by 9;30 PM
The sun was long gone for the winter sky, leaving only the moon to glisten over the snow capped houses and hills of the valley. Most of the Popov children had gone to bed, expect for the few at school and the singular daughter of Pieter the first.
"The time will come, then you will learn- The pugnacious life, " Iva remembered the sound of her mother's song, drifting through the house like the warmth of the fire, pulling her from the warmth of her covers into the hall. The words echoed in her mind- a reminder of something that wasn't there. Mother had gone to her room, apparently sick of the attention her child needed. Instead of wallowing in the emptiness of the place, Iva opened her little mouth and rasped out the words of the song as she skipped down the hall, the late hour not affected her energy.
"I will die from longing,
I will wait inconsolably,
I will pray the whole day long,
And at night I'll tell fortunes
I will think that you are in trouble
Far away in a foreign land.
Sleep now, as long as you don't know sorrows,
Bayushki- Bayashi?"
Iva stumbled over the last line, her voice down to a little squeak. The sickness always did this to her. Robbed her voice and strength. Even after the little exercise she had, walking down the hall, her legs had begun to shake. Unsure of what to do, the toddler did the only thing she knew how to.
"Mama? Mama!" No response. "MAMA!"
In an instant, her mother was upon her, picking her up in those familiar arms. But, instead of the normal comforting words, Iva's jaw was caught up in a strong grip. The child let out a whine, but didn't bother to pull away.
"Inno! Why are you up? You are a bad child!" Her mother's hair, brown and streaked with gray, fell into the daughter's face. She took this as more of a comfort though, cool against the burning skin of her fever.
"If you do not sleep, you'll get germy. The germs will make you sick! Sick, sick, sick!"
Letting the mantra sink in, Iva could only nod, "Yes, Mama,"
"Now be a good child, Bayushki bayu,"
"Yes, Mama,"
The sun was long gone for the winter sky, leaving only the moon to glisten over the snow capped houses and hills of the valley. Most of the Popov children had gone to bed, expect for the few at school and the singular daughter of Pieter the first.
"The time will come, then you will learn- The pugnacious life, " Iva remembered the sound of her mother's song, drifting through the house like the warmth of the fire, pulling her from the warmth of her covers into the hall. The words echoed in her mind- a reminder of something that wasn't there. Mother had gone to her room, apparently sick of the attention her child needed. Instead of wallowing in the emptiness of the place, Iva opened her little mouth and rasped out the words of the song as she skipped down the hall, the late hour not affected her energy.
"I will die from longing,
I will wait inconsolably,
I will pray the whole day long,
And at night I'll tell fortunes
I will think that you are in trouble
Far away in a foreign land.
Sleep now, as long as you don't know sorrows,
Bayushki- Bayashi?"
Iva stumbled over the last line, her voice down to a little squeak. The sickness always did this to her. Robbed her voice and strength. Even after the little exercise she had, walking down the hall, her legs had begun to shake. Unsure of what to do, the toddler did the only thing she knew how to.
"Mama? Mama!" No response. "MAMA!"
In an instant, her mother was upon her, picking her up in those familiar arms. But, instead of the normal comforting words, Iva's jaw was caught up in a strong grip. The child let out a whine, but didn't bother to pull away.
"Inno! Why are you up? You are a bad child!" Her mother's hair, brown and streaked with gray, fell into the daughter's face. She took this as more of a comfort though, cool against the burning skin of her fever.
"If you do not sleep, you'll get germy. The germs will make you sick! Sick, sick, sick!"
Letting the mantra sink in, Iva could only nod, "Yes, Mama,"
"Now be a good child, Bayushki bayu,"
"Yes, Mama,"
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