The group reached the mine and stopped at the quay. They were told there would be no loading, as the weather was getting worse and, supposedly, the steamer was set to leave. Three lights could be seen. One was moving: the light from the steamboat that had been near the steamer and was now coming back to say whether the loading would occur or not. Shivering in the autumn cold and the damp from the sea, wrapping himself in his short, torn sheepskin coat, Yakov Ivanych looked intently without blinking in the direction where his home lay. Since coming to live in the prison together with men from all over Europe—Russians, Ukrainians, Tatars, Georgians, Chinese, Finns, Gypsies, Jews—he began to listen to their conversations and watched them suffering, his faith began to grow again, as he felt that finally he had learned the true faith, the very faith that his whole family had longed for and for which they had searched in vain. He knew now where God was, and how He was to be served. There was only one thing now that he did not understand: why did one person’s destiny differ so much from another’s? Why did this simple faith, that some got for free while living their lives, come at such a price, with his limbs trembling like a drunk’s from all the horror and suffering that apparently would go on without end until his death.
Yakov peered intensely into the darkness. It seemed to him that through a thousand miles of that mist he could see his home, his village, and the railroad station. He could see the ignorance, savagery, heartlessness, and indifference of the people he had left behind. His sight grew dim with tears, but he kept gazing into the distance where the steamer’s pale lights were shining vaguely. His heart ached with longing for home. He wanted to live, to return home and share his new faith with all, in the hopes of making a difference to one man, and to live without suffering, if only for a day.
The small steamboat arrived. The overseer loudly announced that the coal loading was canceled.
“Step back! Atten-tion!” he commanded.
They could hear the anchor being raised on the steamer. A strong, piercing wind was blowing now, with the sound of trees creaking somewhere above, up on the steep shore. Most likely, a storm was coming.
CRIMINAL INVESTIGATOR
The county doctor and the criminal investigator were riding to perform an autopsy one wonderful spring day.
The investigator was a man in his mid-forties. He thoughtfully looked up and said to his companion, “There are many mysterious, dark forces in the world. But even in our everyday life, dear doctor, you can stumble on events that cannot be explained. For example, I have come across several very mysterious and strange deaths, which can only be explained by mysticism or spiritualism, things that a person with a logical mind would only shake his head at in disbelief. To give you an example, I once knew a very intelligent woman who managed to foretell her death, without any visible reason. She told many others that she would die on a particular day, and she died on that very day.”
“There is no action without a reason. If there was a death, then there was a reason for it,” the doctor replied. “And if we are to talk about predictions in general, that is not very strange. People often talk about this, especially women in the local villages. A lot of them think they have some sort of gift, like premonition.”
“This is true, dear doctor, but the lady I am talking about was a very special woman. In her prediction and in her death there was no psychic, magic, or any of those kinds of influences. She was very young and healthy, intelligent, and without any prejudice. She had clever, clear, and honest eyes, with a very light, completely Russian kind of smile on her lips. She possessed a true feminine beauty.
“She was kind and gracious, with fine eyes and gorgeous, lovely hair! To complete her portrait, I should add that she was a very optimistic woman, filled with a zest for life, infected with happiness and joy, so to speak. She had a contagious laugh, and was filled with that light carelessness that only very smart, simple, and joyful people possess. How can we speak about mysticism, spiritualism, psychics, or magic in this case, when in life she laughed at these very things?”
The doctor’s horses stopped near the well. Both the investigator and the doctor got down and drank some water while waiting for the driver to finish watering the horses.
“So, what was the cause of her death?” the doctor inquired, as they continued on their way.
“She died in a very peculiar way. One day, her husband came to her and said that it would be nice to replace their cart and their old horses with stronger, younger ones, especially Out-Runner, their old horse, and Dobchinsky. The husband did not like this horse and so gave her a funny name. He wanted to get rid of the horse by giving it to the horse knacker [to convert to dog food and glue].
The wife listened to him and said,
“Do whatever you want. By the end of this summer, I’ll be in the cemetery.”
The husband shook his head and smiled.
“I am not joking in the slightest,” she continued. “I assure you, I will die soon.”
“How soon?” her husband asked her.
“Right after I will deliver the baby, I shall take one last look at the child, and then die.”
Now the husband did not pay any attention to her words. He did not believe in premonitions and future-telling. We all know that when women are expecting, they can often be prone to depressing thoughts.
But the next day, his wife told him the same thing: that she would die on the day of her delivery, and she continued to say the same thing with each day that followed. He just laughed and called her a worried old woman.
However, his wife had developed a fixed idea about her upcoming death. The husband discovered when he went to the kitchen and spoke with the cook and nanny that his wife had repeated her belief to the staff, saying:
“I will not live long, for I will die soon, my dear nanny. As soon as I deliver, I will die, for this is my fate.”
Both the nanny and the cook would cry when she spoke like this. Word of her situation spread across the area. Local ladies would come and try to speak to her about her future plans, but she only spoke of her upcoming death. She spoke very seriously, without hesitation or objection, with a sad, ill-looking smile on her face, and often with an angry expression. She had formerly been a very fashionable lady, but in the wake of her premonition she did not take any visible care with her appearance, which was now constantly untidy. She stopped laughing or dreaming aloud.
Even more, one day she went with her aunt to the cemetery and purchased the plot of her future grave. Five days before the baby was due, she wrote out her will.
Please keep in mind that she was in perfect health, without any hint of illness. Giving birth is a difficult thing, and there can be medical problems, but the woman I am telling you about was completely happy and healthy, and there seemed nothing to worry about.
The husband was tired of the whole situation. One day, during dinner, he grew angry and asked her loudly, “Listen, Natasha, when are you going to stop this foolishness?”
“I am not being foolish. I am telling the truth,” was her reply.
“Nonsense! Stop talking about these foolish things, otherwise later you will be embarrassed.”
The day of the delivery finally came. The husband brought the best midwife in from the city. This was her first child, and everything went smoothly, without a problem. When the labor was over, the wife wanted to take a look at her newborn son. She glanced at him and said,
“Now, I can die.”
She then said good-bye to everyone, closed her eyes, and half an hour later was dead.
Up until the last moment she was in good health, could see and hear everything, and she was in control of herself. When they brought her some milk during the delivery instead of water, she quietly whispered,