Alexei Vladimirovich Kranchek looked up at the massive stone mansion that loomed before him now. The grand white-washed building was every bit as beautiful as he had remembered it. It was an impressive piece of architectural work that was designed in an elegant Victorian style. Built at the turn of the century, the mansion boasted of at least five hundred bedrooms, two kitchens, and a dozen halls.
Alexei cautiously ascended the marble steps that led up to the ancient wooden double doors that made up the front door. He cleared his throat, raised his knuckles, hesitated, before knocking on the door.
Five minutes later, the door opened with a creak.
"Who's there?" came a soft, feminine voice in a hushed tone.
"It's me, Alexei" the visitor answered in a serious, formal tone. Too formal indeed.
Immediately, the door swung wide open.
"Lexy! Oh, it's you. Thank God you're finally here!"
A young lady dressed in a dark muslin frock stood at the doorway. She could had been described as beautiful, for she had large, doe-like hazel eyes and raven tresses, if not for the fact that she looked so miserable. Red, puffy lines under her eyes and pale face were evidence that she had been crying. The lady was Tatiana, his sister.
Alexei was ushered into a large reception hall. He indicated his wish to see his estranged mother and Tatiana eagerly showed him the way to the drawing room. Alexei noticed that all the servants were dressed in black, the traditional mourning colour. Even the whole mansion was enveloped by a silent, gloomy atmosphere, as if something horrible had happened. Alexei knew that fact all too well.
The previous morning, he had received a shocking piece of news from Leningrad - that his father had died. The grumpy old man had finally succumbed to his lung cancer, a lifelong malady that he had wrestled with. Alexei was rather surprised to get the news, and he bought himself a first-class ticket from Moscow and rushed back home. He had attended his father's elaborate funeral like a dutiful son although the reality was that he was not.
The truth was, Alexei never liked his father. A stern, authoritative paternal figure, Vladimir Kranchek did not shower love on his son. Even at a very young age, Vladimir was constantly pushing his son, his only son, to excel in whatever field that he was in - academics, sports, career. He wanted Alexei to be great in life, and would not tolerate mistakes. When Alexei failed, the boy would be reprimanded or punished harshly.
As time went by, Alexei's relationship with his father was strained. When he reached his late teens, father and son had drifted so far apart that was a communication breakdown between them.
The last straw came one fine summer afternoon on 20 June 1987, the most significant date in Alexei's life history. It was that day that he graduated from the University of Moscow with a first class honours degree in law. It was s strict tradition in the posh, wealthy neighbourhood that he lived in for a father to give a car to his child who graduated from university to celebrate the success.
Alexei had fallen in love with a dashing, black Ferrari and had repeatedly told his father so. That was the car for him. The young man was looking forward to owning the sleep automobile himself.
The day for the arrival of the present came. Imagine Alexei's shock and bitter disappointment when he received a gift-wrapped Holy Bible from his father. The horrified youngster felt as if someone had just slapped him across the face. To Alexei, this was the greatest insult he had received in his life, and to rub salt to the injury, it was from his own father.
In a blinding moment of rage and fury, he slammed the book down onto the floor and stormed out of the house, never looking back again. He severed his ties with his father that day. Later, he went to Moscow and became a successful lawyer.
That was fifteen years ago.
Alexei was jerked back to reality. Beside him, Tatania motioned towards a door in front of him. Without wasting any more time, he grasped the handle and opened the door.
Mrs. Kranchek was a sight to behold. The recently widowed woman was garbed in a black gown and was slumped against a high rosewood chair. Her face was tear-stained and there was an expression of extreme grief in her eyes. She looked dreamy, as if unaware of their entry.
"Mother."
The wretched woman was stunned.
"Lexy? Is that you, Lexy?" Ekaterina Kranchek muttered in a low voice.
"Yes, mother. I've come home."
Ekaterina shook her head from side to side as if in disbelief.
"Aaah... Lexy, my son, Lexy! You should not have come!" She burst into tears. "You should not have come!" she repeated mournfully. She was weeping uncontrollably now.
"What's wrong, mother?" An alarmed Alexei rushed to her side.
"T-there... There!" Ekaterina pointed towards a nearby desk. "There! You will find all your answers there!" Her finger was shaking.
Puzzled, Alexis walked towards the desk. There was an assortment of items on the desk like keys, photo albums and articles, and he suddenly realized that he was looking at his late father's belongings. A familiar-looking book caught his eyes.
It was the Holy Bible. The very same book that was responsible for his breakup with his old man.
Instinctively, his hands touched the leather-bound volume. Blowing dust away from the cover, he opened the book. As he was flipping through the crisp white pages, a bunch of keys fell from the book. He bent down to pick it up.
He froze.
It could not be.
Those keys were actually the keys to a sports car - his black Ferrari. There was even a receipt attached to the keys as proof of purchase of the vehicle.
"No!!!" Alexei screamed as his world came crashing down on him. He was so sad, no words could possibly describe what he was feeling then. He crumbled to the floor and broke down.
"Please forgive me, father, for I've wronged you. I'm so very, very sorry for what I've done." He cried and cried. But, no matter how much he cried, his father would never come back again. His father was truly lost from him.
Since that incident, Alexei Kranchek became a better man. He learnt a valuable lesson that day - that there is nothing more precious than family relationship. There is no price tag to love. A lifetime of misery was the price he had to pay for an act of haste.
GLADYS KOH
(MGSS, 5K1/2002)
nice essay
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