Chapter Seven

Mr. Poloski

Even though my mother was gone for the weekend on a business trip, the logic thing for me to do would have been to stay up until the late hours of the night, invite my friends for the weekend, or perhaps throw a wild high school party, however that just totally did not happen.  Sure I went to the mall to try to attempt to buy a graduation dress again, but just like the last time my mind was consumed with old photographs, the little heart to heart that my great grandmother and I shared, okay scratch that the huge heart to heart that my great grandmother and I shared on Thursday.  However, mostly it was the conversation between Mr. Poloski and me the very next day that caused my mind to feel like a movie projector going a hundred miles a minute, flashing images and thoughts throughout my mind.

“Mr. Poloski, do you have anything else on the Russian Revolution?” I asked as I was looking throughout the “Russian Bible” in the library.  Mr. Poloski said that he knew almost everything there was to know about Russia, so I planned on putting him to the test, without making me look suspicious.  I just had to find away to find out more about my family to help myself with this stupid World History assignment, but more importantly to help my great grandmamma be able to reconnect with the only family that she has left.

“Russian Revolution? Why as a matter of fact I do.  Here are some books, and you could actually go to the library downtown to research more.  There should be a great deal more information on this subject than about your family name.” Mr. Poloski said with a smile as he wrote down some titles on a sheet of paper.  I couldn’t help but to laugh to myself as well.  It seemed almost ages ago, even though it was only two days since he had shown me the truth about my great grandpappa, Leon Vasiliev.  It was hard to still imagine reading what the history books said about Leon, and hearing through Nunna, who exactly he was.  I smiled bigger at my thought, if Mr. Poloski thought me being the only descendant of Leon Vasiliev was incredible, I wonder what he would say if he knew the truth about who I really was, or better yet who exactly lives just twenty minutes from this very school.  He’d probably have a heart attack from all the shock and excitement, I concluded in my mind.

“Lisa, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you found anything more about your Russian side of your family?” He asked as he started to take out an old leather book with Russian words from a stack he had brought with him into the library.

“Um, some, but that’s why I need to look up more about the Russian Revolution.” I said with hesitation.  I hated lying; in fact I was really bad at it.  The fact was that yes I knew about my family, but the truth was that I still did need to look up more about the Revolution, only then I could find out more about my extended family.

“Ah I see, well when you do figure it out, I was wondering if you’d let me know, you see my own family was very involved in the Imperial Era and also the Revolution as well.” Mr. Poloski started to explain.

“Oh your family was part of the Bolshevik party also?” I asked, now very curious as to what role his own family played.

“Um, well you could say that, but mostly my great grandfather was part of the Imperial Court.  He was very close with the Romanovs.” He said softly as he flipped through the pages of the old leather book.

“Wow, who was he?” I asked as I started to sit across from him at one of the library tables.

“Well, some say he was a witchdoctor, but I think he was just an advisor that got bad advice from others.” He said with a smile as he began. “You see the some history books actually blame my great grandfather for starting the Revolution in Russia all those years ago.” He said as he finally found the page he was looking for.

“Wait, so people say that your family started the Russian Revolution? Why?” I asked curiously.  How could his family have been the root of the Revolution?  What happened? Did that mean he was the descendant of the man who caused my family to be killed? I had so many thoughts and questions in my head.

Mr. Poloski took a deep breath as he started reading from the book in his fluent Russian then translated it for me:

“Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin was a Russian mystic who is perceived as having influenced the latter days of the Russian Emperor Nicholas II, his wife Alexandra, and their only son Alexei. Rasputin had often been called the "Mad Monk",while others considered him a religious pilgrim and even an Elder, a title usually reserved for monk-confessors, believing him to be a psychic and faith healer.  It has been argued that Rasputin helped to discredit the tsarist government, leading to the fall of the Romanov dynasty, in 1917. Contemporary opinions saw Rasputin variously as a saintly mystic, visionary, healer and prophet or, on the contrary, as a debauched religious charlatan. There has been much uncertainty over Rasputin's life and influence as accounts of his life have often been based on dubious memoirs, hearsay and legend…Rasputin's daughter, Maria Rasputin (Matryona Rasputina) (1898–1977), immigrated to France after the October Revolution, and then to the U.S. There she worked as a dancer and then a tiger-trainer in a circus. She left memoirs about her father, wherein she painted an almost saintly picture of him, insisting that most of the negative stories were based on slander and the misinterpretations of facts by his enemies…”

“That’s the summary of him at least.” Mr. Poloski said as he leaned back, taking off his glasses to clean them off before putting them back on.  I just looked at him and then back down at the Russian words he had just read to me.  Was it really possible that the man sitting across from me was the descendant of the man who betrayed my family and sent them to their deaths? I ask myself and process it in my mind.

“Lisa, I know you are kind of shocked with all this knowledge, between just finding who your great grandfather is and now knowing who I’m related to.  However, I want you to know that we aren’t our great grandfathers.  We are who we choose to be.  I’m sure if everyone looks back into their past family history they will discover someone who did wrong, someone that makes us feel ashamed, but it’s in the past.  We can only move forward, and become better people.” He said with small smile as he glanced down at my ring before returning his gaze to me.

“Lisa, I didn’t notice before, but that is a fascinating ring that you have.  Is it new?” He asked suspiciously.

Thankfully, before I could respond the bell rang loudly. Finally, a perfect time to leave this awkward situation, and to think all I wanted was to find out more about the Russian Revolution, not hear about Mr. Poloski’s horrible great grandfather and for him to be asking me about my ring, I thought to myself.

“Lisa, before you leave for lunch, I want to let you know you can trust me with anything.  If you want me to know anything that may help you find out who you really are.  All you have to do is ask.  You’d be surprised at how much I do know about Russia.  This is how I am different from my great grandfather, when I swear to protect someone, I really do mean it.  Lisa, if you ever need anything or any help, I will be here for you.”  He said with an intense gaze.  Could Mr. Poloski, already know who I am?  Why was he telling me this?  Was I willing to go against my Nunna, in order to find out more about our family?  Was I willing to trust Mr. Poloski?  So many questions continued to filled my head. 

“Um, thank you, I will.” I said softly, as I walked off towards Eric who was giving me an impatient, hungry look.  As I glanced back one more time before exiting the library, I caught the eyes of Mr. Poloski staring at me for a brief moment before he glanced back down at his book.  Something began to make me wonder, who exactly is my World History teacher, Mr. Poloski?

I had those same thoughts throughout the entire weekend.  Who exactly is Mr. Poloski?  I know who he’s related to, however, why is he so interested in me and my family?  What was with that last statement before I left the library on Friday? Yet the one question that bothered me the most was if Mr. Poloski knew the truth about my family, would it be so dangerous? I asked myself as I changed into my comfy clothes waiting for my mother to get back any minute from her business trip.

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