“Of course not.”
“It was only the dark ones, the evil priests, who changed our name. They sought to darken us, to blacken us with rumor and innuendo, so others would stay away. And yes, it was the priests who branded us with that name.” As fierce as a drowning person, she pulled me close again. “They called us the Khlysti”-The Whips, the Flagellants. “But they lie! They say terrible things and they say we cut off the breasts of virgins and eat them! The priests lie to protect their positions and keep their gold gowns and pearled hats!”
“Perhaps,” I said, as scared of her as I was of her blasphemous words.
“It is truth!” she nearly screamed.
This time it was I who firmly took hold of her. Latching my arm beneath hers, I tugged her along.
“We must hurry.”
“I tell you the truth. I do!”
“I know, I know. But we’re late and…and someone will notice us if we stand here much longer.”
Madame Lokhtina flinched at the thought and glanced furtively up and down the street, searching the deep night for secret agents.
“Look!” she gasped. “I saw something move, a shadow! Someone’s back there, someone’s following us!”
I looked carefully but saw nothing, only a deserted street. “Come on, we must keep going.”
Finally, she started moving, and as we pressed on she clung to my arm and babbled away, saying, “I will tell you the secret of tonight’s activities, my child. Do you know it? Do you?”
“Well, I-”
“It’s all about cleansing, of ridding yourself of darkness. Just remember, if you have a glass of dirty water there is no way to turn what is foul into clean. Even if you add some pure holy water, the water in the glass will be tainted. Satan is so powerful that only a drop of him can ruin all! So what can you do? You must first empty that glass!”
That made sense, I thought. I myself had never felt so dirty and in need of purification as I did now.
“You must cast away that soiled water, no matter how little or how much is in the glass! And only when you have flung it away, only when you have emptied the vessel, is there cleanliness and innocence, and then-and only then!-is there a sacred place for the freshest water to come in and be stored without contamination.”
“I see,” I replied, understanding not just in my head but in my heart as well.
Arm in arm, we scurried along, two women, one young, with boots crunching in the frost, and one old, her rag-swathed feet sweeping through the snow. When she tugged my arm, we turned right at the next street. A half block later we ducked down a side alley and wound our way through the middle of a block. Emerging on a major thoroughfare, we continued to the left. And so it went for at least a half hour. With a smile on my face, I thought how Papa would lock me up for this, being out so late and walking the dark streets with just another woman. But I didn’t care. It all felt so liberating.
From time to time, Madame Lohktina would growl under her breath, “Christ is ri-i-isen! Chri-i-ist is ri-i-isen! Chri-i-i-i-ist is ri-i-i-isen!” And then, bubbling like a nervous brook from her lips, “Alleluia! Rivers, great rivers! And Christ, the Lord Sabbath! I have fear and love, great love! Help me, give a hand, help me! Alleluiaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
Suddenly, she jerked me to the right, into an alleyway wide enough for only one person. She stuffed me into this black hole, then peered back out, searching up and down the street. There was no one, of course. The last people I’d seen were several blocks back, a group of wounded soldiers huddled around an open fire.
Smashing me against the wall of the narrow passage, she pressed past me, then snatched me by the hand and pulled me on.
“Bistro!” Quickly, she commanded.
I could barely see, and half stumbled, half ran as I was dragged along. We went around one corner, another. As if we were entering a cave, the passage became smaller and darker with every moment.
“Steps!”
That’s indeed what came next, a waterfall of steep steps I nearly tumbled down and would have, had Madame Lokhtina not caught me and guided me. We turned one last corner, descended one last set of stairs. Finally, the two of us huffing, we stood before a heavy wooden door, against which she rapped once, then thrice, finally twice.
A voice from behind the door called, “Who flies this night?”
“Bozh’i-Liudi.” God’s People, she said.
“What did the prophets predict?”
“That Christ would descend upon us.”
A heavy bolt was thrown aside and a thick door pulled open. We blew in like a cold gust, and the door was slammed behind us. Gazing around, I saw a handful of candles burning on the stone floor, and a stout man, whose head was covered with a white hood in which eyeholes were crudely cut. On his body he wore nothing but the plainest white flaxen gown, which hung all the way down to his bare feet. Reaching under his hood, he pulled out the end of his long gray beard and tugged on it. First he carefully studied Madame Lokhtina. Satisfied that she was one of theirs, he nodded his approval and pulled her past him, shoving her down a dark hall. When he turned to me, however, I immediately sensed his confusion, even fear. Almost at once he started shaking his head. Turning me to the side, he pulled away the heavy scarf covering my hair and examined my profile. Of course he didn’t recognize me.
“Nyet, nyet, nyet!” came his deep, confident voice.
Almost at once his meaty hand emerged from beneath the gown and grabbed me by the shoulder. With his other hand, he reached for the heavy iron bolt and began sliding it open. In a panic, Madame Lokhtina leaped from the shadows.
“She is his!” she screamed.
The heavy man didn’t care who I was or where I’d come from. All he knew was that I didn’t belong down here, and with great speed and force he proceeded to heave open the door.
“Wait!” screamed Madame Lokhtina. “You don’t understand!”
Of course he understood. I was not one of theirs. And I was not to be admitted, no matter what. As he pulled back the door, another gust of winter chill cascaded inward. Dear God, I thought, as the man grabbed me by the collar and made ready to hurl me out. I was fairly confident I could find my way home, but at this hour of the night I could only hope to do it safely and without incident.
Suddenly a second hooded man appeared out of nowhere, bellowing, “Wait!”
In the snap of a second I was jerked back. Once again the thick door was heaved shut and the iron bolt slammed into place. I turned around and stared at another man in a white hood and flaxen gown, this one not as tall or big as the first. Right behind him stood Madame Lokhtina, whispering in his ear. I heard nothing but one magical word.
“Doche.” Daughter.
Yes, I was indeed his.
The shorter man nodded decisively, stating, “It is permitted!”
A smile on her dirty face, Madame Lokhtina burst forward and grabbed me by the hand. “Come with me, child!”
As I was pulled past the second man, I felt him staring at me from beneath his hood as if he knew me-and I, assuming he was one of my father’s followers, was sure he did. When he nodded distinctly and politely to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d eaten fish soup at our table.
Dragged along by Madame Lokhtina, I followed her down a narrow brick passage lit by an occasional torch. Suddenly she stopped. In the flickering smoky light of one of the torches, she probed a wall with her filthy gnarled hands. When her splintered fingernails came across one particular brick, she nearly glowed with delight.
“Chri-i-ist is ri-i-isen,” she crooned as she pressed on the brick. “Chri-i-ist is RI-I-ISEN!”
Like magic, a hidden door in the wall gave way, opening into a large chamber. Madame Lokhtina grabbed my right hand, squeezed it, and took me through, entering the hidden world of the Khlysty. As my eyes swept from side to side, my body flushed with a weird kind of excitement. Here before me, buried in a lost cellar beneath Petrograd, were some thirty men and women, all dressed in long white gowns of flax and virtually nothing else, no pants, no dresses, no shoes or boots. In the sweet flickering light of beeswax candles, they swayed from side to side as a small choir chanted, “Our hearts are filled with joy, for seeing Christ has risen!”