The seventh day after the hospital burned, I came home from the shops to see a group of men pounding on the door of the house next to ours—General Stackleberg’s—while they screamed to be let in.
No one opened the door. I realized one of them was Vladislav, but he was dressed as a workman, not a footman.
He began cursing and kicking at the door. Each of the men had a turn. The door was big and thick like ours, and I didn’t think they’d be able to kick it in, but they seemed overtaken with a rage that I didn’t understand.
I didn’t know what to do. I heard Osip’s voice from behind me. “Lottie, Lottie, come inside!”
Another man took out a gun and aimed it at the door handle. I froze at the sight of the gun. He shot the door, and the wood around it splintered. I let out a scream, but they didn’t act like they heard me.
They went back to kicking it until more and more of the wood broke. A shot came from inside the house, and one of the men staggered back, blood dripping from his shoulder. That enraged the rest of them, and they rushed inside, shouting. I grabbed hold of the railing on the steps. They had to be stopped but I didn’t know how.
More shouts and then another shot and then, to my horror, they dragged the general out and down the steps. He was older than Papa and much more frail, though he tried to struggle. His glasses fell off and someone stepped on them.
“Stop!” I yelled. They ignored me. When they reached the bottom, they let go of him and he fell to the ground. Before I could react, Vladislav aimed a revolver at the general and pulled the trigger.
Bile rose in my throat and the scene wavered in front of me like I was seeing things underwater. I thought I was going to faint, so I put my head down on the railing.
I heard them cheering. “Let’s go get those guns!” one of them yelled, and they ran back inside.
I knew the general was dead, but I couldn’t just leave him there. I had taken a few shaky steps toward him when Osip came out the door and down the steps.
“Get inside!” he said, taking me by the arm and pulling me back. “You can’t do anything now.” He shut and locked the door behind us.
“He’s dead,” I said. “We have to do something.”
“We can’t. Those men will kill you if you get in their way. Lottie, don’t you understand? They might come here next.”
I felt like I’d been punched. “Where’s Papa? Is he here? What about Dmitri?’
“No, they are both out. Someone came to pick up your stepfather and I don’t know where the tutor went.” I saw he was shaking. “I don’t know what to do. We should get Mr. Archer or Yermak.”
“No, no.” Archer still wasn’t feeling well, and from what little I knew, I suspected that the bluish look to him meant there was something wrong with his heart, though he refused to let the doctor see him. I didn’t want to get Yermak, either. He would just roar at the men and put himself in danger.
“We can act as if no one is here,” Osip suggested.
“They’ll break the door down if we don’t open it for them,” I said. “What is Vladislav doing with them?”
“He left his job and joined up with a group of friends. They aren’t really revolutionaries—they just want weapons and money and liquor.”
“They were yelling about weapons.” Papa had a few guns in the house. I knew then what we had to do. “It’s probably better to let them have what they want,” I said, though the thought of them and their fury was terrifying. “They’ll take them anyway, but if we let them in, they can take them and then go away before anyone is hurt.”
We could handle this, I told myself. We had to. “When they get here, I’ll show them where the guns are,” I said. “Can you go to the end of the block and watch for my stepfather? If you see him or Dmitri, tell them to go away until it’s safe. Go out the back and warn Zarja before you go. Have her tell the others to stay upstairs.”
I didn’t want to be near those men, but I didn’t want any of the others near them either. It would be safer for me to let them in than anyone else. I prayed that neither Dmitri nor my stepfather would come home while they were here.
After Osip went downstairs, I waited a long time, hoping maybe I’d been wrong and they’d gotten all they wanted at the other house. I was just about to open the door and peek out when someone pounded on it.
“Open this door!”
I took a deep breath and made myself call out, “Just a moment.”
When I opened it, I held on to the handle so tightly my fingers hurt. “Please don’t be so loud,” I said. “My little sisters are taking a nap. If they see you here, they’ll be frightened.”
The man who had shot at the general’s door was in front. His face was badly scarred and he was very thin. He looked at me, his eyes narrowed.
“We want weapons. Are there guns in the house?” he asked.
“Yes,” Vladislav snarled. “I told you already there is a general here too.”
“There are weapons,” I said. “But not many. My stepfather is very elderly and got rid of most of his guns a long time ago. You can have what’s still here.” I pretended to be exasperated. “I don’t know why he keeps such old pieces of junk around anyway.”
I knew Papa had a pistol in his desk drawer in the library and an old rifle hung on the wall behind his desk, so I took the men in and showed them both.
The leader examined the pistol. “This is a good weapon,” he said, frowning. “It’s not junk at all and it’s been kept up. Are you sure there aren’t more here?”
My mouth was so dry, I had to swallow a few times before I could answer. “I’m sure. It’s just my stepfather and me and my little brothers and sisters, and I can assure you none of us hunt.”
Vladislav took the rifle off the wall. Another man went over to a small table that had a bottle of vodka on it and a decanter of whiskey. “Take that, too,” I said. “My stepfather drinks too much.” I heard a noise out in the hall and my breath stopped. I was afraid Stepan or one of the other boys had come down. “I really need to check on my sisters. I don’t want them to get out of bed and come looking for me.”
“All right,” the leader said. He motioned to the other men. “Get that alcohol and let’s go. I’m ready to celebrate.” He raised his gun in the air and the other men cheered again. I followed them back out in the hall to see Archer marching toward them.
“You now!” he yelled at the man. “What are you doing? That’s the general’s pistol! You can’t have that!”
“Archer! It’s all right! I gave it to them.”
“You—you—” he sputtered as he reached up and tried to wrest the pistol from the man’s hand.
Vladislav came forward, and I yelled again. He raised the butt of the rifle. I grabbed at it but I missed. The man hit Archer on the forehead with the weapon. Archer’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He collapsed to the floor.
I dropped down to him, only dimly aware the men were leaving. “Archer! Archer!” He didn’t open his eyes. I put my hand on his heart. I couldn’t feel a beat. His face went gray.