana standing outside.  She touched her right lobe and opened the door for her friend to enter.  Once inside, Jana looked expectantly around the house’s main room, her expression changing from joyful to probing.  “Uh oh…did I miss saying goodbye to your parents?” she asked in her curiously husky but decidedly feminine voice.

“Just,” Galina replied.  “They were in a hurry to board the morning train.”

 “Oh damn, I’m sorry I’m late.  I wanted to give them a cake to eat on the train,” she said holding up a beautifully wrapped package, the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through and overcoming the modest space.

Galina looked to her friend with sadness.  “They’ll be very disappointed when they learn what they’ve missed.  You know how much they love your cakes.” And, Galina loved her friend for thinking about her parent’s pleasure as they traveled the long distance.  “But, don’t you worry, I’m sure these two Carpathian sugar monsters won’t let your beautiful cake go to waste,” she said laughing and pointing to her sisters while continuing to gently tug at her right lobe.

“Hi girls,” she said holding up the cake and looking to the youngsters studying at the multipurpose table.  Although surrounded by eight sturdy chairs, just the two at opposite ends of the surface were occupied.   The little ones’ moods improved noticeably when they saw Jana in the room.  They put down their pencils and cleared the table of clutter, anticipating their sister’s friend would join them at the stout mahogany console.

Although a cooper by training and trade, Andrei had crafted the table and chairs several years ago, as he had many of the fixtures in their comfortable home.  Using imported hardwoods for his various projects, Andrei favored the richness of mahoganies from Honduras but not their inferior Philippine cousins.  In a pinch, he accepted as substitutes, Serbian oak, Carpathian maple or, if affordable, cherry from Japan.

The meticulous hand-tooling he carried out in his spotless workshop erected seventeen years before.  It was free-standing in the far corner of the property, directly opposite the wood-fired sauna he fashioned five years later.  The instruments of his trade were mostly a century old or older, kept in pristine condition by the barrel maker, each piece held safe in a box constructed for that purpose.  Before turning over maintenance of his neoclassic-inspired projects to the gentle care of the Romanenko women, he delicately finished each selection with Tung oil, rubbed hard into the wood’s grain to unleash its luxuriant patina.  Only then would he carve his name in an inconspicuous place on the composition.  All of his relatives and select friends possessed at least one of his sought-after handiworks.  The etched ‘A. Romanenko’ name found on a piece of furniture assured its prominence and value throughout the region.

“Hi Jani,” Natalya said brightly and then Tatyana repeated the greeting.  “Is that one of your cakes?” she asked anxiously.

“Certainly is.”

“Ooh ah, ooh ah, yum, yum!” Tatyana shrieked, her hands thrusting forward in anticipation that the confection would fly directly into them. 

“Thank you, sugar monster, but you can’t have cake right now.  After dinner is the best time for sweets, young lady.”  Tatyana pouted theatrically.   She walked toward the table where the girls were studying and put her hand gently on Natalya’s shoulder.  “Working hard, I see.  What subjects do you hate at the moment?” she chided.

“Ha! I’m reading French history, Napoleon, and I kinda like it actually.  Did you know that he was made a lieutenant in the army when he was just fifteen?  Everybody else had to wait until they were at least twenty-one,” Natalya responded proudly, glancing up to the smiling face of her sister’s buddy.

“I didn’t know that.  Maybe they should’ve waited a bit longer before promoting him and Waterloo might’ve turned out differently,” she snorted a laugh and stroked   Natalya’s thick hair.  She turned to Tatyana.  “How about you, precious, what are you studying?”

“I’m doing arithmetic – fractions.  And, boy, I hate it,” Tatyana moped, both hands cupping her chin, elbows firmly planted on the grain of the table’s rich mahogany surface.

“Isn’t Galya helping you?  There’s no one better with numbers than she is,” Jana said playfully.

“Yes, she does, but only when I’m so stuck I can’t think straight,” Tatyana answered with a glower.

“I’m sure you’ll understand it if you keep focused.”  Looking to Galina, she said changing the subject, “It’s a beautiful day today.  Any plans when the girls are done?”

 “It's gorgeous outside!  I thought we’d go to the park now that they're almost finished.  Do you want to come, too?” she asked.

“I’d like to, but I have to go to school and drop-by the chemistry lab.  Professor Radev is lending me some glassware for a test I’m helping papa with at work.  I think he has them set out for me in the lab.”

“You’re still advancing the aristocracy of noble metals?” an outburst from Natalya.

“Ha,” Jana said and smiled.  “Papa is, with two of his ancient co-workers.  I’m just helping ‘cause I have hands that don’t shake and eyes that don’t blink,” she said laughing, another small snort escaping her nostrils.

“What are they working on now?” asked Natalya.

“They’re trying to separate platinum from copper.   But it’s the same process and corrosives used to detach gold, silver and palladium, only with a slightly different structural formula,” she answered instructively.

“Hmm.  That’s scary stuff, Jani.  You’ll be careful, promise.”

“I’m very careful, sister.  I know just how nasty it can be.  One of papa’s men was hit in the face with a splash of hydrochloric a couple a weeks ago.  By the time he got enough water to rinse it off, he was a mess.  Now there’s a bucket of water next to every work station.”

“I think I’ll walk with you to school.  The girls’ll be fine at the park without me for a little while, if we can hook them up with some of their friends from school.  Isn’t that right girls?”

“Sure, Galya, we’ll be fine,” Natalya responded.

“I’d like that,” she said, and then added in a whisper, “I want to talk to you about Boris.”  Jana put her finger to her lips to signify the height of secrecy to be observed.   Galina took the cake from her friend and put it into the larder.  “God this cake smells delicious,” she said on the way.

The kids finished their homework and tidied up the table.  Galina secured the house and the four ladies moseyed the short distance to the park.   The massive green space was crowded that afternoon with families spread out randomly on cheery coverlets.  On sunny days several generations of city dwellers would attend these playful, nature-inspired pastimes.   The eldest were seated in places of honor supervising the festivities, their children attending to them and to their own kids as well.

The sun was just beginning its downward spiral as youngsters of all ages were scuttling about the large territory in routs of tag, soccer, hide & seek and games invented on the spot.  Mothers were busily organizing snacks or picnic meals and were passing out a variety of beverages to the revelers.  Galina recognized several of her sisters’ schoolmates accompanied by parents and grandparents.  The girls shouted greetings to near-by buddies and waved anxiously.  Galina knew her sibs would be in good hands with any of the families present, but admonished them anyway, “Don’t leave the park unless you both decide to go home together, and then only with another family.   Jana and I will be heading directly to school now and coming right back here after we’re done.  We won’t be gone more than an hour-and-a-half.”

Natalya and Tatyana wrapped their arms fully around their older sister’s narrow waist and squeezed a long hug.  Galina bent forward and planted then received multiple kisses from each girl on both cheeks.  They then turned their loving attention to Jana and repeated the friendly gesture.  “Thank you again Jani, for the cake.”

“You are most welcome, Naty.”

“We’ll stay right here, we promise, Galya.”

“Okay, girls – have fun.”

Both little ones sprinted away waving friendly good-byes.  They hurried under the park’s broad sign whose rich hardwood had been engraved with letters later gilded proclaiming it as the 'Chisinau Community Recreation Area, Under the Administration of the Imperial Ministry of Forestry.’  At the base of the sign was the ornate symbol of Czar Alexander III.