younger sister to him. He couldn't let anything bad happen to her.
The next day Ivan, Sergei, and Nadya covered over ten miles thanks to a farmer who gave them a ride in the back of the hay wagon he was taking to market. While Ivan napped, Nadya mischievously buried him in hay, and then awoke him by tickling his nose with straw. Sergei had to chuckle as, still asleep, Ivan tried to bat away the straw as if it were a pestering bug. Ivan squirmed in his sleep, trying to move his arms, which were buried under the hay.
Nadya shrieked with laughter when Ivan awoke and realized his predicament. With a powerful lunge forward, Ivan broke free from under the hay and immediately began showering straw on Nadya. She howled as she swatted him away with one hand and grabbed handfuls of hay to retaliate with the other hand. In the end, they both lay in the truck covered in hay and smiling. Sergei chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly. It was good to see they were no longer scowling at each other.
They unloaded wrapped bales of hay for the farmer and picked up a few coins for a meager lunch of cheese and bread that they ate by a stream. The day after that, an iceman let them help him deliver blocks of frozen water to his customers to cool their iceboxes. It was backbreaking work, but Nadya kept it lively by constantly dropping ice shavings down the back of Ivan's shirt, always when he least expected it. Sergei roared with laughter at the sight of Ivan wriggling to fish out the ice, and then running after Nadya with ice shavings of his own, trying--sometimes successfully--to get her back.
This work on the ice truck moved them forward another eight miles, and the iceman bought them supper as recompense for their labor.
On the third day they met a traveling salesman who wanted company in his British roadster. "This is the new Russia of the working class. Workers need uniforms and uniforms require buttons, which is where I come in," he told Sergei, who was seated in the front beside him.
"How is that?" Sergei asked him.
"I sell buttons! It's a great time to be in the button business. By this time next year, I'll be rich!"
"Excuse my saying so, but isn't the whole idea of the new Bolshevik Russia that no one is richer than anyone else?" Ivan pointed out from the backseat.
The salesman gave a sputtering laugh. "That will blow over soon enough. It goes against human nature. People are naturally competitive. They will always strive to rise higher than those around them."
The salesman glanced toward the backseat at Nadya. "Don't you think so?"
Nadya only shrugged, but Ivan jumped in. "Absolutely!" he agreed with bombastic sarcasm. "Only the rich matter."
"You don't believe that," Sergei reminded Ivan.
"Life has opened my eyes," Ivan replied. "Humans are naturally greedy, selfish, and brutal. To expect anything more is to invite disillusion."
"Are you greedy, selfish, and brutal?" Nadya challenged him.
"Am I human?" he asked. "If so, then I am those things."
"Then you think I am also greedy, selfish, and brutal?" she said. "And Sergei too?"
"If pushed, you probably have those capacities," he insisted.
Sergei sighed to himself. It saddened him that his friend had become so cynical. When he'd first met Ivan, he'd told Sergei how he'd joined the Communist Bolsheviks in sympathy with their message of a decent life for all Russians, not only the aristocracy. He had been an idealist. But seeing the brutality of the Revolution had deeply wounded his spirit, and that wound had scarred over, leaving him with something hard and injured where his soul had been.
Lately Nadya had brought out something more playful in Ivan. Sergei had been glad to see it. So it made him especially disappointed to hear Ivan sounding so bitter now. It was almost as if he were trying to get back to acting like the cynical young man he had left behind these last few days. Maybe it made Ivan feel too vulnerable to laugh and be happy. Was he struggling to regain
The next day Ivan, Sergei, and Nadya covered over ten miles thanks to a farmer who gave them a ride in the back of the hay wagon he was taking to market. While Ivan napped, Nadya mischievously buried him in hay, and then awoke him by tickling his nose with straw. Sergei had to chuckle as, still asleep, Ivan tried to bat away the straw as if it were a pestering bug. Ivan squirmed in his sleep, trying to move his arms, which were buried under the hay.
Nadya shrieked with laughter when Ivan awoke and realized his predicament. With a powerful lunge forward, Ivan broke free from under the hay and immediately began showering straw on Nadya. She howled as she swatted him away with one hand and grabbed handfuls of hay to retaliate with the other hand. In the end, they both lay in the truck covered in hay and smiling. Sergei chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly. It was good to see they were no longer scowling at each other.
They unloaded wrapped bales of hay for the farmer and picked up a few coins for a meager lunch of cheese and bread that they ate by a stream. The day after that, an iceman let them help him deliver blocks of frozen water to his customers to cool their iceboxes. It was backbreaking work, but Nadya kept it lively by constantly dropping ice shavings down the back of Ivan's shirt, always when he least expected it. Sergei roared with laughter at the sight of Ivan wriggling to fish out the ice, and then running after Nadya with ice shavings of his own, trying--sometimes successfully--to get her back.
This work on the ice truck moved them forward another eight miles, and the iceman bought them supper as recompense for their labor.
On the third day they met a traveling salesman who wanted company in his British roadster. "This is the new Russia of the working class. Workers need uniforms and uniforms require buttons, which is where I come in," he told Sergei, who was seated in the front beside him.
"How is that?" Sergei asked him.
"I sell buttons! It's a great time to be in the button business. By this time next year, I'll be rich!"
"Excuse my saying so, but isn't the whole idea of the new Bolshevik Russia that no one is richer than anyone else?" Ivan pointed out from the backseat.
The salesman gave a sputtering laugh. "That will blow over soon enough. It goes against human nature. People are naturally competitive. They will always strive to rise higher than those around them."
The salesman glanced toward the backseat at Nadya. "Don't you think so?"
Nadya only shrugged, but Ivan jumped in. "Absolutely!" he agreed with bombastic sarcasm. "Only the rich matter."
"You don't believe that," Sergei reminded Ivan.
"Life has opened my eyes," Ivan replied. "Humans are naturally greedy, selfish, and brutal. To expect anything more is to invite disillusion."
"Are you greedy, selfish, and brutal?" Nadya challenged him.
"Am I human?" he asked. "If so, then I am those things."
"Then you think I am also greedy, selfish, and brutal?" she said. "And Sergei too?"
"If pushed, you probably have those capacities," he insisted.
Sergei sighed to himself. It saddened him that his friend had become so cynical. When he'd first met Ivan, he'd told Sergei how he'd joined the Communist Bolsheviks in sympathy with their message of a decent life for all Russians, not only the aristocracy. He had been an idealist. But seeing the brutality of the Revolution had deeply wounded his spirit, and that wound had scarred over, leaving him with something hard and injured where his soul had been.
Lately Nadya had brought out something more playful in Ivan. Sergei had been glad to see it. So it made him especially disappointed to hear Ivan sounding so bitter now. It was almost as if he were trying to get back to acting like the cynical young man he had left behind these last few days. Maybe it made Ivan feel too vulnerable to laugh and be happy. Was he struggling to regain
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