EPILOGUE
[Particle 1 - December 1955: Ivan, Stepan and Fyodor's Ending]
"So, you are quitting together."
"Yes. We both made the decision to look forward over different career. And so... we come here to inform you, before we leave forever."
"Any plan for that new future?"
"Yeah. We joined the new Orchestra Philharmonic in my old town Novonikolyaevsk. And start by next week, we will work there. My sons has grown adult and can live on their own, so I have no more duty."
"...It seems the new leadership in here taxing you?"
"May be yes, may be not."
"I only noticed my work ethic slowly clashed with the future demands, that's all. Because my stomach problem appears again, too."
"That's just a polite way to say Boris Alexandrovich has lost his principal."
"Oops, you caught us, hehe~"
"Well... I would miss you all so much. I mean, you are the most emotional reason... to make me stayed in the ensemble for decades."
"Aww that's so heartwarming. Glad we are making you happy. But really, don't quit from the ensemble just because of us. Boris Alexandrovich will thinking there is some weird exodus and will detain you, ahahaha..."
"I don't plan to quit yet. I'll try to chase to get retirement till I'm 60. So... only after 1967."
"Even if the payment is now more degrading like groceries...?"
"I saved back we are still paid with money. Well, I don't have anyone to tend except cats. Should be enough to feed myself and the cats until I died from old age."
"Ah alright... Oh well, we have to go. I'll write you the new telephone number and address after this. So feel free to come whenever you want."
"Got it. I will be waiting for that time."
"You don't want my number and address too? I thought you will miss me, hm?"
"Stiva, you said you want to heavily focus on your pregnant wife?"
"Well, in case our Fedya has some scandalous news happened inside the ensemble. I still want to know to spice up my life, hahaha!"
"You already know I am not the gossiper type... But well, I'm appreciating your kindness to bridging me. Don't worry, though. I still have..."
"...?"
"..."
"Fedya, you okay?"
"...Nevermind. I forgot Dima and Tolik already left long ago. But maybe I can still do my duty as a kind senior to the new choir artists."
===
[Particle 2 - October 1960: Andrei's Ending]
Hello again, Mama. I always fulfil my promise to visit you each year... so here we go.
Oh, yes, I come alone now. Lyubasha was working on the state documents, for we will moving to Crimea. Because now I'm getting a new job as a ballet choreographer and mentor in its local ballet academy. Don't worry, the resignation letter two weeks ago has approved, so I don't get burdened by ensemble work anymore.
Lyubasha, too, now also joining various dancer group and travels a lot. Though she prefers to perform around Crimea too. It's better that we moved to same place, so both of us can also spending time with our son.
About Misha, he is just ten by last month, anyway. Still an eager kid whenever entering the athletic school. He has joining local gymnastic competition too and did well. I am glad that his dream to be a gymnastic athlete has forged, and that kiddo loves the journey too.
And as I am finally alone now... I want to be honest with you, Ma. I admit even though I have a beloved wife and son... my mind still sometimes drifted back to Maxim. Could my life work differently if he stayed alive? Maybe he will changed. Could my love work better if he changed? And maybe... the forbidden relationship won't be so forbidden afterall.
...Well, I don't know. Probably I say this because I feel my memory after your death is so blurry... and full of regret. I've gone to many concerts, collaborate and drunk with my dancer friends... and yet I only remember him.
Oh, anyway... Mama, is it okay too if I still wished you were here with me? Because after all... you are the one who taught me everything. Lyubasha and Misha always love my cooking and ask for seconds. The recipes you shared in letters are preserved — even she turn them into book at printing store, so I can browse without fear to lose any page. Well, she already suggested that idea since years ago, but I keep denying. Until few months ago, I lost your letter about chocolate pudding recipe, haha...
Oh well, I rarely use that recipe. I rather bought for them at restaurant. Because seeing that pudding still makes me remember about Maxim...
So... thank you to listen to me, Ma. I hope you have a good time with Papa. Tell him I want to meet him, for I always remember you said he is the most gentle ballerino you ever meet.
***
He doesn't feel ashamed anymore as he blows his nose to his handkerchief, finishing his tears that now flowing nonstop. After all, the cemetery in Kansk has no visitors, and the only witnesses are the mizzle, the friendly autumn breeze and the gentle chirping of the birds.
===
[Particle 3 - September 1964: Semyon's Another Beginning]
"Sema, you have to quit from ensemble right now. Bring Irina too and move anywhere safe."
Semyon stopped rehearsing his accordion, then putting down on the floor. He look up toward a light brunette woman with lime eyes, and her expression was so troubled. He looked left and right, making sure no one hearing two wizards converse in the corridor of Tchaikovsky Hall's backstage.
"Tell me more."
"I got the tip through the telephone yesterday; both factions have actively hunting for that artefact pieces again!"
"So it means, soon I will be found if I don't move," monotoned Semyon.
"I'm afraid so. You still have that one piece that they hunted, right?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's my eyes which able to see past and future in glimpse."
"Then don't ever get caught! Both factions will kill you to take your-"
Semyon quickly cut her panic with calm voice, "I know. That's why I hid in this ensemble in first place, even planned to retire and died peacefully here. But I guess at the end, my hideout still revealed by the caught artefact pieces."
"And it's useless too if you try to die peacefully. Your soul will still caught by Spirit Wizard, and tracked your dead body..."
"Thank you for warning me. I will write the resignation letter after this concert... which will be my last concert too. And I think I will pass down the role to guard this ensemble to you completely. Take care of this ensemble, okay?"
The woman is a bit stunned with Semyon who just agreeing. She then inquired, "...You don't try to interrogate or... doubted me? Whether I was lying and only setting the trap? You know that I was member of Red's faction..."
"Lora, remember that I have this artefact piece on my eyes. And I can see your past and future in glimpse," Semyon chuckled as he pointed his eyes. "You were... and are always secretly a neutral wizard, and a good ballerina. Just don't giving up finding your little brother while guarding here."
Larisa Rubina, the name of that ballerina, only able to closed her peridotite eyes. Meanwhile, Semyon gets up from his seat, for he start to find any available paper and pen around the Hall...
[Particle 4 - February 1974: Vadim's Ending]
With a heavy steps, a tall old man with long white hair is walking on the thick snow of Moscow. Then he descended on a station, patiently waited for the metro. When the metro comes and he entered with sea of people, he silently staring onto the dark window. Unknowingly, he repeating the same words he said, as he brought the retirement letter in his blur winter coat.
"...Happy birthday, Vasya. And after years apart... I finally can give you a real gift: It's a good news that I am officially retired this year. I just got the letter from Boris Alexandrovich."
The metro halted in one stop. It's not the destination he reached yet. The man stretch his back before leaning to the seat again.
"It's also your dream too in the past, right? So you can get infinite money, as you ever said. You were so caring for your mom and sister, till seizing any chance and rarely took day off unless it's holiday..."
The metro halted in another stop. It's not the destination he reached yet. The man stretch his back before leaning to the seat again.
"But hey, I hope you don't have regrets anymore. Because I heard that your family's descendant has moved to England. They have better life in medical field. You can rest forever."
The metro finally reached to his destination. He got up and walked out of the tram. With patient, the old man climb the escalator. And up above, he rode the tram once again for the last time.
"You may be surprised I'm being a chatty now. But you know what? Being chatty is helping me a lot. Talking to Tanyushka, joking to my daughters Nadenka and Oksanka. They always look at me in tired face if I made bad jokes, but to see them also comes to me for advices... I guess I have been better than my shitty father."
And with a five minutes journey, he finally reached a housing street. During the journey to one apartment block, the old man keep staring at the gloomy, grey sky. It's still afternoon and almost lunch time, as he remembered so far. The same sky he gazed at since younger times... whether alone or with someone on his side...
"Maybe you are right. I grew up in a cult family and they destroyed my siblings' lives. I have visited Tanyushka family in every gathering, and they treated me so kindly. They don't condemn me to bore Nadenka and Oksanka in June and July. They just remind me to be a good husband and father. I feel like... I truly had a family. And makes me regretting to not taking your cigarette and smoking with you."
A snowflake got into his right eye, just when he almost want to shed tears. The old man chuckled, both in amusement and annoyance. He continued to walk again until reached an apartment. The red brick walls are slightly covered by snow, and the bleak white window on the first floor reflects the old man's figure. The old man spruce the leftover snows on his coat and hair, then proceeded to enter the building.
"Though I might still upset at you who said Eduard died in mass hysteria... Oh well, I'm already happy that my entire family executed by Bolsheviks... then my shitty father died, my mother able to leave that old man and my siblings got better life. My surname will died out, as my daughters are marrying kind husbands and taking the new surname. And I would love to die as the last Oktyuchev."
One step. One step. Turn right while grip the railings. One step. Another step. Paused for a while to take a breath in third floor. Then another step again...
"So I guess you have met everyone you loved. Your family. Your wife. Dima... and... Lyosha. The real Lyosha, I mean. Not the bastard who kill you."
Finally Vadim has climbed the topmost staircase at fifth floor. He knocked, and entered once his wife Tatiana opened the door. They conversed for a while happily, till Tatiana went back to the bedroom to ironing some clothes. Vadim put his back to the carpeted sofa, taking a balalaika and plays the old tunes he loved to play - Kalinushka.
The father's vile voices still echoed once a month. Like neighbor next door's radio, suddenly turned on a bit loud. But somehow the frequency is so rare than his younger days, thanks to the pills and fulfilling life.
And maybe, because Vadim knew he will be the last one to join his friends, which stronger than any vile voices he heard.
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Died / Quitted / Retired
Oleg (December 1941) - Vasily (July 1943) - Alexei (July 1944) - Maxim (March 1945) - Anatoli (August 1945) - Dmitry (November 1952) - Ivan (December 1955) - Stepan (December 1955) - Andrei (October 1960) - Semyon (September 1964) - Fyodor (May 1967) - Vadim (February 1974)